Chapter Fifty-Eight: The Luo Family's Outburst

Han Songyan noticed An Yi avoiding his gaze. He curved his lips into a faint smile, reached out, and picked up a small red wild fruit from the table. “What’s this?”

Liu the herbalist, delighted to see Han Songyan stumped, crowed, “Ha! Even you don’t know something, young Han. Xier, tell him what it is.”

An Yi answered, “It’s an Elaeagnus fruit.”

Han Songyan took a bite and smiled. “It tastes sweet, not bad at all.”

“It’s more than just tasty—the seeds, leaves, and roots are all medicinal. Tomorrow, I’m going up the mountain to transplant a sapling to grow here. Want me to take you along to see for yourself?” Liu the herbalist offered.

“Master, you want to go into the mountains—have you asked Mistress?” An Yi poured cold water on his enthusiasm.

Liu the herbalist immediately fell silent. Over a decade ago, he’d met with disaster in the mountains and nearly lost his life. Since then, he’d promised Madam Zhang never to venture into the mountains again.

Han Songyan, unable to bear seeing the old man, so devoted to medicine, look so dejected, smiled and said, “Dr. Liu, I’ll go up the mountain for you tomorrow and dig one up.”

“But you don’t even know what an Elaeagnus shrub looks like! How will you find it?” Liu the herbalist frowned.

“I can go with Brother An and Xier,” Han Songyan replied. Having visited often, he’d grown close enough to change how he addressed An Yi.

Liu the herbalist looked at An Yi imploringly, “Xier, I’m counting on you for the Elaeagnus. You must pick a good one and bring it back.”

“Alright,” An Yi replied softly.

The next day, led by Li Guyu, the three Luo brothers, Han Songyan, and the An siblings set off into the mountains with hoes and baskets.

Early summer in the mountains was laced with a faint chill, but An Yi was soon drenched in sweat. Li Guyu was hunting snakes, so he led them off the paths, through thick undergrowth and brambles. They walked from dawn until nearly midday. If her four brothers hadn’t taken turns carrying her, An Yi would have fallen far behind.

“How much farther, Li Guyu?” An Yi asked, panting as she leaned against a tree.

“Not much. Just a few more steps,” Li Guyu said, pointing ahead.

“A few steps?” An Yi cast him a sidelong glance, arching her brow in doubt.

Those “few steps” ended up taking An Yi nearly half an hour. She hadn’t counted, but it was certainly more than a few steps.

When she finally saw the thicket full of red Elaeagnus berries, she suddenly realized something—she needn’t have come at all. Li Guyu knew the spot and could have brought Han Songyan. Once he saw the bushes, he’d recognize the plant. Why had she troubled herself to come along?

She only realized this after arriving and felt a little annoyed at herself. It was her master’s pleading look that had swayed her and led her into such a foolish mistake. She found a clean spot to sit, pointed out the Elaeagnus bushes, and nodded.

Seeing her confirmation, Han Songyan went over and carefully selected two saplings, each a little over a meter tall, lush and full. The spot was far from the village, and carrying back larger trees would have been too much trouble.

The Luo brothers and An Kang took up their hoes and began to dig. Uprooting a tree is not like chopping one down; the roots have to be preserved, which takes time. Li Guyu, eager to catch snakes, couldn’t tarry and headed off after telling them he’d return to meet them later.

Han Songyan walked over to An Yi and sat down a step away, casting a glance at her flushed cheeks. “Are you tired?” he asked with concern.

“Not at all.” An Yi put her wooden cup on the ground, took out a large gourd of water and another cup, rinsed it, poured some water, and handed it to him.

“Thank you,” Han Songyan said softly, accepting the cup with a smile.

An Yi was not one for small talk. She pressed her lips together and remained silent.

Han Songyan wanted to say something, but the more he interacted with An Yi, the more he realized how different she was with family versus outsiders. With her kin, she was charming and playful; with others, she was distant and aloof.

So the two sat quietly beneath the trees, each holding a wooden cup, dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves onto their shoulders.

After she’d rested enough, An Yi put on her five-fingered gloves, picked up a small hoe, and started searching for herbs nearby. Han Songyan was worried she’d wander off without noticing, so he trailed closely behind.

“Careful,” Han Songyan said suddenly, stepping forward and reaching out to pull An Yi, who was squatting on the ground.

Caught off guard, An Yi plopped down, looking up in surprise to see a snake in his hand. “You know how to catch snakes?” she asked.

“Not really. But I read in a book that the key is to grab a snake at its seventh inch. I figured catching one would be the same,” Han Songyan replied with a grin.

An Yi looked at the snake—it wasn’t venomous, thankfully. She said coolly, “If you don’t know how to handle snakes, don’t be rash. What if it was poisonous…”

“Brother Songyan! Sister! We’ve dug up the trees. Come and have a look!” An Kang’s shout cut her off.

An Yi got up, picked up her basket, and went over. Han Songyan tossed the snake far away, chuckling as he followed.

The trees had been dug with most of their roots intact, still surrounded by earth. This meant they would likely survive transplanting.

The trees were out, but Li Guyu hadn’t returned. An Yi set aside a share of dry rations for him and passed the rest around for everyone to eat.

After they’d finished, Li Guyu came back, carrying a bundle. He ran to An Yi, eager to show off. “Xier, is this the ganoderma you mentioned?”

Han Songyan glanced at it and declared, “That’s not ganoderma.”

Li Guyu was skeptical and looked to An Yi, whom he trusted most.

An Yi picked up one, studied it, and sniffed it. “This isn’t ganoderma. It’s a lookalike fungus that’s poisonous and cannot be eaten.”

Li Guyu’s face fell with disappointment.

An Yi smiled, “If ganoderma were to be found everywhere, it wouldn’t fetch a good price. Rarity makes things precious. It’s like the snakes you catch: common grass snakes sell cheap, but black snakes are worth much more.”

“I get it now,” Li Guyu beamed again.

An Yi handed him food and water. “Hurry and eat.”

Whenever Li Guyu went up the mountain, Aunt Jiang never packed him any food. He’d go hungry all day, and only upon returning at night would he get some coarse grain—often not enough to fill him.

When he finished eating, the group headed back down.

If climbing the mountain was hard, descending was even harder. An Yi struggled with every step. The Luo brothers, carrying the trees, couldn’t spare a third hand to help her. She stumbled every few steps, nearly falling more than once. An Kang worried and urged, “Sister, be careful—watch your step.”

Just as he spoke, An Yi tripped again, pitching forward. If not for Han Songyan catching her from behind, she would have landed face-first in the dirt.

Han Songyan moved ahead of her, crouched down, and said, “Climb on.”

An Yi hesitated, “You’ll carry me?”

An Kang was also taken aback, but, worried about her getting hurt, said, “Sister, if Brother Songyan is willing to carry you, you ought to thank him.”

“Thank you,” An Yi murmured. She truly couldn’t go on. Having someone willing to carry her was the best thing. She stepped up, wrapped her arms around Han Songyan’s neck, and climbed onto his back.

Han Songyan’s back was broad and steady. He walked with sure steps, making her feel safe.

After all the climbing, An Yi was exhausted. At not yet nine years old, she couldn’t endure much more. She dozed off on Han Songyan’s back.

Hearing her gentle, steady breathing by his ear, Han Songyan smiled softly.

When they reached home, An Yi was still asleep. When Madam Luo saw her daughter being carried in, she was startled. “What happened to Xier?”

“Mother, she’s fine. She was just tired from the climb and fell asleep,” An Kang quickly explained.

“This child…” Madam Luo gathered An Yi into her arms. “Fourth young master, you must be exhausted.”

“Not at all,” Han Songyan replied with a gentle smile.

As soon as she was shifted, An Yi woke up. Seeing her mother holding her, she broke into a sweet smile and called, “Mother.”

“Awake now, are you?” Madam Luo laughed, setting her down. “Go wash your face. Dinner will be ready soon.”

“Mother, I’ll take the saplings to Dr. Liu.” An Kang and the Luo brothers went out again, carrying the trees.

Han Songyan followed. In the glow of the setting sun, they planted the saplings in the herb garden.

The next day, Madam Luo brought out new clothes for An Yi, dressed her in a neat low bun, tied a ribbon, and pinned on a silk flower.

“Mother, where are you taking me?” An Yi asked.

“Your great-aunt sent word. Cousin Ximei will be marrying soon and wants you to keep her company for a chat,” Madam Luo replied with a smile.

“I don’t want to go. I have nothing to say to her.” An Yi pulled the flower from her hair. She’d only met Ximei once, but from the girl’s attitude, it was clear they wouldn’t get along. They had no real connection. This sudden invitation smacked of plotting—when things are this unusual, they’re bound to be trouble.

“I’ve already spoken to your uncle. He’ll take us in the cart. We’ll stay a little while and come right back.” Madam Luo pinned the flower back in her hair.

An Yi frowned in resignation. After breakfast, she rode in the ox cart with Madam Luo to Shangtang Village. With a guest in the house and An Jian injured, An Kang stayed behind.

At the An household, Madam Zhu greeted them warmly and led them into the main room. The men were all working in the fields, so only Zhu and Ximei were home.

Two unfamiliar women were sitting in the main room.

“Aunt Chen, Aunt Zhao, this is my niece-in-law Qiumei, and this is Xier,” Zhu introduced, pushing An Yi toward the women.

Aunt Chen grabbed An Yi’s hand. “Just look at this little face—so pale and tender! And those eyes, so clear and bright. You can tell she’s a clever, well-mannered girl.”

An Yi frowned, suppressing her annoyance and not pulling her hand away.

Aunt Zhao looked An Yi over, up and down, then nodded in satisfaction.

“Madam Chen, Madam Zhao,” Madam Luo greeted them politely, thinking they must be relatives from Zhu’s side, come to help with Ximei’s wedding.

“Qiumei, I called you here today to share some wonderful news,” Zhu said beaming.

“I already know about Ximei’s marriage,” Madam Luo said with a smile.

Zhu waved a hand. “It’s not about Ximei—it’s about Xier.”

Madam Luo was taken aback. “Xier?”

“Xier is almost ten, soon to be a young lady. Her marriage can’t be delayed. Zhao’s youngest son is apprenticed at the Hundred Flavors Restaurant in town. In three years he’ll finish his training and become a master chef. If Xier marries him, she’ll live in comfort!” Zhu’s words tumbled out in excitement.

Aunt Zhao smiled smugly.

An Yi withdrew her hand and retreated to Madam Luo’s side. Her instincts had been right—Zhu was up to no good. She was only eight, not even nine, and they were already eager to marry her off.

Madam Luo’s expression darkened. “Aunt, Xier is still a child. It’s not time to discuss marriage.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Aunt Chen scolded. “An engagement is just a promise. It’s not as if she’ll marry tomorrow. If you wait until she’s fourteen or fifteen, it’ll be too late.”

“Boys can get engaged at fourteen or fifteen, but if a girl waits that long, she’ll be an old maid and never get married. Qiumei, don’t be foolish and ruin Xier’s future,” Zhu chimed in.

Aunt Chen pressed on, “Qiumei, Zhao is here herself, sincerely seeking this match. Once Xier marries in, she’ll treat her like her own daughter.”

“A good match like this won’t come again. Don’t set your sights too high. Even though Zhuzi is doing well, our An family is poor—no one to help us. Even if a sparrow flies onto a branch…” Zhu rambled on.

An Yi listened calmly, unbothered by their scheming, certain that Madam Luo would not be swayed.

“Aunt, Xier’s marriage is no concern of yours,” Madam Luo said coldly, cutting Zhu off. She took An Yi’s hand and headed for the door.

“Luo Qiumei, I’m telling you, this engagement is settled. Xier will marry him whether she wants to or not!” Zhu shouted after them.

Madam Luo stopped, let go of An Yi, and strode straight to the kitchen. She returned wielding two cleavers, brandishing them as she charged at Zhu.

It was the first time An Yi had seen her mother so fierce, and she was dumbfounded. So this is what they mean by ‘a woman may be weak, but a mother is strong.’

Zhu shrieked and stumbled back. Aunt Chen, shorter than Zhu, was blocked from seeing what was happening. When Zhu retreated, the two collided and nearly fell.

Madam Luo was upon them, a gleaming cleaver pressed to Zhu’s throat. She roared, “What right do you have to decide my Xier’s marriage? Her father is alive, I’m not dead—when did it become your place to speak? You’ve taken the property, the house, the grain—fine, those are just things, I won’t fight you over them. But now you want my daughter? You old witch, I’ll kill you!”

“No! Don’t kill me!” Zhu was so frightened she wet herself.

Aunt Chen and Aunt Zhao, trapped in the room and too scared to intervene, watched Madam Luo with terror, thinking it was lucky the match hadn’t gone through. With such a ferocious in-law, the household would never be at peace.

Just then, An Ximei, who had been sewing her dowry in a back room, came out at the commotion and cried, “Help! Murder!”

“Shut up!” Madam Luo barked.

Ximei shuddered and clapped a hand over her mouth.

Madam Luo glared at Aunt Chen and Aunt Zhao. “Listen well—if anyone tries to scheme for my Xier, I’ll cut them down. If I hear a single word of gossip, I’ll feed your heads to the dogs.”

With that, she slammed one cleaver into the doorframe with such force the wood trembled. She hadn’t lost her senses—Zhu had crossed her bottom line, unleashing all her pent-up frustration, but she still knew better than to kill.

Seeing the blade sunk deep into the wood, the three women trembled with fear.

“Did you hear me?” Madam Luo demanded.

“Yes, yes, we heard,” Aunt Chen and Aunt Zhao stammered, nodding furiously.

She turned to Zhu. “Did you?”

“Yes, yes, I heard,” Zhu’s mouth twitched uncontrollably with fright, drool soaking her collar.

Madam Luo slammed the other cleaver into the frame, snorted, and went to An Yi, taking her hand and leading her away.

After they’d walked some distance, Madam Luo turned and pulled An Yi aside. “Xier, were you frightened just now?”

“Mother, you were amazing!” An Yi grinned.

Madam Luo smiled wryly and stroked her cheek. “I’m sorry you and your brothers have had to suffer. I always thought, for the sake of family and your brothers’ reputations, I should endure as much as I could. I never expected them to go so far. At least this time I scared them, but who knows what they’ll try next.”

She sighed. “If only your father were home.”

“Mother, even if Father isn’t here, we have big brother. He’s a scholar now—even the local officials treat him with respect. Those ordinary folks are nothing; let big brother think of a way to deal with them.” An Yi’s eyes sparkled. Luckily, their family lived in a different village; otherwise, the trouble would be endless. Her father’s decision to move them before he left was truly wise.

Madam Luo smiled. “Alright, we’ll let your brother handle them.”

“Let’s go home, Mother,” An Yi said, taking her hand.

At the village entrance, Luo Chunli’s ox cart was still there; he was chatting with a teenage boy.

“Man Di!” Madam Luo called.

He turned, surprised. “Big sister, back so soon?”

“Yes.” Madam Luo lifted An Yi onto the cart, then climbed up herself.

“I’ll head back, then,” Luo Chunli told the boy, jumped onto the cart, and flicked the whip to send the ox plodding ahead.

When they returned to Jingtang Village, it was midday. An Kang had just finished cooking lunch. Seeing them return, he was not at all surprised.

That afternoon, Han Songyan returned to town, taking along the An family’s dried herbs.

Madam Luo told An Kang what had happened.

An Kang narrowed his eyes. “Mother, tomorrow I’ll go see great-uncle and have him rein in his wife.”

“If he could control her, would she be as unreasonable as she is now?” Madam Luo had no hope for An Younian.

“This time he will,” An Kang said coldly.

Author’s note: While writing this chapter, I recalled an aunt at our factory, usually timid and often beaten by her husband. One day, she snapped, smiled, and hacked him twice while he played cards. After that, he never dared hit her again.