Chapter 3

Zhao Deqian was first-rate at work. In less than two days, all the wheat was cut.

Soon tall stacks of wheat stood in the Zhao courtyard. Deguan was mischievous; every evening he insisted on climbing one and lying there.

I laughed at him. “Doesn’t it prick you? Those awns sting terribly.”

He shook his head like a rattle-drum. “My hide’s too thick for them to get through.”

After several days of threshing wheat, winnowing grain, and planting, the summer rush finally neared its end. I began making tofu.

With the five strings of cash Elder Great-Aunt Chen had lent us, I quickly bought a millstone, tofu boxes, cheesecloth, brine, and everything else we needed.

The family had harvested several dou of soybeans the previous year. They were ready at hand, stored in a great jar in the cellar.

Once all was prepared, Zhao Deqian and I soaked the beans beforehand and began work in the middle of the night.

The Qian mistress had a fussy palate and loved fresh, soft tofu. She was so finicky that she thought tofu bought on the street unclean and would eat only what was made in the little kitchen.

So I was thoroughly practiced at making it.

Grinding beans, filtering the pulp, boiling soy milk, adding the coagulant, filling the boxes, pressing it firm—by the time the sun hung high, two boxes of tender tofu white as congealed cream were ready.

The scallions in the courtyard were fresh and green, so I pulled two and made a plate of tofu dressed with scallions. I let Mother taste the first bite.

With trembling hands she lifted a mouthful with her chopsticks. The instant it touched her tongue, the wrinkles on her brow deepened with delight.

“Tender, sweet, fragrant! Second Wife, this tofu of yours is far too good!”

I beamed. “Then, Mother, do you think this business can work?”

“It can. Oh, Old Liu in the village died yesterday, and his funeral is today. Second, take several pieces of tofu over to the people handling things. If they lack hands, help out a little. We’re neighbors; we should do our part.”

I was curious. “But no one from the Liu family came to tell us.”

Mother turned serious. “For a happy occasion, you don’t go unless invited. For a funeral, you go without being asked. That’s the old rule among farmers.”

I had entered the Qian household as a maid when I was little, so I naturally knew nothing of country customs. Hearing that, my eyes unexpectedly grew hot. Farmers, I thought, had a great deal of human feeling.

I quickly picked out a dozen or so pieces of tofu, wrapped them carefully in cloth, and handed them to Zhao Deqian. “We’re poor, but don’t be stingy. Take a couple extra.”

Zhao Deqian gave me a quiet look, smiling as he carried the bundle away. Before the time it took to burn one incense stick, he was back.

“Mother, the Lius accepted the tofu and gave me a mourning sash. They have enough people, so I came home. It’s hot now; I’m going to town to sell tofu.”

Taoshui Village lay more than ten li from Taoyuan Town. Zhao Deqian set the two boxes of tofu on a shoulder pole and left. Once he was gone, I took advantage of the good sun to wash the household bedding and pillows.

Mother’s vision was blurred, and she managed housework only with difficulty. Before I entered the Zhao family, all she could do by feel was cook carelessly and keep chickens.

The Qian household used soap powder for laundry, but the Zhaos were too poor for that. I washed with water filtered through plant ash. It worked surprisingly well.

July was nearly here and the heat in the mountains grew stronger. The bedding on the line dried in less than two hours. I also combed Mother’s hair with a fine comb and made a pot of mung-bean congee.

While I combed her hair, Mother kept dodging away, a little embarrassed.

“Mother, why are you avoiding me?”

“I’ll comb it myself.”

“Let me help.”

“I—I wasn’t good to you before.”

Her awkward face made me laugh until I held my sides. “Ha! You’ve treated me quite well. Elder Great-Aunt Chen said you only have a sharp mouth; your heart is warm.”

“Heh, heh.” Mother chuckled foolishly too. “I won’t boast about anything else, but I’m not a bad person.”

The elusive Deguan appeared from nowhere again, holding an exquisitely made cricket cage.

“Where did you buy that? It’s quite nice.”

Deguan puffed up with pride. “I wove it from wheat straw.”

I gaped. “You made it yourself?”

“What else? I can weave palm fans, willow baskets, fish traps, baskets, cages—everything.”

Just then Zhao Deqian came through the gate with his shoulder pole. His expression said business had gone well, and when I asked, he said he had sold every bit of tofu.

“Fifty-six cash today, and a big sack of soybeans. Everyone who bought it praised how fresh and tender it was. The people who came late got none.”

“Really?” Mother called from the kang, stretching out her neck, her face flushed with excitement.

Zhao Deqian set the bag of cash in her hands. “Feel it.”

Feeling was not enough for her. She took out a coin and raised it to her mouth. “Let me bite it.”

“Mother, that’s filthy!”

I caught her hand, scolding playfully. She seemed both ready to cry and to laugh, and in the end tears really did fall.

“Ah—if we’d thought of doing a little business years ago, perhaps your father-in-law would not have died.”

At the mention of his dead father, even big, burly Zhao Deqian’s eyes reddened. “Mother, when we make money, I’ll get several packets of herbal medicine in town for your eyes.”

“Don’t worry, Mother. Our days will grow better and better. I heard Old Tian in the village knows acupuncture. Shall I ask him sometime?”

I could never bear to see an elder cry, so I hurried to comfort her.

But Mother wiped her tears and shook her head hard. “Absolutely not. Old Tian is blinder than I am!”

That interruption scattered the sadness in the room. Zhao Deqian was drenched in sweat, so I went to make a plate of tofu skin mixed with mountain greens.

The tofu skin had been left from the day’s work and cooled in the cellar. The greens I had dug at the foot of the hill. With salt, vinegar, and two drops of sesame oil, it became a crisp, lively country dish.

It was no delicate fare from a wealthy household, but in high summer there was nothing better for opening the appetite and cooling the heat.

Everyone in the Zhao family loved my cooking. Since I married in, Deguan’s cheeks had filled out, and he seemed to have grown taller already.

People said half-grown boys could eat their fathers into the grave. Deguan, shooting up as he was, truly could eat. At one meal he could roll up five or six mixed-flour flatbreads and slurp down a bowl of mung-bean congee in a few mouthfuls. Watching him made me dizzy.

Not because I disliked him. I was honestly afraid he would burst his stomach.

Having tasted the sweetness of selling tofu, Zhao Deqian was full of energy and decided at once to soak another dou of beans.

I gladly agreed. We soaked them early, blew out the candle early, and rose beneath the stars the next day before the chickens crowed to make tofu.

At the first cockcrow, Mother could not sleep either.

She felt her way into the crowded, cluttered kitchen and held out a sweet mountain apricot. “Second Wife, eat an apricot. You must be tired.”

In the morning light, I wiped the sweat from my temple and took it with a grin, popping it into my mouth. “Mother, you can bear to give me an apricot now?”

There was a locked cupboard by Mother’s kang, and who knew what good things she hid inside it.

I had seen her lock away apricots she could not bear to eat herself, then secretly give them to Deguan when no one was watching.

Poor families pampered their youngest; a loving mother treasured her last child. Mother had spoiled her precious youngest badly.

I had not expected the old woman to spoil me today too.

At my teasing, Mother pursed her lips in embarrassment again. She always had a knife for a tongue; even when her heart was kind, her words came out harsh.

“Eat it. There are more after—wasn’t I afraid you’d starve to death?”

“Listen to yourself, Mother.” Zhao Deqian shook his head with a smile, helpless before a mother who did not know how to speak gently.

Mother turned away in a huff. Watching her walk off step by step, Zhao Deqian looked at me full of guilt. “My mother doesn’t phrase things well. I apologize for her.”

I was filtering bean pulp. At his words I paused, then laughed loudly.

“What are you saying? I didn’t take it to heart at all. Mother had some prejudice against me at first, but now she’s learning to treat me well. I know that.”

Still uncertain, Zhao Deqian asked, “You truly don’t mind?”

I looked at him seriously. “I joined the Zhao family to live a life, not to trip over obstacles. If people live for obstacles, there’s always something to be angry about: one wrong word, one thing not to their liking, and they can beat each other’s brains into dog brains. In the end, homes break, people die, husbands and wives separate. But if people mean to live together, they must make allowances and look out for one another. Mother cannot say nice things, but I have my own faults in how I act. No one should pick at the other. Besides, you cannot only hear what a person says; you must see what they do. The Qian mistress smiled like honey, but she beat people, cheated people, sold people. Her heart was black.”

If I had not been young and naïve, I would not have been fooled by that smiling woman and gone stupidly to complain to her when I was wronged.

Luckily, though the Zhao family’s reputation stank, every one of them had a good heart. Otherwise I might truly have fallen into a mud pit for life and never crawled out.

Remembering those filthy old things, sorrow rose in me. As I made tofu, my heart turned cold.

Seeing tears glimmer in my eyes, Zhao Deqian did not know what to do. In the thin dawn light he looked at me for a long time, seeming to want to speak and stopping several times. At last he said only, firmly, “Don’t worry.”

Huh?

I had thought that after pondering for the time it took to drink a cup of tea, he would say some grand truth that might shake heaven. Instead, all I got was, “Don’t worry.”

Ah. Clearly I should not expect too much from a rough country man.

By the time the tofu was done, the sun had risen and Mother had cooked assorted-bean congee.

After eating, I was soaked through with tiredness. Deguan proudly brought a yellow-brown wheat-straw palm fan from his room.

“Second Sister-in-law, I made it for you. Do you like it?”

I took it in delight and immediately fanned myself wildly. Good heavens—the coolness came over me at once.

For all he was a boy, Deguan’s hands were more skillful than a young girl’s.

The fan’s edges were smooth, its wrapped corners neat, and it carried the faint scent of wheat. It was flawless. If taken to town, women and young ladies fond of novelties would surely like it.

“Deguan, you don’t like studying or farm work. What do you want to do when you grow up?”

He scratched his head, embarrassed. “I just like wandering around and fiddling with things.”

“Wandering where? Fiddling with what?”

“Wandering anywhere. If I see something interesting, I want to make one myself.”

“That’s good. The house is nearly out of oil. I want your second brother to catch some live game in the mountains and render fat. Could you make him a handy spear? But I’m warning you: we have no money. You’ll have to find a way yourself.”

Deguan grinned. “What’s hard about that? Just watch, Second Sister-in-law!”

At last this half-grown boy, always lazy and greedy for food, straightened his back. From the bottom of his heart, he felt useful.

We made four boxes of tofu that day. After eating, Zhao Deqian carried them to town again. Once I had cleaned the kitchen, I went up the mountain.

Mountains ringed Taoshui Village. The orchard plots on the slopes held many fruit trees. Mountain apricots had been picked half a month before, while pears, peaches, walnuts, persimmons, and other green fruit hung thick among the branches.

On the shaded slopes grew dandelions, purslane, and other wild greens. Soon I had dug two full baskets. After crossing a little hill, I saw clusters of rehmannia with pink blossoms and bupleurum with small golden flowers. The mountains were full of treasures. If I dug more herbs in autumn, surely I could add two dou of rice to the household.

When I brought the greens home, Zhao Deqian had not returned. I took the fish trap to the river and caught a little fish and shrimp.

Some bean pulp remained from making tofu that morning. I mixed it with mixed flour and washed, chopped purslane, and made a pot of purslane steamed cakes.

By the time the cakes, stewed river catch, and mung-bean congee were on the table, Zhao Deqian came back with his pole.

“I sold more than a hundred cash worth today and took in over twenty jin of soybeans. Four or five pieces of tofu were left. On my way back I passed the Chen house and left the rest with Elder Great-Aunt. She chased after me, insisting on paying. I would not take it, so she forced a piece of cured pork on me.”

Looking at the long, fat piece of cured pork on his pole, I laughed in exasperation. “She forced it on you and you took it?”

Zhao Deqian was helpless too. “Elder Great-Aunt said that if I refused, I was not allowed through her door next time.”

Only after nearly a month in Taoshui Village did I realize I had spent the first ten-odd years of my life at the Qian household in vain.

Compared with wealth, it was these plain customs, this warm help, and the hearts determined to build a good life out of cinders that were truly what living was about.