Chapter 4
Chapter 4
And discipline me she did.
She pinched my ear, hauled me home, then sat down and asked between breaths, “Stealing is wrong. Do you understand?”
I shook my head.
I truly did not know. When hunger became unbearable, I stole a few vegetables or sweet potatoes from most households in the village. Only a few people ever cursed me for it, and I never went back to those homes. The others said nothing. The village chief, especially—sometimes, if he saw me, he even placed an egg in my hand.
After hearing my explanation, Mother sighed.
“That’s right. You stole from my house too. Who would argue with a child who had no father or mother?”
Then her face turned stern.
“But things are different now. If you want to be my daughter, you are never to steal again. Do you understand?”
I nodded hard. “I understand, Mother. From now on, no matter what you say, I’ll understand.”
As long as she agreed to be my mother, I would believe her if she said the privy smelled sweet.
My nod seemed to satisfy her a little.
“Where is the rice?”
I pointed to the kitchen, where I had stored the millet dragged over from the shack.
Mother scooped out a heaping bowl, took my hand, and led me outside.
“When we reach the village chief’s house, you will apologize and repay him with this millet. Understood?”
Her hand was so warm that even if we truly had walked past a privy, I thought it might have smelled sweet.
Many people had gathered at the village chief’s home, apparently to discuss preparing for winter.
Winters here were bitterly cold. Snow sealed off the village, so every household had to cut and store enough firewood before it came.
I hated winter most. I could gather only small branches and steal a little from this home, a little from that one. Then, for one long month, no one came except Uncle Liu, who checked on me occasionally because he was afraid I might freeze or starve to death.
The snow was too white.
It was so white that being alone felt especially pitiful.
This year, I would not be pitiful. But if I could no longer steal, where would our firewood come from?
While I worried, Mother nudged me and handed me the bowl.
“What are you supposed to say?”
Just as she had taught me at home, I bowed solemnly.
“Uncle Village Chief, I’m sorry I stole your red dates yesterday. This bowl of millet is to repay you. I swear I’ll never steal again.”
Everyone in the courtyard stared at me in astonishment.
“What did the little beggar say? She won’t steal anymore? Then how will she live?”
“By working. Seven is old enough. To tell the truth, if she kept stealing, I’d stop tolerating it.”
“Widow Yu brought her here. Is she really taking the girl in?”
“It’s good to adopt after losing her own son, but why take a girl? She’ll marry out eventually.”
My self-chosen name was Little Liuer, though most people never used it. They were accustomed to calling me Little Beggar.
Mother took my hand and raised her voice above their buzzing gossip.
“From now on, this child has a proper name. She will take my surname and be called Yu Zhen—the Zhen that means ‘treasure.’ Thank you all for feeding her and tolerating some of her bad habits. But if she ever steals again, come tell me. I’ll break her legs myself.”
Someone in the crowd called back, “We certainly will! If a child with a mother still steals, that means she wasn’t raised properly. We won’t indulge her then.”
Everyone laughed.
The village chief accepted my millet, poured it into a bowl inside, and returned with a red envelope.
“Taking in a daughter is a major occasion. Don’t think it too little—it’s merely a token from me.”
Mother tried to refuse, but the village chief frowned.
“This is ordinary courtesy between neighbors. What, you don’t plan to have anything to do with the village anymore?”
Of course we did. We still lived here.
Mother accepted the envelope. At home, we opened it and found ten copper coins—the same gift given whenever a family welcomed a newborn.
Before long, one villager after another arrived with another ten-coin red envelope.
Hahaha! Now the whole village knew I had a mother!