Chapter 5
Chapter 5
The first thing Mother did as my mother was patch my trousers.
She cut up her own old clothes to mend the hole over my bottom, then made me two new outfits.
They were no longer one thin layer. She stuffed them with willow fluff and reed flowers.
That night, after touching those clothes and waiting until Mother fell asleep, I cried.
It was not only because of the clothes. It was because, for the first time, I felt as though someone truly considered me a person.
I dimly understood then. No one had ever taught me that stealing was wrong because, in their eyes, keeping me alive was kindness enough. They did not care what kind of person I became or what principles I ought to learn.
They were good people.
But none of them was as good as Mother.
I was so clever. A mother was a marvelous thing, and I had managed to latch on to one.
When she saw my eyes swollen like walnuts, she gave me a rare smile.
“Look at you. Hiding under the quilt and crying over a few clothes. Get up. You’re coming to cut firewood with me today.”
My mother was not a fragile woman. A widow raising a child alone could not afford fragility.
Yet she had spent too long in bed, and cutting wood exhausted her.
Within a quarter of an hour, sweat covered her brow. My heart ached. I snatched the ax from her, but I did not have enough strength to bite into the tree.
While I stood there helplessly, a pair of large hands took the ax from me.
Thud, thud, thud.
In a few strokes, the stranger cut the tree into sections and swiftly tied them with hemp rope.
He was an enormous, towering man. Winter was almost here, yet he wore only a thin, single-layer garment. I secretly touched his hand. It was not cold at all. It was burning hot.
Wow.
If we kept him in the house during winter, would he warm it like firewood?
Mother refused to take the logs. Leaving them where they lay, she said, “Thank you, little brother, but you can help us once, not forever. We must cut our own.”
She picked up the ax and called me toward the next tree.
There was no one in the village I did not know, yet I had never seen that uncle before. The moment we came down the mountain, I ran to ask Liu Xiaohua about him.
Oh, right. Ever since my trousers no longer had a hole, Liu Xiaohua had finally agreed to play with me.
She broke off a tiny corner of her most precious candy.
“Since you have a mother now and won’t steal mine, I suppose I can play with you a little.”
Apparently, she had once eavesdropped on Aunt Tian and Uncle Liu discussing whether to adopt me. She had cried so miserably that Aunt Tian abandoned the idea. That was why she disliked me—she thought I wanted to steal her mother.
Liu Xiaohua pouted.
“I have only brothers. I’m the only girl in my family. The flower ornaments Mother makes are mine, and the candy Father buys is saved for me. I don’t want to share them with you. Isn’t that reasonable?”
I touched my new clothes.
Yes. Very reasonable. I did not want to share anything Mother made with anyone either.
Candy was expensive, and Xiaohua did not share hers with other children. Since she had given some to me, we were now best friends.
After carrying the wood home, I ran to her.
“Xiaohua, Xiaohua! Do you know the newcomer in the village? The really tall, strong one?”
Her large eyes sparkled.
“Of course. He moved here half a month ago. He bought the broken shack where your mother used to live, so he’s one of us now.”
I had spent the past few months caring for Mother. No wonder I had not known.
He was so strong with an ax. I wanted to hire him to cut wood. Mother said I could not steal, but hiring someone must be allowed.
I ran to the old shack and held out twenty copper coins.
“Uncle, can I hire you to cut firewood for my family for five days?”
Mother had given me the coins from our pile of red envelopes, calling them my lucky money.
Landlord Zheng paid me twenty coins for five days of transplanting rice. Cutting wood should cost about the same.
I looked up expectantly. He took the money, his face expressionless, and nodded.
“All right. I’ll go up the mountain tomorrow.”