Chapter Thirty-Two: The Fragrance of Rice Blossoms

Ping’an Village.

The sun was already high in the sky.

Lu Kun was considering whether, in a little while, he ought to ask Liu Liping to look around the village and arrange a marriage for Shitou. Yet, judging by Shitou’s recent demeanor, it seemed as if he had already taken a liking to some girl. Lu Kun stroked his chin, pondering, but then dismissed the thought.

“I haven’t heard of him getting close to any girl in or out of the village,” he mused. “Could it be that he’s developed real feelings for one of his so-called good sisters and is so enamored that he’s lost all sense of home?” Lu Kun’s expression turned to one of alarm. “No, that won’t do!” he thought. “It’s fine for Shitou to play with those women, but to marry one of them is out of the question. None of those women are good matches! If it really came to marriage, Shitou would be wearing a green hat from head to toe.”

“It seems I must make arrangements to introduce Shitou to a good girl as soon as possible,” Lu Kun decided, rubbing his chin as he paced the room.

He had no idea where Shitou had gone at the moment, but Lu Kun figured he ought to check in at home. After all, his mother-in-law was still at home.

...

“Oh, Kunzi, did you really go out drinking for a whole night?” Li Xiuqin scolded him with her mouth, but her actions betrayed her as she turned back into the house to pour her son-in-law a bowl of water.

“Mother-in-law, you don’t need to go to such trouble. I’m already sober,” Lu Kun said.

“A little water in the morning not only helps clear the alcohol but is good for your health,” she replied.

Unable to refuse his mother-in-law, Lu Kun could only drink down the entire large bowl of water.

The water sloshed in his stomach as he moved about, and though he’d woken up with a slight sheen of sweat, the cool boiled water revived him considerably.

“Kunzi, why don’t you go back to your room and catch up on some sleep?” Li Xiuqin suggested, seeing him yawn repeatedly.

“No, no need,” Lu Kun quickly waved her off. In truth, he hadn’t gotten to bed very late the night before, despite having drunk himself into a stupor. He was only a bit groggy now, but he feared that if he did go back to sleep, he’d oversleep. He wasn’t opening his stall this morning, but the afternoon hours could not be allowed to slip away idly.

He still had some money left, and Lu Kun planned to drive his tractor around the nearby towns in the evening to buy another load of sand ginger. The price for sand ginger had already started to rise slightly in the markets these past few days. This was almost the last good chance to buy in; in another week or so, the price would climb day by day.

This was the time when only a fool would let money slip through his fingers!

Lu Kun had already decided: he’d make this last round of purchases, then lay low and wait for the right moment.

...

“Kunzi, how much grain did your family harvest in the autumn this year?” Li Xiuqin asked, seeing that Lu Kun had brought out a lounge chair to sun himself in the yard instead of going back to bed, and struck up a conversation.

“Huh?” He was momentarily confused. Oh right, his family had autumn crops to harvest.

He smacked his forehead and looked at his mother-in-law. “Mother-in-law, I completely forgot about that.”

He was a bit embarrassed. In the past, Liu Liping had always managed the fields, but ever since the vigorous family planning campaign had started in the village, Liu Liping had sent Lu Kun to the city. After that, he’d been so busy chasing after money that he’d entirely forgotten about the crops in the fields.

“What?” His mother-in-law, Li Xiuqin, stood up abruptly, utterly stunned. How could anyone forget something like that? Did he think this was like a cat planting fish and not bothering to harvest them?

By this time of year, everyone else’s autumn grain had long since been brought in. Anyone could see, just by walking around, the look of the fields after the harvest. How could he forget?

“Then... do you still have any summer grain at home?” Li Xiuqin swallowed back the words she’d been about to scold him with.

“Uh... all the rice at home comes from the town market,” Lu Kun replied sheepishly.

He’d simply gotten used to it: whenever the rice jar ran low, he’d go to town to buy some more, completely forgetting that his own family even had fields.

“You... you...” His mother-in-law’s finger trembled so much it nearly jabbed him in the eye.

Li Xiuqin was genuinely shocked by this family. How could country folk live like this?

“You’re still lying here? Get up and harvest the grain!” Her good temper was gone, and she nearly screamed as she chased Lu Kun out to work.

The Lu family had only two acres in total: over an acre of rice, the rest set aside by Liu for vegetables. Everyone else had finished harvesting ages ago; only the Lu family’s fields were still standing.

The rice had suffered from pests, drastically reducing the yield. Li Xiuqin clutched her chest in distress. And such anger needed an outlet. She couldn’t very well vent it on her son-in-law, but there was nothing wrong with scolding her daughter.

...

Thus, Li Xiuqin found a new excuse to berate Liu Liping, grumbling away without pause.

For all her brashness, Li Xiuqin was truly skilled at farm work. The more she scolded, the harder she worked, her mouth rattling on like a Gatling gun. In no time at all, she’d cleared a large patch of the field.

Lu Kun was no expert at harvesting rice and, after a round of complaints from his mother-in-law, gave up and took over hauling the cut rice and dried stalks home. The work was exhausting, not heavy but requiring many trips back and forth.

If only they had a threshing machine, it would save so much effort.

After a few trips, Lu Kun’s shoulders ached terribly. Even a light rub made him grimace in pain. Adhering to the principle of “sharing hardships,” he decided to rope in Shitou as well.

He knocked on his door. “Shitou, stop sleeping—come help me out.”

Lu Kun didn’t stand on ceremony, dragging him straight from his bed to help haul the rice.

Shitou lived alone, so he didn’t bother farming. He had received a plot in the land division years ago but had always let his third uncle farm it. It wasn’t laziness—his work often kept him away from home, so instead of neglecting the fields, he let someone else manage them and took a yearly share of grain.

“Hey, this young lad is strong—a real worker,” Li Xiuqin exclaimed as she watched Shitou expertly shoulder the rice baskets, her eyes lighting up in admiration.

“Ah, back in the day before I was married, I was no worse than Shitou. Now... well, say no more, it only brings tears,” Lu Kun thought as he found a rare moment to let his mind wander.

Seeing his mother-in-law’s gaze grow ever more amiable toward Shitou, Lu Kun felt a twinge of jealousy.

“Build the seven-star stove, set the copper kettle to boil water from the three rivers. Lay out the Eight Immortals table, welcome guests from sixteen directions. All who come are guests, and everything depends on what you say. Greet each other with a smile, and think nothing of it afterward. Once the guests are gone, the tea grows cold. What’s there to fuss about?”

Shitou’s eyes sparkled as he sang. After all these years of brotherhood, Lu Kun had never expected him to carry a tune with such style.