Extra Fourteen

I have very good hearing, and I heard what my third brother said clearly. I smiled and said, "Yes, I also think my family is very, very good, and my father is also very, very good."

There was envy in my third brother's eyes. I was very proud at that time. Yes, my father and I had found a very good home. I couldn't bear to see my third brother unhappy, so I said to him, "Then I'll look again recently. If I find another cave like ours, I'll let you know."

My third brother had probably never seen anyone like me before, and he finally smiled. He ate a large piece of chicken and drank quite a bit of chicken soup at my house. I noticed that he had a satisfied smile on his face the whole time.

Father ate in silence without saying a word.

Later, my third brother came to my house more and more often. Every time he came, he would bring something, sometimes a pheasant, sometimes a rabbit. In any case, he never came to my house empty-handed.

Winter was so cold; my third brother's hands and feet were covered in chilblains. I felt that life in the village down the mountain was worse than my father's and my own. I stuffed the cleaned and dried rabbit skin into my third brother's tattered, almost sparsely padded cotton coat.

My third brother told me it was very warm. He was happy to meet me.

I was also very happy because, apart from talking to my father, I had hardly ever spoken to anyone else. My third brother told me a lot about things in the village, which I found extremely interesting and fascinating, as I had never heard of them before.

The way Father looked at Third Brother was different now, but Father's cough was getting worse. I asked Father how to cure him, and he said he'd be better in heaven. I don't know why Father wanted to go to heaven, I don't know if life there is good, and I don't want to go.

My father smiled at me. My third brother came again that day. My father asked me to go outside and roast a rabbit. I don't know what my third brother and father talked about at home, but when my third brother came out, the way he looked at me was different.

He squatted by the fire, roasting a rabbit with me. He asked me, "Cui Cui, will you be my wife?"

I stared at him with bewildered eyes, not understanding what "wife" meant. My third brother leaned forward, kissed me on the cheek, and quickly pulled away. I saw his face turn red, a different kind of red from the cold in winter.

I didn't know what my third brother meant, so I ran home and asked my father, "Father, is it okay if my third brother asks me to be his wife?"

Father smiled at me and said, "Alright! Father agrees. Cui Cui is a good child, and your third brother will love you for the rest of his life."

"Then I'll listen to Father." He skipped away again to continue roasting the rabbit.

That summer, it rained heavily. I remember it rained for three days straight. My father stretched out his hand to me with difficulty, "Cui Cui."

I followed, and I seemed to understand something, but I didn't quite grasp it. My father patted my hair. "Cui Cui, your father is going to heaven. After your father is gone, find a place to dig a hole and bury your father's body."

If Father's body isn't buried, Father can't go to heaven, do you understand?

My father spoke with great difficulty, but he tried his best not to pause. I nodded. "Father, go in peace. Life in heaven must be better than here. Father, when you get to heaven, you must find a good house to live in. Don't wander around in the mountains anymore. There are too many wolves in the mountains, it's not safe."

Father smiled, but ultimately couldn't say another word. The moment Father closed his eyes, I cried, cried very, very loudly. How could I not know?

My father and I lived in this house for so long, and I saw many villagers from the foot of the mountain carrying a wooden box up the mountain to bury it. My third brother told me that whenever I saw that scene, it meant that another person had died.

My father died. He said he went to heaven. I really wish he had gone to heaven. I didn't want him to worry about me, so I pretended not to know.

I braved the rain to find an open space. The ground there was soft. My father said that if I didn't bury him, he wouldn't be able to go to heaven. I won't hold my father back.

I braved the rain and started digging with the only small shovel in the house. When I had dug down half a meter, my third brother arrived.

I will never forget that moment. In the white mist of rain, a boy, soaked to the bone, was carrying a shovel and running up the mountain. Although he would slip and fall every few steps, he would get up and keep going.

He staggered to my side, my tears mingling with the rain, and I shouted at him, "Third Brother, my father is dead, I have no home anymore."

He pulled me into his arms; he was ice cold, but I felt safe.

He said, "Cui Cui, you have a home, and you have me. The two of us are a home. In the future, we will have many, many children, and they will also be our family. Our home is very, very big."

My third brother and I buried our father together. I told him I didn't know how to make a wooden box, and he blushed, saying he didn't know how either. Besides, he didn't have any money and couldn't afford one.

My third brother said it wasn't safe for me to be alone on the mountain and told me to come home with him. I looked at him questioningly, "Third brother, didn't you say my home was nice? Can't we continue to live here? It's closer to Father here."

My third brother held my hand and told me very seriously, "We are all human beings, and we should live in the village; it's safer that way." I didn't understand; I was safe in the mountains too.

My third brother told me that there used to be constant fighting down the mountain, and my father and I lived on the mountain to escape the war. Now that the fighting has stopped, everyone can farm properly. We go down the mountain together to farm, and then we'll have food to eat. We don't have to go hungry anymore.

I followed my third brother down the mountain, completely bewildered. But the people down there were cannibals.

The first time I saw my third brother's mother, she immediately called me a "little whore" who had her son unable to resist her. I didn't know what a "little whore" meant, but I thought the name sounded awful.

My third brother said he wanted to marry me, and my mother beat him severely. He wouldn't give in no matter what. In the end, the villagers couldn't stand it anymore and came to take her away.

But she wouldn't let me and my third brother into the house, saying she wouldn't acknowledge him as her son anymore. I was puzzled; can you even acknowledge a son? My third brother said he was born.

Third Grandma was a good person; she took in Third Brother and me.

Gradually, I understood many things. I also learned about matters between men and women. My third brother and I worked in the fields together, and after the autumn harvest, my third grandmother officiated at our wedding.

In a clearing at the very back of Qiligou, Third Brother dried a lot of adobe bricks and prepared a lot of straw. Together with Third Brother and a few of his friends, we built three houses.

My third brother and I moved into the house when it was still wet. My third brother said we couldn't keep troubling Grandma.

That evening, my third brother held me in his arms and said, "Cuicui, let's have a baby. That way our home will be even bigger."