Jiang Jianhua was squatting by the well, washing clothes. His hands were covered in soap suds. Hearing the noise in the yard, he straightened up and laughed, "Second Brother and Acheng's trip was worthwhile. Look at the size of these snails, we can definitely make a big plate of them tonight."
She draped Nian'an's little jacket over the bamboo pole, the elastic band at the cuffs swaying gently in the morning breeze. "Nian'an, come here quickly, let me put your new clothes on you, otherwise your feet will catch a cold from the dew."
Nian'an twisted her body in Fu Yuanshan's arms, pointing her little hand at the snails in the bucket: "Look, they're moving."
Fu Yucheng put down the reed and reached out to tickle his armpit: "If you keep making trouble, I'll have your second uncle put you in a bucket to keep the snails company."
The little guy immediately giggled and snuggled into Fu Yuanshan's arms, the silver longevity lock jingling in front of his chest.
Song Yushuang carried the millet porridge out of the kitchen, a thin layer of rice oil forming on the rim of the porcelain bowl: "Drink it while it's hot. I sprinkled some sesame seeds into the porridge, it smells delicious."
She handed the bowl to Fu Yuanshan and then filled another bowl for Fu Yucheng. "We need to repair the fence over the threshing ground today, so the chicks don't run in and ruin the grain."
Fu Yucheng slurped down his porridge: "I'll go after I finish eating. I can use the reeds I cut yesterday to make some fence posts."
After washing the clothes, Jiang Jianhua carried the wooden basin into the house. As he passed under the eaves, he caught a glimpse of the mugwort sachets and reached out to touch them. "These sachets are dry enough. I'll go and give a few to the neighbors."
She picked up the one embroidered with lotus flowers. "This is for Aunt Zhang. She always says she can't sleep well at night, and mugwort can calm her nerves."
Song Yushuang chimed in from the kitchen, "Take a few of the leftover longevity peach buns from yesterday with you. Aunt Zhang's grandson came to ask about them yesterday."
While Fu Yucheng was weaving reed mats, Nian'an squatted beside him playing with dough.
The little guy pinched the dough into oddly shaped pieces and stuffed them into the gaps in the reed mat. Fu Yucheng didn't stop him. Only when he was about to get the mat dirty did he grab his little hand and wipe it on the stone table: "If your second aunt sees this later, she'll nag you about being a little mud monkey."
Nian An blinked, grabbed a piece of dough and tried to put it in Fu Yucheng's mouth, which made him dodge: "You can't eat raw dough, silly boy."
As the midday sun grew hotter, Jiang Jianhua returned from town, carrying an oil paper package in his hand.
"I bought Nian'an a string of candied hawthorns," she said as she walked in, holding up the bright red hawthorn skewers. "They're freshly coated with sugar, and they're still crispy."
Nian'an immediately dropped the dough and pounced on it, licking the glistening sugar coating with her little tongue. Her eyes squinted from the sourness, but she couldn't bear to let go.
Xiao Lan followed Jiang Jianhua in, holding a pumpkin in her hands: "My mother's pumpkins are ripe, and she asked me to bring the biggest one."
She saw the reed mat woven by Fu Yucheng, reached out and touched it, "This mat is so soft, much more comfortable than the straw mat at home."
Fu Yucheng said with a smile, "After I finish knitting this for Nian'an, I'll knit a bigger one for you, which will be perfect to put next to your bed."
Song Yushuang was processing pumpkins in the kitchen, cutting the golden flesh into chunks: "We'll steam pumpkin cakes this afternoon, and make some pumpkin pancakes for the children to snack on."
Jiang Jianhua washed his hands and came to help: "I'll make some more honey water to go with the pumpkin cake to cut through the richness."
The two were busy in the kitchen, the pumpkin chunks piled up like a small mountain on the cutting board, and the sweet aroma wafted out of the window, prompting Nian'an to shout from the yard, "Cake, eat!"
Fu Yuanshan returned from the field with a bundle of greens on his shoulder, the leaves still glistening with water droplets: "I cast a net in the ditch this afternoon and caught a few crucian carp. I'll make fish soup for Nian'an tonight."
He put the fish into the basin of water. The silvery crucian carp swayed its tail in the water. "The soup made from this fish is milky white and very nourishing."
Jiang Jianhua smiled and replied, "Then I'll add more tofu to make the soup even more flavorful."
As evening approached, the aroma of stir-fried snails filled the entire courtyard.
Fu Yuanshan sprinkled some perilla leaves into the pot. The green leaves curled up in the bright red broth, instantly making the aroma even stronger.
"They're ready to serve," he said, scooping the snails into a large, rough porcelain bowl. "Did you send them to Aunt Zhang's?"
Jiang Jianhua nodded: "I sent it a long time ago. Aunt Zhang also asked me to bring you a bottle of her homemade bayberry wine."
Nian'an sat on a small stool with a small bowl in front of her containing snail meat that Fu Yuanshan had picked out.
He scooped up the snail meat with a small spoon and put it in his mouth, his little cheeks puffing out as he ate.
Song Yushuang fed him fish soup, saying, "Eat slowly, no one will take it from you."
Nian'an nodded with a spoon in her mouth, while holding a piece of pumpkin cake in her other hand, as if afraid someone would take it away.
After dinner, Fu Yucheng erected the repaired fence posts by the threshing ground, the moonlight casting long, thin shadows on the wooden poles.
“Now the chicks can’t squeeze in anymore,” he clapped his hands. “Tomorrow we’ll weave some more bamboo baskets to hold the autumn harvest of beans.”
Fu Yuanshan leaned against a tree trunk, smoking, the embers flickering in the darkness: "Tomorrow I'll go up the mountain to cut some bamboo, and while I'm at it, see if there are any wild chestnuts to roast for the kids."
Under the locust tree, Jiang Jianhua was sewing a red cloth bib for Nian'an, with silver thread embroidering a small longevity lock pattern on the cloth.
“Look at the pattern on this edging,” she showed it to Song Yushuang, “isn’t it prettier than the painting?”
Song Yushuang leaned closer to take a look: "It would be even better if the stitches were closer together. The child's skin is delicate, so we shouldn't let the loose threads irritate it."
Yun Tangyin sat beside her sewing shoe soles, occasionally helping to thread a stitch: "Once this bib is finished, Nian'an will wear it out, and I guarantee all the neighbors will praise it."
Nian'an lay on Song Yu's knees, playing with a tiger doll in her hands, her eyelids gradually growing heavy.
Jiang Jianhua put the bib into the bamboo basket: "It's getting cold, we should cover the child with a light blanket."
She got up, went inside, and grabbed a small blanket, gently covering Nian'an with it. "This child, she played so hard during the day, she can't even open her eyes now."
The moonlight climbed up the fence posts, casting long shadows over the locust tree courtyard.
Fu Yucheng and Fu Yuanshan sat on a stone bench drinking bayberry wine, the wine in their bowls reflecting the starry sky.
“Next spring, let’s cultivate the empty land in the east,” Fu Yucheng said, taking a sip of his wine. “We’ll plant some cotton, and in the fall we can make a new cotton-padded coat for Nian’an.”
Fu Yuanshan nodded: "I'll go learn to make a small spinning wheel and have Jianhua spin some cotton yarn for Nian'an so that the underwear I make will be more comfortable."
In the kitchen, Song Yushuang and Jiang Jianhua were still cleaning up the dishes. The sounds of water and the clinking of dishes were soft and gentle, like humming a tender tune.
Nian'an smacked his lips in his dream, probably still thinking about the pumpkin cake he hadn't finished eating. The silver glow of the longevity lock shone brightly in the moonlight, just like the smile on his lips, both of them were sweet as honey.
Life in this courtyard is like this slowly simmering fish soup. No need for too many seasonings, just the simplest ingredients, slowly stewed to create the most mellow flavor, making every ordinary moment feel warm and comforting.
As dawn broke, Fu Yuanshan set off up the mountain carrying a machete.
The morning dew dampened the mountain path, making it soft and spongy underfoot. Wild chrysanthemums were in full bloom by the roadside, their bright yellow petals glistening with dewdrops.
He cut down several bamboo stalks of uniform thickness and found a chestnut grove in the valley. Ripe chestnuts rolled out of their spiky shells, like tiny brown beads.
"The children are in for a treat now," he said with a smile as he packed chestnuts into a bamboo basket. "We'll stir-fry them when we get home; they'll be fragrant and soft."
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