A large bowl of pure mutton was placed neatly in front of the old village chief.
In the very center of the table is mutton stew with radish.
The surrounding area was filled with vegetable and egg drop soup, stir-fried loofah, steamed eggplant, and a large basket of roasted potatoes.
The adults in the family were fine, but the children cheered with delight when they saw that there was meat and eggs.
The Li family enjoyed a particularly pleasant and lively dinner.
The Fan family was not so comfortable.
There were many people, and they were not from the same family. The children were running around noisily, which made Fan Qian very upset.
After scolding him several times, it had no effect at all. Instead, it drew angry stares from Aunt Fan and Fan Damu's wife, who felt that he, as an elder, was mistreating the child and could not tolerate him.
Thinking back to the days when Da Ya, Er Ya, Jiang He Hu, and others were always quiet and careful in this house, always eager to do chores, and then comparing that to the noise of them running and playing around that was about to lift the roof off, Fan Qian felt his head ache even more and his body felt even weaker.
And what's even more critical is that there isn't enough firewood!
Normally, firewood is nothing special; you can just gather it anywhere. But this torrential rain is a real problem.
Aunt Fan, her daughter-in-law, and her mother and daughter-in-law have had several arguments over firewood!
They argued about almost every meal, even about boiling water. It was always about who used more straw or who took longer to cook.
My wife says we're out of oil and not much salt left.
I only dared to eat two meals a day of dark flour and vegetable porridge, which had little to no salt flavor, and my stomach was always hungry.
"Dad, are you really not going to pick up Zhaodi?" Fan Erzhu thought that their relationship with his uncle's family was not good. His uncle was raising Zhaodi, and what would they do if he came to ask for food later? The family didn't have much food.
Fan Dazhu was more concerned about the dike construction. "Dad, are we really not going to help with the dike construction? Will the old village intervene and force us to contribute our labor and sacks?"
Fan Qian squatted on the threshold. The darkness of the sky was not as dark as his gloomy face, and the torrential rain was not as chaotic as his troubled mood.
Hearing her son's words, she coldly replied, "I won't take him. Let your uncle support him, and it'll save our family food."
The old village chief isn't the government; why should we be forced to repair things just because they tell us to?
"Not repairing it isn't a heinous crime, and he can't kick us out of the village, so what's there to be afraid of?"
The four eldest sons breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing this.
Then I realized he was just a village head, yet he was acting like some kind of high-ranking official.
Previously, their mother had pushed Er Ya down the mountain, which would have been punished if it had gone to the authorities. That's why the old village chief had intervened and they had to pay compensation.
Zhang the Bald did something wrong that time, which angered many people.
This time is different; they don't want to keep holding a knife to their throats.
Fan Damu, on the other hand, was even more self-righteous.
They've lost their houses, so why should they be allowed to build the dam?
If we don't build it, what can we do to them? The old village chief can't even threaten them.
He was more concerned with where to get firewood and food than with building the dike.
The downpour had only just begun, and he had already eaten several meals of porridge, yet his stomach had never felt full!
When people are hungry, they feel inexplicably irritable and restless.
He lay on the bed, his clothes pulled up, and tried to turn over but couldn't because there were people on both sides.
The torrential rain outside continued relentlessly, making those who heard it even more annoyed.
Bai Ziqian lay on the large bed, which was covered with clean and soft bedding. Unlike when he was squeezed into the thatched hut and couldn't stretch his legs, he could now stretch his legs and roll around however he wanted.
After a day of classes and a satisfying meal, he should have been drifting off to sleep, but he was suddenly jolted awake!
He sat up abruptly, panting heavily with his mouth open.
Cold sweat beaded on his forehead.
In my dream, my father was swept away by a flood.
Impossible. His father was in the Bai family mansion in Nandu; how could he have been swept away by the flood...?
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