Overture to Hibernation
The harsh winter is fast approaching.
The howling north wind completely blocked the muddy path leading from Kaoshan Village to the outside world, leaving only the monotonous howling of wind and snow between heaven and earth.
The heavy, fluffy snow blanketed the sky, enveloping the simple thatched hut, the fairly sturdy stone walls, the bare branches, and the entire world in a heavy, silent expanse of pure white.
Kaoshan Village has completely entered a hibernation period.
When Ling Zhan pushed open the wooden gate, carrying the nearly burst burlap sack.
Little Jinbao immediately jumped onto her shoulder, hugged her neck, and was incredibly affectionate.
A “winter rout” is unfolding in the front yard, enough to send any commander’s blood pressure soaring.
Shen Yan's hair was completely disheveled in the chaos, with the warbling feathers stuck in her hair becoming clumps of stubborn, sticking up here and there, making her look like a canary that had been rubbed by a naughty child and was trying to spread its tail feathers.
He was waving his arms, as if commanding a vast army, trying to direct a group of children wrapped up like little cotton balls to move the last batch of dried vegetables that had been drying under the makeshift shed into the newly built thatched shed that could barely keep out the wind and snow.
"Little stone! Basket! The bottom of the basket is dragging on the ground! It's full of snow water! The dried vegetables will mold!"
Chen Yan's voice was sharp with exasperation. He rushed over in a flash, his posture clumsy but his goal clear: to save the willow basket that was being dragged along by small stones and whose bottom had dug deep furrows in the snowy mud.
"Sanya! Let go! Those mustard tubers are for pickling vegetables! They're not for you to grind your teeth on!"
Just as he pressed down on the basket, he caught a glimpse of Sanya, with her hair in a high ponytail, clutching a dried mustard tuber that had been baked hard in the sun. Like a stubborn little squirrel, she was baring her little teeth and gnawing on it with great effort, her brows furrowed tightly, clearly making no progress.
"Ergou! Snot! Snot is dripping into the food! My God!"
He frantically reached for the relatively clean cloth in his pocket, but his elbow accidentally bumped into a big boy who was standing on tiptoe to reach the winnowing basket, causing him to stumble and fall with a cry of "Ouch!" The heavy winnowing basket flew out of his hand—
"Splash!" Golden corn kernels, like flowers scattered by a fairy, were enthusiastically splashed onto the snow.
The sound was like a horn signaling the start of a meal, instantly attracting several hungry sparrows that had been peeking out from the courtyard wall to swoop down, as well as the two speckled chickens in the yard that had been eyeing the area for a while and were now clucking and swooping down!
"Cluck cluck!"
"My corn!"
"Chicken! Bad chicken! Go away!"
The children screamed and pounced to chase the chicken away. Startled, the chicken flapped its wings and flew about, kicking up more snow and corn kernels. The scene was completely out of control, a veritable "snowy chicken and children jumping picture." Shen Yan's temples throbbed with veins. His only old blue robe, washed faded but still trying to look dashing, was now covered in mud on the front, snow water on the cuffs, grass clippings on the back, and several clear chicken claw prints on the shoulder.
With one hand, he futilely tried to catch the speckled pheasant that fluttered onto his head, clucking triumphantly and generously dropping a few black and white feathers. With the other hand, he tried to help Siya, who had fallen on her bottom while trying to catch the pheasant and was about to cry. He was like a peacock that had fallen into boiling water, losing all its tail feathers and leaving behind only a pathetic mess.
"Squeak—"
The sound of the wooden gate being pushed open was not loud amidst the chaotic noise, but it carried a strange penetrating power, like an icicle falling to the ground.
A biting wind, carrying icy snowflakes, suddenly rushed in...
That tall, aloof figure stepped into the mess, bringing with it the biting chill from outside.
Ling Zhan is back.
The heavy burlap sack on her shoulder, almost half her height, weighed down her shoulder line, a testament to the harvest of her trip.
Tiny ice crystals clung to her eyelashes, her cheeks flushed a pale red from the cold wind, and her breath condensed into a brief white mist in the frigid air.
He calmly swept his gaze over the radish heads rolling about, the chickens flapping, the scattered corn kernels and dried vegetables, and the disheveled, listless figure struggling futilely with the chickens. The chaos seemed to be instantly frozen by an invisible chill.
The screams, splashing, and giggling stopped abruptly.
She walked straight to the relatively dry ground under the eaves, barely sheltered by the thatched shed, and slammed the heavy burlap sack on her shoulder with a loud thud. The dull sound, like a tuning hammer, completely silenced all the noise in the courtyard.
"Everything is ready."
Her voice was not loud, slightly hoarse from a long journey and chilly with the cold of snow, yet it clearly pierced through the cold wind.
The children froze instantly, even the speckled hen that had jumped onto Chen Yan's head stiffened, its beady eyes fixed warily on Ling Zhan. All eyes were on the bulging, about-to-burst sack.
Shen Yan yanked the chicken off his head, looked at the sack, then at Ling Zhan's pale but still straight back, and his eyes flickered with a complex mix of emotions. The news spreading from town was too horrifying: one man, one sword, had destroyed the Black Tiger Gang's stronghold, and the evidence was thrown to the authorities…
The slight irritation he felt due to the chaos was strangely suppressed by the heavy bag of "survival guarantee".
But he still wouldn't let it go, scoffing, "Well... you're not bad at all."
Ling Zhan didn't even spare him a glance.
He deftly squatted down and untied the thick rope at the opening of the burlap sack.
With a 'rip' sound, the bag opened.
A warm, mixed scent—the unique fragrance of new cotton, the bitter aroma of dried herbs, the rich aroma of grains, and the savory smell of salted goods wrapped in oiled paper—sweeped through the air like a warm current breaking through the ice, instantly washing away the smell of chicken droppings and the coldness of snow water from the yard.
Her movements were swift and precise, as if she were taking stock of military supplies that could not be lost.
"Three catties of the finest green salt." The rough earthenware jar was sealed, its body icy cold, and she placed it steadily in a dry, sheltered corner.
"Two large jars of fermented soybean paste from Chen's Old Soybean Paste Shop." Shen Yan subconsciously swallowed. Just thinking about a bowl of hot soybean paste soup in the cold winter made her stomach warm.
"New cotton, forty catties."
A huge, fluffy, white cotton bale was forcefully dragged out, its dazzling whiteness standing out against the gray snowscape, instantly attracting everyone's attention. Even the speckled hen curiously approached, only to be driven back by Ling Zhan's cold, piercing gaze, and slunk away.
"Five bolts of thick, durable indigo coarse cloth."
"Lamp oil, two jars."
"Tung oil, a small jar, for repairing doors and windows."
"Three packets each of commonly used herbal remedies for colds, frostbite, and diarrhea." The ink on the paper packets was neat and legible.
"Fifty catties each of millet and foxtail millet."
"Ten pieces of salted pork and twenty salted fish."
The hard strips wrapped in oiled paper exuded a domineering yet tempting rich and salty aroma, causing the children to unconsciously sniff and stare intently.
"Two packets of maltose for the children."
The last oil paper package they took out seemed to possess a magical power, causing all the little eyes to instantly burst with an astonishing light comparable to the stars! Even Shen Yan couldn't help but glance at it quickly, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly.
The supplies were piled up like a small mountain, exuding a reassuring aura.
Ling Zhan stood up, his gaze sweeping over Shen Yan's disheveled robe before finally settling on his face, which was covered in mud, grass clippings, and even a black and white chicken feather. His voice was completely flat: "Your medicine, liniment for bruises and sprains, two boxes."
Before the words were even finished, the two flat blue-and-white porcelain boxes had already drawn a precise arc and steadily flew towards Chen Yan.
Shen Yan hurriedly caught the cold porcelain box. He paused for a moment, looking at Ling Zhan's expressionless face. The words "I'm already done!" stuck in his throat, and in the end he could only awkwardly hum "Mmm".
But he gripped the box tightly.
The cool touch of the plaster box on my palm made my lower back pain seem to return, even though it had already healed.
"besides."
Ling Zhan bent down and precisely pulled out another small bundle from the pile of things, tossing it to Shen Yan with equal ease. "Your winter clothes, a thick cotton-padded coat and trousers." The dark gray, unadorned coarse cloth bundle, with its fine and thick stitches like armor, was as simple and unpretentious as its owner, forming a stark contrast to Shen Yan's old blue robe, which was stained and dull in color but still tried to maintain its "stylishness."
Shen Yan instinctively caught it; it felt heavy in her hand, and the fullness, softness, and thickness of the new cotton could be felt through the coarse cloth.
He looked down at the drab, unattractive cotton coat, then at his own thin, worn-out blue robe that he had once been so proud of. A feeling mixed with disgust, embarrassment, and an irresistible warmth welled up in his heart.
"It's so ugly..."
He muttered something, not loudly, with his usual pickiness, but instead of immediately throwing it away in disgust as usual, he subconsciously hugged the bundle tighter to his chest. The cold wind, swirling with snowflakes, mercilessly lashed at his face; his thin robe was like a piece of paper, offering no protection whatsoever, while the undeniable warmth and allure of his thick cotton-padded coat surged.
Ling Zhan ignored his assessment.
Turning to the group of little ones who were eyeing the malt candy longingly but dared not misbehave due to her imposing presence, she softened her voice: "Candy, distributed after dinner. Now," her gaze swept over the scattered corn kernels and trampled dried vegetables on the snow, landing on Shen Yan, and she issued her first clear instruction of the day: "You, the older ones, gather up the corn kernels and dried vegetables you can, and put the rest in the chicken feed trough. The younger ones,"
She looked at the little ones with runny noses and red, frozen faces, and said, "Come inside and warm yourselves up on the kang (heated brick bed). Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes."
Her instructions were clear and logical, carrying an undeniable authority.
The children felt as if they had found their pillar of support, and the older ones immediately looked at Chen Yan.
The smaller ones pulled at each other, clumsily but obediently moving towards the warm, smoky main room.
Shen Yan, clutching the bundle of gray cotton-padded clothes, glanced at the mess on the ground, then at Ling Zhan's brisk back as he began tidying up the new cotton and cloth. His lips twitched. He felt like a wild horse harnessed to a plow—utterly frustrated!
Looking at the group of shivering little ones, their eyes filled with dependence as they gazed at him… and then at the pile of solid supplies that could help them get through the winter… he sighed resignedly, tossed his cotton-padded coat bundle onto the nearby haystack, rolled up the sleeves of his dirty blue cloth robe to reveal his smooth, mud-splattered forearms, and yelled irritably at the older children: “What are you looking at! Didn’t you hear me? Tiger! Start the fire! Bean Sprout! Go get some firewood. Er Gou! Get the winnowing basket! Big Girl! Pick up the vegetable leaves! Hurry up! Big Girl! Do you still want to eat?!”
The wind and snow were kept out by the heavy new door curtain.
Inside the main room, the newly built earthen kang (heated brick bed) was burning brightly, its dry heat dispelling the biting chill and warming one to the bone with a comforting sense of drowsiness. The firewood crackled in the stove, while a large iron pot simmered with salted pork and dried green beans. The aroma of the oil mingled with the fresh fragrance of the green beans, so rich it almost solidified, dominating the entire space and making one's stomach rumble with anticipation.
More than twenty children, like little animals that have found a source of warmth.
They huddled together on the warm kang (heated brick bed), gazing longingly at the dining table.
The little girl's nose twitched, but she waited obediently for her mother to speak before daring to pick up her chopsticks.
Of course, that little golden monkey is an exception!
It was already comfortably nestled on Ling Zhan's lap, its little paws tugging at his clothes, ready to be fed at any moment.
Ling Zhan gave the order: "Eat."
Shen Yan immediately transformed into the most efficient waiter, complaining, "Are you a reincarnated starving ghost? Slow down!" but his hands moved swiftly.
According to age, the hot soup and broken pieces of bread were neatly distributed into the rough earthenware bowls in front of the children.
The whole family then started eating together, quietly enjoying this simple yet warm dinner.
Today, Daddy made a soup with salted pork and green beans, and soaked some mixed grain pancakes in it.
After the meal, everyone was given a small piece of sweet, slightly sticky maltose.
Afterwards, they mostly became drowsy, their little faces flushed with satisfaction, occasionally smacking their lips as they savored the rare sweetness.
Only a few particularly energetic children were still playing house in the corner of the kang (heated brick bed) with scraps of cloth their mothers had brought back.
Shen Yan finally changed into that dusty new cotton-padded jacket and trousers.
Thick and warm, it kept out the cold, but it also completely concealed the last trace of "debonair" he had deliberately maintained.
He sat cross-legged on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed).
Stay far away from those brats, holding a piece of cloth in your hand.
She was wiping her golden hairpin, which had been stepped on by chicken feet and was covered in mud and snow during the day, with a look of disgust but also with great seriousness, while inwardly grumbling.
That old fellow Wang Fugui practically glued his eyes to the hairpin the last time he saw it, trying to restore its former brilliance.
The warm air and the thick cotton coat he was wearing relaxed his tense nerves, and his eyelids began to droop.
Just then, Ling Zhan's voice, though not loud, broke the warm tranquility like ice water: "Sit down and be alert."
The children jolted awake, rubbing their eyes and trying to shake off their sleepiness.
Not understanding why, he habitually sat up straighter and stared at her blankly.
Shen Yan abruptly stopped wiping the gold hairpin, raised her eyes, and looked at her with a hint of lingering drowsiness and utter wariness.
Ling Zhan was holding several thin wooden sticks that had been shaved exceptionally smoothly and whose ends had been carefully charred over a fire; these could be called simple charcoal sticks.
She walked to the earthen wall opposite the heated kang (a traditional heated brick bed), which had just been smoothed with yellow mud and was slightly shiny in the firelight, and clapped her hands.
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