Spring thunder
Springtime in Kaoshan Village is awakened by a muffled clap of thunder.
Thunder rumbled across the mountains, silent all winter, and the frozen streams cracked softly and unsettlingly deep within.
The icicles dripped from the eaves.
The damp earthy scent, mingled with the fresh aroma of sprouting plants, forcefully dispelled the last trace of winter's chill.
As the snow melts, large swathes of brown earth are exposed, as if the earth has shed its winter coat and revealed its bosom, eager to be written.
This spring is destined to be anything but peaceful.
Just after the Spring Festival, Shen Yan secretly orchestrated the event, with Ling Zhan coldly tacitly approving it.
The ancestral hall "riot," which finally broke out under the leadership of several young men who had had enough of Wang Fugui's exploitation, was like a boulder thrown into stagnant water.
When Wang Fugui and his few sycophantic nephews...
The opening day was blocked in a corner of the ancestral hall by angry villagers.
When the pent-up resentment turned into real fists and spittle, the invisible, decaying sky above Kaoshan Village was completely pierced.
Li Qingshan, who was young and strong, had a few years of schooling, was fair and hardworking, was elected as the new village head.
With the Black Tiger Gang wiped out in Linshan County, most villagers no longer feared Wang Fugui's wealth and power, and naturally supported this change wholeheartedly.
When the news reached the small courtyard at the west end of the village.
Ling Zhan was sitting on the threshold, facing the slightly chilly but clear sunlight of early spring, carefully wiping her newly forged short blade.
A cold, bluish light flowed across the blade's edge, reflecting in her focused and calm eyes.
On the ground nearby, leaning against the side, was the flashy longsword that had been seized from the Black Tiger Gang leader.
The scabbard was inlaid with a few cheap gems, and the hilt was wrapped with faded red silk, exuding the tacky air of a nouveau riche.
This sword has now become Shen Yan's new favorite.
At this moment, he was standing under the bare old jujube tree in the center of the courtyard.
He gripped the longsword, which was somewhat heavy for him, with one hand, trying to strike what he considered a dashing and unrestrained pose.
He stepped forward with his left foot, pushed off with his right foot, leaned his body slightly backward, and raised his chin, trying to imitate the demeanor of a famous general making his entrance on stage.
Unfortunately, he lost his balance and his foot was poked by a protruding rock, causing him to sway and almost stumble.
"cough!"
He steadied himself, feigning composure, and clumsily flicked his wrist, attempting a sword flourish.
The sword was heavy, and his wrist strength was insufficient, so the "flower" he was twirling was crooked and the tip of the sword almost poked the hem of his newly changed silk robe.
"Tsk, this broken sword is so unwieldy!"
Shen Yan muttered a complaint under his breath, but immediately straightened up, cleared his throat, and spoke loudly to Ling Zhan's back.
"Hey! You lowly scoundrels, upon seeing this 'Green Edge' sword in my hand, you'd better... uh, bow down and pay your respects!"
He originally intended to use "to lay down his neck for execution," but felt that the phrase was too murderous and did not suit his handsome image, so he changed his words at the last minute.
Ling Zhan didn't even lift his eyelids, his fingertips intently tracing the cold edge of the short blade, as if confirming every bit of its sharpness.
Seeing that the only audience member had no reaction, Shen Yan was not discouraged, or rather, his desire to perform had overwhelmed his embarrassment.
He abandoned his awkward posture, used his longsword as a cane, and rushed to Ling Zhan in a few strides, his eyebrows dancing with excitement.
"My wife! My wife! Guess what? It's done! Our great undertaking is a success!"
He danced with excitement, his sword swaying wildly in his hand.
"You didn't see the scene in the ancestral hall! That old dog Wang Fugui was scared green! His lackeys and nephews, aren't they usually so arrogant? In front of our united elders of Kaoshan Village, they're just paper tigers! They'll break at the slightest touch!"
He took a deep breath, puffed out his chest, and his face was full of smug satisfaction, as if to say, "Ask me for details!"
"At crucial moments, you still have to rely on your husband! You have no idea what the atmosphere was like, so tense and on the verge of disaster! It was me! Shen Yan! I rushed forward and engaged in a verbal battle with the group... uh, a verbal battle with Wang Fugui! I was so passionate and eloquent! I quoted extensively from classical texts! From the creation of the world by Pangu to the laws of the Great Yin Dynasty, from their bullying of men and women to their exorbitant taxes! Every word was reasonable and every sentence was piercing! That old dog was speechless and his face turned ashen! The villagers were thrilled and indignant! Tsk tsk, I'm not bragging, the scene was so lively, they almost applauded me!"
He became more and more excited as he spoke, as if he were truly a peerless hero who had turned the tide, his peach blossom eyes gleaming with the light of "Praise me for my wit and bravery."
"How was it? My wife, don't you think I was a master strategist, winning the battle outside the ancestral hall? My eloquence, my courage, this... hmm?"
He was getting into the swing of things, waiting for Ling Zhan to even give him a surprised look, but all he heard was an extremely calm voice:
"Um."
Ling Zhan finally stopped wiping, but his gaze remained fixed on the short blade. His fingertips brushed across the edge of the blade again, his eyes as calm as a frozen lake, without a ripple.
The radiant smile on Shen Yan's face, which had just been beaming and seemed to radiate light, froze instantly.
That eloquent, commanding manner was instantly extinguished, as if a bucket of ice-cold water had been poured over his head.
His upright chest slowly slumped, and the sword he was using as a "crutch" clattered and fell to the ground at his feet.
She looked like a punctured balloon, visibly deflated, even her carefully combed sideburns seemed to droop a bit.
He muttered under his breath, "...They don't know what they're talking about."
He moved aside listlessly.
Spring thunder roars, and all things come to life. The awakening land of Kaoshan Village brings with it the most pressing issue—spring plowing.
The two plots of land under Ling Zhan's name were in a remote location, with barren soil and stones so numerous they looked like tumors growing in the ground.
After harvesting the winter wheat planted last year, we were able to barely produce enough food to make ends meet.
But with more than twenty hungry mouths waiting to be fed, food self-sufficiency is of paramount importance.
As dawn broke, a thin mist, like gauze, enveloped the damp fields.
Ling Zhan and Shen Yan, along with a few older children, stood on the ridges of their two fields of winter wheat, where new green shoots had already sprouted.
"That's it?!"
Shen Yan kicked a stubborn bluestone protruding from the ground with his toe, looking disgusted. "This lousy land is so bad that even planting gold would be too uncomfortable! After working ourselves to the bone for a year, is the harvest enough to fill a tooth gap?" He looked at Ling Zhan, his peach blossom eyes full of accusation that "if you want to cultivate this wasteland, you can't live here."
Ling Zhan ignored him, squatted down, grabbed a handful of soil and rubbed it between his fingers.
The soil was dry, hard, and coarse, carrying a slightly acidic, barren smell. She looked up, her gaze falling on the newly turned, dark brown, fertile soil on the distant hillside, faintly visible in the morning mist—the fields where other families in the village had sown their hopes. Then she looked back down at the barren land beneath her feet, which looked like it had been afflicted with scabies.
"We won't grow grain." She stood up, brushed the dirt off her hands, and spoke clearly and decisively.
"What?" Shen Yan thought she had misheard and subconsciously asked, "Not grow grain? Are we going to starve? What will the children eat?"
"Planting medicinal herbs."
Ling Zhan uttered two words, his gaze sweeping over a few inconspicuous green seedlings that had just sprouted by the edge of the field.
"Perilla, motherwort, plantain, dandelion."
She listed herbs that are common in fields and have strong vitality.
“And,” she pointed to a small, damp depression on the shady side of the hillside, “there, open it up and plant mint.”
Shen Yan stared in disbelief: "Grow...grow grass? Ling Zhan, are you starving or struck by lightning? This stuff can be eaten? Sold for money? Who wants it?"
Ling Zhan finally gave him a proper look.
His gaze was as calm as a deep pool, yet it silenced Shen Yan's next words.
“Sell the medicine shop and exchange it for grain,” she said succinctly. “It’s more profitable than growing grain.” She paused, then added, “The village has just had a new headman, and people are looking forward to settling down. There’s surplus grain. We can use money or exchange medicine for it.”
Shen Yan's mouth remained open for a long time.
His mind raced: herbs… pharmacies… bartering for grain… it seems like… a way? When he was in the marketplace, he did know that these wild herbs could be sold for money when dried, and the price was slightly higher than that of grain, but no one used to grow them specifically.
Looking at this barren land, there's really no hope of growing crops here...
His eyes darted around, and his street smarts resurfaced. "Alright! Let's plant grass then!"
He slapped his thigh, his face instantly brightening from cloudy to sunny, even showing a calculating glint in his eyes. "Leave this to me! I guarantee I'll pamper these 'golden leaves' even more delicate than flowers!" He automatically ignored Ling Zhan's follow-up to "exchanging grain," his mind filled only with the golden prospect of "making money."
With the plan finalized, action was taken swiftly and decisively.
Ling Zhan and the children spent three days clearing all the movable stones from the two barren fields and piling them into ridges. They turned the soil, broke it up, and loosened the infertile soil as much as possible. Shen Yan, on the other hand, made full use of his handsome face and smooth tongue, carefully styled his hair with a gold hairpin, and began to "parade around" the village.
"Aunt Zhang! Busy? Oh my, these wheat seedlings are growing so well! It's obvious you've been taking good care of them!"
Shen Yan squatted at the edge of Zhang the Hunter's field, his words as sweet as honey, "Can I ask you something? Your perilla grew really well last year! The smell was so good! My wife wants to plant some, could you spare some seeds? Not much, just a small handful! I'll trade you a newly woven bamboo basket! Look at this basket, how sturdy it is! It'll hold all the mountain produce without falling apart!" He magically produced a crooked but sturdy bamboo basket.
Aunt Zhang was overjoyed by his praise and intimidated by the title "Lady Ling," so she happily grabbed a handful of perilla seeds and stuffed them into his hands.
"Take it, take it! Please thank Lady Ling for me!"
"Brother Li! You've turned this soil really deep! This year's harvest is sure to be good!" Shen Yan strolled over to the newly cultivated field at Li the carpenter's house in the east of the village. "I heard that the motherwort behind your old house is growing very well? My children have some minor ailments, and my wife wants to pick some to keep on hand. What do you think...?"
The honest and simple carpenter Li was dazzled by Shen Yan's enthusiastic and charming smile. Remembering Ling Zhan's kindness in helping to repair the house, he took Shen Yan to the back of the house without saying a word, dug up a large bundle of seedlings for him, and even gave him a few words of planting tips.
With his handsome face and silver tongue, plus a timely and subtle mention that "the new village head, Li Qingshan, also grows some medicinal herbs," Ling Zhan did indeed persuade Li Qingshan to try planting them on the ridges of the fields. Within a few days, Shen Yan had gathered all the seeds and seedlings of the herbs on the list, and even got some mint roots. The price was sending out seven or eight oddly shaped bamboo baskets and grass crates, and promising that his wife would help Aunt Wang's family fetch water for three days.
Seeds and seedlings have arrived.
Ling Zhan was decisive. Every morning, after filling a large vat of water for Aunt Wang's family, she personally led several older children to the fields. She demonstrated how to plant perilla seeds, transplant motherwort seedlings, and bury mint roots. Her movements were precise and efficient, like setting up a miniature battle formation.
The children studied diligently, their faces covered in mud, their eyes shining brightly.
Even Shen Yan, unusually, didn't slack off. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing his pampered hands—hands that wore fine cotton gloves even when cooking and were easily rubbed raw by turning over soil. He clumsily followed behind, imitating Shen Yan, muttering to himself:
"Gently, gently! My little darlings! This is our family's 'money-grubber'! Go easy on him!"
The shady depression on the west side of the courtyard was cleared out, and the roots of mint, which prefer moisture, were neatly buried there.
Looking at the tender green shoots swaying gently in the spring breeze in the field, Chen Yan put his hands on his hips and boasted to the children, "See? With Daddy on the job, one is worth two! This medicinal herb garden is just around the corner! Then we'll sell them and make money..."
He could almost see himself swaggering around town with a bulging purse in his hand, his peach blossom eyes curving into crescents.
Ling Zhan poured cold water on the idea: "Use the money to buy grain, oil, salt, and cloth. If there's any left over, buy oxen and horses."
Her gaze swept over the children in the yard, dressed in patched old spring clothes, running and playing happily, and she added a few words, "If there's any left over, save it."
—Don't even think about squandering it.
Shen Yan's smile froze, and she muttered under her breath, "I know, I know, you busybody..."
His get-rich-quick dream was shattered, leaving him feeling dejected.
Just as the medicinal herb field was getting on track, Ling Zhan's gaze once again turned to the depths of the misty, layered mountains of Xishan—a forbidden zone that villagers dared not venture into easily.
There, her cloud fields are truly fertile land suitable for crops or medicinal herbs.
That evening, the setting sun painted the horizon a magnificent orange-red.
Ling Zhan called Shen Yan outside the courtyard and pointed to the main peak of the Western Mountain, which stood silently in the distance like the spine of a giant beast.
"I'm going into the mountains, for a short while." His tone was flat, as if he were just going to visit a neighbor.
Shen Yan was scraping mud off her new satin boots with a twig when she heard this. She looked up abruptly, a complex look flashing across her eyes. She quickly glanced at Xiao Jinbao among the children: "What? Going into the mountains again? It's only early spring, the snow in the mountains hasn't even melted yet, and the beasts that have been starving all winter are going to be fierce! What are you doing there?"
His tone carried a mixture of confusion and barely perceptible tension.
"Something came up," Ling Zhan said succinctly, without offering any explanation.
Looking into her unfathomable, emotionless eyes, Shen Yan knew that asking was pointless.
Frustrated, he tossed aside the branch, not even bothering with the mud on his boots: "Fine, fine, you're the head of the family! You decide!" He turned to the children chasing and playing in the yard, and said irritably, "What about these little brats? And those newly cultivated precious 'medicine fields'? You can't just dump them all on me, can you?"
"You lead," Ling Zhan said matter-of-factly. "Continue exploring the wilderness."
She pointed to the overgrown, gravelly slope to the east of the yard, "To grow vegetables."
"I?!"
Shen Yan pointed at his nose, his voice rising, "One person? Carrying more than twenty burdens! Doing laundry, cooking! And clearing land to grow vegetables? Ling Zhan, you've got it wrong! Who am I? I'm Shen Yan! The most handsome man in Kaoshan Village, no, in the entire Dayin! You want me to be a peasant?!"
He was really furious; his brand-new silk robe seemed to bristle along with its owner.
Ling Zhan ignored his protests and took out a small cloth bag from his pocket and handed it over: "Gold leaf, buy grain, buy seeds."
She added, with an unquestionable tone: "Keep an eye on the house and the kids. Don't cause trouble. If you're tired, hire someone."
Shen Yan took the heavy money bag and was momentarily stunned. Gold leaves!
For the sake of the money, and looking at Ling Zhan's uncompromising face, and the group of little kids in the yard who were staring at them expectantly with no trace of suffering on their faces, a huge sense of powerlessness and the absurdity of being "entrusted with an important task" surged into their hearts.
He finally resigned himself to his fate, grabbed the money pouch, stuffed it into his pocket, and gritted his teeth: "Fine! I'll take it! I'll see! My wife, you can go in peace! It would be best if you were captured by the fox spirits in the mountains and made their chieftain's wife! So you won't come back and cause me any more trouble!"
He turned away angrily, his back filled with resentment, "I can spend this money whenever I want, except for living expenses! Mind your own business!"
Ling Zhan watched his angry retreating figure, his face still expressionless.
Just as he was about to step into the courtyard, a deep voice clearly followed: "Keep digging the irrigation canal. Drain water from the back mountain."
Shen Yan paused, but didn't turn around. His shoulders slumped even more, and he squeezed out two words through gritted teeth: "...I know!"
The next day, before dawn, Ling Zhan's figure had already disappeared into the path leading deep into the western mountains.
She carried a small bag on her back, with a short blade and a specially made, heavy pickaxe hanging at her waist.
Little Jinbao quietly curled up in the bamboo basket on her back.
With steady steps, he quickly blended into the vast mountain forest, like a drop of water merging into the ocean.
The next day.
In the courtyard, Chen Yan, having lost his "pillar of stability," after a brief period of confusion and resentment, clutched the heavy money bag in his arms. A long-lost, relieved joy mixed with his "mischievous" instincts began to grow wildly, like weeds in early spring.
He carefully combed his long, silky hair and put on his most elegant silk robe...
Working? That's impossible!
With his hands on his hips, he stood at the entrance of the main room and roared at the children who were still lazing in bed on the warm kang (heated brick bed):
"Get up, all of you! The sun's already high in the sky!"
The children rubbed their sleepy eyes and groggily got up.
"Listen up, everyone!" Shen Yan cleared his throat, regaining some of his "head of the household" demeanor. Pointing to the weedy, rocky slope on the east side of the yard, he commanded, "From today onwards, that area is our new territory! Clear it out! Plant lush green vegetables! Cucumbers! Eggplants!"
He painted a rosy picture: "Just imagine, summer is here, and there will be an endless supply of fresh vegetables! No more gnawing on pickled vegetables, we'll be digging for wild greens all over the mountains!"
The children were drawn to the "endless food," their little faces showing longing.
"Now! Pick up your weapons!"
As if by magic, Shen Yan produced several small hoes and shovels—the ones he had begged Wang the carpenter to finish the work beforehand.
"Target! Gravel slope! Charge!" he shouted, raising his arm as if he were a general commanding his troops.
The children were infected by his enthusiasm, excitedly shouting and picking up their tools like a flock of ducklings just released from their cage.
It pounced and thrashed towards the rocky slope.
However, ideals are often grand, while reality is often harsh.
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