Chapter 45: The Enchantress

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Qingying arrived at Caiyun’s home and saw Caiyun cooking mung bean soup. She asked, “I heard you had heatstroke?”

“Yes, how did you know?”

“I also heard that Fafu undressed you and massaged you until you felt comfortable, right?”

“I fainted, and she wiped me down with cool water to lower my temperature.”

“You recovered from heatstroke really quickly, getting up to work again in no time. Fafu’s hands must be magical!”

“It was too hot, so I cooked some mung bean soup for them to drink to prevent heatstroke. Could you help me deliver it?”

“I’ve had heatstroke too, just like you. I’m going to find a man to undress me so I can enjoy myself properly.” Qingying said this and left abruptly.

Caiyun knew it was definitely Han Xiuxia stirring up trouble with Qingying again; she had to be cautious. After resting a while, she called Yulan, who was hoeing in the field, to deliver the mung bean soup to Xichong for the people helping with the water transport.

Caiyun believed she fainted mainly due to exhaustion and the heat. Everyone thought she had heatstroke, so Fafu carried her home, and she indeed needed to rest. She closed her eyes and lay still on Fafu’s back, feeling very comfortable.

That night, Caiyun couldn’t sleep. She found herself increasingly fond of Fafu. His figure flashed repeatedly in her mind—the tall, straight, well-proportioned, broad-shouldered build was so captivating. Under his broad forehead, his deep eyes seemed to pierce her soul, always making her heart flutter.

Suddenly, she heard a noise outside the window. “Yulan, Yulan, wake up!” Yulan was sleeping too soundly to wake. Caiyun put on her clothes and opened the back door, just as a figure darted inside. “Yun, I missed you so much!”

Seeing it was Fafu, Caiyun rushed forward and embraced him.

Fafu pulled Caiyun into bed, and they kissed passionately. Then Fafu launched a fierce attack on Caiyun...

Qingying woke up to find her husband absent and assumed he had gone to the outhouse, so she paid little attention. After a long while with no sign of him, she grew suspicious and went to check the backyard outhouse—no one there. It was the dead of night; where had he gone? She decided to go back to sleep.

After some time, Fafu still hadn’t returned. Qingying dressed, opened the front gate, and looked around—no sign of him. She pushed against Caiyun’s front door; it was locked.

She then went to Caiyun’s back door and pushed; also locked. Suddenly, an unusual sound broke the quiet night. Following it, she reached the window of Caiyun’s side room and quickly recognized the voices of Caiyun and Fafu.

“Fafu, you filthy scoundrel, get out here!” Qingying pounded on the window, furiously cursing.

“If you don’t come out, I’ll call the whole village,” Qingying shouted.

“What are you doing here?” Fafu suddenly appeared before Qingying and pulled her toward home.

“You shameless wretch, what are you doing coming out? Keep going at it!”

“What nonsense are you talking about? Go back!” Fafu grabbed Qingying’s arm and pulled her away.

“Am I lying? I heard everything clearly. Won’t admit it?”

Qingying kicked at Caiyun’s back door, still locked. “You harlot! Fox spirit! Had your fun, huh? Open the door and let him continue…”

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Fafu covered Qingying’s mouth and dragged her inside.

“Tell me honestly, how long have you been sleeping with her?”

“Sleeping? Stop making a fuss. I just couldn’t sleep earlier and walked around a bit.”

“Do you want me to pin you both to the bed before you admit it?”

“If you don’t believe me, forget it. We didn’t do anything.”

The next night, Fafu had gone out to work and hadn’t returned. Qingying called Yulan to the east wing room.

“Lanlan, does your second aunt treat you well?”

“Yes! You’re the best to me.”

“Then don’t lie to me. I’m going to ask you something.”

“What is it?”

“When did your second uncle come to your house last night?”

“I don’t know.”

“Let me ask differently: last night, did your second uncle get into your bed?”

“I was asleep. I don’t know.”

“Did you hear anyone banging on the window or shouting?”

“Yes, it sounded like you.”

“Have you ever seen your second uncle and your mother fight in bed?”

“No.”

“Really not?”

“Really not.”

“If you lie to me, I won’t like you anymore.”

“I’m not lying.”

Qingying always thought Yulan was closer to her. She was certain about Fafu and Caiyun’s bed affair and wanted to test if Yulan was telling the truth.

From their conversation, Qingying found it hard to conclude anything. If Yulan claimed ignorance of the noises and actions outside the window, Qingying would be sure she was lying. Since Yulan said she heard it, that was likely true.

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Yet on the substantive questions, Yulan said she didn’t know. Qingying thought perhaps the child was sleeping so soundly that she truly didn’t know, but she still harbored doubts. After all, the three slept in the same bed; with such commotion and long duration, Yulan shouldn’t have been unaware.

This year marked the first year of full implementation of the responsibility land system. Crops were thriving beautifully, and a good harvest was imminent. After enduring a particularly difficult period, this fruitful year arrived just in time, like a timely helping hand. People praised the responsibility land not only as a lifesaver but also as a source of happiness.

With the responsibility land system in place, no household had idle hands, and come harvest season, even five-year-old Yujun was busy.

Today, his mother and older brother planned to carry bundles of rice stalks to the drying yard in front of their home. Yujun’s task was to guard the rice so that chickens, ducks, and pigs wouldn’t eat it. Holding a bamboo pole with a string tied at one end and a bunch of straw at the other as his guarding weapon, he patrolled the drying yard early to prevent livestock from entering and soiling the rice.

Seeing some debris scattered, he fetched a bamboo broom much longer than himself to clean up. He tried to wield the broom by gripping its top and middle but couldn’t manage, so he held the bottom end and crouched to sweep, looking quite comical.

Fafu had been busy lately, and Caiyun, unable to wait for his help, decided to carry the rice bundles herself. Yuliang wanted to try too, but their mother thought he was too young and refused. Yet Yuliang insisted, so Caiyun reluctantly agreed.

As they carried the bundles onto the ridge between fields, they encountered a problem: with heavy loads on their shoulders, their legs sank into the muddy rice paddies. It was difficult to lift their legs out, let alone step up onto the ridges with both themselves and the load.

They tried for a long time but couldn’t get up.

Yuliang carefully observed Uncle Zhiliang carrying rice bundles onto the ridge. He saw Zhiliang lift his right leg, step on the ridge, lean forward, then leap up to stand steadily. It looked easy.

Yuliang imitated Uncle Zhiliang’s method but still failed.

In the end, Yuliang and his mother helped each other: one pulled from above the ridge while the other pushed from below. After much effort, they finally got the bundles onto the ridge, though many grains fell into the mud and couldn’t be retrieved, which pained Caiyun.

This heavy physical labor was Yuliang’s first experience. The drying yard was over two miles away.

Along the way, he kept switching shoulders—the right one ached, so he changed to the left. After a short distance, the left shoulder hurt too, so he switched back to the right. Gritting his teeth, he persevered, counting field corners until he finally reached the yard.

Caiyun brought a small stool and a shovel from home and dug stepped gaps in the middle sections of the ridges around the rice paddies. She placed the stool under the gap, solving the problem of getting up the ridge.

By the time Yuliang carried his second load, both shoulders were numb from the yoke’s pressure, without much ache or pain.

He then added more weight but soon felt his back straighten with difficulty, his legs trembling. Seeing this, his mother immediately stopped him.

“Yuliang, put it down. Carrying too much will break your body, and you’ll become useless.”

“Mom, when will I be able to carry over two hundred jin like my second uncle?”

“Don’t rush. In a few years, you’ll be able to.”

“I feel so bad seeing you work so hard. In other families, men do the heavy labor, but here you do it all alone. I’m useless.”

“Your second uncle has been too busy recently, or he’d help us.”

After the bundles reached the drying yard, they still needed to undergo spreading, drying, turning, threshing, gathering, and winnowing before the rice grains were ready to eat.

Most of these processes require specific external conditions. After days of sun-drying, the rice must be winnowed and stored.

Today was the Mid-Autumn Festival, with clear skies. After dinner, a northwest wind blew, and Fafu had time to come help Caiyun with the winnowing.

Winnowing relies on wind direction to use the breeze to separate rice grains from crushed leaves, empty grains, and husks. The grains are tossed into the air against the wind using a wooden shovel, allowing the lighter chaff to drift away like willow fluff while the grains settle in order: fullest, relatively full, empty grains, and husks.

The fullest grains, placed at the front, were for public grain delivery; the others for family consumption.

Fafu mastered the angle of the wooden shovel perfectly. Instead of just throwing the grains into the air, he flicked his wrist outward, fanning the grains into a graceful, even arc. The wind blew away the debris, and the grains fell gently and neatly, forming a long, tiered heap higher in front and lower at the back.

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