Chapter Nine: Falling into the Water

Shortly after Han Xiuxia was beaten, she began to lose control of her bladder and bowels, prompting Hongbing Wang to sleep separately from her. No one attended to the soiled bed at night, which infuriated Han Xiuxia. She refused to speak to Hongbing and pretended to be asleep whenever he came near, leading him to believe she often dozed off during the day as well.

In truth, when Caiyun entered, Han Xiuxia was awake but unwilling to speak, so she feigned sleep.

After Caiyun returned home, Fa Cai anxiously inquired about Xiuxia’s injuries, but Caiyun ignored him and instead asked, “Let me ask you again—do you have anything to do with Han Xiuxia being beaten?”

“What did Han Xiuxia say to you?” Fa Cai retorted.

“She said you two were chatting amiably by the well, and perhaps Hongbing overheard.”

“Why would she say that to you?”

“That’s none of your business. Tell me, did it happen or not?”

“If it did, so what? Are you feeling guilty, afraid Han Xiuxia would tell me about all the things you and Hongbing have been up to?”

“Don’t listen to her nonsense. I have nothing to do with Hongbing.”

Caiyun pondered: if what Hongbing said was true, their relationship must indeed be unusual. Could Fa Cai really be the father of the three children? Han Xiuxia’s own husband was so handsome—would he be interested in Fa Cai’s face? She found it hard to understand.

As she was lost in thought, she suddenly heard someone calling from outside: “Caiyun! Caiyun! Yulan’s in trouble!”

Caiyun hurried out to see her mute father, Zhiliang Zhao, carrying Yulan, while another villager arrived carrying a boy at Caiyun’s doorstep.

“Yulan fell into the Tiger Pond. This boy jumped in to save her. Both children swallowed a lot of water. Yulan is unconscious; the boy is okay,” Zhiliang explained as he laid Yulan on the bed and recounted what had happened to Fa Cai and Caiyun.

Yulan’s face was bluish-purple, foam came from her mouth and nostrils, and her belly was swollen severely. Everyone helped by laying the two children across a long bench and repeatedly patting their backs. Both children vomited a great deal of water; the boy quickly returned to normal, and Yulan gradually regained consciousness.

Yu Qiang, who had been watching Yulan’s condition closely, was astonished when he saw the boy had recovered. “You Tao, is that you?”

“Yu Qiang, she is…” You Tao pointed at Yulan and asked.

“She is my sister,” Yu Qiang said, taking You Tao to Yulan. “Yulan, this is my classmate You Tao. He’s the one who saved you.”

Yulan struggled to sit up and said, “Thank you!”

“No need to thank me. I’m glad you’re okay!”

Caiyun came over and embraced You Tao. “Good boy, are you alright?”

“I’m fine. I should go home now.”

“Which village are you from? How old are you?”

“Mom, he’s from Yangjiagang. His name’s Zhang You Tao. He’s my classmate and a year older than me.”

Caiyun gave Fa Cai some eggs and, together with Yu Qiang, took You Tao home to express their gratitude.

Later, Caiyun and Fa Cai learned the full story.

That afternoon, Yulan had been herding cattle near Tiger Pond. Due to the heat, a tall, bad-tempered water buffalo plunged into the pond and refused to come out. Yulan pulled hard on the rope tied to the buffalo’s neck, but the animal suddenly shook its head and pulled her into the water.

Yulan, unable to swim, struggled in the deep water. Zhang You Tao, passing by on his way home from school, saw her plight and immediately jumped in to rescue her.

When he reached her, Yulan was already underwater, clinging tightly to You Tao’s leg. He dived beneath the surface and pried her hand open, intending to carry her out, but her legs were entangled in water plants and the rope. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t lift her.

Helpless, he began untangling the weeds and rope from her legs, all while swallowing water himself. After immense effort, he finally freed her and brought her ashore.

Exhausted and weakened by the water intake, You Tao lacked the strength to climb out on his own. Zhiliang Zhao found him and carried him up, then took both children to Caiyun’s home.

For safety, Fa Cai negotiated with the production team leader to replace Yulan’s buffalo with a gentle old ox.

After receiving the old buffalo, Yulan noticed it often scratched itself with its horns and hooves, sometimes rubbing its neck and rear against trees. She suspected it was infested with lice.

Upon closer inspection, she found dense patches of lice on its back, neck, rump, and thighs. No wonder it was so restless—it must have been unbearably itchy. She went home, made a small bamboo skewer and, using a piece of leather shaped like a funnel, she scraped the lice off into the paper funnel, then burned them with grass or decayed leaves.

After several days, Yulan had removed nearly all the lice, and the old buffalo had calmed considerably.

Animals have spirits; if you treat them well, they will repay your kindness. Since then, whenever the old buffalo saw Yulan, it would raise its head and moo softly. Yulan took this as the buffalo greeting her and would reach out to stroke its head.

The old buffalo was thin; every rib was clearly visible, its backbone protruded sharply along its spine, and its skin was deeply wrinkled. Especially around its neck where the yoke had been fastened, a hard callus testified to its lifelong diligent service to humans.

Though old and somewhat weary, it refused to give up and continued to toil tirelessly in the fields.

Yulan often arrived early at the fields to wait for the old buffalo, hoping the ploughmen would finish early. But once, when everyone else had stopped working, her old buffalo was still laboring. She complained to the ploughmen, who explained there was just a little left to finish.

Seeing the buffalo so exhausted it was foaming at the mouth and sweating heavily from its nostrils, Yulan fetched some fresh grass and held it to its mouth. The old buffalo snorted, exhaling hot breath from its nostrils, and she knew it was annoyed—as if telling her, “Go away, don’t disturb me.”

She watched as the buffalo lowered its head, stretched out its neck, and pushed forward with all its might to finish ploughing that field before resting.

After work, Yulan felt sorry for the old buffalo and refused to ride it. She simply led it to a nearby ditch for water, washed its head, and then took it to a pond for a relaxing bath.

The buffalo soaked in the water with its eyes closed, swishing its tail and flicking its ears to shoo away flies, leisurely chewing its cud, as if telling its young owner, “See how comfortable I am!”

After the bath, Yulan led the buffalo to the foot of the Western Hills, wrapped its rope around its horns, and let it graze freely on the grass. She lay on the meadow, gazing up at the deep blue sky, watching birds circling overhead, and unconsciously hummed the theme song “Little Swallow” from the film Nurse’s Diary.

The old buffalo circled around her, occasionally licking her foot or gently nudging her calf, like a playful old friend teasing her.

In a burst of joy, Yulan stood up and sang the favorite children’s song from the film “Flowers of the Motherland”:

“Let us row our oars together,
The little boat pushes through the waves…”

As she sang and danced, the buffalo lifted its head, eyes wide open, watching her silently. Suddenly, it mooed twice and began shaking its head, swinging its horns in rhythm.

Yulan’s singing was not only beautiful but loud and clear. Several children came running over, joining her in song and dance. The old buffalo’s legs trembled slightly, sometimes lifting a hoof, as if the playful old fellow was dancing along with the children.

Soon, Yulan and the old buffalo became close friends, affectionately calling it “Old Rascal.”

One day, while herding cattle, Yulan saw You Tao coming to school with his backpack and greeted him warmly: “Brother You Tao, thank you for saving me last time!”

“You’ve already thanked me; there’s no need to say it again.”

“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be alive.”

“Don’t struggle with the buffalo in the future. If necessary, you can loosen the rope.”

Yulan nodded in understanding. The old buffalo mooed in agreement, as if saying, “Don’t worry.”

On the evening of September 8, the Wangjiayu Production Team held a meeting for all members. The team secretary, Shaowen Yang, was giving a motivational speech: “Comrades... many communes are now ‘launching satellites,’ and our commune refuses to fall behind. We must act swiftly. In response to higher directives, the party branch has decided to launch a ‘satellite field’ in your production team—a rice field aiming for a yield exceeding 30,000 jin per mu...”