Learning that Song Wei was heading to the mountains to gather mushrooms and firewood, a group of children eagerly clamored to join her.

Since schooling had been disrupted for years due to turmoil, the kids in Ping’an Brigade, now in their most energetic years, ran wild daily, forming packs to roam around, sometimes wreaking havoc, much to their parents’ annoyance.

Song Wei didn’t mind them tagging along, though this meant they wouldn’t venture too deep into the mountains.

“I know where the best mushrooms grow, Sister Song. Let me show you,” one of the kids offered eagerly.

These little rascals knew all kinds of secret spots that even the adults didn’t know about.

With the kids leading the way, Song Wei held Little Heidan by one hand and a young girl by the other, and they set off toward the mountains. Heidan seemed thrilled, occasionally stealing shy glances at Song Wei.

“Sister Song, did my parents really love me? How do you know that?” Heidan asked, curiosity and a hint of sadness in his voice. Given how the Lin family treated him, he’d rarely heard anything positive about his parents.

Song Wei nodded. “Just this morning, I was talking to Grandma Wang, and she told me all about them. Your mother was a bit weak when she was pregnant with you, and your father risked his life going to the mountains to gather herbs to keep both you and your mother healthy. And your big brother, he joined the army to make sure he could look after you.”

She chose to avoid the darker details for now. There was no need to sow seeds of resentment in such a young child; without the power to do anything, he would only end up hurting himself.

Heidan’s eyes reddened, and he whispered, “Thank you, Sister Song.”

As they made their way up the mountain, it was clear that Song Wei wasn’t just accompanying the kids but leading them as the most mischievous one of all. Her spirit matched theirs, and they quickly found themselves at the upper part of the village river.

“My mom said we’re not allowed in the river,” one child said cautiously.

Song Wei rolled up her pants and smiled. “But there are fish in it. I can’t just let fish swim by and taunt me without trying to catch them. Your parents said not to go in the water, but I’m a grown-up, so it’s fine for me.”

She added with a mock-serious look, “Stay put on the bank. Just watch me catch them.”

With a splash, she leaped into the water, nimbly weaving around the fish and tossing them up onto the bank one by one.

The kids erupted in cheers.

“Sister Song, over there, there’s a big one!”

“Sister Song, it’s slipping past your toes!”

“Sister Song…”

The children watched excitedly, itching to jump in themselves. One of the bolder ones couldn’t resist and leaped into the water, only for Song Wei to scoop him up by the arm and plop him back on the bank with a light smack on the rear.

The boy’s face turned bright red. “Why’d you hit me?”

“Because you didn’t listen. Disobedience means punishment.”

“You don’t have to hit my backside, though! A man’s bottom is like a tiger’s—untouchable!”

Song Wei smirked. “Tiger’s backside, you say? I’d touch a tiger’s backside, too.”

“I don’t believe you. You’re lying.”

With a mischievous glint, she replied, “Fine, don’t believe me. Too bad there aren’t any tigers around here to prove it.”

She wrung out her wet clothes and let the sun dry her off. “So, how many fish do we have? Enough for everyone?”

“More than enough! Sister Song, you’re amazing! My dad can’t catch this many fish.”

“But how are we going to cook them?”

“Grill them, of course,” Song Wei said. Grilling was about the extent of her cooking skills.

“Does anyone have ginger? Maybe some green onions?”

“I can go get some from home!” one child volunteered. The village wasn’t far, and the kids could run there and back in half an hour. In the meantime, Song Wei cleaned the fish and made a makeshift pool to keep the extras fresh.

“Bring some chili peppers too!” she called after them.

Leaving Heidan and another kid to tend the fire, she instructed, “Make sure to clear away any dry grass or leaves around the fire.”

“We know! We’ve roasted food in the mountains before,” they replied confidently.

These kids were surprisingly responsible with fire, having been taught from a young age how to be cautious, especially in the mountains. They dug a pit in the ground to contain the fire, and when they were finished, they would cover it with earth.

While the fish grilled, Song Wei and a few others went exploring nearby.

“Sister Song, I know where there’s a beehive. Do you want to go check it out?” a boy, dark from sun and dirt, suggested with a grin.

Song Wei raised an eyebrow. “Why haven’t you gone after it yourself?”

“I tried! But I got stung badly. And then my mom chased me around the yard with a feather duster,” he admitted. “My dad never has time to help me.”

“So, you’re still after it, huh?” She chuckled, amused by his persistence. “Alright, lead the way. Let’s go.”

Honey was a rare treat. She could hardly remember what that kind of sweetness tasted like.

She followed him with the kids in tow, gathering branches and dry sticks along the way. They bound dried grass with green twigs to make a bundle. Tying the bundle to her waist, she scrambled up a tree, agile as a monkey.

The children below watched, awe-struck.

“Wow! Sister Song climbs so fast!”

“My mom told me the city kids don’t know how to do anything, but Sister Song is amazing.”

She soon reached a point where she could clearly see the hive, large and arched, with a steady hum around it. This was the good kind of hive, she thought—the type filled with honey.

There were three sizable chunks hanging in front of her.

Song Wei climbed a bit higher, where the buzzing grew louder. She found a steady spot, lit her smoke bundle with a match, and let thick smoke waft up toward the hive, which sent the bees into an uneasy buzz. Some bees even fainted from the smoke and fell from the tree.

A few persistent ones approached her, but she swatted them away with a branch.

Balancing herself and managing the smoke, she cut off a piece of honeycomb about the size of a basketball, savoring the sweetness as she licked the honey from her fingers.

The taste was heavenly, leaving her in high spirits.

Not wanting to be greedy, she cut off one more small piece from another hive before stopping. She had prepared a palm leaf rope to tie the honeycombs securely.

Glancing down, she grinned before letting herself drop from branch to branch in a show of agility, landing gracefully to a chorus of awed gasps.