Chapter 15: Fresh Wangyue Sand

“Who knows.”

Meng Ling also found it strange—whether the hook was stolen by her or not, why did the turtle seller suddenly come looking for her to buy turtles again? Maybe it was just a coincidence.

Thinking it over, she couldn’t come to a conclusion and decided to put it aside for the moment.

Before leaving, Mrs. Shen instructed the two siblings to clean up the yard quickly. It was almost time to harvest the rice; the ten acres of paddy fields would keep them busy for a while.

As evening fell, a light rain began to fall, but their elderly parents still hadn’t returned.

“Sis, why haven’t Mom and Dad come back yet?” Meng Shiqiao asked worriedly.

Meng Ling replied slowly, “It’s raining, so they walk slowly. They’ll be back soon.”

She was worried too—rainy days meant slippery paths, and one misstep could mean falling into the ravine. That would be a big problem.

The two waited a bit longer. It was completely dark now, and still no sign of their parents.

Meng Ling took out a lantern and was about to go look for them when she suddenly heard footsteps outside the yard. Her tense heart immediately relaxed.

“Mom, Dad, you’re back!”

Mrs. Shen said, “We’re back. Come inside.”

When they entered the house, Meng Ling saw their parents covered in mud with several tears in their clothes—it was clear they had fallen more than once. Luckily, they were uninjured.

Meng Liang saw her worried face and quickly said, “It’s nothing, just a few scrapes, no big deal.”

Her mother looked outside with concern. “Oh dear, I hope the rain doesn’t last too long. The rice is almost ready to harvest.”

Meng Liang said, “It’s okay. Maybe the weather will clear up tomorrow. Go change your clothes first.”

Hearing this, Meng Ling felt a little anxious. Last year the rice fields suffered flooding; if it happened again this year, life would be hard.

The worst time for rice harvest is these rainy, overcast days with endless drizzle.

The next day, the sky was still gloomy and the drizzle continued.

Meng Ling took her brother to the river to collect hooks. Today they only caught three turtles. She didn’t know if it was because the weather was colder or if the turtles in the river had all been caught. She decided to take all the hooks back.

—-

“Aunt Wang, Aunt Wang,” Meng Ling called outside the gate.

On the way home, she stopped to deliver the turtles Aunt Wang ordered. Meng Shiqiao had already gone home alone earlier.

“Oh, you’re here.”

She recognized Meng Ling’s voice and guessed she was there to deliver the turtles. She opened the door and immediately looked into the bucket. There was one turtle weighing about two jin (about one kilogram).

Meng Ling lifted the bucket in front of her and said, “Aunt Wang, here are the turtles you ordered. You can weigh them at home.”

From her experience, this turtle definitely weighed two jin. She grabbed the turtle and handed it to Aunt Wang, then turned to leave but was called back.

“Hey, wait a moment. Let me weigh it first.”

Meng Ling felt a little annoyed. They were paying her little money and now making so many demands, not even trusting her judgment.

“All right, all right, weigh it first.”

She didn’t feel like going inside, so waited by the gate as Aunt Wang brought over a small scale.

“Give it to me.”

Meng Ling took the scale and put the turtle on the weighing plate: 2 jin 1 liang (a bit over 1 kilogram).

“Aunt Wang, it’s 2 jin 1 liang 5 qian (just over 1 kilogram). Please check.”

“You owe me one wen more. Yesterday you paid for two jin.”

Aunt Wang hesitated at the extra charge, then smiled and said, “Well, forget it, I don’t have any money on me. Next time!”

She took the turtle inside. Meng Ling decided to follow her—she had to get that one wen back or she wouldn’t feel right.

Seeing Meng Ling follow her, Aunt Wang had no choice but to get the money. It took a while.

Meng Ling thought their family didn’t seem to be short on money, so why bother?

After a long wait, Aunt Wang finally came out.

“Here! For you!”

Meng Ling could tell Aunt Wang smiled on the outside but was unhappy inside. But this was her own doing, no one to blame.

“All right, I’ll leave now,” Meng Ling said with a smile.

Back at home, Meng Ling saw everyone gathered scrubbing corn husks—a tough job. After a while, her hands hurt.

When she was young, they used grandpa’s “liberation shoes” for scrubbing—flipped over on the bench leg, a simple and convenient corn scrubbing tool.

There were no liberation shoes here, so Meng Ling thought maybe a washboard could work.

She stood up and said, “Wait here, I’ll get you something good.”

Everyone looked at her confused.

“You’ll see soon.”

Meng Ling found a wooden board and from the kitchen grabbed some unburned charcoal to draw a washboard pattern on it.

Meng Shiqiao came closer and asked, “Sis, what are you drawing?”

Meng Ling smiled mischievously, “A washboard. If you don’t behave, I’ll tell Dad to make you kneel on this.”

Kneel on what?

Meng Shiqiao thought about how he had to kneel on sharp stones when he was in trouble before. This wooden board wouldn’t hurt, his sister was still the kindest.

Meng Liang and Mrs. Shen came over to see what the washboard looked like.

Meng Liang said, “Meng Ya, there are so many stones in the yard, why bother with this? Making a special one just for him? Dream on.”

Meng Ling laughed and explained, “Dad, I’m just joking. This is for scrubbing corn.”

Meng Shiqiao heard this and thought he wouldn’t be kneeling on the washboard anytime soon.

Meng Ling continued, “Dad, make two of these first. You’ll understand soon.”

“All right, this is simple. I’ll make them now.”

Meng Liang went out with the board, and soon the sound of a saw could be heard.

About an hour later, two washboards were finished.

“All done!” Meng Liang brushed off the sawdust.

Meng Ling found a basin, placed the washboard inside, and held a corn cob, scrubbing it like washing clothes.

Corn kernels fell off quickly. A single cob was scrubbed clean in a few strokes.

That’s it!

The three stared with wide eyes, surprised that the difficult task they had earlier could become so easy.

“How is it? Fast, right?” Meng Ling asked.

“Fast!”

“Too fast!”

They all marveled.

At least two or three times faster than scrubbing by hand.

“I’ll try!”

Meng Shiqiao quickly grabbed the other board and started. At first it was awkward, but after three or five cobs, he sped up.

“I’ll try too.”

Meng Liang saw his son using it so easily and, as the strongest man in the family, he should be even faster.

Swish, swish, swish!

Corn kernels flew everywhere as Meng Liang’s arm muscles bulged, his hands moving up and down the washboard like a relentless machine.

In a blink, only bare cobs remained.

“Dad, slow down! Corn is flying everywhere.” Meng Ling warned.

Even if he had strength, this wasn’t the way to use it. She feared he’d break the washboard from too much force.

“I lost control and used too much strength this time,” Meng Liang laughed.

When difficult tasks suddenly become easy, unprecedented energy bursts out. This energy lasts a while before gradually decreasing.

Meng Liang scrubbed more than a dozen cobs before stopping, very pleased, and made two more washboards.

What would have taken seven or eight days’ work could now be done in three.

The rain had continued for three days without any sign of stopping, and the temperature had dropped.

At this time, two figures were walking up the hillside in the drizzle.

“Sis, will rabbits come out in the rain?”

Meng Ling said, “What kind of question is that? Don’t you eat when it rains?”

“Oh!”

Meng Ling took down the previous snare traps and planned to move them elsewhere.

They arrived at a cornfield where the stalks had long been harvested, leaving only weeds growing on the ground. These weed roots were the rabbits’ winter food.

“Look on the ground for fresh rabbit droppings!” Meng Ling said.

“What do rabbit droppings look like? How do you know if they’re fresh?”

Meng Shiqiao didn’t know these things; he only recognized chicken and sheep droppings.

“They’re round, about the size of your pinky fingernail, in clusters. The darker the color, the fresher they are. Bigger droppings mean bigger rabbits,” Meng Ling explained.

“Is this it?”

He picked up a dark lump from the ground and asked his sister.

“That’s mouse poop,” Meng Ling said with disgust.

He quickly threw it away, rubbed his hands in the mud a few times before feeling assured.

Afraid he’d make another mistake, Meng Ling taught him on the spot.

“See? This is it. This herb is called Wangyue Sand.”

She pointed at some pale round pellets on the ground. After drying, Wangyue Sand is resistant to rain and can stay in the soil for months.

“Then I’ll collect some and sell it to the pharmacy.” Meng Shiqiao perked up—herbs definitely sell for money.

“You’d have to fill a basket to make just a few wen,” Meng Ling crushed his dream of making money from droppings.

“Sis, look! This is fresh Wangyue Sand!”