Chapter 17: The Warm-Hearted Wu Linghong

Behind the house.

After chopping down two trees, Yu Nuan’s palms were already sore and stinging.
As she leaned against a tree and rubbed her hands, a voice called out:
“Yao Niu, let me chop. You go dig some yellow clay at the foot of the slope.”

Yu Nuan turned to look—
Huh, he’s calling that name pretty naturally now…

Wu Linghong had already picked up the hatchet by her feet and walked to the side.
“Clang! Clang!” He began chopping quickly.

He’s surprisingly helpful, she thought.

Yu Nuan nodded. “Then I’ll trouble you with that.”

With that, she dragged the logs she’d chopped back toward the house.
Now that Wu Linghong was handling the chopping, she took a large basket to collect yellow clay.

Yu Father trimmed the branches off the felled eucalyptus trees and chopped up bundles of dry grass with a hatchet.
He dug a pit in the pile of yellow clay Yu Nuan brought back, poured in two buckets of water,
and soaked the grass to soften it.

By the time Wu Linghong had chopped all the needed logs, Yu Nuan had also dug enough clay.

There was no denying it—Wu Linghong was quick and efficient.
He drove the logs into the ground for posts, then tied smaller branches and ropes around them to make a fenced pen.
Finally, he mixed the softened straw and sticky clay together and plastered it over the fence walls.

In just one afternoon, Yu Nuan and Yu Father were basically reduced to assistants.
Toward the end, the two of them didn’t even need to lift a finger.

Seeing how hard he was working under the sun, Yu Nuan went into the kitchen and returned with a bucket of sweet spring water for him.

“Take a break and have some water.”

On hot days like this, spring water was more thirst-quenching than sugary drinks.

“Thanks!”

Wu Linghong carefully smoothed a clump of clay onto the fence before walking over and sitting down to drink.

“Dad, you and Xiao Wu finish things up. I’m going out to find some wild greens for dinner.”

Xiao Wu?
Yu Father: “???”
Wu Linghong blinked: That sounded… weird.

“No need, Yao Niu. I’ll eat when I get home,” he said as he set the bowl aside and waved his hand.

This family clearly had it tougher than his. Every grain mattered—

“You’re eating here. You’ve brought rabbits, helped us work, and you think I’ll let you go home hungry?”

Yu Nuan didn’t wait for a reply and grabbed a basket and sickle from the yard.

Yu Father chimed in as well, “Yao Niu’s right.”

Seeing Yu Nuan already heading out, Wu Linghong couldn’t argue anymore. He simply nodded.
Once the walls were plastered, he went to cut some thinner bamboo—planning to make them a rabbit hutch.
It could also house chickens in the future.

By now, the sun had dipped westward.

Yu Nuan walked to the foot of the mountain and looked at the green rice fields stretching toward the village.
This time of year, everyone was busy weeding in the dry fields on the other side.
The rice wouldn’t be harvested until early July.

Thinking for a moment, she shouldered her basket and headed toward the rice paddies.

About ten days before harvest, the fields were drained,
but there was still some water left, and where there’s water, there’s food.

She took off her straw sandals, rolled up her pants, and stepped into the paddy.
Wading through the water channels, she began feeling around with her hands.

Nothing turned up for a while, so she switched to using her small basket to trap things along the trenches.

After finishing one field, she only had a few pinky-sized freshwater shrimp.
Small, but still meat.

She threaded them on a blade of grass and moved on to the next paddy.

Back and forth she went, wading through the rice fields—
and finally, something! She lifted the basket.

Three palm-sized rice field fish squirmed inside, bellies round and fat.

These fish were notoriously slippery.
Catching them was like playing hide-and-seek—she’d worked hard for that haul.

She strung them up through the gills and placed them in a small ditch she dug along the field path to keep them alive.

Then she went off to another paddy.

After another stretch of searching, she finally netted two palm-sized crucian carp and a big bunch of snails.

Back at the ditch, she scooped up the fish and shrimp into her basket, smoothed the dirt back in place to hide the waterhole,
then turned toward home.

On the way, she passed a raised ridge and noticed a clump of cylindrical green grass growing thickly at its base.

Hmm? That looks familiar…

She pulled one up.

“Wild scallions!!!”

Sure enough—it was wild green onions!
Yu Nuan was delighted.

Late May through June was peak season for wild scallions…

In another two or three months, once the autumn frost arrived, the wild scallions would taste even sweeter.

Grinning with delight, Yu Nuan set down her basket and began pulling up scallions along the field ridge.
It didn’t take long before she had a large handful in her grasp.

These were far more fragrant than anything she could grow herself—
perfect for stir-fried cured meat, scrambled eggs, cold salads, or pickling. Truly delicious.

She hadn’t tasted wild scallions like these since she was a kid.

She tugged up a large bunch but still left plenty in the ground.
She wasn’t even sure if people in this era ate wild scallions.

Looking at her harvest-packed basket, she gave it a satisfied bounce.

“Dad~ I’m back—huh? Xiao Wu, are you building a chicken coop?”

As soon as Yu Nuan stepped into the courtyard, she spotted the finished pigpen.
Next to it, Wu Linghong was crouched behind a half-completed frame of bamboo strips.

“Had some time left, so I figured I’d build you a chicken coop too. Makes it easier to raise the little animals.”

Hearing her voice, Wu Linghong looked up and flashed a wide grin.
His face was flushed from the sun—dark with a rosy hue.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead and bent back down to weave more bamboo fencing.

The base of the coop was made from thin dry bamboo, laid into a one-and-a-half-meter-long, fifty-centimeter-tall nest-like frame.
The sides were made of bamboo strips woven between four vertical wooden posts.
Only the right side and the roof remained unfinished.

Yu Nuan glanced at Yu Father, a questioning look in her eyes: You’re just letting him do all the work?
Yu Father, who was shaving bamboo strips at the side, saw her glance and gave her a helpless shake of the head.

He had already told this Wu kid to take a break and stop working.

As for the chicken coops, he was actually quite skilled at making them.
They even had an old spare coop lying around.

They used to raise chicks, but whether it was the wild animals from the mountains or the day-night temperature swings,
the chicks never survived for long.

He’d made several coops before—most of them had been sold off. Only one remained.

But Wu Linghong was just that kind of person: a warm-hearted guy who did what he said he’d do.

“Well, you two carry on. I’m going to cook dinner.”

Seeing that the matter was out of her hands, Yu Nuan gave a brief farewell and carried her basket into the house.

Wu Linghong might’ve simply been lending a hand out of kindness,
seeing how hard off their family was,
or maybe Yu Father had agreed too readily earlier, and since both men were the straightforward type, it was only natural for him to help.

After all, this piece of land had long been seen by the village as belonging to the Yu family…

“Yu Nuan, do you need me to help with anything?”

Just as she stepped into the kitchen, Yu Mother emerged, feeling her way along the doorframe.

“No need, Mom. Just take care of Gou Wang. The food will be ready soon.”

Yu Mother pressed her lips together, feeling useless and old.

Sigh… Seeing the look on her mother’s face, Yu Nuan softened her tone. She couldn’t let the old lady feel discouraged.

“Mom, could you sew me an outer garment?”

She put her basket down and walked up to Yu Mother.

She knew her mother had been blind for years, but blind people had their own ways of doing things—
when sight was gone, the senses of touch and smell became incredibly sharp.

Yu Mother had once been a skilled seamstress.
For years, all the family’s clothes were made by her hands.

It was just that they’d been so poor, they hadn’t bought fabric in ages, so the skill had fallen into disuse.

This morning, when Yu Nuan asked about making clothes, she had noticed Yu Mother hesitate,
even lovingly holding the cloth she brought out, running her hands over it again and again,
measuring it carefully by feel.

Now, hearing her daughter’s request, a visible joy lit up Yu Mother’s face.

She had wanted to suggest it earlier but worried her rusty hands might ruin the fabric—she would have felt terrible.

Now, with Yu Nuan’s words, her confidence rekindled.

“This… do you think I can still manage?”

“Of course you can! You’ve been sewing for so many years.
You could even do it in total darkness back then—now will be no problem.
And even if the fabric ends up with a few imperfections, it doesn’t matter at all.”

With that, Yu Nuan walked into the house and handed her a roll of coarse linen.

Yu Mother’s voice trembled, “Alright, alright. I’ll sew your clothes right away.”

She turned and felt her way to the bed,
where her old sewing tools had been carefully stashed away for years.

Yu Nuan watched her quietly from the door, then sighed inwardly:

At this age, what they fear most is having nothing to do—just sitting around with their thoughts.