The Li family had brought a lot of food. Their family—husband, wife, sons, daughters, in-laws, and elders—numbered over twenty. Their winter stores were barely enough, but even a single grain of rice was precious to Wei Cheng and Guan Guan.

The Li family, strangers to Wei Cheng, had done so much for him, his heart and eyes welled up. “Dalang, Sablang, I’m grateful for your help. I won’t be ungrateful. Wei Cheng remembers, and I will repay you.”

He wasn’t upset when others were unkind, only angry. But when others were kind, he felt overwhelmed with gratitude.

“Don’t mention it. You’re from Maoxi Village, and the Li family received help from your father,” Dalang waved his hand.

The help referred to when the village head’s wife lacked milk when giving birth to her youngest son. Wei Da Nian had sold a mother mountain goat cheaply to the Li family.

Dalang and Sablang instructed Wei Cheng on where to gather firewood, to secure the door, and not to open it to strangers before leaving.

Wei Cheng closed the door after they left. He looked at Guan Guan, whose face was flushed in sleep, his long eyelashes drooping, a bead of sweat on his nose. He seemed to have slept too warmly.

Wei Cheng took things out of the backpack, putting them away, covering Guan Guan with a thin but clean quilt. It was warm now, but it would get cold later.

The last item in the backpack was Guan Guan’s treasure.

Usually, Guan Guan kept it with him while sleeping and eating. Now, he’d let Wei Cheng carry it.

Wei Cheng wiped the small, round, yellowish-brown pot with a damp cloth. It looked dirty but was clean. He looked inside—no dirt, but…

It seemed bottomless? It was only palm-sized.

Wei Cheng rubbed his eyes, thinking he was mistaken. He extinguished the fire, added firewood to the kang, and went to bed.

Guan Guan slept inside, Wei Cheng outside. Feeling the warmth, Wei Cheng slept soundly for the first time since arriving in Maoxi Village.

Guan Guan stirred in his sleep, smelling a familiar scent.

He called out sleepily, “Brother.”

He rubbed his eyes and sat up, looking around with confused eyes.

“Awake?”

Wei Cheng held a wooden bowl to him. “I’ve kept it warm for you, eat.”

He’d only brought one bowl from the Wei family, finding it in the clutter. It contained porridge with cabbage leaves. The rice was soft and the cabbage tender.

Guan Guan was overwhelmed by the aroma, swallowing hard. “Brother, eat first.”

“There’s more on the stove. I cooked a small pot, we can both eat.”

Guan Guan solemnly accepted the bowl and drank it all.

Wei Cheng exclaimed, “Slowly, don’t choke.”

Guan Guan was very hungry.

After finishing, Guan Guan asked, “Brother, where did the rice and cabbage come from?”

Wei Cheng told Guan Guan about Dalang and Sablang’s visit. Guan Guan nodded. “Village Head Uncle is a good person.”

“Yes, he helped us, we can’t be ungrateful.” Wei Cheng said, “Tonight, Brother will go to the mountain to catch golden frogs.”

Guan Guan said, “Guan Guan will go with Brother!”

Wei Cheng shook his head. “It’s dangerous. Wait for Brother at home. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

Guan Guan’s eyes filled with tears.

“Okay, okay, don’t cry, we’ll go together.”

Wei Cheng felt distressed when Guan Guan cried.

The Li family gave them new rice. Wei Cheng used half for porridge, four bowls, one for each of them in the morning, saving the rest for the evening.

In winter, villagers ate twice a day. Wei Cheng wasn’t sure where Guan Guan came from, so he roasted ground beans for him at noon.

The beans were crispy on the outside, soft and sweet inside. Guan Guan ate happily, his face and hands dirty, unaware, swaying his feet, watching Wei Cheng tend the fire, organize his things, and prepare medicine.

He organized the things piled in the corner. He had three packets of medicine left. Though his head and body no longer hurt, he planned to finish the medicine.

He saw Guan Guan had become a little mud-pie again. The child tilted his head and showed him his teeth.

Wei Cheng laughed and wiped his face.

“Look at you. Lift your head.”

Guan Guan obediently let him wipe his face, his large eyes blinking, his dirty hands still, looking adorable, like a little cat.

Wei Cheng was gentle, the child’s skin was tender, and his cheeks were chapped from crying in the wind. “Does it hurt?”

“No.” Guan Guan said obediently.

“When we have money, Brother will buy you face cream, so your face won’t chap.”

Wei Cheng remembered his father bringing face cream and hair oil for Qin Shi. In winter, when he played outside, his face would turn red, and Qin Shi would use her cream-covered hands to touch his face. He remembered it clearly.

Guan Guan swayed his feet. “Okay, okay, want fragrant cream.”

He asked excitedly, “Brother, when are we going to the mountain?”

“When it’s darker. And you don’t have a coat. Brother needs to find a way.”

He had twenty cash, given by the herbalist and Mo, enough for eggs or pork, but not for cotton or cloth.

He couldn’t keep bothering Mo.

Wei Cheng planned to see Ma Doumiao after taking his medicine.

Guan Guan got sleepy after eating the beans, playing with his clay pot, mumbling to himself. Wei Cheng heard silence, and saw the child curled up asleep, hugging his pot.

Wei Cheng carefully adjusted his position, covered him with the quilt, and removed his hand from under his face.

Wei Cheng left the hut and went down the mountain.

He heard laughter near the herbalist’s house. He saw Ma Doumiao, Quan, Fang Wen, and other boys playing a game on the ice. Ma Doumiao was watching.

“Cheng!”

Ma Doumiao ran towards him. “Cheng! I was going to find you! Let’s play!”

“Doumiao…”

Quan, seeing Fang Wen’s unhappy expression, said, “Are you playing or not? We’re leaving.”

Ma Doumiao stared at them. “What? I’ll play! Cheng’s here, we’ll play together! Are you leaving? Weren’t we going to compete?”

“With Cheng, we’ll have to wait. It’s cold, and his clothes aren’t thick enough. He should go back to the hut,” Fang Wen said smoothly.

Scholars usually studied hard, but Fang Wen had been playing since his holiday. Was he really studying?

Wei Cheng said, “I’m not playing. I need to talk to Doumiao.”

Ma Doumiao followed Wei Cheng. “I’m not playing either!”

Quan watched them leave, feeling resentful. Everyone liked Ma Doumiao, but he liked playing with Wei Cheng, who was poor and unlucky!

Away from the others, Ma Doumiao asked, “Cheng, what do you want to talk about?”