Chapter 4

Tiny snow pellets suddenly began to fall, scattering over the ground and onto the carts.

The trees stretched out their bare branches, while the wild grass in the fields lay flattened in thick overlapping layers. The ground was full of grass seeds, and flocks of sparrows hopped about, pecking everywhere.

The cartwheels rattled and clattered as they rolled across the uneven ground. Before they even reached the sparrows, the birds suddenly burst into flight, hundreds of them, flapping together before darting into the woods to hide.

Changxia sat inside the flat cart, facing backward. As the donkey cart creaked forward, his body swayed with it.

Snowflakes landed on his clothes. He pinched a few between his fingers, held them for a moment, and they melted into a tiny droplet of water, still faintly warm, clinging to his fingertips.

Pei Youwa walked alongside the cart, both hands tucked into his sleeves, silently keeping pace.

The wind picked up.

Snow whirled with it, sweeping against their faces in gusts so sharp that almost everyone instinctively squinted or raised a hand to shield their eyes.

At the front, Zhao Lianxing’s steps slowed slightly. He looked up at the sky as he walked.

Dark clouds pressed heavily above—there was no sign of it clearing soon.

At first the journey had been manageable, since the snow on the ground wasn’t yet deep. But if the snowfall piled up, or worse, if it melted into slush, the carts and animals would have trouble moving at all.

He shouted back: “Pick up the pace—we won’t stop in the next village.”

The men behind responded, tugging the donkeys and quickening their steps.

It had been three days since they left Daliu Village.

The donkey cart jolted into a trot, and Changxia instinctively grabbed the sideboard for support.

The cold wind stung his face. With the jolting of the cart, he shifted his legs, turning to sit sideways, his back against the sideboard as he curled up, feeling a little more secure.

He wore a padded jacket under his clothes, and an extra pair of socks on his feet—warmer than usual.

But with the wind rushing straight at them, and no cover on the cart, the chill still seeped through.

There was extra space on the cart since it wasn’t loaded with bedding or goods. The nine men, carrying light burdens, ran easily alongside the animals.

They were used to long journeys, their pace naturally swift.

Only Changxia was a child—small and frail. Sitting on the cart, he barely added any weight.

Pei Youwa glanced at the child’s back, saw that he sat steadily, and said nothing, focusing instead on the road.

After a while, he heard Changxia softly drawing sharp breaths through his teeth from the cold.

Turning his head, he saw the child curling up as if to bury his face into his knees, two thin, cracked, frostbitten hands shielding the back of his neck.

Before long, his exposed hands turned cold again, and he quickly tucked them back into his chest to warm them.

Only then did Pei Youwa realize his oversight—Changxia had neither a hat nor a scarf to protect his neck from the wind.

The last two days had been sunny, with little wind, and their pace had been slower, so it hadn’t mattered much. But this morning, with the sky dark and the north wind rising, the child couldn’t endure it.

He quickly unfastened—

Pei Youwa pulled down the wind-guard from his own neck and handed it over by the cart.
“Wrap this around, cover your head and neck.”

Changxia lifted his head, his gaze dull and blank.

Pei Youwa pushed it forward again. “Listen to your father.”

Changxia’s eyelashes trembled, but he still said nothing. He reached out and took it.

The wind-guard was still warm, large and thick. He clumsily unfolded it, pulled it over his head, then looped it once around his neck and hunched down.

At last, the cold wind no longer poured down through the back of his collar.

Pei Youwa saw the way he had wrapped it was messy, but at least his head, ears, and neck were all covered. Straightening his own collar and tucking in his chin, he stepped a couple of paces away from the cart and ran forward to keep up.

The hat on his head would have been too big for Changxia, and besides, after running some distance, his body had worked up a bit of heat. Taking off the hat in the middle of a cold wind could be dangerous. So he had only been able to give the wind-guard to Changxia.

The sky grew darker, snow drifting down steadily, dusting the ground and trees in a shallow layer of white.

By the time it reached the hour of You (around 5–7 pm), it was already dark.

Spotting a tea stall ahead, Zhao Lianxing slowed his pace. From here, once they passed the stall and went another two li eastward, there would be a small village.

If they tried to push on farther, Honglu Town was still more than an hour away—they would never make it tonight.

He didn’t stop at the stall, only called back to the others: “Keep going. There’s a village up ahead—we’ll rest there tonight. Just another two or three li.”

The men, who had been rushing all day, all breathed a sigh of relief at his words.

Changxia still sat on the cart. Being just a child, he could never keep up with the men’s pace.

The past two days hadn’t been so bad, since whenever they reached a village he could get down and walk around. Today, however, he had only gotten off once, at noon for the meal.

The little village held no more than twenty households, with trees half-hiding it from view.

Once they turned into it, Zhao Lianxing didn’t shout but kept a careful eye on the houses, finally stopping before the courtyard of the largest household.

He and Zhao Lianwang went in to speak with the host, while the others waited outside.

Changxia tilted his face upward, catching a few flakes of snow in his hand.

The snow was growing heavier, the north wind sharper, and everyone looked forward anxiously.

The farmer who owned the house came out. He was literate, so he checked Zhao Lianxing’s bamboo pass token and asked about the customs and geography of their native region—everything matched.

Seeing this group of dust-covered farmers, their faces honest and straightforward, and with his own spacious courtyard able to hold their carts and animals, he relented.

It was only for one night, and they only needed to borrow his stove. They had their own big pots, as well as bowls, chopsticks, and food supplies.

Since he would earn a few copper coins, he nodded, opened the gate wide, and invited them all inside.

It was dark now. Changxia had been curled up inside the cart, but when he jumped down, the farmer finally noticed there was a child among them. His brows furrowed slightly.

A sturdy middle-aged man, from a household with many male members—three brothers who had yet to divide the family estate, bold and unafraid—turned his head and directly asked:
“This child…?”

Who had ever heard of someone coming all the way from Meizhu Prefecture, traveling through towns and villages, and bringing along such a young child?

Zhao Lianxing smiled and said:
“He’s the child bride my younger brother bought for his son. Don’t worry, brother, the marriage contract is complete—it’s definitely not a case of abduction.”

The farmer’s furrowed brow relaxed a little.

When Pei Youwa heard Zhao Lianxing call out, he brought Changxia over by the hand. Then, at those words, he pulled a pouch from his chest and took out the folded marriage contract.

After reading it, the farmer returned the contract, completely reassured.

Two helpers carried things to the kitchen, busy cutting vegetables and washing rice. They called the others to help light the fire and stack the wood, everyone bustling about.

The farmer’s children found it all very novel. The bolder ones came out to watch, while the timid ones poked their heads out from behind the cotton curtain.

Changxia followed Pei Youwa closely. He spoke very little, and even when he saw children his own age, he didn’t say a word, let alone run over to play.

With snow and wind outside, only upon entering the house and stomping his numb feet on the ground did he begin to feel the icy cold in his shoes.

Some of the goods had to be carried indoors, otherwise they’d get covered in snow if left on the cart outside.

Before going back out, Pei Youwa had Changxia climb onto the kang, wrapped him in a quilt, and instructed:
“Stay here and warm up. In a little while there’ll be hot water to drink and food to eat.”

Changxia gave a small nod, curling up quietly in the corner of the kang.

Outside, the sky grew darker. With the doors and windows shut tight, and a fairly thick old quilt around him, warmth slowly returned to his hands, feet, and body.

Hearing the sound of children laughing, he lowered his eyes and rubbed at his cold cheeks.

Pei Youwa and the other men came in and out, carrying bamboo baskets and bundles, along with the unsold lanterns from the cart. The donkeys and mules could stay under the straw shed, but the cart itself had to be left in the yard.

The lanterns, after all, were made of paper. If they sat piled on the cart and were left under heavy snow all night, they would be ruined, soaked and crushed, which would be too great a loss.

Changxia noticed the decorative lanterns brought inside, their bright colors all different. His gaze lingered on them for a long time.

Before long, Pei Youwa came in carrying a teapot and a stack of bowls. He first gave Changxia half a bowl of hot water, letting him sit on the kang to drink.

Several of the men sat on the edge of the kang, drinking and chatting idly.

This whole group were rough grown men, with nothing in common to say to a child like Changxia. At most, they would look after him when it came to meals and water.

As for play—there was no time for that at all.

They still had to travel and sell goods in village after village. And especially since yesterday marked the beginning of the twelfth lunar month, they were heading back while selling along the way. Even hurrying, it would take them at least half a month.

Every time they reached a village, Pei Youwa only let Changxia stick close to him, never allowing him to play with children his own age.

One reason was fear that Changxia might get carried away and wander off. The other was that he had spent two taels and five qian of silver, and put in such effort to find a child bride for his son—

He had no choice but to stay cautious.

As for playing, once they returned to Wanyer Village, there would be plenty of children, big and small—then he could play as much as he liked.

By the time they ate, night had already fallen. The wind outside howled sharply, while inside the kang table was lit with a single candle. By that dim light, everyone bent over their bowls, shoveling food into their mouths.

Each person had a bowl of thin rice soup and two coarse steamed buns, eaten with a small basin of stewed cabbage.

Changxia sat in front of the kang table, a space Pei Youwa had deliberately left for him. He was indeed hungry, clutching a bun in his hand, carefully picking out a leaf of cabbage.

Knowing how timid and slow he ate—hesitant to move his chopsticks in front of grown men—Pei Youwa simply reached over and dropped two large chopstickfuls of cabbage into his rice soup.

The men, long used to traveling, ate quickly and hungrily. At Changxia’s slow pace, the basin of cabbage was emptied after he had barely taken two bites.

The cabbage was salty, and mixed with the thin rice soup, it went well enough with the coarse bun.

Changxia had only one bun, which for him was more than enough. Together with a bowl of steaming rice soup, with a few soft grains floating inside, it filled his stomach.

He didn’t understand what “child bride” meant. Everything was a muddle, and he lived in fear.

Yet, even though the past three days had been full of jolting travel, at every meal he ate until full, and when he went to sleep at night, his stomach was no longer empty. Compared to before, he felt far more comfortable.

This only left him more bewildered, his thoughts more tangled.

It was like the dark, hazy sky outside, full of endless wind and snow—nothing was clear, everything blurred together, like being inside a dream.

After dinner, the farm men didn’t stand on ceremony—they simply fell asleep as they were.

Changxia slept on the far left side, next to the wall. Pei Youwa did not lie right beside him; between them was a rolled-up piece of clothing.

·

The next morning, the snow had stopped, but the skies did not clear.

After loading the cart, the donkey team left the farmhouse. Zhao Lianxing called out a few times in the village, and soon people came to see.

They sold some mountain goods, lanterns, and large bamboo brooms. When no more buyers came, the donkey team rolled out of the village.

Once they reached the main road, the donkeys, mules, and men all broke into a trot.

Changxia was still sitting on the cart, wrapped in the oversized neck guard, with an extra hat on his head.

That morning, at the household where they had lodged, Pei Youwa had bought it. That family had many children, and thus many hats. For ten copper coins, he bought an old cotton cap for Changxia, one that covered his ears.

The journey home was still long, and without something to block the wind and cold, it would have been unbearable.

There weren’t many sunny days. The sky remained gloomy most of the time, though fortunately the two snowstorms they encountered passed quickly.

Changxia had never traveled such a long road, nor come so far away. He had even taken a boat across a huge, vast river.

To the west of the Qingyun River lay the borders of Yanqi Prefecture.

The donkey cart jolted along, its wheels creaking and groaning, mile after mile, no one knowing just how far they had gone.

By dusk on the eighteenth day of the twelfth month, they finally came to a complete stop in a place called Wanyer Village!