Chapter 27: Empathy

Zhao Dali’s home was located near the mountains in the northern part of the town. The mud-brick walls had mostly collapsed, and the yard had no gate. The two low mud houses had half of their roof beams fallen, looking precarious. The surrounding area was desolate, with few households, making the place seem even lonelier.

This wasn’t a home; it was an abandoned courtyard.

As Wang Yuan’er took a few more steps closer, it was eerily quiet. There were no sounds of mourning or crying, unlike the lively scenes at other funerals. The Zhao family were outsiders with no relatives. The complete absence of crying made it all the more sorrowful.

She stopped at the gate, her eyes falling on the person who had just come out.

At funerals, especially when a father dies, children are supposed to wear mourning clothes. However, what was Zhao Dali wearing?

In the middle of winter, he wore thin clothes. His father had died, but he wasn’t properly dressed in mourning attire. Instead, he had only a white cloth strip tied around his waist, arm, and forehead. His face was haggard, and his expression was cold.

Zhao Dali seemed surprised to see Wang Yuan’er, but the surprise quickly faded, and he tried to walk past her.

“I… I heard about it.”

Zhao Dali stopped and turned to look at her, his lips tightly pressed together.

For a twelve or thirteen-year-old boy to have such a cold and hard expression, it was like the ice and snow of winter, sending chills down one’s spine.

Wang Yuan’er swallowed and said, “I also lost my father not long ago. My condolences.”

Zhao Dali sneered, “Are you here to pity me?” Without waiting for her to reply, he continued, “Unfortunately, I don’t feel pitiful. Someone like him was bound to die sooner or later. Whether early or late, it’s just death. Now that he’s dead, it’s over.” He spoke lightly, with disdain and hatred in his voice, but Wang Yuan’er still detected loneliness and sadness.

With both parents gone, he was now an orphan!

She saw the stubborn set of his mouth and the glimmer of tears in his eyes. Wang Yuan’er couldn’t help but think of her past life and compare it to this one, feeling a deep sense of empathy.

Gurgle, gurgle.

Standing close, Wang Yuan’er clearly heard his stomach growl. She quickly squatted down and opened the clay pot in her basket. She took a clean cloth and wrapped the seven or eight remaining tea eggs, handing them to him, “Here.”

Zhao Dali looked at the steaming dark eggs, smelling the aroma. He swallowed but didn’t take them, saying, “I don’t have money.”

Wang Yuaner’s tea eggs were famous in Changle Town, and he knew they sold for five wen each. But he didn’t even have five wen, so he had to get a coffin board on credit.

“I don’t need your money,” Wang Yuan’er said, stuffing the eggs into his arms. “Eat. There’s still a lot to do, and you’ll need your strength.” She thought about it and, remembering the money she’d made today, bit her lip, took her purse, and handed it to him, “This is all I can give you.”

Zhao Dali was stunned, feeling the heat from the purse. He asked, “Why?”

Wang Yuan’er picked up her basket. Why? She looked at the distant mountains and said, “Like you, I also lost my father.” If fate’s wheel continued to turn as before, she might lose her mother in the future and experience the pain of losing loved ones again.

Chapter 28: Another Dispute

Wang Yuan’er returned home full of worries. As soon as she stepped into the courtyard, she heard a sweet voice calling her, “I really can’t tell. Usually, you look so serious, but you’re quite good at playing coy.”

Wang Yuan’er didn’t need to think to know whose voice it was. Who else but Wang Min’er?

Having heard somewhere that the young ladies in the city spoke in sweet, delicate voices, Wang Min’er imitated them. Every time she spoke in that coy manner, it made people cringe.

Wang Yuan’er put down her basket, her mind full of Zhao Niu’s death and anxious to see Madam Liang. She didn’t want to bother with Wang Min’er.

“I’m talking to you; why are you ignoring me?” Wang Min’er, seeing Wang Yuan’er ignore her, straightened up.

Wang Yuan’er glared at her, “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb. My mother saw it all,” Wang Min’er said, swaggering over and looking her up and down with disdain. “I can’t believe you fancy a poor wretch like Zhao Dali. Are you blind?”

Wang Yuan’er, confused, was about to ask for clarification when Madam Zhang walked out of the main house and said, “Yuan’er, your grandmother is calling you.” She then told Wang Min’er, “Go call your aunt.”

This time, Wang Min’er didn’t hesitate and eagerly went to the east room.

Wang Yuan’er frowned, noticing Wang Min’er’s look of anticipation. For what?

She quickly found out!

“I didn’t know Second Aunt had a habit of following people like a dog,” Wang Yuan’er sneered at Madam Zhang.

It turned out Madam Zhang had seen her go to Zhao Dali’s house and followed her, witnessing her giving money and eggs to Zhao Dali.

“Sister-in-law, how do you teach your children? What kind of talk is that?” Madam Zhang glared at Madam Liang.

Madam Liang pulled Wang Yuan’er’s sleeve.

Wang Yuan’er, annoyed, didn’t want to waste words with her and looked at Grandma Wang, “I gave a few eggs to Zhao Dali because I felt sorry for him being an orphan. It has nothing to do with what Second Aunt thinks about men.”

“Yes, Mother, Yuan’er is a kind-hearted child. You know that,” Madam Liang quickly added, knowing a woman’s reputation was important.

“Oh, but you gave him the money bag, too,” Madam Zhang sneered, picking at her nails. “Our family isn’t wealthy, and your household has no men to earn money. As the eldest daughter, you should turn in your earnings. Instead, you generously give away a bag of money. What’s the point?”

“Grandma said I could keep the money I earn. I used my money to do a good deed. What’s wrong with that?” Wang Yuan’er coldly replied. “People say good deeds are remembered for a thousand years. I seek blessings from Buddha for our family’s safety. Grandma, is that wrong?”

Grandma Wang opened her eyes. She was a devout Buddhist, with a small shrine in the main house where she offered incense daily.

“You don’t know the value of money. Prices are rising, and that money could have covered our expenses for several days,” Madam Zhang retorted. “Your second uncle works hard to support this family, and you just throw money away. Isn’t that wasteful?”