Chapter 33: My Hand Was Cut Off

Before Wang San could speak, a chilling voice from Wang Man cut through the air:

“Do you all feel like you’ve got one tongue too many? Want me to help cut it out for you?”

The group scattered like birds and beasts.

They had all witnessed clearly how this girl had killed that giant snake. She was getting more and more formidable. Better to avoid trouble where they could.

Wang San walked at the front, grinning so wide his teeth showed.

So he wasn’t the only one afraid of Manniang—these were all grown men, too. That thought gave Wang San a strange sense of balance in his heart.

Wang Man had initially planned to have Wang San run a few more errands, but thinking of his slippery ways, she figured she’d better supervise him herself.

Sure enough, from a distance, she saw a few of them talking.

It wasn’t until she got closer that she realized they were talking about her—that’s why she’d spoken up to intimidate them.

The two of them had spent the whole day chopping wood, completely filling the small woodshed.

Wang San wasn’t used to working this hard—he was so exhausted he didn’t even want to wiggle a toe.

If Wang Man hadn’t insisted, he would’ve probably tried to talk his way out of bathing again.

The next morning, Wang San was planning to sneak off to town to idle away the day, only to get caught by Wang Man and dragged back up the mountain to chop more wood.

He was exasperated.
“Manniang, we brought back enough firewood yesterday to last at least ten days or half a month.
Why don’t we take a break today? We can wait till it’s all burned up, then go chop more.”

He hadn’t been to town in several days, and the itch was unbearable.

But no way was Wang Man going to agree.

“What if it runs out and it rains again? What’re you gonna burn, your legs?
Besides, the weather’s clearly getting colder. We need to store up more for winter.”

Wang San still didn’t want to budge.

“Winter’s still a ways off. When the time comes, Wang Qing and the others will help.
It’s always like that every year, no need to worry so much.”

Wang Man flared up instantly, shouting:

“Did you lose a hand? Or a leg?
Everything’s always ‘Wang Qing and the others’—they’re not your sons! They don’t owe you anything.
They’re here to help take care of your Mother, not you.
You’re not even useful yourself, and at your age, you just want to slack off and enjoy life?
How much grain have you stored? How much land have you rented out? How much silver do you have?
You’ve got nothing! So work hard while you’re still young,
and stop daydreaming. They don’t owe you a thing!”

Auntie Ma Liu, standing nearby, was grinning from ear to ear.

Manya’s tongue really was sharp.

Just then, Wang Qing came in, balancing two buckets of water, and gave Wang Man a grateful look.

Little Third Aunt might be young, but she sure understood reason.

Seeing Wang Qing looking a bit embarrassed, Wang Man offered an apology:

“Wang Qing, thank you.
Give the buckets to your Third Uncle—let him carry them.”

Wang San objected immediately.

“Manniang, didn’t you say we’re going to chop wood? Let’s get moving. Let A-Qing carry the water.”

Wang Man rolled her eyes.

“First, fill the water tank. Then go chop wood.
Perfect timing—I’ll go sharpen the hatchet and twist a new rope.”

Wang San tried to protest, but Wang Man shot him a sharp look.

“Don’t tell me you’re weaker than Wang Qing. I won’t believe that for a second.”

Seeing that he still hadn’t moved, she barked:

“Get going already! At this rate, it’ll be dark before you’re done.
If you like chopping wood in the dark, I don’t mind.”

What could Wang San say? What dared he say?

Grumbling under his breath, he took Wang Qing’s buckets and trudged out.

On his way home, Wang Qing was still baffled—how could his Third Uncle be so obedient to Little Third Aunt?

Wang Yida was weaving a basket in the Courtyard. When he saw Wang Qing return, he asked with some confusion:

“Weren’t you fetching water for your Sixth Grandmother’s house?
You filled it already?”

Water-carrying for Auntie Ma Liu’s house was split between Wang Qing and his Brother Wang Gen.

Firewood was handled by the Second and Third households.

Wang Qing recited everything Wang Man had said.
Wang Yida’s mouth twitched into a wide smile.

“Good, good. As long as Manya keeps an eye on him, your Third Uncle’s bound to change.”

Wang Qing didn’t know Wang San had ever been beaten, and still found it strange:

“Grandpa, why does Third Uncle listen to Little Third Aunt so much?
Could it be that he really, really likes her?”

Madam Lu came out and couldn’t help but laugh.

“You think your Third Uncle looks like someone capable of liking anyone?
Even if he did, it wouldn’t change his lazy, gluttonous nature.”

While helping Wang Yida sort bamboo strips, Wang Qing asked:

“Then why does he listen to her so much?
Whatever she says, he obeys. He doesn’t even talk back.”

“Because he can’t beat your Little Third Aunt!”

Madam Lu burst into hearty laughter at that.

Thinking of the time Wang San had been chased around like a monkey by Wang Man, she laughed even harder.

Wang Qing had a revelation:

“That’s true. Little Third Aunt is really fierce—even big snakes don’t scare her.
How could Third Uncle ever beat her?”

But then he frowned again:

“What if Third Uncle really gets mad one day and brings his hooligan friends to bully Little Third Aunt?”

“You think your Third Uncle is stupid?
No matter what, she’s still his Wife. He wouldn’t dare.”

Madam Lu said this with absolute certainty.

Wang Qing still had more questions, but Wang Yida barked at him:

“Enough talking. Get back to work!”

Then he shot a glance at Madam Lu.

“You too—why are you discussing this stuff with a child? Embarrassing.”

Madam Lu wiped tears from her eyes, laughing too hard to speak:

“If anyone should be embarrassed, it’s Wang San—not me.”

Wang Qing snickered and ran off. He couldn’t wait to tell A-Gen and the others.

Who would’ve thought his rough-and-tumble Third Uncle would actually get beaten by Little Third Aunt? What a surprise!

Wang San had to make several trips before the water tank was finally full.
He was just about to lie down and rest when Wang Man, already impatient, hurried him off to the mountain again.

He truly wanted to throw in the towel, but one look at Wang Man’s cold, dark eyes and he had to bite his tongue.

His body might’ve been chopping wood, but his mind was already off wandering in the town.

Wang Man didn’t bother arguing with him—as long as he was there, it was good enough.

But in his absentminded state, Wang San accidentally swung the hatchet onto his own hand.

Blood gushed out instantly. He stood there stunned for a moment, then let out a loud wail:

“Manniang! Manniang! My hand’s broken! I cut my hand off with the hatchet!”

His scream startled Wang Man, who was busy sorting firewood. She jumped and then shouted back:

“Shut up! What now?”

“Manniang! My hand! I cut it off!” Wang San whimpered, nearly crying.

In truth, it wasn’t nearly that serious.
He’d merely nicked his left index and middle fingers—two gashes deep enough to expose bone.
But fingers only have a thin layer of skin, so seeing bone was not uncommon.

The real reason for the dramatic screaming was that he didn’t want to work. He was deliberately making a fuss.

Wang Man’s heart skipped a beat. Could it really be that bad?

She rushed over, took one look, and nearly kicked Wang San in fury.

“You said your hand was chopped off—this is what you meant?
If you want it chopped off so badly, I can help you with that!”

Wang San panicked.

“I was just scared! I thought it was cut off!”

Wang Man plucked some thistle leaves nearby, crushed them in her hands, and applied them to the wound.

“There. Sit and rest for a bit. The bleeding will stop soon.”

Wang San stared, dumbfounded.

“Manniang, this is wild grass. It can stop bleeding?”