Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Human Heart

Such a scene startled Yun Niang as well. She hurried downstairs and saw Gou Ye’s face filled with rage, his eyes brimming with tears. Not knowing what had happened, she overheard someone saying, “Gou Ye, you haven’t even married Yun Niang yet, and you’ve already brought her and her mother into your home. Aren’t you a girl yourself? Have you no sense of shame?”

At these words, Gou Ye could no longer contain himself. He charged into the crowd, and if not for the villagers restraining him, a fight would have ensued. Suddenly, a loud shout rang out. Da Li, wielding a hefty club, pushed aside the crowd and stood before Gou Ye. “Who dares insult my master? If any of you utter another word against him, don’t blame me, Da Li, for smashing your skull with this club today!” With that, he struck the wooden fence hard. The sharp crack echoed as the fence instantly splintered.

In an instant, the crowd fell silent. Da Li drove them away, and as they left, they continued to point fingers at Gou Ye, but he paid them no mind. He led Yun Niang back into the house.

Gou Ye sat in the study, stunned and lost. He murmured to himself, “Why has it turned out like this? Why?” Yun Niang, deeply aggrieved, turned away and began to cry. Yun Niang’s mother stumbled downstairs, coughing violently. Seeing the scene, she asked Da Li what had happened.

After Da Li explained, Yun Niang’s mother fell into another fit of coughing, her illness seeming to worsen. Gou Ye and Yun Niang quickly helped her to her room. Standing on the balcony of the second floor, Gou Ye looked out at the village, his heart burning with resentment. In that moment, he began to dislike this place. Suddenly, the people here seemed so hypocritical, so venomous. This was no longer the Tumen Village he once loved.

Da Li stood beside him, equally indignant. He did not know how to comfort Gou Ye; all he knew was that he must protect Gou Ye’s family from harm.

Just then, a frail voice called out from below, shouting Gou Ye’s name with urgency, making his way toward Gou Ye’s house. Looking down, Gou Ye saw it was Chief Li hurrying over.

Was Chief Li also here to demand silver? One after another, everyone seemed to be coming. Yet this was the man Gou Ye respected most. With a snort, he resolved to go downstairs and hear what he had to say.

When Gou Ye, his face still full of anger, reached the door, Chief Li suddenly knelt to the ground, sobbing bitterly. “Gou, my boy, your grandfather has wronged you! I’ve let you suffer a great injustice!”

Moved by this, Gou Ye hastened to help the chief up. This was the first person to say such words, and Gou Ye could not help but shed tears once more.

Back inside, the chief held Gou Ye’s hand tightly. “My boy, I know what happened this morning. You’ve been wronged—far too much.”

“It’s all right, Chief. I... I haven’t taken it to heart,” Gou Ye replied, feigning composure.

“Don’t say that. Look at you, so angry you can barely speak. Gou Ye, let me talk with you alone.” Chief Li, treating Gou Ye as his own child, patted his head, sighed, and led him to the study.

“My poor boy, do you know why things turned out this way today?”

Gou Ye sighed deeply. “I don’t know, Chief.”

“In truth, your kindness was not wrong. You are very compassionate, and you did as I asked—helping the villagers, repairing houses, spreading bedding, providing rice, flour, oil, and other essentials to poor families. You even gave them silver from your own pocket. But precisely because of this, you may have done too much.”

Gou Ye looked at the chief, puzzled, as he continued, “As the old saying goes, ‘A cup of rice breeds gratitude, a bushel breeds resentment.’ You gave so generously and openly to these villagers, thinking they would remember your kindness. But I tell you, not only will they not, they will resent you. Why? Because they compare. They always think you gave more to others and less to them.”

“Don’t they realize it’s my own money? I have the right to give or not to give, and how much I give is my own intention. How could they think this way? And Chief, what I can’t understand is that even those I didn’t help have come demanding money, as if I owe them by default. If I’d known it would end like this, I’d never have done these good deeds, not for anything. Truly, I was idle and brought trouble upon myself.”

Hearing Gou Ye’s complaints, the chief couldn’t help but laugh. He patted Gou Ye’s shoulder and said, “My boy, you’re usually so clever—how could you be so foolish today? The most terrifying thing in this world is the human heart, and the most uncontrollable thing is the human heart. Everyone has a selfish side, though it’s not usually magnified. Your good deeds awakened their greed. They think, ‘If you gave him, why not me? If you gave him more, why not me?’ In moments blinded by profit, they forget why you gave more or less, or that your gifts went to those truly suffering. All they see is that they didn’t receive, so they blame you, ungrateful and accusing you of unfairness.”

“Grandpa Li, does that mean my good deeds were wrong?” Gou Ye asked, feeling aggrieved.

“It is better to teach a man to fish than to give him a fish. Giving money to those capable of earning more is charity, but what happens when they spend it all? Will you give again? You’re talented—why not help them find ways to make a living? Charity can save, but it can also harm. If you cut off their desire to work hard and prosper, of course they’ll only think of whether you’ll keep giving, and those who received nothing will hope to profit without labor from you.”

At this moment, Yun Niang entered, offering the chief a cup of tea. He took a sip, feeling refreshed, and continued, “I heard from my son that they said many venomous things, even slandering Yun Niang. You two must not take it to heart. Our villagers are uneducated, their tempers coarse. When blinded by greed, they’ll say anything to vent their inner imbalance. If you ask if they truly feel this way, and if so, should they be punished? They’ll say, ‘What does it have to do with me? It’s their own business.’ You see, this is the human heart. It changes. Whether it changes for the better or worse depends on what you do. It’s not easy to do good, but easy to be petty; easy to be a villain, hard to be a gentleman. But you mustn’t let the ease of small-mindedness tempt you into wrongdoing, nor let the difficulty of nobility make you fearful or lose faith. Gou Ye, you and Yun Niang are smart and still young. Grandfather believes you can do even better.”