Volume One: From a Farmer to a Gentleman Chapter 22: At Twelve, One Cannot Think of Marriage

In the blink of an eye, the New Year arrived.

Joy and festivity filled every corner of the village.

On the second day of the New Year, Doumiao’s elder sisters Peach Blossom and Apricot Blossom, as well as his younger sisters Pear Blossom and Osmanthus Blossom, all came to pay their respects, bringing their families with them.

On the sixth day, they visited each relative in turn.

After greeting his eldest aunt and uncle, his second aunt and uncle, and so on, Chuliu ended up with eight copper coins in his hand. He willingly handed them to his mother.

In his previous life, he had always turned over his New Year’s money to his mother for safekeeping. She had promised to return it to him, with interest, when he turned eighteen. But when that day arrived, not only was there no interest, even the principal had vanished without a trace.

This time, he still handed it over to his mother. If he kept it, it would be taken away eventually, so he might as well give it up early and earn himself a “good child” reputation.

All the children from the relatives—ten or so, big and small—gathered in the courtyard, making it lively and bustling.

Their curious eyes all focused on Dingguangxian, the donkey.

Chuliu led the donkey, while Shiwuwu, beaming, gently lifted the children onto its back. The timid ones were held by hand as they circled slowly around the yard.

Laughter echoed throughout the courtyard.

But children's curiosity is fleeting and fickle. After some time, the thrill of riding the donkey lost its initial magic.

Tukui, the son of Chuliu’s second aunt, sidled up, asking mysteriously, “Chuliu, I heard you started reading. What can you do with that?”

“Reading…” Chuliu was about to answer, but Maisui had already learned to jump in, declaring proudly, “If you read, you can recognize characters! I’ve learned lots of them, let me show you.”

He beckoned Yezi and Caixin, “You come too, let’s write together.”

The three children used the earth as their paper and sticks as pens, writing and chanting with earnest concentration.

Tukui and the other children crowded around, watching with curiosity, but soon lost interest.

After all, they couldn’t read themselves, nor could they grasp the power and wisdom hidden between the lines.

Tukui asked again, “Chuliu, besides recognizing characters, what else can you do with reading?”

“You can tell stories. Let me tell you one.”

Chuliu knew that explaining anything else would be beyond them, so he decided to offer a story—an extra treat for the New Year.

He sat on a small stool, surrounded by attentive children.

“Once upon a time, there was a child named Ma Liang. He loved to draw, but his family was too poor to afford even a single brush. One day, after collecting firewood, he passed by the school and saw a painter inside, brush in hand, painting for a high official…”

The story was so vivid it captivated every child. Their eyes never left Chuliu, as though they had followed Ma Liang into that magical world.

Even after the story ended, the children remained lost in its spell.

“If only I had a magic brush, I’d draw tons of delicious food and eat until I was stuffed.”

“I’d draw lots of new clothes and change outfits every day.”

“I’d cover the fields with fertilizer so the wheat would grow tall and strong.”

“I’d draw…”

The children’s imaginations soared, their chatter filling the air with excitement.

Suddenly, Tukui grew serious. “Chuliu, scholars all have brushes. Did you draw your family’s donkey? Can you draw one for me?”

Chuliu burst out laughing.

“You’re dreaming! If I had that power, I wouldn’t draw you a donkey—I’d draw you a wife instead.”

“Ha ha ha…”

The children shrieked with laughter, tugging at their cheeks and teasing, “Tukui wants a wife! Tukui wants a wife…”

“You’re the ones who want wives! Whoever laughs wants a wife…”

Tukui protested, cheeks flushed, “I’m only twelve, it’s too early for that…”

Soon, the food was ready, and the children’s attention shifted to the dinner table.

There was pork, assorted pig offal, two hens that no longer laid eggs, plus radishes and dried vegetables—every dish the Xie family served was tinged with meat.

And all were heaped into big basins.

Xie Gensheng sat with them, watching his children and grandchildren eat with greasy mouths, his wrinkles brimming with satisfaction and joy.

As one grows old, the greatest happiness is to be surrounded by family, laughter and warmth.

The joy of family is the most precious wealth, the warmest bond in ordinary days.

…

The next morning, soon after the sun rose, Doumiao prepared the donkey cart, dressed the children in new clothes, and set off for his father-in-law’s house.

Worried the children might get cold, he placed two quilts inside the cart.

Zheng Mei cradled a basket of duck eggs, while Yezi, Caixin, and Chuliu, like fledglings, wrapped themselves in quilts and nestled close to their mother.

Shiwuwu drove the cart, with Doumiao walking alongside, afraid the donkey would be overworked with so many passengers.

Doumiao quickened his pace, silently reminding himself that the New Year should be harmonious—no mishaps this time.

Arriving with a donkey cart to pay respects to his father-in-law was akin to showing up in a luxury car in modern times, drawing plenty of envy from the villagers.

Upon arrival, Zheng Dan Niu and others came out to greet them. Doumiao studied their expressions—everyone seemed normal—and finally relaxed.

Zheng Mei took the children and gifts inside, while Doumiao busied himself unloading, tethering the donkey, and feeding it some dry grass before strolling inside.

The adults chatted indoors, while the children played in the courtyard.

…

Perhaps due to seniority, the children in the courtyard were either uncles or aunts, the sons and daughters of the elder and second uncles—Chuliu’s peers—but he didn’t feel the same excitement as yesterday, sitting alone against the wall to bask in the sun.

Zheng Jin was fascinated by Dingguangxian, the donkey. He picked up a small branch, intending to tap its forehead.

But the donkey misunderstood, thinking it was being fed, and stepped forward, mouth open to bite.

Zheng Jin thought it was coming for him, dropped the branch, and ran, tripping as he fled, prompting laughter from the other children.

“Don’t laugh! Who told you to laugh?” Zheng Jin, bossy as ever, pointed at his siblings and scolded, “If anyone laughs again, I’ll tell Mother and have your bottoms spanked!”

When everyone stopped laughing, he ordered Yezi and Caixin, “You two, come over and help me catch the donkey. I want to smack its head.”

Hearing this, the girls refused, shaking their heads and running to Chuliu.

Zheng Jin seemed too fierce; they feared being bullied, so they felt safest at their brother’s side.

After all, they were relatives, and Zheng Jin couldn’t be too harsh, so he barked orders at his siblings instead.

Chuliu couldn’t bear it any longer and stood up, saying, “They’re your brothers and sisters. Can’t you be a little nicer?”

Zheng Jin replied indignantly, “They’re not real siblings.”

The words stung, darkening everyone’s faces.

Chuliu seized the moment. “In that case, you’re not a real sibling either. Why should they listen to you?”

That shut Zheng Jin up.

Zheng Xiao Shi and the others, hearing Chuliu stand up for them, all ran to his side.

Seeing his little sister Xiu Hong join them, Zheng Jin shouted, “Xiu Hong, you’re real family. Don’t go over there!”

Xiu Hong quickly stopped. If she joined them, Zheng Jin would surely tattle, and she’d get scolded.

Zheng Jin was disgruntled.

At home, all the children obeyed his orders; now, Chuliu and the others, his nephews, dared to defy him.

Infuriated, he marched over and pointed at Chuliu. “Chuliu, go catch the donkey for me.”

Yezi retorted, “It’s our family’s Dingguangxian.”

Zheng Jin was surprised. “The donkey has a name?”

Chuliu snorted, “You have a name, why shouldn’t the donkey have one?”