Chapter 2896: New Journey (2)

By the time full darkness fell, the kerosene lamps were lit. The small courtyard glowed in warm yellow light. Through the kitchen window, Mother's busy silhouette moved against the steam — the pot boiling, bubbles rising, the aroma of stewed meat growing stronger, mingling with scallions and ginger sizzling in the wok, drifting through the entire yard.

Neighbors who had heard the news came to help, carrying over tables and bowls from their own homes. Women crouched beside basins of water, scrubbing pots and ladles, hauling chairs and benches.

Both household lamps were lit, but still not enough, so torches were kindled as well, turning the yard bright as day. The little farmstead hummed with warmth and anticipation.

Tan Shuangxi sat on the threshold of the main room, watching it all. His younger brother had returned from shopping, the Zidian loaded to the brim, dripping with sweat. He hurried over to help unload. Father came back soon after, carrying a string of live fish threaded on a grass rope.

The warmth of the courtyard seemed to wrap around him. He sat there lazily, reluctant to move, savoring the attention and kindness people showered on him. He knew in his heart that these beautiful times would not last long — he would soon be setting out again.

Tan Shuangqing suddenly called out from the gate: "Ma! Caiwang's here!"

Tan Shuangxi hurried over to greet him. Caiwang stood at the entrance, a smile on his face, carrying something carefully wrapped in old burlap.

"Brother Shuangxi!" Caiwang called out, stepping into the courtyard.

"Caiwang's here!" Mother leaned out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. "Come in, sit down — we were just talking about you!"

"Auntie, don't mind me, keep at your work," Caiwang said, walking up to Tan Shuangxi and offering the cloth-wrapped bundle. "Brother Shuangxi, congratulations. I don't have anything fine to give you, but this... you'll find it useful on campaign."

Tan Shuangxi unwrapped the burlap. Inside was a large water gourd. It was perfectly shaped, its surface carefully polished and coated with tung oil, smooth and gleaming. A carrying net of fine hemp rope was woven around it, with a strap for slinging over the shoulder.

"I made it myself." Caiwang rubbed his hands, somewhat self-conscious. "I've been wanting to give you something for a long time, but I could never come up with anything decent. Our gourds came in plentiful this year, so I picked this one and worked on it for a month — it's nothing valuable, just rough handiwork. You can use it to carry wine or water on the march. Handy on the road..."

"Caiwang..." Tan Shuangxi's throat tightened. For a moment, he didn't know what to say. The thing wasn't worth much money, and he wasn't lacking a canteen, but the sincerity behind it was utterly genuine, without the slightest pretense.

"You went to a lot of trouble, brother." In the end, he simply clapped Caiwang hard on the shoulder and cradled the gourd to his chest. "This gift is better than anything. I'll definitely carry it with me. You take care of yourself too."

Caiwang smiled, and in that smile the old bitterness and self-mockery were gone, replaced by a measure of calm and steadiness. "I'm glad you can use it. Me, I was in a dark place a while back, felt like the sky had caved in. But then I thought — how can a man live a whole life without a few bumps? You fall down, you get back up. Life goes on; you've got to keep moving forward."

As he spoke, his eyes were clear and his voice steady. Watching him, the stone that had been suspended in Tan Shuangxi's heart on Caiwang's behalf finally settled.

"That's the spirit!" Father happened to walk over with the fish just then and overheard. He said in a hearty voice, "What real man worries about finding a wife! What's a little tumble! Caiwang, tonight you drink your fill — we're celebrating Shuangxi's promotion, and celebrating you, boy... coming back to your senses!"

"Yes, sir!" Caiwang replied brightly, rolling up his sleeves. "Uncle, what needs doing? I've got plenty of strength!"

Another commotion arose at the gate, far livelier than when Caiwang had arrived. Tan Shuangxi looked up and saw Old Chen striding in, hands behind his back, dressed in a brand-new indigo fine-cloth jacket. Behind him followed two young men of the Chen clan, carrying a tray covered with red cloth.

The neighbors who had been helping all paused mid-motion, their eyes turning in unison. Old Chen was the foremost man of consequence in the village — he rarely appeared at ordinary celebrations or condolences, usually sending nephews in his stead.

"Brother Tan, congratulations, congratulations!" Old Chen's voice was resonant, his face bearing a smile of perfect calibration — warm enough to seem genuine, yet not so much as to compromise his dignity. He walked to the front of the main room and first nodded at Tan Shuangxi. "Shuangxi, well done! You've brought honor to our village!"

"Old Chen, you're too kind — please, sit." Father hurried forward to greet him, but his heart beat a little uneasily — this was no ordinary courtesy call.

Old Chen was in no rush to sit. He turned and took the tray from one of the young men behind him, then lifted the red cloth. Under the lamplight, a sheen of silvery-red gloss caught everyone's eye.

It was a bolt of silk — top-quality Hu silk, in a lovely silvery-red hue, with faint but intricate peony vine patterns visible beneath the firelight. Such a thing was rarely seen in the village, and its price was beyond what any ordinary farming household would dare imagine.

The courtyard fell instantly silent, save for the clatter of the cooking spatula in the kitchen. The women washing vegetables stopped their hands; the men setting tables straightened up — all staring at the bolt of silk gleaming softly in the firelight.

Father and Mother were both stunned. Mother wiped her hands on her apron instinctively, as if afraid of soiling the fabric. For a moment, neither knew what to say. This gift was far too heavy — far beyond the weight of ordinary neighborly exchanges.

"Old... Old Chen, this — this won't do!" Father collected himself and waved his hands hastily. "Far too valuable, far too valuable! We appreciate the thought, but we absolutely cannot accept this!"

Old Chen only smiled more deeply, pressing the bolt forward. "Brother, now you're being too formal. This is a great occasion for Shuangxi — he's going to be an officer, with a bright future ahead. This little thing is just my regard as an elder." He paused, his gaze sweeping over Tan Shuangxi, his words laden with implication. "The fabric is fine, the color is just right. Save it for when Shuangxi gets married — have a proper shirt made for the bride. Consider it my small token."

Tan Shuangxi stood to one side, seeing things with crystal clarity. If Old Chen had merely been "polite" when he returned on leave, this was now a proper attempt to cultivate a connection. In a village, having a tie to an officer would be of great benefit in the future, whether for getting things done or for keeping up appearances.

Father was still declining, his face conflicted. "This... how could we presume..."

"What's there to presume?" Old Chen would brook no refusal, pressing the silk into Father's hands. "We live in the same village — looking out for one another is our duty. Shuangxi's success brings honor to us all. Take it — you must take it!" His tone was firm, the voice of a man who had spent decades commanding any room he entered.

The silk was smooth and faintly cool to the touch, substantial in weight. Father held it, unable to accept it yet unable to refuse, and looked awkwardly at Tan Shuangxi.

Tan Shuangxi knew that further refusal would seem affected and would also slight Old Chen's face. He stepped forward and bowed formally. "I am humbled by your generosity, and I accept. I'll keep your kindness in my heart. No matter where I go in the future, I will never forget the care of my hometown elders."

Old Chen nodded in satisfaction, his smile growing a shade more genuine. "Good lad — you know your manners!" He surveyed the courtyard and spotted Caiwang squatting in the corner helping chop wood. His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, but he quickly smiled again. "Caiwang's here too? Good, good — young people should mingle more."

Only then did he take the seat of honor that had been offered to him, accepting the tea Tan Shuangqing handed over and taking a leisurely sip. He chatted a bit about the customs of Jeju Island and asked what unit Shuangxi was heading to, his tone full of an elder's concern, as though that priceless bolt of silk had been nothing more than a common trifle given away on a whim.

Villagers came to offer congratulations in an endless stream. Next came the village chief, the accountant, and the militia captain. The number of visitors far exceeded what the Tan family had anticipated. Old Tan and his two sons had to set down their tasks and receive guests at the gate.

Fortunately, most people simply came to offer their congratulations and then left, bringing no gifts, or at most a few simple local products. Tan Shuangxi breathed a little easier.

Amid the socializing, they saw Old Huang approaching with a stooped back, carrying an old cloth bundle, walking slowly but with a smile on his face. Entering the yard, he went straight to Tan Shuangxi and, with trembling hands, pulled out a string of straw sandals from the bundle — five or six pairs at least.

"Shuangxi, my boy... take these." Old Huang was somewhat embarrassed. "They're nothing fancy, but make do with them. Going so far away, you need good shoes on the road."

Tan Shuangxi took the sandals. These were Old Huang's hand-woven straw shoes. They had quite a reputation in the village — soft on the feet, no chafing, durable enough that a single pair could last a year or two. He would sell them at the market in Maniao Town. It was on this craft, along with his woven baskets, that he barely supported his precarious household.

The soles were coiled from rope made of coconut husk fiber, thick and hard-wearing. The uppers were made of bamboo hemp that had been carefully pounded soft, free of splinters, with a neat band of cloth stitched around the opening. Thinking of Old Huang's calloused, deformed-jointed hands, Tan Shuangxi could only imagine how much time and labor had gone into making these shoes.

"Old Huang, these shoes aren't easy to make — you should save them for market day..." Mother came out of the kitchen, saw the shoes, and felt terrible accepting them.

"Make them, make them I can!" Old Huang straightened his stooped back. "Shuangxi's been good to me, I remember. This is all I have to give — you've got to take them."

At that, Tan Shuangxi had no choice but to accept. Mother urged him to stay for the feast, but Old Huang shook his head. "I've got to get back and cook for my grandson."

Mother hurried into the room and came out shortly with a small box of "military ration toffee" that Tan Shuangxi had brought back on leave, pressing it into Old Huang's hands. "This is candy Shuangxi brought back from the army — take it for the child. Don't refuse!"

Old Huang murmured his thanks, accepted the candy, bowed, and turned to leave. Mother sighed softly. "It's rare for him to have such a heart! Heavens, may the Lord watch over his family and keep them safe..."

...

The sky grew darker. Mother and his brother brought out the dishes one by one. The braised pork glistened with oil, the whole fish steamed tender, the salted fish and meat patty fragrant, and there were several vegetable dishes and a basin of fish soup. The tables were laden to the brim.

"Sit, everyone, sit!" Father called out, ushering everyone to their seats.

Tan Shuangxi was about to sit down when soft footsteps sounded at the gate. He turned and saw a young girl leading a boy of about ten into the yard — it was Hou Baihua, Shuangqing's betrothed. She was seventeen this year, pretty and gentle-natured. Her engagement to Shuangqing had been arranged last year, and they had originally planned to hold the wedding this autumn. Now that Shuangxi was heading to Jeju Island, their parents had decided to wait until he finished his training and came back, then hold both celebrations together for a proper festivity.

Baihua had clearly taken special care with her appearance today. She wore a half-new jacket patterned with small pale-red flowers, her glossy black hair done in two braided pigtails tied with red ribbon bows. She carried a small bamboo basket, and upon seeing the yard full of people, her face flushed crimson and she stood timidly at the entrance.

"Baihua's here!" Mother rushed over to take her hand. "Come in, come in — we've been waiting for you." She noticed the boy beside her. "Is that little Cheng? You've grown taller again!"

Baihua handed the basket to Mother, her voice thin and soft. "Auntie, my mother and I made some pastries to congratulate Brother Shuangxi."

Mother opened it and found the basket neatly packed with tangerine-red cakes and sugar cakes, each one carefully wrapped in reed leaves. "My goodness, how much trouble this must have been! Baihua, you're so clever with your hands!"

Baihua's face flamed red. She nudged her brother gently. "Xiao Cheng, say hello to Auntie."

The boy was quick-witted and piped up crisply, "Hello, Auntie!" But his eyes kept darting toward the plate of fried peanuts that had just been set on the table.

The yard was full of familiar faces, and someone seized the moment to tease: "Hey, the little brother-in-law's arrived!"

"Shuangqing, hurry up and look after your brother-in-law!"

"Little brother-in-law, when your brother-in-law becomes an official, he'd better look out for you!"

The moment the title "brother-in-law" was uttered, the whole yard erupted in laughter. Xiao Cheng looked bewildered, glancing up at his sister. Baihua was blushing all the way to her neck, head lowered, wishing the ground would swallow her up. Brother Tan Shuangqing, meanwhile, was grinning like a fool, scratching his head, wanting to go over but feeling too bashful.

Tan Shuangxi watched this scene, finding it both amusing and heartwarming. He walked over, grabbed a handful of peanuts from the table, and pressed them into the boy's hand. "Xiao Cheng, have some peanuts."

The boy's eyes lit up. He took the peanuts, crunching them noisily, and instantly forgot his earlier embarrassment.

Mother led Baihua toward the women's table, calling to the boy, "Xiao Cheng, come here to Auntie — there's good food!"

With peanuts in hand and the promise of good food, Xiao Cheng forgot his shyness entirely and toddled off after Mother. Baihua was pressed into a seat, surrounded by aunties and older women who peppered her with questions. She answered softly, face flushed, sneaking the occasional glance toward Tan Shuangqing.

"Come now — the first round!" Father stood up and raised his coarse ceramic bowl, filled with fruit wine from the cooperative — clear and bright, giving off a sweet-tart aroma. "I won't say much more today! Thank you all for your kindness over the years. I offer this cup to everyone."

They all stood, bowls clinking together. Caiwang spilled some of his wine and quickly dabbed at it with his sleeve, muttering, "What a shame, what a shame."

Old Chen drained half his bowl in one go, then savored it briefly, as if appraising the quality of the wine. Once the well-wishes had largely subsided, he said in a measured tone, "Shuangxi, my boy, you've leaped clear out of the pond." He sighed, whether in envy or reflection. "Back in the day, you were just a scrawny little native brat, dark as a monkey. Now you've become a man. It all comes down to the Senate's cultivation..."

Hearing the words "the Senate," Tan Shuangxi quickly stood up. "It's all thanks to the Senate's grace and the Chiefs' guidance..."

"There, there." Old Chen laughed. "Don't get so worked up. I can see you're a good lad — you've never forgotten your roots. Just don't forget the folks from your village when you become a big official."

"Of course not!" Tan Shuangxi replied with a smile.

Hou Baihua hadn't spoken much, just listening quietly. Mother kept putting food on her plate, and she ate in small bites, occasionally looking up at Tan Shuangqing before quickly lowering her eyes again. Shuangqing, for his part, was at ease, frequently placing pieces of meat or fish on her plate. She accepted them with a red face, eating slowly. Her brother, by contrast, gorged himself and before long announced he couldn't eat another bite.

Caiwang sat at the outermost seat, drinking in silence, rarely touching his chopsticks. Old Chen placed a piece of meat in his bowl. "Caiwang, eat! You're young — don't go around with a long face all the time."

Caiwang gave an "mm" and stuffed the meat in his mouth, chewing rapidly, as if completing an assignment.

After three rounds of wine, tongues loosened, and the yard filled with laughter and chatter.

Tan Shuangxi listened and smiled, but the thought of leaving pressed down on him. This departure would mean half a year at least, perhaps a full year. Who knew what things would look like when he returned.

The rural feast continued until nearly nine in the evening, when the haunting notes of taps drifted from the Maniao barracks, and the gathering gradually dispersed.

The Tan father and sons saw guests off at the gate. When they returned after the last of them had gone, Mother and Baihua were clearing the dishes and chopsticks. Xiao Cheng had fallen asleep at the table, still clutching the remains of a half-eaten chicken drumstick. Baihua was quick and capable — washing bowls, wiping tables, without the slightest hesitation. Mother watched her with eyes full of satisfaction.

"Baihua, don't busy yourself anymore — it's getting late, and the road is dark. You should head home." Mother called Shuangqing over. "Light a lantern and see Baihua and her brother home — make sure you walk them to their door and don't leave until you see someone from their family."

"I know!" Shuangqing said, and went to get things ready.

Watching them fade into the distance, Tan Shuangxi returned to his room and looked at the pile of gifts on the table... too many feelings pressed against his ribs for any one of them to name.

"A scrawny little native brat, dark as a monkey — now a man."

The memory of when he used to tend Old Chen's cattle now felt like a long, lingering dream.

He extinguished the kerosene lamp and lay down on the bed. Outside the window, the sea breeze blew softly, and from the salt fields came the faint, distant murmur of the tide.

(End of chapter)