Chapter 495: Going Home

The twelfth month of the seventh year of Chongzhen arrived swiftly. The autumn offensive that Dengzhou Garrison had launched in the eighth month also came to a complete end. Both sides had suffered losses. The Jianzhou Bandits' scouts reconnoitered the Fuzhou area and discovered that Fuzhou's defensive works were solid, its cavalry and infantry together exceeded five thousand men, and grain was being continuously transported in.

The Later Jin forces massed at Gaizhou numbered roughly seven thousand true Jurchens and Mongols. The one hundred seventy li between Yulinpu and Gaizhou was entirely a no-man's-land.

Although Huang Taiji very much wished to dispatch troops to besiege Fuzhou, the widespread reduction in the autumn grain harvest left every banner in extreme hardship. Many true Jurchen households had no grain to last the night; as soon as the harvest was collected, they would have to borrow at usurious rates to buy food. Given the Later Jin army's practice of each soldier providing his own provisions, every banner was bound to push back. Moreover, there was nothing at all to plunder in that Liaonan region — the lesson of Lushun was still vivid in their minds. Transporting grain in winter was exceedingly difficult, and most of the Later Jin nobility were unwilling to cross a hundred seventy li of no-man's-land to attack that stoutly fortified Fuzhou city. Huang Taiji took a portion of the autumn grain he had collected for the public treasury and allocated it to those Han troops, who were currently undergoing training in Shenyang.

And so both sides fell silent, each lowering its banners and stilling its drums. Liaonan quieted down. Each side made its own preparations, husbanding its strength for the coming year's contest.

Dengzhou, meanwhile, was entirely peaceful. The combat troops began taking leave in batches. All who had served for one year or more were granted a one-month furlough. The cigarette factory in Wendeng, the Wendeng No. 1 Factory, and the Pingdu No. 2 Factory also went on holiday; only the cotton cloth factory continued production.

As the highest-earning group in Dengzhou Garrison, the combat soldiers and factory workers all began to set out on the road home. Streams of moving people appeared throughout Dengzhou. Every cart and horse agency along the official highways worked overtime to earn money. These people all bought quite a few things along the way — cheap dried fish from the coast, corn harvested in the mountain-adjacent fortified villages, cotton cloth produced in Dengzhou, as well as cigarettes, ready-made clothes, liquor, cured meat, and so on. Although there were tax posts along the route, merchants still shipped goods from Laizhou and Dengzhou, and signs of economic vitality appeared everywhere in Dengzhou.

The Jinwei Second Battalion stationed at Jiaozhou also received its furlough notice. They had only recently been converted to combat troops and had not even finished the first major training syllabus for combat soldiers. Zhong Lao Si had not wanted to grant leave, but the orders from the Military Affairs Bureau and the Indoctrination Bureau were strict: no commanding officer was permitted to compel combat soldiers to forgo it. So Zhong Lao Si was forced by circumstance to relent. Most non-commissioned officers and junior officers applied. Because Tang Wei had two years of military service with the propaganda team, he also received a one-month furlough. His home was very close. His unit, the Jinwei Second Company Command, was stationed right in Jiaozhou, only a little over a hundred li from Aoshan Guard. Xie Fei also planned to make a trip back to Huangxian; his journey was far longer.

On the twentieth day of the twelfth month, the two men said their farewells at the camp gate and each set out on the road home.

On the twenty-third day of the twelfth month in the seventh year of Chongzhen, in Erdaogou Village, Aoshan Guard, Laizhou Prefecture, Shandong Garrison, the Jiaodong Peninsula had already entered deep winter. The bitter cold of the Little Ice Age showed no sign of abating. The north wind howled through every lane and alley of Erdaogou Village in Aoshan Guard, seeming even colder than the year before. Few pedestrians were on the roads; when they chanced to meet, they merely nodded, too hurried by the cold to exchange pleasantries. Yet at that moment, two figures still stood at the village entrance.

"I've never in my life known cold like this. Old Lord Heaven, just what are you doing? If you hadn't sent us a Commander Chen, I'd be cursing you so hard today you wouldn't get a wink of sleep." Tang Dongshi stood at the village entrance, loudly complaining about the weather and casually threatening Old Lord Heaven. She had already been waiting at the village entrance for her only son, Tang Wei, for nearly a full two-hour watch.

She had once run a small grain shop in Erdaogou Village, earning a little over ten taels of silver a year. Later, when the Wendeng Battalion took control of Dengzhou and began developing general stores in areas outside the fortified villages — which only families with someone serving in the military could apply for — Tang Dongshi sent her only son, Tang Wei, off to join up. The Tang family smoothly obtained a general store, selling salt, cotton cloth, grain, and other supplies to the surrounding villages. They now earned three to five taels of silver a month, a considerable increase over their previous income.

Tang Wei had been in the army for over two years and had not come home once. At first, people thought he was a combat soldier, and the neighbors all envied him. Later, someone from the same village who returned said that Tang Wei had become a "show Tatar" in a theatrical troupe, which so angered Tang Dongshi that she went two days without eating. Rural folk looked down on actors, and many who had come to propose marriage matches left. Tang Dongshi made a trip to Pingdu Department, intending to bring Tang Wei back, but she could not find him. She heard he was performing everywhere, and no one knew where he had gone. Finally, she received a letter from Tang Wei saying he had gone to Henan to suppress bandits and had only recently returned to Pingdu Department. But business at the grain shop was very good just before the Spring Festival, so Tang Dongshi was loath to leave.

Ten days ago, a letter from Tang Wei arrived saying he would have family-visit leave this month and would reach home by the twenty-fifth of the twelfth month. From the moment she received the letter, she had bustled about making preparations — readying fine flour, buying three jin of pork from Butcher Zhang's, and engaging several matchmakers from her own village and the surrounding fortified villages. This time, she was determined to find a wife for this youngest son of hers.

Tang Wei's father sat slumped on a stone slab opposite her, his head bowed. Now and then he took a few puffs of his smoke, his eyes staring blankly at the ground. Tang Dongshi paid him no mind. The old man had never in his life been able to squeeze out a fart even if you hit him with three clubs. Consulting him about anything was useless; you could ask till you died and he would not say a word. All matters great and small in the household depended on her to arrange. She had managed, with some difficulty, to marry off all the daughters to decent families. Their days, at least, were passable — in times like these, that was contentment enough. Now it was this youngest son who had become her vexation. He had been a soldier for several years, come home twice, and matchmakers had approached several families, but none had worked out. This time, if he did not settle on a good wife, she would not let him return to the army.

"Old man, when Gou'er gets back this time, you'd better put on the airs of a proper head of the household. Finding a wife and having children — these are things a son must obey his parents in. Where's the sense in him making his own decisions? Going off to act and becoming a show Tatar was bad enough to begin with. Last time he even said he wanted to find an actress for a wife. If you don't keep him in line, don't expect to get any money for tobacco leaves next month." Bored from waiting, Tang Dongshi, though well aware the old man was useless, kept on nagging him anyway.

Old Man Tang lowered his head, took a drag of smoke, and drew it deep into his lungs. Then he raised his head, glanced at the old woman, and seemed about to speak. His mouth opened a little, but no words came out. He lowered his head again and stared at the ground.

Seeing this, Tang Dongshi shook her head and sighed. "If I die one of these days, it'll surely be from sheer aggravation because of you and that Gou'er. From the very night I married you and entered the bridal chamber, you've never had a mind of your own. I had to teach you what to do, never mind that I was a maiden girl who hadn't even..."

Old Man Tang suddenly raised his head. "He's here!"

"What's here?"

"A horse cart."

"Really? Where? How come I don't hear any bells?" Tang Dongshi hurried out onto the main road beyond the village. In the howling north wind, the faint sound of bells drifted from afar.

"My Gou'er!" Tang Dongshi strode off as if flying. By the time Old Man Tang emerged from the village entrance, all he saw was a sturdy figure racing off into the distance in the direction from which the passenger cart was coming, vanishing in a cloud of dust...

After night fell, Erdaogou Village fell almost completely still. When there was nothing in particular going on, the villagers all went to bed early. The occasional barking of dogs showed that the village watchmen were at least doing their duty.

The Old Tang house was brightly lit. Tang Dongshi had broken precedent and lit two oil lamps — one borrowed from the Third Aunt next door, though she had to supply the oil herself. Beneath the lamplight, freshly boiled dumplings steamed. Tang Wei ate the dumplings in huge mouthfuls, his plump cheeks bulging. Tang Dongshi, by the lamplight, gazed smilingly at her only son, the wrinkles on her face seeming to reflect a joyful glow.

"Gou'er, you're back, and that's enough — why did you have to buy all those things? That fox-fur scarf must have been so expensive. Don't you know to save a little for yourself to use when you take a wife?" Tang Dongshi fondly stroked the fox-fur scarf on her shoulders, then said to Tang Wei, "Gou'er, eat more. All that time you were in Dengzhou Garrison, did you ever get enough to eat?"

Tang Wei raised his head, his mouth pursed, and grinned at his mother. "Ma, Pa, in the army we have meat to eat every day. You two have some dumplings too."

Tang Dongshi waved her hands repeatedly. "I won't eat any. I had some yesterday. Your pa won't eat any either. He only likes to smoke, not eat meat." Without so much as a glance at Old Man Tang, she made the decision for him.

Old Man Tang still sat expressionless. He exhaled a puff of smoke; the shreds of tobacco at the end of his pipe glowed bright, then dim.

"Mm, so many... I can't... finish them all," Tang Wei said, his head buried as he ate.

Tang Dongshi beamed. "Gou'er, I've got it all planned out for this visit home. You've got over twenty days' leave, right? Tomorrow we'll go to Third Aunt's house. She'll take us to see Butcher Zhang. Your Third Aunt has already matched up several couples in the village — two of them are from your army, and their family property is nowhere near ours. So why should my Gou'er be later than them? This time, Third Aunt has proposed the Zhang the Butcher's family from the east end of the village. The pigs he slaughters are sold to five or six villages around here. In a year, he must bring in no less than ten or twenty taels..."

"Thirty taels," Old Man Tang suddenly interjected, then lowered his head and resumed smoking.

Tang Dongshi continued to Tang Wei, "Did you hear that? Thirty taels. Not that we covet his bit of silver — Gou'er's betrothal gifts have long been properly prepared. Tomorrow we'll go to Butcher Zhang's house to propose. If it doesn't work out, the day after we'll go to Shisanbao. Even if Shisanbao folk are refugee outsiders, we know Matchmaker Fu too. She says the Chen family's second daughter is hardworking, big-handed and big-footed, with big hips too, and the betrothal gift can be smaller..."

"Ma, I don't want to take a wife yet."

"What?! Not take a wife?!!!" Tang Dongshi erupted in fury and sprang to her feet. The flames of the two lamps flickered wildly, and the shadows around them swayed in a great commotion, as if the entire house had been startled by Tang Dongshi's rage. Tang Wei shrank his neck. Only Old Man Tang retained his eternally unchanging expression.

Tang Dongshi's face was full of anxiety. "If you don't settle down with a wife, what will you do? Son, you're already twenty! Your second aunt's eldest already has two children. Every time your second aunt comes, she puts on airs — if it's not about this grandchild, it's about that grandchild. What's she doing? She's deliberately making your mother look bad! We should have found you a wife the year before last. You never should have gone to be some actor, playing that blasted Huang Taili..."

"It's not Huang Taili. A taili is for checking the date. I played Huang Taiji, the Jianzhou Bandits'..."

Tang Dongshi cut him off without hesitation. "I don't care what kind of Taili it is. Several of the village boys in the army came back and said you played a Tatar. The families we'd been talking to all backed out. Before, they were the ones rushing to our door to propose! In all these villages for ten li around, how many families have as solid a foundation as ours? You are not allowed to go act in that Taili anymore."

Tang Wei popped a dumpling into his mouth and, through the mouthful, mumbled indistinctly, "It's only because you fed me so fat. The officers say I'm the fattest in the whole army, the one who looks most like the Tatar emperor. Besides, it's not called being a Tatar, it's being an actor. The officers say performing well is also fighting. And anyway, I'm not acting in it anymore now."

"Always 'the officers, the officers.' Can you eat 'officers' for a meal? Always thinking about soldiering. If you get yourself killed in battle, who's going to see your old mother to her grave? This time you'll listen to your mother. You'll go meet whoever I tell you to meet. If that officer of yours dares to jabber again, I'll go to your barracks and curse him till he's afraid to show his face. Anyway, this time, if you don't take a wife, you're not leaving." Tang Dongshi ended her tirade in a huff, turned, and went into the inner room.

Old Man Tang tapped his pipe stem against the edge of the table, then said to Tang Wei, "Gou'er, hurry up and eat. Finish and go to bed early." He too rose and went into the inner room.

Tang Wei watched his father go in, let out a low sigh, then turned back and saw the dumplings on the table. His eyes lit up, and he buried his head and began chewing with gusto once more. (To be continued...)

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