Chapter 37: Even the Place to Bury Me Is Already Decided

Dacai also looked utterly despairing.

He leaned silently against Lin Zhao’s arms, tears falling like golden beads, sniffling.

“I wanted to earn money to buy Mama a pretty dress, but now I won’t get the chance—I’ll never grow tall enough to reach the counter.”

The little boy looked pleadingly at his mother, voice trembling with sorrow: “Mama, when I die, can you bury me in our yard? I want to watch over you forever…”

In such a short time, he’d already decided exactly where he wanted to be buried.

Hearing his brother say that, Ercai’s eyes dimmed completely, and a sad snot bubble blew from his nostril.

But afraid of waking the Long Fengtai, who slept with their tiny bellies rising and falling, the two elder boys lowered their voices, crying softly yet heartbreakingly.

Lin Zhao was stunned by the children’s wild thoughts; when she came to her senses, she saw both sons slumped, silent tears streaming down their faces like wilted eggplants.

She pinched Dacai’s tiny mouth and spat several times, “Who said you two are going to die? Spit, spit, spit!”

Dacai blinked his watery eyes, moved his lips—but his mouth was pinched shut, so he couldn’t spit.

“Spit, spit, spit!” Ercai mimicked his mother, spitting three times; his red-rimmed eyes brightened slightly as he leaned close to Lin Zhao, excitedly asking: “Mama, my brother and I won’t die?”

Five-year-olds had no real concept of death; to them, it meant you couldn’t run or jump, couldn’t eat, and had to be buried in a little mound of dirt—nowhere to go… to them, this was terrifying beyond measure.

Dacai held his breath, staring intently at his mother, face tense.

“It’s just worms—take them out and you’re fine. What talk of dying?” Lin Zhao wiped the tears from both boys’ cheeks, then added with lingering concern: “If you feel unwell tonight, tell Mama right away.”

Ercai beamed, grabbing his brother’s hand: “Brother, we won’t die—we’ll live to be a hundred!”

Hearing the good news, Dacai was thrilled too; he noticed the damp stains on his mother’s dress—his and Ercai’s tears.

Only now did the little boy realize how embarrassed he was; he avoided her gaze and, while Lin Zhao wasn’t looking, used his small hand to wipe the wet marks from her shoulder—only to find the stains still there, his expression going slack.

Sensing Lin Zhao’s gaze, he nervously said: “Mama, your dress is dirty—I’ll wash it for you tomorrow.”

“It’s fine,” Lin Zhao said kindly. “Just wash it and it’ll be clean. I’ll do it myself when I get back.”

She patted both boys’ heads. “Go wash up. Time for bed.”

“Okay.” The two children held hands and left the room.

Lin Zhao sat at the desk, pulled out a hardcover notebook, twisted open the pen cap, and began writing.

{June 27, sunny turning cloudy

Today I got a few pagoda candies and gave them to my eldest and second sons. When they heard they were deworming medicine, they were terrified and burst into loud sobs, saying the most adorable childish things:

Ercai: I don’t want to die… who in the world has a five-year-old child who’s going to die?…

Dacai: …No chance now—I’ll never grow tall enough to reach the counter.

Five-year-olds are so adorable, especially the little ones of Comrade Gu and Comrade Lin!}

After writing, she sketched the scene with just a few quick strokes.

Ercai blowing a snot bubble, Dacai looking hollow-eyed, the Long Fengtai sleeping soundly, even the kerosene lamp on the table had its place.

After washing their faces, Dacai and Ercai came in and saw their mother sitting at the desk, head bowed, writing—

Her left arm propped her chin, her right hand idly scribbling, lips curved in a smile, her profile bathed in the dim yellow light, gentle and lovely.

The two boys walked over and stood on either side of Lin Zhao, tiptoeing, stretching their arms onto the desk, leaning forward to peek.

“Mama, are you writing another letter to Dad?” Ercai asked, his big eyes wide with curiosity.

His eyelids were still slightly red, his long, curled lashes damp; when he looked intently, he seemed pure and innocent.

“No,” Lin Zhao smiled faintly. “I’m recording your growth. When your father comes back, I’ll let him see it—so Comrade Gu knows exactly how you two grew up.”

Dacai asked: “Mama, can I look?”

“Of course.” Lin Zhao handed him the notebook and went out to wash up.

Ercai dashed over to his brother’s side, pressing his head against Dacai’s to look together.

They didn’t know many characters, but they could understand drawings.

“Brother, that’s me!” Ercai pointed at a little figure in the drawing, excitedly saying, “I blew a snot bubble hahaha—Mama drew it so well!”

Dacai nodded in agreement. “Mama is really amazing.”

Inspired, he straightened his face, solemnly declaring: “I want to be as amazing as Mama.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Dacai glanced once more, then carefully closed the notebook and placed it on the desk.

“Gurgle…” Ercai’s stomach growled.

He looked down at his belly and said: “Brother, there are worms fighting in my stomach.”

Dacai comforted him: “Don’t be afraid. Mama said these are deworming candies. When the worms are dead, we’ll poop them out tomorrow morning.”

“I’m not scared—I’ve even fought snakes! I’m not afraid of tiny worms.” He said proudly.

Lin Zhao heard this perfectly.

“Hmm?” She didn’t speak, but uttered a tone that was dangerously sharp: “You fought snakes?”

Lin Zhao frowned tightly.

What should she do—beat the kid?

Ercai sensed his mother’s mood had turned sour; he stood rigidly, even his short hair stubble radiating obedience.

“No, Mama, you misunderstood—I meant… I said I fought my tongue.”

He stuck out his tongue and pointed at it. “This tongue.”

“Whoever talks nonsense about our family, I’ll hit their tongue with my slingshot!”

Lin Zhao: “….”

She gave Ercai an exasperated look. “Just keep making things up.”

She tapped his forehead with her finger, her expression stern: “Some snakes are deadly poisonous—one bite and you’re dead. Stay far away from them!”

“Dacai, keep an eye on your brother.”

Raising sons was endless worry.

“Mm.”

That night, Lin Zhao woke several times, each time checking the foreheads of Dacai and Ercai—no fever, no other symptoms—only then did she relax.

Before long, morning came.

Lin Zhao rose early, packing the items she’d take to her uncle’s house.

A bag of noodles, twenty eggs, two jin of pork, two apples, one cured sausage.

An overweight gift.

But compared to what her uncle had once done for her, it meant nothing.

Lin Zhao packed everything into a net bag, then prepared the children’s lunch: one apple, a jar of peach syrup, a handful of shrimp-flavored sugar candies, some white flour, and a small piece of pork.

This was more than enough for the children to eat two meals, even with leftovers.

After all, some families couldn’t even afford full meals, let alone breakfast.

After finishing, Lin Zhao grabbed the items and stepped out, with Dahuang following behind.

“Watch the house well.”

Dahuang lifted his head and barked at her.

Lin Zhao smiled, her steps light as she walked toward the county town.

At the Supply and Marketing Cooperative, she placed an order for a ladies’ bicycle and was told it would arrive in two days.

She then bought a wristwatch and put it on immediately.

Li Fen watched Lin Zhao pay so casually with cash and coupons, her mind brimming with suspicion—wasn’t this girl from the countryside? Why didn’t she care about spending?

She praised: “Your skin is so fair—you look beautiful wearing a watch.”

Wang Ju nodded quietly: “Beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Lin Zhao thought so too; she kept glancing at it, delight swelling inside her.

Soon, the cooperative filled with people, and the clerks became busy.

Fengshou Team.

Dacai and Ercai woke and rushed straight to the outhouse.

“Brother, I’m going first—I’m about to poop my pants!” Ercai clamped his legs together.

Seeing this, Dacai hurried to the neighbor’s.

“Auntie, can I use your outhouse?” Dacai clutched a few sheets of toilet paper, clutching his stomach, face flushed red with urgency.

Wang Chunhua hurriedly said: “Go ahead, go ahead—the outhouse is empty.”

Dacai didn’t even have time to thank her—he bolted for the outhouse.

The Wang family’s outhouse was crude: a T-shaped structure with two planks laid across, the pit crawling with wriggling things, reeking terribly.

Dacai’s hair stood on end.

Too desperate, he quickly pulled down his pants and squatted—pfft—he let go.

He looked down and saw the worms mixed in—revolting and terrifying.

The little person inside his mind screamed: AAAAAAHHHH!

He dared not look again, kept going.

When his stomach emptied, he overcame his fear, used all the toilet paper, pulled up his pants, and stepped out.

Just then, Ercai burst into the Wangs’ gate, shouting: “Brother, I pooped out so many worms—did you?”

Dacai’s face went blank. “…I did.”

“Mama was right!” Ercai clapped his hands, voice thrilled. “Pooping them out means we don’t have worms anymore, right?”

“Right!” Dacai nodded firmly, staring seriously at Ercai. “Ercai, from now on, we can’t drink cold water—we must drink boiled water.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Wang Chunhua overheard the two children’s conversation.

“Dacai, Ercai, what are you talking about? What kind of worm?”

Dacai replied, “My mom gave my brother and me a sweet candy yesterday. She said it kills worms in kids’ bellies. Both of us pooped out worms.”

Wang Chunhua’s grandson, Wang Dazhuang, stared blankly, clutching his face in horror. “Dacai, Ercai, you’ve got worms in your bellies?”

“Why would anyone have worms in their belly?” Dazhuang looked utterly confused. “Won’t you die if you have worms in your belly? Why aren’t you two little mounds of dirt yet?”

Ercai nearly blurted out, “You’re the one who’ll turn into a little mound of dirt,” but his brother pulled him back.

Dacai explained calmly, “My mom says if you drink cold water often, worms grow in your belly—roundworms. You won’t die, but you’ll get stomachaches and diarrhea. Eating the candy pushes the worms out. My brother and I pooped them all out. Now our bellies are clean.”

Dazhuang remembered he always drank cold water. His eyes widened in terror, his face as if the sky had fallen.

“Nai, do I have worms too!?” he asked fearfully.

Wang Chunhua hurriedly asked Dacai, “Dacai, can candy really kill worms? Where did your mom get this candy?”

“I don’t know. Probably bought it in town,” Dacai guessed.

After speaking, he took Erzai back home with him.

Wang Chunhua rushed to the outhouse and, in the fresh pile, indeed saw some worms.

They really came out!!

She was astonished.

Seeing her grandson dejected, Wang Chunhua said, “Don’t worry. When Dacai’s mom comes back, I’ll go ask her about it.”

Gu Mu saw the two boys returning from next door, her eyes puzzled. “What were you two doing next door?”

“I went to borrow the outhouse.”

Hearing Dacai’s words, Gu Mu grew even more confused.

What, can’t your little butt fit in your own outhouse?

Ercai, talkative as ever, blabbed to his nai about how he and his brother had pooped out worms.

Gu Mu gasped. “You pooped out worms?”

“Yeah. If you don’t believe me, I’ll take you to see.” Ercai had no concept of embarrassment or shame. He tugged his nai to see his five-grain-revolving excrement.

Gu Mu didn’t mind. She actually went to look.

“You say your mom gave you candy, and then you pooped out worms?”

Ercai nodded. “Yeah.”

He licked his lips. “That candy was pretty tasty.”

He sighed softly. “But each kid only gets one.”

Gu Mu: “...” You want to eat it every day and poop worms every day?

“Does your mom still have any of that candy?”

Dacai answered, “I don’t know.”

“Fine. I’ll ask your mom when she gets off work,” Gu Mu said.

Thinking of the twins, she hurried into the house. The third and fourth kids were awake, their little heads pressed together, staring silently at the ceiling, very well-behaved.

“You’re awake?”

Hearing the familiar voice, the two little doughballs rolled over and sat up, cooing, “Nai!”

Those two calls softened Gu Mu’s heart.

“Aiyi!”

She dressed the little grandson and granddaughter, then took them out to wash their faces.

Ercai came out holding a can of yellow peach. “Nai, help me open the lid. I want to eat the can.”

“Canned fruit for breakfast?” Remembering the two boys had just pooped out worms, Gu Mu worried the can was too cold. She negotiated with them. “Eat it at noon. Have something warm this morning—you just got rid of worms.”

Dacai was easygoing. “Alright.”

“Some plain congee?” Gu Mu asked.

“Fine,” Dacai said.

Ercai asked, “Nai, can we eat an apple after the congee?”

“Your mom bought you apples too?” Gu Mu thought her third daughter-in-law spoiled the kids too much—but better than before, when she ignored everything. She had no objection.

“Yeah. Really red apples. Can we eat them?” Ercai pressed.

“Of course,” Gu Mu said.

“Nai, cut them in half for us later. My brother and I each want one half,” Ercai demanded without hesitation.

Dacai came out of the house holding a can of formula, planning to prepare milk for the twins. Hearing Ercai’s words, he looked at Gu Mu and said, “Nai, I’ll share half my apple with you.”

Gu Mu would never argue with her grandson over food, but that didn’t stop her heart from warming. She patted Dacai’s round head with affection. “Nai won’t eat. You eat.”

Time flew when she was busy at work. After lunch, it was suddenly time to clock out.

Ignoring Liu Chunhong’s glaring eyes, Lin Zhao left on time, not staying a single minute longer.

As for her colleagues’ gossip behind her back, she paid it no mind.

As always: as long as it didn’t come to her face, she could pretend she didn’t know.

As yesterday, she first went to the post office to mail a letter.

“Comrade Lin, you bought a watch? So pretty,” Liang Yi praised.

The ordinary watch looked stunning on Lin Zhao’s wrist—so beautiful that Liang Yi wanted to buy the same brand.

Lin Zhao smiled lightly. “Thank you.”

After a few more words, she left the post office and headed to the Textile Factory’s staff housing complex.

Song Uncle joined the factory at twenty and worked there for over thirty years. He was long ago assigned housing—a house allocated early, so compared to others, it was quite spacious: a fifty-square-meter two-bedroom unit.

At this moment, Song Auntie was home. She worked the night shift and had just woken up.

She heard a knock and thought it was Old Song returning.

“Yuncheng, open the door.”

Song Yuncheng sighed and got up to open it.

He froze.