A Loving Father and a Stern Son

"Your parents are back, and so is Chang'an!" Fang Dianqiu, who hadn't been playing but was watching from the side, was the first to see them and called out to Fang Changming and Fang Yanran.

"Big Brother!" Fang Yanran looked over as soon as she heard, then ran up to greet them.

Chang'an smiled. "Slow down, slow down."

"Big Brother!" Fang Changming also called out. "Want to come play with us?"

"Why are you still playing? It's already dark. Time to eat, you can play tomorrow," Fang Lujun said.

"Qiuqiu! Dinner's ready!" Fang Dianqiu's father, Fang Changfeng, called loudly at the door, walking over from his house. He was tall and broad-shouldered, well over six feet, with a booming voice that carried from afar as he greeted them warmly: "Uncle Jun, Auntie, you're back? Chang'an's home too?"

Fang Lujun barely had time to nod, and before Chang'an could say anything, Fang Changfeng was already shouting, "I heard from Qiuqiu you got first place in the whole school, and you're the class monitor too? That's amazing!"

Chang'an replied shyly, "It was just a placement test, nothing important."

"Still, first in the whole school!" Fang Changfeng boomed, as if afraid others might not hear, then added, "Uncle Jun, Auntie, you should make something special tonight! First place in the whole Second Middle School—you've got to celebrate!"

"Of course!" Fang Lujun nodded with a smile, exchanging pleasantries as they walked into their house. He turned to Congrong, "Wash your hands and start cooking, Changming, get the stove ready."

Changming pouted, "What about you?"

"I'm feeding the pigs!" Fang Lujun replied, a little exasperated. "Or do you want to feed them and I'll do the fire?"

"I'll do the fire, then." Changming quickly changed his mind. Feeding pigs meant hauling big buckets of feed, which he knew he couldn't manage. Then he asked, "What about Big Brother?"

"Your brother just got home, let him rest first."

Changming was clearly displeased. He'd been happy to see his brother, but being ordered about by his parents left him feeling unbalanced.

Fang Lujun ignored him and went off to the west room to mix the pig feed.

Congrong washed her hands, tidied up, and looked over the vegetables. She spoke gently, "Changming, you go. Your brother's been working in the fields all day."

Changming glanced at Chang'an, still a little unconvinced.

Chang'an paid him no mind, sat on the sofa, opened his backpack, and took out two bottles of Wahaha, two cartons of milk, some tangerines, and a handful of snacks: milk tablets, monk meat jerky, gold coin chocolates, and more.

Yanran and Changming's eyes lit up at once.

Chang'an handed his sister a bottle of Wahaha, then waved another in Changming's direction. "Want one?"

"Yes!" Changming nodded eagerly.

Chang'an tossed it to him, then placed the rest of the snacks on the dining table. "Help yourselves."

He took a gold coin chocolate, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mother's mouth. He took another and found his father, who protested, "I don't want it! I don't want...I..." but Chang'an stuffed it in anyway.

"Did you buy these?" Fang Lujun, though he usually thought buying snacks was a waste of money, didn't say so. In the past, Congrong might have commented, but knowing Chang'an had earned the money himself, she held her tongue. Lujun only asked.

"The tangerines are from my homeroom teacher, the milk from my deskmate, and the Wahaha from the classmate behind me."

Shen Mo always gave him a carton of milk each day; the extra two were from Cheng Mengfei. Chang'an kept two for himself; as for the Wahaha from Wang Ke, he'd already drunk those—the two bottles now were ones he bought himself, but there was no need to mention it.

With no fridge at home, their vegetables came from their own fields or were bought fresh at the market. Congrong put some porridge on the stove in the west room, heated up some steamed buns, then took two potatoes, two green peppers, and a handful of beans.

Changming, munching on snacks, sensibly headed to the kitchen, squatting by the stove to get the fire going.

Chang'an followed and, seeing his mother peeling potatoes, picked up the beans and squatted to trim them. Congrong glanced over at him, then quickly finished peeling the potatoes, set them on the board, and sliced them into thin strips, the knife making a crisp "chacha" sound.

"Ready to light the fire?" Changming asked from the stove.

"Go ahead."

The potatoes cooked quickly. Chang'an had wanted to help slice the beans, but realized even holding the knife felt awkward. He could pick it up, of course, he wasn't that weak, but to chop vegetables as neatly and swiftly as his mother was wishful thinking.

The beans took longer to cook. Congrong added water and let them boil. Fang Lujun finished feeding the pigs, came to check in, then went back to the house. After a while, he came out and asked, "Should I go make a cold dish?"

Congrong sighed. "Forget it."

Fang Lujun glanced at Chang'an, who smiled and said, "It's enough. Don't we have those pickled radish strips? I love those."

So Lujun said nothing more. He fished a piece of pickled radish from the brine jar, sliced it into thin strips, drizzled a little sesame oil, mixed it, and brought it to the table.

Dusk settled over the village. Under the warm, yellow light, the family gathered around the table: stir-fried beans, shredded potatoes, pickled radish strips. Lujun asked Yanran to bring over the fermented tofu he alone ate, took a steamed bun, spread some tofu on it, and took a big bite, smacking his lips contentedly.

No one spoke. Chang'an broke off half a steamed bun and ate his food with porridge.

Changming opened a pack of spicy strips his brother had brought, offering them around. When no one else took any, he and Yanran split them, stuffing them into their steamed buns and eating with relish.

After finishing a bun, Lujun suddenly recalled something. "Oh right, I ran into Ma Zude this evening. He never says hello, but today he did, and he was downright friendly."

Ma Family Ditch was a big village. Most Mas lived on the east side, while the Fangs, Lis, Chens, and other "miscellaneous" surnames lived on the west. They didn't interact much.

Ma Zude was the village Party secretary. He wasn't much in the grand scheme, but in Ma Family Ditch, he was a leading figure. He respected Chang'an's grandfather, Fang Fukang, but barely acknowledged Lujun and his brother. He was more likely to exchange words with Lusheng or Changfeng.

Congrong couldn't think of a reason, either. "It was just a greeting, what's the big deal?"

Lujun smacked his lips. "I just thought it odd. He always ignored me before."

Chang'an considered, then asked, "Dad, what does Ma Zude look like?"

Lujun, picking up some radish strips, asked, "Why do you want to know?" Then, "Eat your food!"

"I'm eating," Chang'an replied, putting some shredded potato in his bun. As he chewed, he continued, "A few days ago I went to my homeroom teacher's house for dinner and met someone who came to give her husband a gift, asking for a favor. My homeroom teacher's husband said the guy was named Ma, the Party secretary from our village."

He put on a thoughtful look and described the man. "Forty or fifty, kind of a long face, fairly tall, dark and skinny... Was that him?"

Lujun and Congrong exchanged a look. Congrong asked, "Does Ma Zude have a long face?"

"Seems so," Lujun nodded, then asked his son, "Why did you go to your homeroom teacher's house for dinner?"

"I'm the class monitor, so the teacher invited me over for a meal."

Lujun glanced at his wife, then asked, "What does your teacher's husband do that Ma Zude would bring him a gift?"

"I don't really know, but they seem well-off."

Chang'an was laying the groundwork, so his parents wouldn't be too surprised by anything they heard later, and so he could always shift the blame onto the teacher's husband if necessary.

Lujun nodded, then said to his wife, "Maybe he saw Chang'an at the teacher's house and that's why he greeted me."

Congrong shook her head. "Who knows."

Lujun thought for a moment, took a sip of porridge, and muttered, "Damn, am I going to have to rely on my son from now on?"

Congrong laughed. "You'll have plenty of opportunities to rely on your son in the future!"

Chang'an replied humbly, "Oh, no, no, that's just being filial!"

Yanran piped up, "Exactly! I'll be filial too, and so will Second Brother and Big Brother."

"Just eat," Congrong scolded her.

"Okay." The eight-year-old, scolded, pouted and went back to gnawing on her bun stuffed with spicy strips.

Lujun ate quickly. When Chang'an saw he was nearly done, he asked, "Dad, I heard from Mom that you want to go out to work?"

Lujun paused, glanced at his wife, thinking the matter wasn't even settled yet, why talk to the children about it?

Congrong looked at Chang'an, too, thinking this wasn't quite what she'd mentioned.

"It's not decided yet," Lujun said. "Just focus on your studies. Even if I do go, I'll be home for the New Year..."

"No, Dad, you've misunderstood," Chang'an explained. "It's not that I can't bear for you to go—I just wanted to ask when you'd leave. There are only a few months left before New Year's. If you're really going to work outside, it might be better to go sooner, so you can earn a bit more before coming home."