Chapter 71: It's Snowing, I'm Not Getting Up

The next day, Ming Dai and Zhou Sinian did not rise early to leave; instead, after breakfast, they greeted Aunt Huang and set off toward the nearby mountains. After chopping some firewood, they entered the space.

Last night, Ming Dai had penned the live lambs together, while the dead ones were all stored in the warehouse. Today, she needed to deal with them all. Most of the live animals were ewes and lambs. As before, Zhou Sinian and Ming Dai bathed them with rose-scented shower gel, then joined them with the previous flock. After giving them fresh, tender grass, the sheep quickly adapted, munching and basking in the sun.

Outside the villa, Ming Dai took the remaining seven slain sheep from the warehouse and placed them in the yard. Zhou Sinian hung them on the slaughtering rack, skillfully bleeding and skinning them. Ming Dai assisted, sorting and sealing the meat for storage; they didn't discard the blood and offal either. Last time, Zhou Sinian had been astonished by the sheep offal soup and, undeterred by the smell, processed all edible parts. Ming Dai returned the skins to the warehouse for tanning later.

She selected a large leg of mutton to marinate, looking forward to charcoal-roasting it when time allowed. The last roast was devoured clean with lingering appetite. Once everything was done, they took a hot shower, specifically reminding themselves not to use the rose-scented shower gel—too fragrant, and it could arouse suspicion.

Afterward, they brought firewood home, just in time for lunch. Ming Dai made extra dishes for dinner, so they could stay out until noon the next day. Aunt Huang, as always, said little, only reminding her to stay safe.

The others had even less to say; if not for Ming Dai, the educated youth, they wouldn’t enjoy such varied meals! Besides, she was gathering medicinal herbs. Aunt Huang said that next year, their village would have its own doctor!

For Liujiawan, the village farthest from the commune health clinic, this was vital. One aunt, wiping tears, recalled her youngest son who died of fever—if the doctor had come sooner, he might have survived.

Thus, everyone tacitly accepted the pair’s frequent trips into the mountains, even helping to dry the herbs Ming Dai brought back. Only the new educated youths had complaints, especially Liu Yan, who hinted repeatedly at reporting Ming Dai.

Without Aunt Huang’s intervention, others stepped in, rebuking Liu Yan until she sobbed loudly. Ming Dai reciprocated, brewing preventative medicinal soup for everyone each week.

As a result, during the reservoir construction, not a single person in Liujiawan caught cold or fever, while other villages had several downed by illness. Liujiawan’s workers grew ever more vigorous.

This only deepened their respect and gratitude for Ming Dai.

After lunch, Ming Dai and Zhou Sinian set out again, heading for the mountain they had visited yesterday. Ming Dai’s main target was still ginseng, but this time she activated her medicinal treasure-hunting ability, and along the way, she harvested many rare herbs.

Especially noteworthy were the polygonum and lingzhi, both precious and hard-to-find Chinese medicinal plants; Ming Dai discovered several spots.

Even more valuable, she found stumps with parasitic lingzhi, which she brought, stumps and all, into the space. The journey was fruitful, yet Zhou Sinian was less than pleased—none of these were edible, and their smell was unpleasant.

Seeing his lack of enthusiasm, Ming Dai asked what he wanted. Zhou Sinian blurted out, “Silly deer!” Ming Dai thought: Why are you so sensitive only to food?

So they selected a herd of silly deer in the mountains, planning to start a second livestock venture. True to their name, the deer were so simple-minded that Ming Dai didn’t even need to hide—she just followed behind. Even when she failed to catch up, the deer would turn around to look for her, their moist eyes seeming to ask: Why didn’t you keep up?

What could Ming Dai do? She simply collected them into the space. Twenty-three silly deer in all, gathered effortlessly.

When it came time to wash them, Zhou Sinian worriedly asked Ming Dai, “If they’re so silly, will eating them make us silly too?” After she assured him otherwise, his brushing became far more cheerful.

Thus, beside the sheep flock, a herd of silly deer appeared. After eating fresh grass leaves, they obediently stayed in the pen.

Zhou Sinian observed the herd, determined to pick out the tastiest one. Ming Dai thought: I need to thoroughly consult my culinary compendium.

Satisfied, the two returned home, unaware that soon after, the mountain echoed with furious tiger roars.

The tiger: “Who?! Who?! Which bastard stole my backup food stash again?!”

In the following days, whenever she had time, Ming Dai ventured into the mountains, amassing a great stockpile of medicinal herbs in the warehouse, waiting to be processed in winter’s idle hours. Zhou Sinian happily collected everything edible.

They even dug up many fruit trees and planted them in the space. Fortunately, the terrain within the space was under her control—she could freely adjust its size, or else they’d never fit so many things.

To nourish the sheep and silly deer, Ming Dai sowed a vast field of grass on the open ground, creating a small prairie, and built two movable pens so the animals could graze, shifting to a new patch once they’d finished the last.

Once they had thoroughly explored the local mountains, the first snow arrived, and the reservoir construction was nearing completion.

The snow fell overnight.

The next morning, when Ming Dai awoke, she felt an unusual brightness outside. Looking out, she saw it had snowed. Winter here was abrupt—the first snowfall was heavy, submerging half her leg.

Hearing the work bell ringing outside, Ming Dai felt worried; such weather was ripe for accidents.

Soon, someone came sweeping snow—she looked carefully and saw it was Accountant Liu.

“Accountant Liu, stop sweeping and come in to warm up!” she called.

Accountant Liu, breath fogging in the cold air, replied, “Almost done, just clearing the way so you can come and go easily.”

Ming Dai said no more, stoked the fire to boil water; today everyone would surely need something hot to drink.

While tending the fire, Ming Dai suddenly realized she hadn’t seen Zhou Sinian. Usually, whenever she got up, he would follow.

She walked around the firewood pile to find Zhou Sinian still lying in bed, not up yet. He was awake, his large eyes gazing at the ceiling.

“Zhou Sinian, why aren’t you getting up?”

His hair had grown long, each strand upright and determined like himself. The red kerchief, neatly folded, lay beside his pillow, oddly mismatched with the patched blue-grey quilt.

“It’s snowing. I won’t get up.”

Ming Dai laughed and shook her head. “Why won’t you get up just because it’s snowing? Come on, you can’t stay in bed for no reason.”

Zhou Sinian looked at her seriously with clear eyes. “It’s snowing. I won’t get up.”

Ming Dai was startled by his pure gaze and asked, “Why?”

Zhou Sinian stared at the dark ceiling and softly said, “It’s snowing, there’s nothing to eat. If I don’t get up, if I sleep, I won’t feel hungry.”

His voice was quiet, but Ming Dai felt as if her heart had been struck with a heavy hammer; tears immediately welled up and fell.

Oh, the winters of Black Province, with endless snow—Zhou Sinian had been here for three years.

On every snowy day, did he always lie alone on the kang, quietly enduring hunger and cold as they slowly eroded him?

Is this why he treasures food so fiercely, never forgetting to guard it?

Why he always tries to eat as much as possible in one sitting?

His severe gastritis must have been caused by such repeated hunger.

Ming Dai could not imagine what such an experience felt like.