“I promised to rent fifty lambs to Mu Xiang,” Mi Niang told Bahu during lunch.
“Fifty?” Bahu furrowed his brow. He didn’t approve but didn’t say much either. “As you wish. What if she can’t repay in the coming years?”
“Deal with it as it comes.”
“Fine.” Bahu picked up a dumpling, finding the lamb and leek filling too much for him. Today, he switched to lamb and mushroom filling, which wasn’t as tasty as leeks.
“Mother, are there any chicken farms in Mao County that sell eggs? What about pig farms?” Mi Niang wanted to eat eggs and chicken soup, feeling too much lamb might cause discomfort.
“No chicken farms here. If you want eggs, wait until spring when wild chickens, ducks, and other waterfowl return. Look around places with water and grass; you can find quite a few eggs of all sizes,” Bahu’s mother said, biting into a dumpling. It was more refreshing than lamb-filled buns; the old man would probably like it.
“Bahu, did you beat your father to death?” the woman asked slowly. It had been almost a month, and the old man hadn’t come looking for her. Something must have happened to keep him away.
Bahu glanced at the door, “He’s not worth me going to jail for.”
“So, you beat him until he can’t get out of bed.”
Bahu chuckled lightly and asked, “Regarding what I told you earlier, you said you needed time to think. It’s been almost a month now. How’s your consideration going?”
This time, she fell silent, picking at the meat in her bowl, head down. She didn’t speak, and the sound of water accompanied her chopsticks tapping.
Mi Niang glanced at Bahu and, seeing his dark expression and furrowed brows, looking like he was about to lose his temper, she interrupted, saying, “Let’s eat first. We can talk after the meal.”
He couldn’t focus on eating, though. Anyone could see that in the past month, Uncle Muren’s actions were that of a fool. Bahu, thinking his mother was pleased, believed she was moved.
He forced down a breath, offering her a way out, “If you don’t want to remarry, that’s fine. I’ll build you a house, and you can live quietly by yourself. You won’t have to worry about others’ opinions, and no one will harm you. Just consider him dead and live with me, let me take care of you in your old age. Is that acceptable?”
“But he’s not dead.”
With a loud thud, Bahu slammed the chopsticks onto the table, kicking the chair over as he stood up. “What do I have to say for you to understand? You have a good life in front of you, and you insist on going back to get beaten? You…”
Stupid? Mi Niang added silently in her mind, completing the unspoken words for him.
At this point, the person outside the door couldn’t hold back any longer and walked in. The old man looked helplessly at Bahu, then at the silent woman sitting there. He awkwardly said, “Yeah, living alone is quite peaceful. With children and grandchildren around, don’t go back anymore.”
Bahu’s mother remained tight-lipped, not uttering a word. She continued picking at the minced meat in her bowl, lifting it, and then pressing it back into the dumpling soup. Even Mi Niang, seeing her in this state, felt too irritated to eat.
“If you continue like this, and he beats you to death, I won’t shed a single tear,” Bahu spat out harsh words.
“You don’t need to say that. You’re not that kind of person,” the woman finally put down the chopsticks in her hand and lifted her head. “I invested more than twenty precious years in him. Because of your father, I severed ties with my brothers. It’s too much; it’s not something that can be ended with just leaving. Besides, there’s Agula and Sandan…”
“Don’t mention those two. They don’t care about you. When you’re not home, they couldn’t care less.” Just like him, he had been cautious since his mother arrived. “Forget it. I’ll take you back.” She didn’t want to say more.
So, she still didn’t want to leave that worthless man who beats people? Bahu helped her up and sat back down, looking at the soup in Mi Niang’s bowl without steam. He ladled another bowl and placed it in front of her. “Eat your meal, don’t mind her.”
Bahu sat across from his mother, staring at her, pondering how much love potion she must have consumed to become like this. She didn’t want to leave even though her eyes and nose were bruised. Usually, she spoke like a normal person, but when it came to that miserable old man, she seemed to lose her senses.
“You take me back. You’re not happy with me staying here,” even though she spent most of her time in the backyard, this couple still felt somewhat restrained in their interactions.
Bahu ignored her, stood up, took a new pair of chopsticks, and continued eating. “Uncle Muren, stay and have dumplings with us. Mi Niang taught my mother how to make them.”
“No, I came to tell you that a ewe has given birth to a lamb.” Uncle Muren didn’t understand Bahu’s intentions, but he decided not to make snowmen from tomorrow onwards.
Bahu acknowledged with a grunt and filled his stomach. Seeing his mother still sitting there, he poured out the messy noodle soup she had stirred and fed it to the dog. “The snow is deeper than a horse’s leg. I don’t think I can take you back. Just wait until the snow melts next year before going back. Maybe you’re too idle; your brain has gone bad. Starting today, you’ll come with me to the sheep pen to help the ewes give birth.”
“I won’t.”
“I’ll teach you. I learned it when I was fourteen. You, at forty-one, should have no trouble picking it up.” Bahu realized that when he coddled her, she tended to get confused. The days following the beating from the old man were probably the clearest in her mind.
Before Mi Niang could react, Bahu had lifted his mother out like catching a little chick. After she fed the dog, washed the bowls, and changed into tall boots, she went to the sheep pen. There, she saw Bahu, stern-faced like a landlord, staring at the newly hired hand. The hired hand, with two narrow eyebrows twisted in disdain, had hands covered in sheep’s blood, wearing a face full of disgust.
Sheep go into heat from September to November, and gestation lasts for nearly five months, so ewes give birth from the beginning of the year until mid-March. Mi Niang’s belly was growing larger day by day, but she only busied herself with three meals a day for three people, shoveling snow, assisting with lambing, bringing weak newborn lambs back to the warmth of the house, milking and feeding, and churning sheep milk into butter. Bahu never let his mother be excluded from these tasks.
The results were evident—Bahu’s mother never mentioned going back or anything similar again. From the time she started compulsively washing her hands until now, facing sheep blood and dung with indifference, her appetite increased each day, and her spirits improved significantly. According to Bahu, she even slept soundly, not moving at all when he got up in the middle of the night to add firewood to the kang. The people in the house didn’t stir a bit.
In March, it still snowed in the northern desert, but after a snowfall, it would be clear for several days. The sunlight filtering through the clouds onto the accumulated snow was blinding and uncomfortable to the eyes.
Starting in January, due to the ewes giving birth, the private school in the relief center disbanded. Most of the time, Mi Niang sat at home sewing clothes—some for the children and some for herself and Bahu. Her baby had been in her belly for five months, and Bahu was afraid that if she went out, the glare would make her unable to open her eyes, and she might stumble and fall. Except when he accompanied her, he didn’t let her leave the house at other times.
“Mi Niang, let’s go. I’ll take you out for a walk.” It was time for the daily outing, and Bahu washed his hands, pushed open the door, and waited outside with a raincoat on.
The two walked in the snow in front of the door. During the day, the top layer of snow melted into water, and at night, it froze into ice again. Their footsteps sounded crisp as they stepped on the hard, compacted snow, forming a snow nest with each step. Bahu kept his eyes on the path, almost holding Mi Niang in his arms. The prominent view was her bulging belly under the cloak. He couldn’t help but touch it. In another four or five months, he would also be a father.
“Do you find it strange again?” Mi Niang also touched her belly. Her belly was almost calloused from Bahu’s constant touching. At night, when she woke up, she found his hand always resting on her belly. In a half-asleep state, he would curl up in the quilt, staring at her bulging belly, saying it was strange how the child was growing day by day.
The man laughed and kicked away a block of ice overturned by cattle, looking up, saying that in another half a month, the snow would start to melt. By then, the water from the snow in front of and behind the house would seem endless, and water would be everywhere.
“In the morning, before the sun rises, the rooftops are covered in ice, and anywhere there is water, it’s all frozen.”
“That makes ice skating more convenient,” Mi Niang was still thinking about this.
“Yeah, tie a piece of cowhide behind your back, and as soon as you step out the door, you’ll be sliding away. Can’t return home until the ice turns into water,” the house is built in a high place, not even the dog dares to step out of the threshold, or else it would be lunchtime by the time they find their way back.
Hmm, Mi Niang patted her belly. She also wanted to slide away on the cowhide, bringing Da Huang along, casually running down the slippery slope, and when the sun melted the ice, returning with mud on their feet.
“Master!” The voice was chilling, and Bahu abruptly turned around, just in time to see a figure stepping over the threshold. The old man had recovered and could walk now.
“You go back first; I’ll walk back slowly.” Mi Niang pushed him.
“No need. Those who want to leave won’t stay, and those who don’t want to leave won’t mind waiting a bit longer.” After three months, whether his mother left or stayed, he had already accepted it.
As the two approached the main gate, they heard the wailing of a man inside. Mi Niang glanced at Bahu, and hesitated for a moment, thinking that maybe she shouldn’t go in, but Bahu held her and stepped over the threshold.
Outside the kitchen door, there was a broken bowl, and the ground, sprinkled with butter tea, was still steaming. In the courtyard knelt a man with sunken cheeks. Judging by his appearance, Mi Niang turned her face away uncomfortably. This also allowed her to see her mother-in-law’s expression clearly. The nostrils flared, the wrinkles on the sides of her nose deeper than usual. She was smiling, indeed smiling. The eyebrows and eyes were gentle, but the folds at the corners of her eyes weren’t squeezed together. The eyes were smiling, but the expression on her face seemed extremely sad.
Mi Niang took a step back, leaning against the door, observing one person crying and apologizing, and the other with a hint of satisfaction and blame in their eyes. She finally understood why Bahu’s mother was unwilling to leave the man who beat her. She enjoyed the high posture he took when he kneeled and apologized. Each time she endured a beating, it meant she would have another chance to dominate someone and swing her fists.
She relished it, and the man kneeling on the ground, slapping himself in the face, probably relished it too.
As they stepped out of the door, Mi Niang leaned against it, merely turning her feet to face a different direction. She watched Bahu in frustration and the woman, tears streaming down her face, advising Bahu to live a good life. Yet, her facial features remained relaxed.
“Mi Niang,” the woman wiped away her tears and approached. She resumed her gentle demeanor, holding her daughter-in-law’s cold hand, and advising her to wear warmer clothes. “If you have a daughter in the future, don’t let her marry a man with intense emotions. Those who can abuse themselves for sympathy and forgiveness might one day turn to abuse her.” Just like her…
Mi Niang pulled the corners of her mouth slightly but remained silent. She couldn’t even distinguish if Bahu’s mother’s current demeanor was her true nature or a façade. She should be a gentle person, a bit weak in character, and somewhat foolish in her mind.
