Chapter 57: CH 57

Mr. Tian was willing to help her out without her saying anything, which in Mo Ling’s mind was the responsibility of a good man.

This school wasn’t a closed courtyard, nor did it have a gate. There are neighbours’ houses on three sides, and the fourth had a street, where you could go from the main street to the north of the village. Following the path, you could see the Cao family.

Mo Ling realised that and said, “I’ll get some flower stencils from Mrs. Cao.” [1]

Mrs. Liang gritted his teeth and said, “It’s already dark, we’re going home!” After saying that, she turned to go home, and Mo Ling followed behind her.

Back home, Mo Ling washed the dishes in the kitchen, and Mrs. Liang sat at the dining table grumpily. She was fuming mad, but this was the first time she had encountered anything lke this, and she didn’t know where to direct her anger.

It was like a shell-less egg. With only a thin membrane surrounding it, everything could be seen, but it couldn’t be pierced. Just looking at it made Mrs. Liang angry.

After sitting there for a while, Mrs. Liang wordlessly returned to her room. She didn’t have the heart to work on her shoe soles, so she just sat there fuming.

Mo Ling felt calm when she saw that her mother was speechless. She thought, Everyone would accept a good man like Mr. Tian. Mum just doesn’t want me to get married too early, because she’s scared I won’t do work at home after I get married.

When Mo Yan came home, the lights weren’t on, but the moonlight was so bright that she could see clearly even with the little that trickled in.

She lifted the curtain of her room and saw Mo Ling lying on the kang. She was looking at the moon from the window, humming a little song and humming.

Because of the harvest, not many people were visiting the market, and the people on the road were all in a hurry, so they didn’t have as much business as before. The sisters decided to close shop for a few days, until the harvest was over.

Today, they closed early, wanting to buy some vegetables at the market. The work in the fields was labourious, so they needed a lot of energy.

By this time, most of the vegetables were past the prime harvest season. Cucumbers and green beans were commonplace, and everyone sold them. They were cheap, but these vegetables weren’t easy to store, and you couldn’t buy too many.

Looking at the piles of cheap vegetables in the market, Mo Yan was a little reluctant to leave, “Sis, can we buy some and pickle them? Pickled vegetables are easy to sell.”

Even since starting their business, Mo Ling’s mind has become more open, and she now understands the usefulness of versatility and adaptation.

“Mum said her ancestors made pickles, so she must know how to too.”

Not wanting to be scolded by Mrs. Liang, the two didn’t dare buy too much. They bought two and a half kilograms of cucumbers, and a kilogram of green beans. Because the business wasn’t good today, they still had some unsold braised pork left.

When they got home, Mo Ling went to sharpen their sickles in preparation to harvest sorghum tomorrow.

Seeing that there weren’t a lot of medicinal herbs under the tree, Mo Ling asked Mo Feng, who was sitting at the entrance of his room, “Why did you dig up so few medicinal herbs?”

Mo Feng replied listlessly, “That piece of wasteland isn’t a cornucopia. We only found these medicinal herbs after travelling a long way.”

“Tomorrow, we’ll be cutting sorghum, while our mum and Yan’er will harvest mung beans.”

Mo Feng rolled his eyes and said nothing. He didn’t want to work, but he had no reason not to.

When Mrs. Liang came home and saw how many cucumbers and green beans they had, she started yelling again, “Why did you buy so many vegetables? We can’t finish all of this!”

“They were cheap and didn’t cost a lot to buy. We can pickle them so they last a few more days, and we can even sell them!” Mo Yan said.

“You have a point!” Mr. Liang sat down to inspect them. She seemed like she had already thought about how to prepare the vegetables.

After the vegetables were washed, they were left to dry in the yard, and the family had lunch. There was meat, and Mrs. Liang also cooked two of the larger cucumbers. Mo Feng ate until he was stuffed again.

When the vegetables in the yard were dried, the cucumbers were put into the pot with salt. Mrs. Liang took a jar of sauce, put green beans in, and pressed them down with chopsticks.

It was the first time that Mo Yan had seen this method of pickling vegetables, “Mum, won’t this make the jar of sauce go bad?”

Mrs. Liang closed the sauce jar, “You’ll find out in a few days.”

After half a day, Mrs. Liang added shredded onion and ginger, mixed with cinnamon and aniseed, to the cucumbers. After marinating overnight, they’d be able to eat it tomorrow, and it’d be guaranteed to be crispy as well.

Mo Yan didn’t go storytelling that light, so she took the book and started reading in front of the oil lamp in the living room.

Mrs. Liang had already made several pairs of shoe soles. Mo Ling helped to make the rest of the shoe, which Mrs. Liang attached to the soles.

“Don’t you only know a few words? What are you even reading?” Mrs. Liang said.

“Won’t I know more if I read more? I want to see what we can plant next year after we finish reclaiming the wasteland.”

“That piece of land won’t grow much even after being reclaimed. We have to spend money to fertilise the land first!”

“That’s why I’m reading up on what can be grown in alkali soil.” Mo Yan said.

Mrs. Liang sneered, “A lot of weeds grow in alkali soil, you don’t even need to plant it!”

Mo Yan didn’t show weakness, “There are also dandelions and chinese foxgloves. Didn’t we dig up a lot of them?”

Mrs. Liang stopped sewing and asked, “Can those really be planted?”

“If they can grow so well on their own, won’t they grow even better and make us even more money if we cultivated them?”

“Then how do we plant them?”

“I’m reading up on it now.”

Speaking of planting medicinal herbs, Mo Yan remembered the mandrake she found by the pond. She didn’t know if its seeds were mature yet. If they were, they could be harvested and sown. They might even grow into mandrakes themselves!

When she went for her morning run the next day, Mo Yan went to find the mandrake. Two of its fruits were about to ripen. She carefully picked them and took them home.

She put them on the windowsill to dry, and found that the clay birds that her second grandmother made for her were still hanging there. She remembered that she said that it could make sounds. She picked them up and tried them one by one. Of the five little mud birds, only one could, and it only made a dull and monotonous sound.

She happily took it and ran to the backyard, “Second grandma, this bird can make a sound!”

The old woman was standing at the door of the house, leaning on a cane. Her pair of gloomy eyes glowed coldly, and it sent shivers down Mo Yan’s spine.

“What kind of crops did you grow in the fields this year?” the old woman asked gloomily.

“Sorghum,” Mo Yan replied.

“You planted something people can’t eat. It causes indigestion after eating.”

Her second grandmother rolled her eyes and said, “During the famine a few years ago, even sorghum husks were eaten, but now sorghum is considered inedible?”

The old woman’s face was still cold, “That was then, this is now. The world is at peace, and I have a filial son, how can I eat such things?”

Mo Yan thought to herself, If you don’t want to eat it, that’s fine. It’s more for us!

She forgot that the old woman also lived in the backyard, and the joy of the little clay bird making sound was completely washed away.

Post-edit notes: This chappie was basically just a callback to before wasn’t it?

[1] That’s a callback from Chapter 2. I’ll be surprised it anyone still remembers it!