Chapter 13

Descending the mountain, Gao Xi wanted to help Gao Nuan carry the shovel and basket, but Gao Nuan refused, deliberately keeping a few steps’ distance. Gao Xi couldn’t understand why Gao Nuan acted this way; it seemed that ever since their cousins arrived in Gaojia Village, their relationship had lost its former closeness. Even though they could still talk, there was a sense of distance. His cousin was a young lady now, no longer able to frolic as before, but so was Brother Zhao.

He could vaguely sense that Brother Zhao was pushing him away.

“It’s just an empty basket, not heavy,” Gao Nuan noticed Gao Xi’s overthinking and offered an explanation, then changed the subject: “Has Uncle returned?”

“Yes,” Gao Xi replied with a smile, “Uncle came back at the beginning of the month, brought many good things from the capital, gave me some, and I brought a few for you.”

Gao Nuan’s suspicions deepened.

She smiled and thanked him, then asked, “Does Uncle know you’re here?”

“No, whenever I come only Ah Xing knows,” Gao Xi said, sensing that his cousin wanted to talk, so he added, “The provincial exam is next year, Father and Mother urge me daily about my studies. I don’t dare let them know I’m here, otherwise they’ll scold me for being playful.”

Gao Nuan followed his words to advise, “Now that we’ve finished mourning, Xiao Zhao is also preparing for next year’s exam. You shouldn’t come over before the New Year; the weather is getting colder, don’t catch a chill on the road.”

And so, even as she spoke words of concern, she gently pushed him away.

Brother Zhao did the same.

Gao Xi didn’t respond.

At the village path, Gao Nuan stopped and said to Gao Xi, “It’s inconvenient at home today, so I won’t invite you in. We’ll visit you in the city in a few days.”

Gao Xi sensed something odd about Gao Nuan today, but seeing her calm, stern face, full of intent to send him off, he dared not linger and irritate her, though he couldn’t help feeling disappointed. He turned and instructed his servant to bring the box and hand it to Gao Nuan. Inside were a few books, a toy, and a finely crafted hairpin. The hairpin wasn’t from Gao Ming Tong, so it must have been exchanged for something from his sisters.

Only after watching Gao Xi’s carriage leave did Gao Nuan enter the village.

The neighbor Fourth Granny was out with Miao Wa. Gao Nuan greeted her at a distance, “I’ll use the shovel and basket a bit longer, I’ll return them later.”

Fourth Granny smiled, “No rush, we won’t need them today.”

Gao Nuan went home first to wash her face and hands, then cleaned the shovel and basket, scalded them with boiling water, and dried them before returning them to Fourth Granny. She explained that Gao Zhao had twisted his ankle, so Miao Wa’s lessons would be delayed for a few days.

Gao Nuan told her two younger brothers about the matter with the smallpox boy, instructing them to study in the courtyard and not go out. First, she wasn’t sure if they had been infected that morning, and worried they might spread it to villagers. Second, she feared someone in the village might become infected and pass it to them.

Around noon, Gao Ming Qiu came by, bringing a piece of meat on behalf of the old clan leader. The siblings had finished mourning today and didn’t hold a ceremony, so the clan leader sent something as a token.

No sooner had Gao Ming Qiu left than Aunt Wang arrived, carrying a fish bought at the market yesterday and salted. Gao Nuan explained that Sanbao couldn’t come to study with Gao Zhao for the time being.

Aunt Wang said, “I know. You siblings have stayed in the village to observe mourning for your mother. Now that it’s over, you’ll return to the county soon. These two years, Da Zhao has taught Sanbao to read and understand, and I remember that kindness! Though I’m poor and powerless, if you ever come back, I can still provide a meal for you.”

“Thank you, Auntie, but we’ll stay a bit longer.”

The matter with the smallpox boy was mostly their uncle’s doing, so he wouldn’t take them back to the city, and the siblings didn’t want to return to the Gao residence. Even here, their uncle was scheming against them; going back would be like sending lambs to the slaughter. Now, with the village bustling, it was less convenient for him.

Gao Nuan and her brothers expected their uncle to come for ancestral rites today, but he didn’t, and their worries grew.

On such an important day, why didn’t he come? Was he still ill, or was their little cousin unwell?

They could have visited a few days later, but now, because of the smallpox, they were delayed.

-

At night, Yu Shensi tossed and turned, unable to sleep, his mind full of the smallpox boy. He himself had crossed over after being diagnosed with a terminal illness; what about that boy? Smallpox was nearly terminal here. Where would he go after death? His parents sold him for two taels of silver—could he reincarnate into a better family?

He worried about himself and Gao Zhao catching smallpox, since it was highly contagious and they’d both been in contact that morning. They’d washed up promptly after returning, but he didn’t know if that would prevent infection. At his age, his resistance was weak, most susceptible to smallpox. He put a hand to his forehead—no fever, no discomfort.

Gao Zhao suddenly reached over and hugged him, asking softly, “Still awake?”

There were only two beds at home; he and Gao Zhao always slept on the west bed against the wall, Gao Nuan on the east one.

“Don’t be afraid, it’ll be alright,” Gao Zhao patted his chest and comforted him, “Big Sister has taken care of it, no one will find out.”

Yu Shensi knew Gao Zhao was afraid too; usually at this hour he’d be fast asleep, but tonight his voice showed not a hint of drowsiness.

Gao Nuan was also awake on the east bed, listening to her brothers’ quiet whispers, her heart anxious.

The next day passed as usual; Gao Zhao and Yu Shensi showed no symptoms. But in the afternoon, someone came from the Gao residence—it was Uncle Guang, who usually delivered their rice.

For the past year, rice had always arrived at the start of the month, but today was only the twenty-seventh, not the day. This confirmed for the siblings that Gao Ming Tong was behind all this.

Now that Gao Ming Jin had remarried and fathered another son, the line was secure, and the original children were even less necessary. This was Uncle Guang coming to gather information.

Uncle Guang carried the rice to the kitchen. Gao Nuan took the initiative, “Yesterday we finished mourning—why did Uncle send rice? Isn’t he planning to take us back?”

Uncle Guang was prepared. He smiled, “Miss, you misunderstand the Master. There’s word of a plague in the city. The Master is worried about your safety, so he wants you and the young masters to stay here a while longer, until the plague passes, then he’ll fetch you.” He glanced toward the main room, “Are the young masters well? I’ll report back to the Master.”

“All is well.”

“Good. If you encounter any trouble, you must tell the Master, never wrong yourself again.”

“I understand. Please give my regards to Uncle and Third Uncle.”

-

Gao Ming Tong listened to Uncle Guang’s report, anxiety gnawing at him.

He hadn’t seen Zhao or Yang, didn’t know their condition, and Nuan hadn’t mentioned the smallpox boy. Such a grave matter, yet the children risked infection without asking him for help—it showed they trusted him not at all.

Perhaps the incident years ago when he didn’t save Yang had chilled their hearts, making them believe that help would not come even if they asked. This was Gao Ming Tong’s guess.

He instructed Uncle Guang, “Have someone keep an eye on Zhao and Yang.”

-

On the third day, Gao Zhao and Yu Shensi showed no symptoms. But no one could relax.

Gao Nuan had had chickenpox before, so she knew its incubation period could be a few days or as long as half a month. They didn’t tell their youngest brother to avoid frightening him. Yu Shensi also knew about the incubation from his former life; it could last up to twenty days. But he wasn’t sure if it was the same in this era.

With no symptoms, the brothers couldn’t focus on reading or writing. They leafed through books for hours, unable to absorb a single sentence; Yu Shensi struggled for ages without memorizing much. This suspended anxiety was harder to bear than a confirmed diagnosis.

On the fourth day, Gao Nuan guessed the boy must have died. She had promised to bury him after his death, and she couldn’t break her word to the deceased.

Early in the morning, she carried the shovel and basket, pretending to go to the mountain for her mother’s memorial.

Arriving at the spot where the boy had been abandoned, behind a large stone, she found no one. Her heart leapt into her throat, and a thousand dreadful thoughts flashed through her mind. She quickly scanned her surroundings, noticing crushed dry grass underfoot, and followed the tracks with her shovel.

-

The tracks led down the slope. After several dozen steps, she found the boy behind another large stone. To her astonishment, he wasn’t dead as she expected, but alive.

He was crouched by a small pond, cupping water to drink. The pond had been dug out over a century ago when the Gao family built their ancestral hall, using local stone. It was small, surrounded by dry grass, and filled with rainwater that had collected over time.

The boy’s movements were more agile than before; his clothes had been swapped inside out.

Hearing footsteps behind him, he looked back and froze at the sight of Gao Nuan.

Gao Nuan was stunned, needing a moment to accept what she saw—the boy was alive.

She hesitated before approaching; the boy sat up from the pond’s edge, coughing continuously, but with a bit of strength.

“You came to bury me?” the boy asked weakly, a faint smile on his face. The blisters on his face were less horrifying than days before, some even showing signs of scabbing, which seemed impossible to Gao Nuan—how could he be improving?

She wanted to ask how he had recovered, then realized the question was pointless. With no food or medicine, only self-healing was possible. But such a severe illness—how could one recover alone?

The boy saw her doubt; he himself could hardly believe the miracle.

He had thought he would die here. That day, leaning against the stone, he recalled the joys of his brief life, hoping to lessen regrets and distract himself from pain. His thoughts drifted to his parents who abandoned him, to those who used his illness to harm, and to the girl who carried him here.

The more he thought, the less he wanted to die; an overwhelming will to live rose in his heart.

After eating the offerings, he gathered some strength and crawled down the slope, hoping to encounter a kind soul who would save him. But the place was deserted, and no one came. Unexpectedly, he discovered the small pond, drank desperately, then slept. Upon waking, he dug for wild grass roots to eat—by that night, his pain lessened. He kept eating wild grass roots and drinking from the pond.

Today, he found the blisters starting to scab—he was healing.

Gao Nuan listened to his account, her emotions finally settling.

She looked again at the boy sitting opposite, her heart filled with admiration—for his stone-like will at such a young age. Even adults rarely managed such resolve; most would give up, knowing their chances were slim. His intense desire to live had carried him through.

She glanced at the surrounding weeds, “What roots did you eat?”

The boy replied, “Whatever I could find.”

Gao Nuan was silent for a moment, sighed softly, and rose to leave with her shovel.

“Sister,” the boy called suddenly, breathless and coughing hard.

Gao Nuan glanced back at him, then walked away.

The boy watched her disappear behind the rocks, his grip tightening on his clothes, eyes full of disappointment, but it didn’t last; he turned back to drink from the pond, then lay on the stone to bask in the sun. Just as he lay down, he heard footsteps again. He struggled to sit up, seeing the girl return with a small basket.

Gao Nuan took out a few pieces of cake and two chicken legs wrapped in cloth. “These were meant as offerings for you. Since you’re still alive, eat them.” She placed the food on a stone and stepped back ten paces.

The boy grabbed a chicken leg and devoured it, so eagerly he choked and coughed for a while.