Chapter 17

In the blink of an eye, the Mid-Autumn Festival arrived. The weather had turned thoroughly cool, and the osmanthus tree in the Zhu family’s courtyard was already in bloom, its sweet fragrance wafting beyond the walls.

Every year at this time, Xuan Zhu became a walking bouquet, her wrists, slender as lotus roots, adorned with osmanthus bracelets, and her whole person exuding the rich scent of the blossoms.

That year, Xuan’s elementary school granted three days off for the festival. She had been attending classes for half a month now and had already grown close with the once-unfamiliar children at school. They’d even made plans to play together during the holiday.

Xuan had begun studying the "Three Character Classic." She recognized characters and started memorizing the text, learning swiftly on her own. Before the break, the teacher quizzed everyone on their progress—testing their ability to write the words they’d learned from memory.

In the end, only Xuan and Yuan Fengyi received the highest grade in their class. Yuan Fengyi had studied these things before—this was child’s play for him. Xuan, on the other hand, had started from complete illiteracy and reached this level through genuine effort.

Proudly, Xuan brought her top-graded test paper home and, upon arrival, presented it for her family to admire.

“Only Yuan Fengyi and I received this grade. But we're not the same—he started learning at age three from his maternal grandfather. So really, I’m the most impressive!” Xuan declared, head held high in self-congratulation.

The rest of the Zhu family gathered around to look at her paper. They had intended to praise her, but since Xuan had already done so herself, they felt no need to add more. Zhu Ming even tried to humble her: “Pride comes before a fall.”

Xuan stamped her foot. “Why shouldn’t I be proud if I did well? I will be proud!”

Old Madam Sun, who had never been to school and was seeing Xuan’s test for the first time, asked, “What do these red circles mean? Does this ‘A’ mean you did well?”

Eagerly, Xuan explained: the red circles highlighted well-written words, and the best grade was ‘A.’ She was the top student in her class.

Old Madam Sun eyed her with rare curiosity. “Could it be you’re actually gifted in this area?”

“It’s not just brains—I work hard too! You see me every day up early, reading and practicing. You reap what you sow—if I didn’t earn an ‘A’ after all that, that would be strange indeed.” Xuan even summarized the reasons for her success.

Old Madam Sun nodded. “It seems going to school is like farming—tend the fields diligently, and they won’t fail you.” She glanced at Zhu Tang, who stiffened under her gaze and asked, “Grandmother, why are you looking at me?”

“It’s clear you never studied properly. Why didn’t you ever try to bring home an ‘A’ to please me? You’re not even as good as your little sister!” she scolded.

Zhu Tang hung his head, feeling stifled. He disliked school—who really liked it, anyway? Xuan was the odd one out; how many six-year-olds could sit still to read?

After berating Zhu Tang, Old Madam Sun turned her sharp tongue back to Xuan. “Don’t get too full of yourself. It’s just an ‘A,’ not the top scholar in the country!”

She then used Xuan’s example to spur Zhu Di: “Di, you should learn from your second sister and sit still to study. Our family’s future rests on you. A girl’s ‘A’ isn’t of much use.”

Little Zhu Di looked bewildered, while Xuan felt indignant—Old Madam Sun’s caustic words managed to leave all three children dissatisfied.

On the day of the festival, Old Madam Sun rose at dawn to clean the hall and polished the ancestral tablets of her three sons until they gleamed. After offering the first incense to Taiyin and Chang’e, and then to the local earth god, she prayed for a bountiful autumn harvest.

After honoring the main deities, she also paid her respects to literary gods such as Wenchang Dijun. When burning incense for Wenchang Dijun, she furtively checked that no one was around, then added an extra stick.

She whispered, “My second granddaughter brought home an ‘A’ from school. Perhaps you secretly blessed us. Please continue to watch over our children and grant them wisdom.”

Having finished her prayers, she called Shen Yun to help prepare the offerings for the Mid-Autumn table. Meat, fish, tofu, eggs—all the usual items were included, with fruits and pastries arranged before the gods and ancestors. Together, they kneaded dough and made two baskets of mooncakes to offer as well.

When everything was ready, she caught sight of two small hands sneaking toward the table to snatch a mooncake. Old Madam Sun slapped their hands away with vigor.

From under the table came a pair of yelps—it was Xuan and Ying, the two little rascals trying to steal a bite.

“Ow, ow, ow—ouch!” Xuan cried as her ear was twisted, and Ying joined in the chorus.

Old Madam Sun released them and glared, hands on hips. “You little mischief-makers, daring to disrespect the gods! If you anger them and they leave us, what will happen to our family’s fortune next year?”

She jabbed Xuan on the forehead. “Especially you! You go to school now and still act like this. Your little sister is young, but you should set an example! Boasting about your ‘A’—don’t let the gods mock you.”

Though Old Madam Sun often scolded her granddaughters, she was quick to offer incense to the gods to make amends, then had Xuan and Ying kneel and apologize, especially before the three ancestral tablets. “Your uncles have come home as spirits for the festival—if you drive them away, what if they don’t return next year?”

The girls rubbed their sore ears and solemnly kowtowed in apology, which finally satisfied Old Madam Sun.

That evening the full moon shone bright, and the family gathered for a reunion dinner. The old master took a sip of wine and said, “The weather’s cool. Tomorrow we start bringing in the harvest.”

After the festival, the Zhu family’s autumn rice was ripe. Usually, the old master managed the fields himself, aided by an ox for plowing and skilled hands for weeding and fertilizing. But at harvest time, even with Zhu Ming’s help—who stayed on for this very reason—it was impossible to manage alone.

Delays in the harvest could ruin the crop. Too early and the rice would still be green; too late, and birds or rain would cause losses.

In these days before harvesters, the Zhu family could only rely on a handful of sickles. To harvest at the optimal time, they had to hire day laborers.

In Reed Village, there were many families with little or no land, waiting for busy seasons to earn money as short-term help. Although Old Madam Sun often quarreled with the Liu family across the river, come harvest time, Mrs. Liu would still come to work for the Zhus.

The Liu family had little land and relied on their own labor to survive. Mrs. Liu’s fierce temperament made her a formidable worker—she could reap rice as quickly as any man.

Old Madam Sun paid by the task, not by gender, unlike some who offered women lower wages. This fairness made Mrs. Liu a regular hire despite their usual spats.

The day after the festival, the Zhu family’s courtyard bustled with activity as laborers arrived, sickles in hand.

Old Madam Sun and Shen Yun were both up before dawn. Laborers had to be paid and fed two meals a day. Here, Old Madam Sun’s expertise shone—she’d calculated the numbers and cooked porridge and steamed buns for breakfast.

Autumn was also the season for making red fermented bean curd. In the days before, they’d set jars of tofu to ferment with red yeast rice and wine. That morning, the first batch was opened to serve with porridge.

With fresh fish boiled and set to jelly overnight, there was a shimmering aspic perfect for breakfast. The Zhu family and the laborers filled two large tables, eating heartily before heading to the fields—men and women alike, all sturdy workers.

“Mrs. Liu, you come to work here—what about your husband and children?” Old Madam Sun asked as Mrs. Liu slurped her porridge.

Mrs. Liu swallowed and replied, “Amin is at home looking after her father and brother. They won’t starve.”

Shen Yun was astonished. “You trust a child as young as Amin to cook and tend the hearth?”

Mrs. Liu glanced at Shen Yun, an odd flicker of envy in her eyes. Shen Yun had such a charmed life: a good-looking husband, spared from conscription, all his limbs intact, and many children without hardship. She replied, “Not everyone coddles their daughters like you do—sending them to study as if they were treasures. Girls are nothing but a burden. Spoil them at home, and they’ll bring misfortune to their husband’s family.”

Although Old Madam Sun often scolded her own granddaughters, she couldn’t stand to hear outsiders insult them. She glared at Mrs. Liu: “Who are you calling a burden? Who brings misfortune? Are you here to work or to bring bad luck to my house? What’s wrong with sending them to school? I’ll do as I please! Xuan is excelling in her studies—she’s the only girl to earn an ‘A’!”

She spat in Mrs. Liu’s direction. “If I didn’t pity your widow’s hardships, I’d never hire you with that mouth of yours! Say another word like that and you’ll never work here again!”

Mrs. Liu’s face went white and green by turns. She wanted to retort but thought of her family’s livelihood and lowered her head. She was surprised—since when had Old Madam Sun changed her tune? She used to scold her granddaughters mercilessly herself. That’s why Mrs. Liu thought it would be safe to speak this way.

She hadn’t meant to bring bad luck—she never said such things about the Zhu boys, knowing Old Madam Sun favored them. She hadn’t expected even the Zhu girls were now off-limits.

The other workers were surprised too—Old Madam Sun was actually protective now! They whispered among themselves, “Which girl got the ‘A’? She’s that clever?”

“Is it the one who bit your arm? That’s remarkable!”

“My son’s been at school for three years and never gotten an ‘A.’ How did Xuan manage it?”

Old Madam Sun couldn’t help but puff up with pride, though she tried to look modest, chin high. “Of course it was Xuan—what’s so strange about that? She’s just as bright and capable as anyone, maybe a little more so—takes after me! And she works hard, up at dawn to study…”

“Grandmother!” Xuan interrupted, face flushed, unable to bear the attention.

Old Madam Sun realized she’d gotten carried away, which wasn’t like her. Composing herself, she said, “It’s nothing special. Nothing to be proud of. You lot are just trying to distract me with idle chatter to slack off! Let me tell you, I don’t pay by the hour but by the work you do. My eyes are as sharp as any in Reed Village—you won’t get away with slacking off on my watch!”