Chapter 107: Father Chi Falls Ill

This story is entirely fictional.

The narrow path was overgrown with weeds. Unlike in the past, when it was nothing but yellow mud that became impassable whenever it rained, the middle of the path had been paved with gravel.

Chi Zhaoming knew this was a major achievement orchestrated by his uncle, Chi Mingkun. His uncle had found friends to have the village’s main thoroughfare paved with gravel, ensuring that villagers no longer had to take off their shoes to walk during rainy days, finally bidding farewell to those days of being covered in mud.

When he and Zhengzhe reached the edge of the fish pond, his parents finally noticed their son and Zhengzhe had returned.

"How do you have time to come back today? Aren't you working?" his mother asked, standing by the pond.

"Didn't I hear from Mingyue that the old man's back pain hasn't improved for a long time? So I brought some medicine for it. Did you accidentally throw your back out while working?" Chi Zhaoming replied.

Chi Qian was wearing waterproof gear, wading through the fish pond. A water pump was draining the pond; most of the water had already been removed, leaving only some muddy water in the low-lying areas that could not be fully drained. In the murky puddles, one could see fish swimming and struggling in the shallows, darting about in a desperate attempt to escape.

Inadvertently, as a large grass carp darted past Chi Qian, its tail stirred up the mud, splashing it all over the old man. Chi Qian’s face was covered in muddy water, with only his bright eyes blinking, making him look quite comical.

Chi Qian held a fishing net in his hand, and next to him were two large baskets. He scooped up the fish one by one and dumped them into the baskets with steady, unhurried movements. In no time, one basket was full. The fish inside kept jumping, splashing more mud onto Chi Qian's face.

His mother walked over to Chi Zhaoming, asking about his well-being. "Is Xiyu still getting sick often? How is Dujuan’s health? How are the elders at home?"

Chi Zhaoming stood by his mother's side, answering her questions. Only when she learned that the elders and little Dujuan were all doing well did she feel at ease.

Beside the pond stood a flatbed cart, prepared for hauling the fish home. After a long while, most of the fish had been harvested. Chi Qian had placed all the fish into the baskets. Since the bank of the pond was quite steep, it was difficult to pull the hundred-pound baskets up to the cart on the path.

Mother Chi laid a wooden board diagonally between the path and the pond. Chi Qian placed a basket on the board and tied a rope to the handle, tossing it up to the path. Mother Chi caught the rope and pulled with all her might, guiding the basket up the board. Once both baskets were on the path, Chi Zhaoming and Zhengzhe prepared to help her load them onto the cart. Mother Chi quickly said, "Don't touch them, you'll get your clothes covered in mud."

Chi Zhaoming thought she was waiting for his father to come up to help, but instead, she gripped both sides of the basket with her hands and lifted it onto the cart with a single heave. He rarely had the chance to see his mother's frail body exert such strength, lifting the hundred-pound load so easily. He couldn't help but feel a pang of regret; he rarely did manual labor, and as a man, he had less strength than his elderly mother.

"At your age, you shouldn't be lifting such heavy things. It would be terrible if you hurt your back; at your age, it's very hard to recover," Zhaoming said, feeling a sense of heartache for her.

"It's nothing. I've worked my whole life, this isn't heavy labor. The really heavy work is done by your father," Mother Chi said, looking at her son.

"I remember when I graduated from high school, there was one day you and Dad made me do a full day of harvesting. I still remember it to this day. My hands were covered in blisters. After harvesting, we had to bundle the rice stalks, but I didn't know how. I couldn't get them bundled properly, and even when I did, for some reason, they would easily fall apart. I was crying and laughing at the same time that day. It was from that moment that I decided I had to leave this life of 'facing the yellow earth and backing the sky.' I wasn't going to be a simple farmer for the rest of my life. The leeches on my legs were excruciatingly painful, and you and Dad were laughing at me, laughing that I couldn't handle the hardship yet wanted to escape the countryside. I made up my mind then: I didn't want to stay in the countryside anymore; I wanted to go out and see the world. And so, I left you. Now that I think about it, I find my younger self quite funny. What’s so bad about the countryside? I actually like it here quite a lot now. But it seems this place no longer needs me," Chi Zhaoming recounted.

"Don't even mention it. You and Zhengzhe were restless and always causing trouble. Do you remember the time you stabbed that policeman's younger brother with an umbrella? You only joined the army because you had to hide from the brother's vengeance," Mother Chi said, her memory still sharp; it felt as if the events of decades ago had happened just yesterday.

Chi Qian had climbed onto the path. He arranged the baskets on the cart, securing them tightly and steadily before walking to the front. Chi Zhaoming followed behind the cart, watching his father’s once-upright frame, now hunched and stooped, as he pulled the handles of the cart. Mother Chi walked on the other side, steadying the side of the cart as they moved along the narrow trail. The cart made a creaking sound as it slowly traversed the path, clearly imprinting a winding set of ruts.

Back at the house, Chi Qian put the baskets into the river, covering the tops with a net. When the fish touched the water, they began to leap joyfully. "Early tomorrow morning, I'll take the fish to the market. I can still fetch a good price for them now," his father said to Chi Zhaoming, who was standing nearby.

"Don't forget to take out those mandarin fish when you leave, so Zhaoming can take them back. Our grandson loves mandarin fish the most," Mother Chi reminded him.

"If I take them out now, they'll die quickly. I'll take them out when he's ready to leave," Chi Qian replied. He turned to his son and asked, "Are you leaving after lunch?"

"Yeah, every time I come back, it feels like I’m rushing to a market—I can only stay for a little while before I have to go. Your mother is always asking me if you can find a slack time and stay home for a few days. It's been decades; can't you satisfy your mother’s request?" his father asked.

"You're right. I'll find a time, but it has to be when I'm not so busy. I'll look for an opportunity, and it also depends on how Dujuan and Xiyu are doing. I'm thinking, if possible, we'll all come back together. Just like last time. Maybe we can call Zhezhe too. Mingyue hasn't been back in a long time either; I'll call her, and when you turn seventy, we'll throw a banquet and make it a lively celebration?"

"Don't bother with a banquet for my seventieth. Although Mingyue doesn't come back often, a big celebration isn't necessary. She calls us every day, so we don't worry about her. It's you we worry about most—you neither come home to visit nor even make a phone call. Sigh!" Mother Chi finished with a long sigh.

"It's not that I'm stingy with the phone bill; it's just that there’s nothing to talk about, so I don't think to call. Since everything is fine, a phone call is just a few words anyway. It's been like this for years; you should be used to it by now!" Chi Zhaoming said, a bit dismissively.

"You children... when you're away, it's not about having something specific to talk about. A mother worries about her child a thousand miles away—don't you understand that? Mingyue calls home every day without saying anything special, just to let us know she's safe. As parents, we just want to know our children are safe. So, you should call more often, so your mother doesn't have to keep nagging," Chi Qian said.

"Alright, I'll call more often from now on. Is that okay?" Chi Zhaoming reluctantly agreed.

Back inside, Chi Qian took out a pack of cheap cigarettes, lit one with the windproof lighter Zhengzhe had given him, and took a drag.

Seeing his father smoke, his spirits seemed to lift. Chi Zhaoming couldn't help but ask, "Is your cough still as bad as usual? Should we find time for you to go to the hospital for an X-ray to see if there's anything wrong with your lungs?"

"It's an old ailment from decades ago; I'm used to it. Bronchitis and asthma," Chi Qian said, puffing hard on the cigarette.

"If it were just bronchitis, it wouldn't be a big deal, but I'm worried about tumors or something similar." Chi Zhaoming remained concerned about his father's lungs.

"It's not the lungs that are the problem right now; it's my back pain, and it's getting worse," Chi Qian said, looking at the bottle of Jinwu Gutong Pills that Zhaoming had brought from Dahe. "Are you saying this medicine is effective for back pain?" He seemed to see a glimmer of hope for a cure.

"I think it works very well. Whenever my back hurts, I take this for two days and it improves immediately. I don't know if it will have the same effect on you," Chi Zhaoming said.

"Then I'll start taking it now and see if it's as miraculous as you say." He opened the bottle while speaking. Chi Zhaoming poured him a glass of water and handed it over. "Here. Take it again in the evening; three times a day. Let's see if it works in two days."

"I hope so!" Chi Qian said, popping the pills into his mouth, taking a sip of water, and tilting his head back to swallow them. A while later, his mother had already prepared several of Chi Zhaoming's favorite dishes in the kitchen, including the soft-shelled turtle just caught from the pond.

Chi Zhaoming went to the kitchen to help his mother turn the turtle into the famous dish "Overlord Takes Yu," and Wu Zhengzhe couldn't stop swallowing his saliva. The lotus stalks, freshly picked from the pond, were scooped out of the pot and onto a plate, still steaming, with a pungent, sour-and-spicy aroma. "Wow, it’s been so long since I've tasted your cooking. Just the smell is enough to make my mouth water!"

"To make 'Overlord Takes Yu,' you have to boil it in cold water first until the turtle dies, so it expels all the urine from its bladder while struggling in the pot. Try it and see if it tastes like what you used to eat," Chi Zhaoming said, placing a piece of turtle in Wu Zhengzhe's bowl. Zhengzhe took a bite. "Wow, great taste. The 'Overlord Takes Yu' you make is truly authentic. Delicious! Delicious!"

Chi Zhaoming looked up at Wu Zhengzhe and continued, "You know, when I was in Huacheng, a friend of mine was a chef at the Baiyun Hotel in Guangzhou. At that time, there were only two or three five-star hotels like that in the whole country, and that’s where I learned this famous dish."

"At least you’re knowledgeable. Me, when I was in Shandong, I didn't learn how to cook any dishes, just how to make dumplings. I've eaten every kind of filling, so let's have a dumpling feast another day, how about that?" Wu Zhengzhe replied.

Time passed easily amidst the laughter, and soon it was time for Chi Zhaoming and Zhengzhe to return to Dahe. Every time this happened, his mother would look reluctant to see them go. His father, however, acted as if nothing were wrong, catching a few lively fish from the basket and placing them in a snakeskin bag. He instructed Chi Zhaoming, "When you get back, have them processed at the market before taking them home, so you don't get blood all over the place."

"There are quite a few fish; give some to Zhengzhe. Your family isn't big, and you won't be able to finish them in two or three days. They won't keep for long," his mother added.

"I don't need any. I'm a lone wolf, and with tasks every day, I rarely cook at home. If Zhaoming has food, I have food; I often mooch off his meals. Did you know that?" Wu Zhengzhe laughed.

After eating lunch at their hometown, Zhengzhe and Chi Zhaoming returned to Dahe together. (Serializing)