Chapter 072: Ah Huang of the Fishery

This story is purely a work of fiction.

A light mist hovered over the calm surface of the fish pond, spiraling gently upward. The sky, shrouded in a haze of gray, reflected off the water. The sun ducked behind the clouds at times, occasionally peeking out with a mild, unhurried glow. The fishery was surrounded by open space, with nothing to block the wind. Chilly gusts swept intermittently toward Chi Minghe and Situ Kong, who were busy at the edge of the pond.

The wild grass around the fishery had already withered; all things lay dormant, resting peacefully in the earth’s embrace, awaiting the caress of spring.

Clad in work clothes, Chi Minghe was teaching Situ Kong how to harvest aquatic weeds. Chi Minghe was covered in the weeds, sweat trickling ceaselessly down his forehead.

Since it was the weekend, the fishery was short-handed; most of the staff were on holiday. The owner had also gone home to rest, leaving only Situ and Chi Minghe to tend to the chores.

Situ Kong helped wherever he could, making Chi Minghe’s work much easier.

The tasks at the fishery were relatively simple, with the main job being the harvesting of aquatic weeds to feed the fish. Since the property was quite large, the demand for weeds was substantial. The fishery had a tractor, used to transport the four workers to a site for cutting grass.

Situ Kong had thought that, after leaving his life as a vegetable vendor by the river, he could finally sleep in. But the fishery work was also bound by time, so early mornings became routine. Before dawn, the roar of the tractor’s engine signaled the start of the day. Though he was still up before the stars faded and the moon set, the anxiety of running his own business was gone—no more worrying about what goods to buy or how much he’d sold.

Situ Kong was an utterly inexperienced hand at fishery work. Each time they went to cut weeds, he was soon drenched in sweat. While others gathered piles of aquatic grass, his meager bundle on the ground looked almost invisible.

His uncle patiently taught him the tricks of the trade, and fortunately, Situ Kong was quick to learn. Before long, he was able to work independently.

It was autumn. The weeds along the banks had withered, so they could only rake aquatic grass from the river channels.

The fishery’s dog was named Ah Huang.

At night, Ah Huang was in charge of keeping watch, guarding against fish thieves. He patrolled the pond, his bushy tail wagging, scratching at the withered grass with his paws as if searching for food. Ever alert to the slightest movement, he was ready to attack any intruder to protect the pond for his masters.

One day, as Ah Huang stood on the embankment beside the pond, his keen eyes caught the sudden darting of a wild hare from its burrow nearby. Instantly, he sprang at it with the speed of a leopard.

He succeeded, seizing the hare in his jaws, tail swishing triumphantly as he bounded toward his masters, his expression one of pure pride, as if awaiting their praise.

Chi Minghe, who was spreading wheat for the fish, saw Ah Huang returning with the plump hare and his eyes lit up with delight. Shouting across to Situ Kong, who was tending another pond, he called, “Come take care of the hare Ah Huang caught! Let’s have some wild game for lunch and a few cups of spirits!”

Seeing the catch, Situ Kong put down his wheat and dashed over to Ah Huang. The dog wagged and strutted, clearly showing off his trophy. As Situ Kong bent to take the hare, Ah Huang circled it, as if checking whether it was truly dead or might still escape. Only when he saw that the hare didn’t move under Situ Kong’s touch did he finally relax and saunter off.

Chi Minghe asked Situ Kong to clean the hare, and in no time, it was neatly butchered into chunks—at least two pounds of fresh, tender meat. The prospect of wild game for lunch made Situ Kong’s mouth water. Wiping his lips, he set to cooking.

Smoke curled from the fishery’s kitchen as Situ Kong prepared the hare. The aroma of roasting wild meat soon filled the air, drawing Uncle Minghe from his work. Unable to resist, he dashed to the house, fetched two bottles of strong grain spirit his elder brother had brought from the river, and dusted them off. Opening a bottle, he sniffed at the mouth and exclaimed, “Ah, what a fragrance!”

Holding the bottle, Chi Minghe entered the kitchen and said to Situ Kong, “Today, just the two of us to enjoy this—doesn’t that feel great?”

“Of course. If the others were here, this little bit of wild meat wouldn’t be enough for all. Today we’re in luck!” The two laughed heartily together.

“Let’s cook a few African tilapia as well, and really treat ourselves!” Chi Minghe suggested.

“Alright, I’ll multitask—hare on one side, tilapia on the other. Give me ten minutes and we’ll be ready to start drinking,” Situ Kong replied, equally excited.

Chi Minghe set the table, placing two wine cups opposite each other. Situ Kong brought the wild meat to the table; the tilapia was ready too, filling a large bowl with thick, fragrant broth. The two men, weary from work, drank heartily.

Back in the village, under the autumn trees whose yellowed leaves carpeted the ground, Mingyue sat at her door, adding a touch of melancholy to the countryside.

“I wonder how Situ Kong is doing at the fishery—does he have enough clothes, is his quilt warm enough?” Mingyue asked her mother.

“The weather’s turning chilly. If you have nothing urgent, you should take him a thicker quilt and a few more clothes. The wind there is fierce and cold—don’t let him suffer,” her mother replied.

“I’ll go, then. I have nothing pressing at home, and soon I’ll be heading back to the river city for housekeeping work. Zhezhe found me a job—his friend has a small basement, cheap rent, seems like a good place to stay,” Mingyue told her mother. “I want to venture out. If I don’t make some money, life will only get harder.”

“True. There’s nothing for you to do at home, and Situ Cong can stay with me and go to the village school, just like your elder brother did. City schools are good, but lots of country kids get into top universities. The key is whether the child is cut out for studying,” her mother replied.

“Exactly. If our Situ Cong is meant for study, he’ll do just as well with you,” Mingyue agreed.

She gathered several sets of seasonal clothes for Situ Kong, packed a thick quilt into a large bag, and hurried to the roadside station to catch a bus to the county.

After a few rounds of drinks, Situ Kong and Chi Minghe were in high spirits, sharing their worries and heartaches as only two men with calloused hands can.

When Mingyue arrived at the fishery, she saw no one. Turning, she heard voices—drunken ramblings—coming from the kitchen. There she found her husband drinking with Chi Minghe.

Both men were surprised to see her. Situ asked, “What brings you to the fishery today?”

“It’s colder now, so I brought you some seasonal clothes and a thicker quilt,” Mingyue said, looking at her sun-darkened husband. When she saw that one bottle of liquor was already empty and a second one a third gone, she scolded, “You’ve finished one bottle already—save the rest for another day!”

Chi Minghe snatched the bottle from her hands, declaring, “Nonsense! If there’s wine today, drink it today—why wait for tomorrow? Out of the way!” He wagged a finger at his sister.

“Fine, have it your way, but Situ can’t drink anymore,” Mingyue said, turning to her husband. “If he wants to drink, that’s his business—you are definitely done.”

“I won’t drink, I won’t. Let him have his fill,” Situ said, then rose, cupping Mingyue’s wind-reddened cheeks in his hands. “Thank you for bringing me warm clothes and a quilt.” He kissed her.

“Watch yourself, this isn’t the place,” Mingyue said, embarrassed.

“I’ll get you a bowl of rice—you need to eat with all this food, so you can work well,” she said, heading to the stove.

Situ Kong took the bowl and ate heartily. Seeing him abstain, Chi Minghe lost much of his enthusiasm. “If you won’t drink, I’ll stop too. I’ll save the rest for next time,” he said, handing his bowl to Mingyue. “Give me some rice too, I’ll do as you say.”

“That’s right—listening to me is never wrong. Otherwise, all that wild meat would be wasted. Drink too much and you’ll just end up vomiting, understand?” Mingyue admonished.

Much of the food was still uneaten; the men had focused more on drinking. The tilapia stew had already gone cold.

Mingyue reheated the fish, set the bowls before the men, and urged, “Eat the soup while it’s hot.”

“You should have a bowl too, Mingyue. Fresh African tilapia is really delicious,” Chi Minghe said.

Mingyue sat at the corner of the table, sipping the fish soup, feeling warmth spread through her body.

After the meal, Mingyue and Situ discussed her plans to return to the river city. “Brother Zhe found me a job as a housekeeper—he thought it suited me,” she said.

“Go if you want. There’s nothing for you at home. If we don’t earn, life has no foundation. Try it out, and once you’re settled, I’ll come find you. We’ll have to rely on your parents to look after Situ Cong. We’re still young—if we don’t make money now, how will we get by?” Situ sighed deeply.

Each of them wore a shadow of worry on their faces. They all knew that a life fated for toil must labor ceaselessly for its own survival...

(To be continued)