Chapter 3: Reading?
As soon as night fell, his little sister pulled Wang Wei’s hand and climbed onto the kang in the main room to rest.
In those days, especially in a place like Qingshui Village, there was hardly any nightlife after dark.
Once dusk came, everyone would go up onto the kang to save oil and conserve energy. Some families might light lamps at night to do some work, but theirs certainly did not.
He recalled his mother sewing patches with crooked stitches that looked like centipedes crawling, and the patches were hard and scratchy against the skin. His eldest sister-in-law was no better; neither she nor his mother could manage delicate handiwork.
Wang Wei—now to be called Wang Sanniu—shared a thin patched quilt with his sister Huniu. She quickly fell asleep, breathing deeply and warmly, one sturdy little arm unceremoniously pressing against his chest, heavy and unyielding.
The Wang family’s adobe house had four rooms in total.
His second brother, Wang Ernniu, lived in one; his eldest brother, Wang Danniu, his wife Liu, and their dog lived in another; a third room was stuffed with farming tools and miscellaneous items;
the last, largest room was where their parents lived with him and Huniu. The kitchen and woodshed were on the other side of the courtyard, made of thatch and some adobe.
At his age, he should have been living with his second brother, but their parents worried about his frail health and kept him and Huniu in their room.
The night grew deep. The courtyard was silent except for the faint chirping of autumn insects, soon drowned out by louder sounds.
Snore—snore!
Snore—snore!
The thunderous snores first came through the earthen wall from the second brother’s room, followed closely by the sounds from the eldest brother and sister-in-law’s room.
The eldest brother’s snores were like a breaking bellows, rising and falling, while the sister-in-law’s were sharper. The two sounds competed in the quiet night, making even the papered windows tremble slightly.
Wang Wei couldn’t help but marvel that the family’s snores were as large as their physiques and strength.
He closed his eyes, his body exhausted, but his mind was unusually clear, sifting repeatedly through the meager and hazy memories of “Wang Sanniu.”
There were too few memories, too vague.
The younger Wang Sanniu’s world was basically confined to this small Qingshui Village. His weak body was an invisible shackle, locking him to the edge of the kang or to sunny corners of the courtyard.
The only time he had traveled afar was when their parents carried him to the county or prefectural town to see a doctor.
He remembered the high city walls... the majestic towers... the streets crowded with people and noisy hawkers—the scene had left a huge impression on his young mind. He thought the prefectural town was called “Chang’an Prefecture”? The county seat was “Xianning”?
These names echoed repeatedly in his parents’ voices as they asked for directions.
Chang’an... Xianning... Wang Sanniu felt these names were familiar, sounding like ancient Shaanxi. But what dynasty was this? Tang? Han?
Yet tonight’s dinner had clearly included corn cobs—something introduced from the Americas only after the Ming Dynasty and widely cultivated in the Qing.
And his father, eldest brother, and second brother all tied their hair back and dressed in a way that did not resemble the Qing dynasty depicted in textbooks from his former life.
What dynasty was this, then? His mind was a chaotic mess; he resolved to find out more when he had the chance.
As these jumbled thoughts filled his head, his mother, who had been lying beside him all along, suddenly spoke.
“Husband.” Her voice was low but unusually clear in the snoring night.
His father made no reply, either asleep or unwilling to respond.
After a moment’s wait and no answer, she grew impatient and jabbed his father’s back several times, the thuds ringing distinctly.
“Wang Jinbao! I’m talking to you! Did you hear me?” Her voice rose, tinged with the frustration of being ignored.
“Mm... what is it?” His father finally grunted, heavy with sleep and annoyance at being disturbed.
“I say...” Her voice dropped again, but with unwavering seriousness, “what if we sent Sanniu to school?”
Hearing this, Wang Wei’s whole body tensed; his ears perked up sharply.
The other side of the kang fell silent for a long while. Wang Sanniu could feel his father turning over, probably facing towards his mother.
“School?” His father’s voice grew clearer, yet full of doubt, “That boy? So fragile he’s like a breeze away from collapse? Think he can make it?”
“Precisely because he’s so weak!” His mother’s voice became urgent and anxious.
“Sanniu’s health still hasn’t improved. We’re peasants, living off the land, doing hard labor. What work can he possibly manage? While we still have the strength to support him, what will he rely on when we’re old and can’t work? Starve?”
She paused, catching her breath, then spoke lower and more determined:
“I want to grit my teeth and send him to school! A few years of study, learning to read some words, understanding some principles, so he can find a job as a clerk in town! No more wind and sun beating down, no competing with the dirt—just enough to support himself!
This... this is the best and most decent path I, as his mother, can think of for him!”
Silence fell again. After a long pause, his father sighed heavily, the sound like a stone dropping to the ground.
“School? You say it so easily. What about the teacher’s fee? The pens, ink, paper, inkstone? None of those are free.”
His father’s voice was low and heavy.
“Have you forgotten? Because of Sanniu’s medicines, the eldest daughter-in-law is already watching every copper coin closely! And Ernniu is nearly of marriageable age, with the bride price still floating in the air!
If we look for another wife with a temper like the eldest daughter-in-law’s, always slamming doors and scolding, how could we live?”
His mother was silent. Wang Wei could imagine her biting her lip, frowning deeply. He lay in bed, fingers unconsciously clutching the rough reed mat beneath him.
After a long time, his mother spoke again, her voice filled with deep fatigue and a barely concealed sob:
“What... what else can we do? Sons and daughters are all flesh and blood, but Sanniu... he’s different from the eldest, the second, and Huniu!
Husband, think about it: those three, which one isn’t strong as a young calf? No matter how hard life is, they have the strength to work the fields, carry sacks at the granary—they’ll never starve! But Sanniu? What about him?”
Her voice trembled, as if recalling something that made her even more emotional:
“It’s all my fault! If only I hadn’t rushed to see the doctor when I was pregnant with him, if I hadn’t stumbled on the mountain path... he wouldn’t have been born prematurely and left with this lifetime of illness... It’s my failing as a mother! *Sob*...”
Her suppressed sobs whispered quietly.
“Ah...”
His father sighed deeply and long, filled with resignation and a heavy helplessness.
“All right, all right... don’t cry... I’ll think about this carefully.”
He turned over, back to her, leaving only a broad, silent silhouette. The message was clear: the subject was closed.
“Think about it carefully…”
His mother repeated softly, as if weighing the words, then fell silent again, her quiet sobbing lingering a while longer before fading away.
The room fell completely silent, the only sound the rhythmic snoring.
Wang Sanniu lay motionless in the dark, his face cold and wet with tears that had silently streamed down for a long time, soaking the coarse pillow.
The original owner of this body had probably heard his mother say similar things before but was too young and confused to understand, only vaguely sensing he was a burden to the family.
Even the eldest sister-in-law, Liu, was often harsh with him, her words laced with criticism, yet he never truly resented her, feeling instead an inexplicable guilt.
Indeed, who could be without grievance when hard-earned money was poured day after day into the bottomless pit of medicine?
The eldest sister-in-law was just blunt and could not hide her feelings—she said whatever was on her mind.
But just now, his mother’s words, “It’s my failing as a mother,” and the heavy sobs...
It was like a red-hot branding iron searing Wang Sanniu’s heart.
Not the vague guilt of the original owner, but the instant understanding of a modern soul—a man in his twenties—who grasped the fierce determination behind that motherly love: a desperate, unwavering resolve to carve out a path of life for her frail son, no matter what!
This weight, this burning passion, made him feel, for the first time in this utterly unfamiliar world, the profound significance of the word “mother.”
In his former life, he had graduated from a top university’s architecture department.
But fate was cruel; just out of school, he had hit a harsh winter in the construction industry, his resume swallowed by silence.
His parents had also fretted over his future, their hair graying with worry. In the end, with no other choice, he had reluctantly taken a low-level construction job.
Even that had been difficult to obtain. Then, after only a short time, one night while going to the bathroom, he took a wrong turn and was struck by a falling “iced tea” from a tower crane, landing him in this unknown era as a five-year-old sickly child.
A fierce flame of mingled resentment, frustration, and an even stronger yearning suddenly blazed inside him, burning him hot all over!
Study!
This might be his only way out! The only chance to truly repay the parents of this body, to repay that weighty motherly love!
“Father... Mother...” he silently cried out in his heart, his throat tight, “If I truly have this chance... I will... fight with all I have to hold on!”