Chapter 2: The Pitiful Su Family

During a mission to find wild plants, an unexpected flood struck. When he awoke, he found himself inside Mrs. Su. Upon birth, he came out as an eight-month premature infant.

Alas! He had worked so hard to save money, yet before he could spend it, his life was cut short. Fortunately, as an orphan, his savings were entrusted to the state, a way to repay the country for raising him.

Having lingered for some time, he knew he must return, lest his mother come searching. Sun Shan brushed the dust from his clothes and rose to go back.

“Shanzi, where are you? Come home, it’s time to eat,” Mrs. Su called out. She never understood why her son preferred wandering alone and often worried, so she prepared meals quickly and went to find him.

“Mother, I’m here,” he replied. Sure enough, she had come looking for him.

Sun Shan had grown used to the fact that if he was out of sight even briefly, his mother would fret for a long time.

Alas, he was her only son—the sole hope and support for the Sun family’s standing.

Mrs. Su’s life was a tale of hardship. After bearing four daughters, she finally gave birth to a son. But he was premature and frail, sustained only by medicine. Now five years old, he had barely grown strong enough to stand, which was why she allowed him to play alone.

She quickly approached, taking Sun Shan’s hand gently. “You always like playing by yourself all day, and now it’s almost dark—you don’t even think to come home.” Her worry was genuine.

Suddenly, she touched his thick cotton jacket. Yes, it was warm enough; he wouldn’t catch a chill.

The mother and son walked along the muddy country path. Before long, they spotted a man ahead.

“Husband, you’re out too?” Mrs. Su was puzzled. Wasn’t her husband arranging the table at home? Today was the winter solstice, when the second and third brothers and their families would join for dinner.

Sun Bo Min scratched his head and smiled earnestly. “Seeing Shanzi gone so long, I thought you hadn’t found him.”

Relieved to see his son with Mrs. Su, he crouched down, lifted Sun Shan, gently touched his forehead, and pretended to scold him, “You, it’s so cold and you’re still out playing.”

This son of his was unlike other children—quiet and solitary, more like an old soul trapped in a child’s body.

Sun Shan blushed, feeling guilty. “Father, it’s my fault for worrying you.” He embraced his father’s neck and fell silent.

Sun Shan understood well that he was not only the foundation for Mrs. Su’s standing in the Sun family but also the source of Sun Bo Min’s dignity in the village—the reason he could hold his head high and offer incense at the ancestral hall without shame.

His wife had borne four daughters, becoming a subject of village gossip.

When Mrs. Su had her fourth daughter, Sun Bo Min’s faint conscience had been the only thing stopping him from divorcing her and remarrying.

Thankfully, the fifth child was a son, averting the tragedy of being sent away.

As night fell, the three finally arrived home.

“Grandma, I’m back,” Sun Bo Min said as he stepped inside. Sun Shan jumped down and hurried across the courtyard to the main room.

Grandmother Huang was already seated at the head of the table. Seeing her precious grandson return, she touched his cheek and hand to make sure he was warm, finally relaxing. It was freezing outside, but her little grandson loved wandering.

With a tender voice, she said, “You, it’s cold outside—you should know to come home.”

She pulled Sun Shan onto a low stool near the charcoal fire. The old woman couldn’t bear the cold; Mrs. Su had already stoked the fire.

Sun Bo Min arranged the unplaced chairs and tables: one table for men, another for women, seating them separately.

Glancing at the darkened sky, he expected the second and third brothers to arrive soon.

Sure enough, just as he thought, they appeared.

“Big brother, I’m here,” a cheerful male voice called from outside. The rural household never locked its door; people came and went freely. Soon, the main room filled with a crowd so dense that Sun Shan felt dizzy.

Grandmother Huang, Sun Shan’s grandmother, had lost her husband years ago and bore three sons and two daughters.

The eldest daughter, Chunlan, 36, married into the He family in the provincial capital of Guangnan, with four sons.

The eldest son, and Sun Shan’s father, Bo Min, 34, married Mrs. Su from Huling Mountain Village and had four daughters and one son.

Their children were: eldest daughter Guyu, 14; second daughter Lixia, 12; third daughter Xiaoman, 9; fourth daughter Hanlu, 8; and youngest son Sun Shan, 5.

The second son, Zhongli, 32, married Jiang from the neighboring town, with two sons and one daughter: eldest son Dingming, 13; second son Dingqing, 11; and daughter Xiaoxue, 9.

The third son, Shuwen, 28, married Zheng from the neighboring village, with three sons: eldest Dingguang, 10; second Dingyong, 8; and youngest Dingde, 6.

The youngest daughter, Chunqiao, 25, married Zhou Erlang from the county outskirts, with a son and daughter: eldest Zhou Dabao, 7; youngest Zhou Miaomiao, 5.

Sun Shan took a long time to learn the names and faces of his many older siblings, but whenever a crowd flooded the house, he felt overwhelmed—this family was prolific beyond measure, with children and grandchildren stretching endlessly.

“Mother, I’m back,” came a familiar voice—surely the third uncle.

Next to him was the second uncle.

The two brothers were polar opposites. The second uncle, like their father, was an honest and simple farmer, while the third uncle was a slick talker, fond of bragging endlessly. Out of ten things he said, believing even one was giving him generous credit.

Seeing his uncles, Sun Shan stood and greeted them and their wives, then said hello to his brothers and sisters. He settled back down by Grandmother Huang’s feet, warming himself by the fire. Once away from the warmth, he felt the chill, so he stayed close.

Grandmother Huang smiled warmly at her crowded family, her love shining through. “Sit, the meal is almost ready.” She pulled her grandchildren close to the fire.

“I’m going to help in the kitchen,” chirped the third aunt, then walked toward the kitchen.

The second aunt had already gone silently to help the other sisters-in-law after calling out to Grandma.

With so many family members, relying on the eldest sisters-in-law and the girls would not be enough. They needed to hurry and prepare the meal.

Soon, the aroma of food wafted through the house.

Mrs. Su, accompanied by two sisters-in-law and the four daughters, brought out the dishes.

The winter solstice dinner was abundant.

A large pot of bone broth with lotus root, after which the lotus root was taken out and stir-fried with garlic and scallions to create a fragrant dish.

Next came a white-cut chicken—the very chicken used for the ancestor and deity offerings that day—simply prepared with ginger and scallions to preserve its original flavor, looking utterly appetizing.

Then, a steamed catfish weighing twelve pounds, purchased by Sun Bo Min at the town market that morning.

The final dish was stir-fried pork with greens.

Alongside a large pot of sweet potato rice.

Though a family of over a dozen might find four dishes and a soup meager, in Sun village this was a feast, and the portions were ample enough for everyone.

The third uncle’s youngest son, Dingde, drooled and stared eagerly at the dishes. “Grandma, I’m hungry, can I eat now?” His eyes darted about, but he dared not reach out before Grandma moved the chopsticks, fearful of being scolded by his parents.

The women and girls sat together at one table, while Grandmother Huang sat with Sun Shan and the men at another. The women’s portions were noticeably smaller.

Grandmother Huang saw that everyone had arrived and the dishes were all served.

She picked up a piece of lotus root with her chopsticks and said, “Eat.”

Everyone had been waiting for this signal. Whether adult or child, they immediately raised their chopsticks toward the plate of succulent chicken.

White-cut chicken was a rare treat, reserved for holidays and celebrations, and much coveted.

Sun Shan sipped the lotus root soup first. Mrs. Su had seasoned it lightly with pepper and scallions, its delicate flavor warming the stomach—perfect for winter.

Bowing his head and then raising it, Sun Shan found his large bowl had been filled with pieces of chicken and pork.

No doubt, Grandmother Huang had served him.

Of all the grandchildren, Grandmother Huang favored Sun Shan most. He was the youngest and the long-awaited son of the eldest son’s household.

Moreover, Grandmother Huang shared a deep bond with her eldest daughter and son, relying on them both to support the family after the patriarch’s death.

Having endured hardship together, their affection was strongest.

Her love extended to Sun Shan in full measure; whenever there was something delicious, the first thought was always of her little grandson.