Chapter Six: The Debt Is Settled

After the three siblings finished their meal, Xiaoshan ran outside, chasing the old hen all over the yard. Jing had helped her wash her face before they ate, but in no time, it was dirty again. Yet her laughter was pure and innocent—children of this era were easily content and knew how to find joy in a life of want. They could play like this the whole day.

Fang, graceful and diligent, quietly cleared the table. Every so often, she would touch her not-at-all plump stomach in worry. It had been a long time since they’d eaten meat, and unable to restrain herself, she’d eaten too much at once. Confused, she glanced at her brother, who was sitting outside smoking. For a moment, she was dazed—it seemed as if Jin had become an entirely different person, almost unrecognizable, as though he didn’t belong to this world. Yet from this seventeen-year-old youth, she now sensed a towering steadiness.

Lost in thought, she watched Jin flick his cigarette butt to the ground, stamp it out, and turn back into the house. He returned with something wrapped in newspaper, then moved the dining table outside. With a thump, he placed the newspaper bundle on the table, pulled a stool behind him, and gazed resolutely at the dirt road before the house.

Fang wiped the sweat from her forehead. “Jin, what are you doing?”

“We’re paying off the family debts,” Jin replied, unwrapping the newspaper. Nearby, Xiaoshan, still clutching the hen she’d tormented half to death, tossed it into the ditch and dashed over.

“Wow, is that money, brother? I’ve only seen this much on the accountant’s table in the village office.”

Fang’s eyes widened as well. “Where did you get all this money?” she asked, her face full of concern, her mind flooded with stories of boys her age from the village—someone ran off to the south and joined a biker gang, got caught, that sort of thing. She worried Jin’s money had come from trouble.

She rushed over to question him, and Jin had no choice but to patiently explain everything to his sister. It took a long time for Fang to grasp what stocks were, but once she did, she felt much more at ease.

And so, the three siblings sat at their doorstep, waiting for the villagers they owed to come by.

At the village entrance, Minguo had only just appeared when he was quickly surrounded by a group of villagers, led by the shrewish Fengxian, whose voice was louder and sharper than the speaker hanging by the entrance. She charged at him, ready to hit.

“Minguo, don’t your family have any shame? Pay back the money! You had meat for dinner without paying your debts. Just yesterday you were begging each of us for more time. And today, your son comes home with a string of pork. I went to your house to check, and that damned kid of yours almost beat me up. Today, you must pay me back! Eating meat while owing money—there’s got to be a limit to shamelessness! That’s right, Minguo, what am I supposed to say? The village has already been more than kind to your family!”

Under Fengxian’s incitement, the crowd turned on Minguo. Having recently brushed past death’s door, he saw things with new clarity. He braced himself and asked, “Is my son Jin home?”

“He’s back!” Fengxian yelled, relentless, her mouth running nonstop. “That little bastard almost hit me just now. You owe me for emotional damages, you motherless cur!”

Minguo’s expression turned the color of raw liver. For a moment, he wanted nothing more than to tear that foul woman’s mouth apart. People say a distant relative is not as good as a close neighbor, but what about her? After ten years as neighbors, when things were good she was full of sour remarks, and when things went bad, she wished nothing more than to stomp their family into the dirt forever.

But the villagers were angry, and he dared not provoke their wrath, swallowing his humiliation in silence. Worry for his son gnawing at him, he hurried home, a trail of cursing villagers at his heels.

Ten minutes later, a large crowd gathered in front of the Chai family’s earthen house, staring dumbfounded at the stack of bills on the table before Jin. None of them could believe their eyes; their faces burned as if they’d been slapped.

After a long moment, Jin looked up at them. “What’s owed to you will be repaid in full today. If I’m not mistaken, my father gave you IOUs years ago. Bring them here and I’ll pay them off.”

Minguo finally came to his senses and glanced at Fang, his face turning somber. “Jin, where did this money come from?”

Fang’s voice was tiny and uncertain. “Dad, your stocks…”

“Dad, I’ll explain later,” Jin quickly interrupted. The villagers before them were greedy—had the past years not taught them enough? If they found out the money came from selling stocks, he was sure they’d shamelessly demand the stock money as well.

Fang realized she’d spoken too hastily and quickly covered her mouth. Minguo gave Jin a knowing look but said nothing.

Fengxian, who had grown accustomed to lording it over their family for years, was clearly displeased to see them suddenly flush with so much cash, as though they were about to turn their fortunes around. With a sneer, she said, “Minguo, your son was gone for days—was he out robbing people? Are you not going to explain where this money came from? If it’s dirty, we don’t dare take it.”

Jin’s face darkened. He saw through these people at last. In his previous life, living until forty-six, the memory of the villagers’ contempt always stung. If only they’d shown a bit more kindness, his family’s fate might have been less tragic. But with time, he’d learned to let go.

Yet now, reborn and faced once more with their ugly faces, his rage roared like a young man’s blood. Brow furrowed, he slammed his palm on the pile of bills, seizing the moment.

“Explain? What do I owe you an explanation for? Even so, these muddled debts can’t be repaid so lightly. First, bring the IOUs. Second, you must apologize to my father and my family!”

The onlookers exploded in outrage—a family they’d trampled on for years now demanded apologies? The curses rose in a tide. Minguo, too, finally saw these villagers for who they were and stood silently aside.

For all their bluster, the villagers were nothing if not practical. Under Jin’s unyielding gaze, they eventually lowered their heads, apologized, and took their money.

Once everyone had left, Fengxian threw the family a scornful look, then strutted back to her own house like a hen with her tail in the air, evidently satisfied to have gotten what she wanted. Yet she was particularly curious how the family had suddenly come into such wealth. The old gossip began making her rounds, spreading rumors that the youngest Chai boy’s money couldn’t possibly be clean.

The family’s debts were finally settled, but Minguo couldn’t quite find peace. He pulled Jin aside and questioned him at length. It took another round of explanations before he understood, and the ordeal was finally behind them.

At last, the family had emerged from the storm. Though still not accepted by their neighbors, the mountain pressing down on them was finally lifted.