The sunlight filtering through the vines gradually weakened. Song Jinzhao hoisted the bamboo basket onto her back and picked up the hemp sack filled with mushrooms. "Let's go home."
Stepping out of the low woods, the two of them took a deep breath. The forest interior had been oppressively heavy, making even breathing feel labored.
Song Jinzhao climbed onto a rock to survey the distant terrain, then jumped down and headed to the right.
Song Qiming keenly noticed this wasn't the path they had taken up the mountain. He blinked but said nothing, choosing to follow.
After about a quarter of an hour, Song Jinzhao spotted rabbit droppings on the ground, the surrounding footprints a chaotic mess.
In the distance came the gentle ding-dong sound of a stream. This place was near a water source, a necessary route for wild animals to drink.
"Your elder sister is going to dig a trap here. You can put down the basket and rest for a bit."
Song Qiming squatted on the ground, knees hugged to his chest, his eyes fixed intently on Song Jinzhao's every move, as if trying to etch every minute detail of her actions into his mind.
Once home, they emptied the mushrooms from the sack and basket, cleaned them, and spread them out on bamboo sieves to dry.
The trip to Xining City and back would take about four hours. To save time, Song Jinzhao planned to sell only dried mushrooms.
Song Shixue entered the room holding two newly made infant garments. "Elder Sister, I've finished the clothes for our little brother."
Song Jinzhao took the two small pieces of clothing, laid them out to look, and couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration.
"Shixue, you're truly skilled. These clothes look just like the ones sold in tailor shops."
A blush spread across Song Shixue's cheeks. She pressed her lips together, her hands fidgeting awkwardly, intertwined, utterly bashful.
"If Elder Sister likes them, I'll make clothes for you in the future too."
Looking at Song Shixue's faded, threadbare grey-brown short jacket, its wide sleeves hanging over her hands...
This fabric was originally from their birth mother's wedding clothes, later altered. It was already fifteen years old, washed so many times it had become thin as paper.
The household lacked everything. She needed to start earning money quickly.
The next day, after gathering mushrooms and heading down the mountain, Song Qiming spotted from afar the leaves used to camouflage the trap scattered around, revealing the dark opening.
He hurried over to check.
A small white kid goat was curled up at the bottom of the pit, its hind leg cut by a wooden spike. Seeing someone approach, it startled and let out a frightened "baa."
"Elder Sister, it's a little goat."
Song Jinzhao lifted the goat out of the pit. It stood less than knee-high, all skin and bones with hardly any meat on it, probably not even a month old.
The kid's hooves seemed nailed to the ground, its scrawny body frozen in place, trembling incessantly.
Meeting its pure, sorrowful round eyes, Song Qiming felt a pang of pity. He looked up and asked, "Elder Sister, are we really going to kill it?"
Song Jinzhao glanced sideways at the wound on the goat's leg—just a scrape. It would live.
"We won't kill it for now. We'll raise it, and kill it when it's bigger."
After re-camouflaging the trap, Song Qiming happily picked up the little kid and carried it home.
Passing by a bamboo grove, Song Jinzhao cut down several sturdy bamboo poles to build a pen.
The two of them were busy working in the yard when, before long, they saw Song Shixue returning, carrying Song Anhao, with Tudan's Mother walking alongside her.
Song Jinzhao looked up, a bit puzzled.
Their eyes met. Tudan's Mother's eyelids fluttered twice. She lowered her gaze, then raised it again, the smile curling her lips seeming somewhat stiff, not quite a smile.
"Jinzhao, there's something I need to discuss with you."
Song Jinzhao stood up, brushed the dust from her hands, and invited the woman into the house.
Tudan's Mother sat restlessly on the stool, not even daring to meet Song Jinzhao's eyes. The copper coins clenched in her palm were thoroughly soaked with sweat, becoming damp and sticky.
Song Jinzhao wondered if the woman was thinking of raising her price. Two coins a day was undoubtedly a high rate in Song Village.
"Auntie, please speak your mind," Song Jinzhao said.
Tudan's Mother rubbed her hands repeatedly on her thighs, trying to wipe away the sweat.
"Master Zhao has adopted a newborn child from the neighboring village and wants to hire me as a wet nurse for his household. I start at the Zhao residence tomorrow, so I won't be able to feed your brother anymore."
"The wages Master Zhao offered are simply too good to refuse. Here are the ten coins you had Shixue bring me yesterday."
Song Jinzhao's brow furrowed slightly; she hadn't anticipated this reason.
Song Qiming, who had been standing outside the door, threw the fresh grass in his hand to the ground and rushed in. He confronted Tudan's Mother loudly, his eyes filled with both hurt and anger.
"How can you go back on your word, Auntie!"
Being questioned by a child stirred some displeasure in Tudan's Mother. She glared at Song Qiming without a word.
Who wouldn't take the higher pay? If you can match it, then do so.
Song Jinzhao took eight coins from the table, leaving two and pushing them back.
"This is for today's milk. Our transaction is settled. Please don't feel you owe us anything, Auntie. Thank you for feeding Anhao these past few days."
Tudan's Mother turned her head in surprise. She hadn't expected Song Jinzhao to be not only unruffled but calm and composed, handling it like a business matter and saving her face.
In the end, she didn't take the two coins. As she left, she tossed out a suggestion: "There must be a woman who recently gave birth in the neighboring village. You could ask which family Master Zhao adopted the child from. That child's mother would surely have milk."
Song Qiming and Song Shixue stood with their heads bowed, shoulders slumped, their dejection almost palpable.
Going to the neighboring village and back would take at least half an hour each way. They couldn't very well stay at someone else's house all day.
"Goo-goo ga-ga."
Hearing the sound, Song Jinzhao walked into the inner room. There lay Song Anhao on the bed, kicking his little legs, his mouth curved into a heart-shaped smile, adorable enough to melt one's heart.
A baby's skin is the most tender and fair. Well-fed these past days, he was as plump and round as a freshly steamed bun.
In the courtyard, the kid goat's weak, continuous bleating seemed to be calling for something.
If the kid fell into the trap, the mother goat can't have gone far.
If there's no breast milk, then there's always goat's milk.
...
In the old house's courtyard, Old Man Song was cleaning his farming tools when he looked up and saw Song Jinzhao approaching.
"Grandfather, I need to go into the mountains tonight. Qiming and Shixue are still young, and I worry they might be scared alone in the dark. I was hoping Grandmother could stay at our place for the night."
Old Man Song set down his hoe, frowning and squinting, his tone serious and his voice raised.
"Going up the mountain after dark is most dangerous. What for?"
Inside the house, Elder Aunt Song paused her work and pricked up her ears.
"Master Zhao hired Tudan's Mother as a wet nurse for his household. Anhao won't have any milk to drink from now on."
"A kid goat fell into the trap I dug today. I want to catch the mother goat to milk her for Anhao."
Old Man Song disagreed. "Wait for daylight to go catch it. There's no rush for one night."
Song Jinzhao explained, "If we wait another night, I'm afraid she might wander too far and we won't find her."
Old Man Song's furrowed brows resembled a small mountain range. After a tense standoff, he reluctantly gave in. "I'm not comfortable with you going up the mountain alone after dark. Have your eldest uncle go with you."
Song Jinzhao said, "There's no need. I'm very familiar with the area. It's not dangerous."
Old Man Song insisted, refusing to agree. He turned and called for his eldest son to come out.
Oldest Song ambled out of the house, his eyes shifting uneasily. He hunched his shoulders, trying to make himself as small as possible, his voice so faint it seemed it could be carried away by the wind.
"Father, the mountains are full of wolves and tigers after dark. It's too dangerous."
Old Man Song's eyes blazed with anger, the veins on his neck bulging with each heavy breath. "Useless! Song Jinzhao isn't afraid, so what are you scared of? Go, now!"
With no other choice, Oldest Song went to the woodshed to fetch a blade. When he returned, he noticed Song Jinzhao was empty-handed. "Aren't you taking a weapon?"
Seeing his clear reluctance and his loose, careless steps, Song Jinzhao thought he would likely be more of a hindrance than a help if real danger arose.
She turned to look at Old Man Song and found his gaze now resembled a deep, century-old pool, sedimented with the weight of too many years.
Realizing there was no room for further negotiation on this matter, Song Jinzhao had no choice but to nod and agree to take Oldest Song along.
