On the morning of the full-month celebration, Song Jinzhao arrived at the riverbank holding a sharpened, long wooden pole.
A woman washing clothes nearby nudged Elder Aunt Song with her laundry paddle.
"Isn't that your niece, Jinzhao?"
Elder Aunt Song straightened up and looked in the direction the woman pointed, her eyes widening slightly. "It is Jinzhao. What is she doing? Why is she going into the river?"
She threw down the clothes in her hands and ran over. "Jinzhao! Jinzhao!"
By the time Song Jinzhao heard the calls, she was already standing firm in the river water.
The surface reached about ten centimeters above her knees—not too deep.
Elder Aunt Song anxiously gestured for her to come out. "The water's deep and fast. Get out of there now!"
Song Jinzhao said, "I won't go to the middle. We're still short two fish for the noon feast."
Elder Aunt Song, afraid she'd be swept away, felt her temples throbbing with worry.
"Fish aren't that easy to catch. The river stones are all covered in moss. Don't slip and fall in."
A ray of sunlight shone on the river's surface, making it sparkle and shimmer with flecks of rosy light.
Song Jinzhao's eyes sharpened. Her right arm suddenly tensed, and the wooden pole in her hand shot into the water like an arrow.
Water splashed everywhere as a carp, pierced through its belly, struggled violently, its tail slapping against the pole with loud smacks.
Elder Aunt Song stared, dumbfounded, at the large carp impaled on the pole. It was longer than an arm and weighed at least five or six pounds.
Song Jinzhao removed the carp from the pole and threw it onto the grassy bank.
A quarter of an hour later, Song Jinzhao headed home carrying two carp.
The woman who had spoken earlier couldn't tear her eyes away from the fish on the pole. "Lihua, I never knew your Jinzhao was so skilled at catching fish too."
Elder Aunt Song gave an awkward smile and sat back down on the rock to continue washing clothes. "Oh, it's nothing special. That child is just bold."
She wished she hadn't gone over earlier; Jinzhao was probably laughing at her inwardly.
Before long, the whole village knew that Song Jinzhao had caught two large carp from the river that morning for the full-month feast.
As noon approached, Oldest Song and Second Song carried over the tables, chairs, and benches from their respective homes.
Originally planning for only two tables, Song Jinzhao considered that just the children from the three Song households alone numbered seven, plus others who might tag along for the feast. She decided to set up a separate table for them.
Fearing they might choke on fish bones, she didn't prepare fish for that table, adding an extra dish of fried crispy pork instead.
Old Man Song invited the village elders to perform the hair-shaving ritual for Song Anhao. The shaved-off birth hair was wrapped in red paper and placed by the head of the bed to ward off evil spirits.
The midwife looked at the smiling baby in the swaddling clothes and couldn't stop praising, "This child is so well-nourished, even sturdier than a full-term baby."
Old Lady Song placed Song Anhao into a wooden basin. Using a cypress branch dipped in water, she gently wiped his body while chanting, "Washing the baby brings prosperity to the household, filling the pig pens and granaries."
It signified a beautiful wish for the family to flourish with many descendants and bountiful harvests.
After the baby-washing ceremony, the dishes were served.
The men and women sat at separate tables, with the children at their own table.
Everyone's eyes swept over the dishes on the tables: steamed fish, sliced pork belly, red eggs, glutinous rice balls.
Such a fine feast was absolutely unmatched in the village.
Who could have imagined that in just over a month, the lives of the children from the third Song household could change so dramatically?
Their gazes turned to Song Jinzhao, who was holding the baby at the women's table.
This girl truly had capability. Whoever married her would have immense fortune.
A villager with a son of marrying age smiled and asked Old Man Song, "Jinzhao is fourteen this year and not yet betrothed, right?"
Old Man Song's hand, holding his wine cup, paused. His expression seemed somewhat unnatural. "Jinzhao is still young. There's no hurry for her to marry."
At the neighboring women's table, the village chief's wife leaned over and whispered to the village woman beside her.
"Daniu's Wife said that Song Jinzhao promised not to marry until her younger brother establishes his own household."
The village woman shook her head regretfully. "What a pity. Such a fine girl."
Song Qiming was ten. Waiting for him to start a family would take at least seven or eight years. By then, Song Jinzhao would be twenty-one, already considered an old maid. Who would still want to marry her?
Second Aunt Song felt anxious. She stole several glances at Song Jinzhao, worried she might hear this and start thinking about marriage.
She was counting on going up the mountain to pick mushrooms for money again next year. Jinzhao couldn't get married.
Song Jinzhao remained expressionless, leisurely feeding goat's milk to Song Anhao.
Thank goodness she had said those words back then, otherwise this would indeed be troublesome.
Getting betrothed at fourteen? When would she have to bear children then? Her bones weren't even fully developed yet.
All seven dishes on the tables were completely finished, and the villagers scrambled to take the red eggs home.
Before leaving after clearing away the tables and benches, Old Man Song called Song Jinzhao aside. "When you turn sixteen, we'll find a live-in son-in-law from the village. After Qiming starts his family, then you can separate from the household."
Song Jinzhao's mouth twitched, astonished by Old Man Song's idea.
She stated emphatically, "Grandfather, I absolutely will not marry before Qiming establishes his household. I have no time, nor any inclination for it."
Old Man Song studied the expression on Song Jinzhao's face and saw determination in her eyes as she spoke.
He sighed. "If you change your mind in a couple of years, tell your grandfather anytime. I'll definitely find you a good match."
Song Jinzhao pressed her lips together and shook her head helplessly. "Really, it's not necessary."
After the full-month feast, the villagers talked about Song Jinzhao for several days, only letting the matter rest once they were sure Old Man Song and Old Lady Song had no intention of marrying her off.
The ripe rice fields stretched out like a sea of crimson-gold waves, the rice ears rustling as the wind blew through them.
Song Jinzhao stood bent over in the field, her sickle hooking and pulling at the base of the rice stalks. Sweat beaded like pearls, sliding down her neck into her collar.
Why were there no harvesters here? How long would it take to cut all this with a sickle?!
Seeing her standing motionless and in a daze, Song Qiming spoke up, "Sister, hurry up and cut. Grandfather said it might rain in a couple of days. We need to finish harvesting and drying all the rice and millet in the fields before the rain comes."
Song Jinzhao swallowed hard, her bitterness unspeakable.
Before her transmigration, she was an orphan, but she had never done farm work.
Compared to farming, her part-time jobs back then were comfortable.
After just half a shichen, her back felt like it couldn't straighten anymore.
They worked until sunset, then had to haul the rice home on a cart for threshing.
Moonlight illuminated the earth as if millions of crescent-white lanterns had been lit.
The rhythmic thuds of beating rice stalks against the threshing frames rose and fell, echoing throughout Song Village.
Song Jinzhao worked until midnight. Her arms felt numb, as if they didn't belong to her.
Waking up the next morning, her back and arms ached, making it difficult even to hold the sickle.
One day, after finishing up, her shoulders slumped. Her voice was faint, and she lacked the strength to speak.
"Grandfather, working day and night is too exhausting. I want to hire someone to thresh the grain."
Old Man Song looked at her with disbelief. With so many able-bodied people in the family, they had never hired help before.
She was getting carried away now that she had earned some money.
He firmly objected, "No. Hiring people costs silver."
"If you can't manage, just leave it at home. After your uncles and I finish our work, we'll come help you."
Song Jinzhao shook her head. "Who knows how long it'll take for you to finish threshing? Didn't you say it might rain in a couple of days? If we don't thresh and dry it in time and it gets moldy, what then?"
Old Man Song still wouldn't agree. "Then we'll go to your place after midnight. All six of us working together will have it done in three hours."
Song Jinzhao's mouth was so dry he couldn't even muster saliva, his voice growing hoarse. "Grandpa, working twenty-two hours a day without rest will break a person's body. The money saved won't even cover the medicine."
Old Man Song insisted. "It's only for a few days. There will be plenty of time to rest after the autumn harvest."
Song Jinzhao could only sigh inwardly. Hardworking farmers who'd toiled their whole lives simply didn't know what it meant to enjoy life.
If they came to help after midnight, he couldn't very well just lie in bed pretending not to see. He'd have to get up and work alongside them.
By the time the autumn harvest ended, he'd be half-dead from exhaustion.
