When Lu Yang and the others came to stay, the house didn’t have extra quilts for Lu Liu to lean against.
Chen Guizhi wrapped two stacked straw mats in sheets and covered them with another quilt, letting Lu Liu try it—high enough and firm enough for support.
Seeing that Lu Liu hadn’t given birth yet, Lu Yang went to the county the next day and bought three more quilts.
Lu Liu protested, “You don’t need to go to such trouble—so cold outside, and you go all that way…”
Lu Yang told him not to speak nonsense: “If it can be done, it should be done right. Li Feng isn’t home now; we have to take good care of you.”
Mentioning Li Feng made Lu Liu feel a little down. According to their usual schedule in the prefectural city, this time he wouldn’t return until after the Laba Festival.
After arranging the quilts, Lu Yang helped him settle on the kang, letting him lean and adjust until comfortable. “Don’t worry about that silly man. I’ll stay with you. Men aren’t allowed in the delivery room anyway—they’ll just shout from outside. Just imagine he’s waiting at the door.”
Lu Liu smiled. “I know. I won’t think too much. If everything goes smoothly here, he’ll be happy when he comes back.”
He hadn’t been able to sit long before needing to use the latrine.
After all the coming and going over the past few days, he felt something sliding down inside him—a strange sensation, as if going to the bathroom mirrored childbirth: a smooth, sudden motion.
He told Lu Yang, who would rub his belly and speak to the yet-unseen little ones: “Listen, be sensible and come out quickly.”
Lu Liu chatted along with him, asking, “Brother, when the babies are in the womb, can they hear us? I can read and write—will they be influenced to love learning?”
Lu Yang didn’t know. Many of his own early memories were vague; only a few stood out. He couldn’t recall anything from when he was in his father’s womb.
To comfort his brother, he said, “They’ll be influenced. Maybe they won’t remember, but after birth, they’ll be drawn to familiar things—like reading.”
Lu Liu thought seriously. “Then I’ll continue—that’s leading by example.”
Lu Yang asked, “Decided? Both children should read?”
Lu Liu said yes. “I’ve calculated with Da Feng; we can afford it. Whether they become prodigies can wait—our duty is just to provide what we can.”
The brothers sat together, discussing how they would raise the children even before they were born—planning how to feed and educate them, what to do at each age, what opportunities to give them as they grew.
“Make sure they eat well and stay warm, no hunger or cold. The house can afford better living, but Da Feng says softness won’t make them capable, and our mother says children need resilience. I just make sure they’re well-fed, clothed, and healthy. Education-wise, I’ll guide them in reading and basic learning, and by the time they go to school, they’ll adjust quickly.
“Da Feng has elk sinew—he’ll make a slingshot for each child. When they’re older, we can take them outdoors. Children are lively; they’ll love playing. Even if there’s no convenient mountain near the city, we can go out of town—there are villages and rivers. Luckily, Sanshui County isn’t far, so going home is easy.”
Lu Yang listened as Lu Liu rambled, his mind drifting.
He wondered how their father felt when the children were in the womb, what thoughts he had. With the household still poor when they grew up, acquiring anything could empty the family coffers. Facing the imminent birth of two children, did he feel more fear than joy?
As Lu Liu neared childbirth, someone needed to stay with him at night. These days, Chen Guizhi accompanied him.
At night, Lu Liu wanted to ask what signs appeared before labor.
“Mother, I feel like I’m going to give birth, but every time it’s just the urge to use the latrine—nothing more.”
Chen Guizhi said that’s about the extent of pre-labor reactions: days in advance, there would be abdominal pain, heaviness, lower back ache, the baby feeling ready to come, yet still not emerging. With a limited space in the belly, moving around is difficult.
“Don’t worry. This child is fine. You’re no worse than Mr. Yao when he delivered; he went smoothly, and you will too.”
Lu Liu closed his eyes, resting while he felt comfortable.
Later, Lu Yang asked Zhao Peilan about what pregnancy felt like.
“Mother, was it hard when you were pregnant with Ayan?”
Zhao Peilan had partly forgotten—it was many years ago. She only remembered that childbirth was painful.
“My belly didn’t show until five or six months. I wasn’t very uncomfortable during pregnancy. But labor lasted a long time—over three watches. The pain made me faint and then wake up again. Afterward, I slept for a long time. When I woke, my husband brought the child for me to see. For a while, I was dazed; once alert, I only remembered the pain, not its extent.”
She added, “Ayan was a quiet child, always still. When people thought he was sick, it was like a newborn not crying. We feared he might suffocate, so we’d spank him when he cried. How could any parent endure that? We took him to a doctor, who said he was fine. That’s how he grew up—quiet by nature.”
Lu Yang, initially anxious, was relieved and even laughed.
“Did Ayan know he was spanked as a baby?”
Zhao Peilan shook her head. “We didn’t tell him.”
Lu Yang laughed again, thinking of Xie Yan’s changes over the years. He felt a pang of emotion: “He’s not quiet like that anymore.”
Zhao Peilan smiled. “That’s good—always quiet isn’t lively.”
Mother and son chatted a while longer before going to sleep.
The first snow fell, then two sunny days, followed by overcast skies.
December arrived, the New Year approaching. Many in the village paired up to go to the county market.
Having a small shop reduced some purchases, but year-end items—couplets, lucky characters, wedding decorations, wrinkled red paper flowers, or cloth for new clothes—were not available at the shop.
After a busy year, people wanted to enjoy the festivities and the market, often traveling in small groups to share rides. The gatherings were lively.
This year, Lu Liu didn’t go to the market, nor did Chen Jiu.
Mr. Yao’s child was born in mid-October; he stayed in confinement for over half a month. By early December, snow had blocked him at home. His mother scolded him about exposure to cold; Da Qiang promised to take him to the county after the New Year, so he restrained his excitement and came to visit Lu Liu.
Lu Liu was disappointed: “I wanted to see him—I haven’t even seen him yet.”
Yuan Yuan was too small; at the full-month celebration, only close relatives ate, and Lu Liu was given a small dish, not invited to join.
Mr. Yao said, “He sleeps all day—there’s nothing to see. Soon, you’ll have two children of your own. Both eyes full of viewing!”
Lu Yang made them pear soup—sweet and warm—and brought some roasted rice cakes.
This year, the village had made rice cakes through a collaboration with the rice shop. Li Feng and the others were away; the work was handled by San Miao, who went to the county to buy glutinous rice and sent it back. He and a few people made the rice cakes, which were then delivered to Chen Guizhi to use. Their household didn’t provide labor this year, so they got a portion of the cakes to eat.
