Tonight, they made do as best they could.
Li Feng still wanted to stay with Lu Liu. Looking around the house, he realized for the first time how small it actually was.
After washing up and tidying, Li Feng went back to the room. Seeing Lu Liu asleep, he said nothing, took his blanket, and quietly left.
Lu Yang and Wang Fengnian entered the room, moving gently so as not to disturb anyone.
Though Lu Yang had been home many times, he had never slept next to his father before. He thought for a moment, then laid a blanket beside the little baby and watched him sleep.
Wang Fengnian glanced at the kang and settled beside Lu Liu.
They turned off the lights, and the room became calm, almost unnaturally quiet.
Lu Yang couldn’t sleep, his mind racing with thoughts.
Carrying twins, what had it been like when their father was expecting? The family had been so poor. He must have eaten poorly, a thin, frail body supporting a swollen belly.
Even with the big belly, he still had to work. Stop working, and they would starve. Poor families struggled to survive winter. If a child was born then, life went on, and with spring, there was hope. But if birth didn’t happen in winter, how did they survive?
When a son was expected, every household celebrated. Had his father ever shown joy or worry for their own father when he carried twins? Lu Yang didn’t know. Judging by Li the midwife’s actions and what he had seen, he assumed they hoped for a son. A boy meant more hands to help, enduring hardships for ten-plus years, eventually coming out ahead, with hope for the future.
They delivered a little brother first—hardly counted as a full addition to the family’s labor. Their hopes were shattered. When told there was another child, hope flared again for the second birth. The second child, too, was a little brother. After so much effort, both children were boys.
He had heard stories: families who consecutively birthed only girls, no sons, were considered unlucky, and it could affect their business. Had his parents faced such scolding? Did they scrape together the little money they had for the midwife’s fee?
Lost in thought, he heard Lu Liu calling. He rose quickly, groped for the table, and lit the oil lamp.
Wang Fengnian also sat up, putting on a cotton jacket, and asked Lu Liu, “Do you need to use the chamber pot?”
“Yes,” Lu Liu replied.
Lu Yang helped, and father and son together supported Lu Liu down from the kang.
Lu Yang worried about him moving too much, but Wang Fengnian said, “He’s rested and there’s no harm. Moving around helps recovery.”
Lu Yang looked at him, unsure whether to trust him. Perhaps he was right; moving does help. Or perhaps it was just an excuse, since there was work to be done and no chance to rest, so he was told to move.
Wang Fengnian didn’t know Lu Yang’s thoughts, nor could he read his expression. He said, “Afterward, we’ll need to wash Lu Liu’s body. Go check the stove for hot water?”
Lu Yang helped Lu Liu onto the chamber pot, then went to fetch water.
The hall was lit, the front door open. Two other rooms had people coming out—Chen Guizhi and Li Feng.
Lu Yang said, “It’s nothing serious. I’m getting water to help Lu Liu clean up.”
Chen Guizhi asked, “Should I sleep in the same room tonight to help care for him?”
Lu Yang smiled. “No need. It’s rare we stay in the same room. You shouldn’t miss out on holding the grandsons.”
Chen Guizhi followed, telling Li Feng to return to his room: “It’s not convenient for you to come over.”
Li Feng thought for a moment, then went to the stove room. He asked Lu Yang, “Is Lu Liu hungry? He only ate half a bowl of porridge tonight. I’ve kept a pot of clay-jar porridge warm in the stove. If he’s hungry, I can serve it.”
Lu Yang fetched the water. Li Feng carried it to the door; Lu Yang stopped him from going further.
“Have some empathy. Giving birth leaves no dignity at all,” Lu Yang said.
Li Feng lingered in the hall, listening.
Entering the room, Lu Yang asked Lu Liu if he was hungry. He nodded, and Lu Yang sent Li Feng to serve him porridge.
For cleaning, Lu Yang had no experience, so he asked Wang Fengnian to help.
Lu Liu lay on the kang, covering his face with a pillow, waiting for the cleaning to finish. When it was done, he removed the pillow, skipping any conversation about it.
Lu Yang changed the water, wiped his face, washed his hands, and helped him sit up to eat porridge.
All three glanced periodically at the twins—they slept soundly.
Lu Yang asked, “Why not use the wool sleep sacks?”
“The wool smells. Mother said we’ll use them after the full month,” Lu Liu replied.
His voice was weak. Lu Yang didn’t press him, letting him eat quietly. After finishing the bowl, he helped him lie back down.
His body still ached, and it took a while to fully relax and adapt to the pain.
Sweating again, Wang Fengnian wiped him with a cotton cloth.
“This season is tough. Clothes are hard to wash, and so are diapers,” Lu Liu said.
Lu Yang tucked the blanket, saying, “Let Li Feng handle it.”
Lu Liu chuckled. “He’ll get teased.”
“Afraid of teasing isn’t being a good man,” Lu Yang replied.
Lu Liu had no energy to argue. He glanced at the children—they were sleeping soundly.
He looked a bit longer, eyelids growing heavy. With his father and brother coaxing, he drifted off, vaguely hearing voices around him.
Lu Yang kept the lamp on for when Lu Liu got up at night—it made care easier. Wang Fengnian agreed.
Earlier, Lu Liu had mentioned diapers were hard to wash. Lu Yang asked, “I was born in April, so it shouldn’t have been hard then, right?”
Wang Fengnian nodded. “Right, not hard.”
Honest as always, he answered directly. After a pause, realizing his response was too curt, he added, “Back then, your father and I had barely any clothes. We cut two shirts into diapers. After each change, we washed and put them away. Only enough for use. Once diapers weren’t needed, we made shoes from the leftover fabric.”
Lu Yang’s imagination had been dry; hearing this, he understood the depth of their struggle.
One child’s diapers required two shirts. If they hadn’t sent him away, would they have even had diapers? Straw as padding?
He asked more, like, what if the mother had no strength for the second birth.
Wang Fengnian said, “Nothing could be done. You just had to give birth.”
He didn’t elaborate, his voice low, as if avoiding something.
Lu Yang waited a while, then asked again, “If there’s no strength, how do you give birth?”
Wang Fengnian answered slowly, after a long pause: “When the child was full-term, the amniotic fluid was gone. If the child couldn’t come out, he would suffocate.”
A tightness pressed Lu Yang’s chest. He said nothing, his mind racing.
His father had no strength during Lu Liu’s birth. Lu Liu may have been near suffocation when born.
In such situations, Lu Sanfeng would have taken the child away, not caring for Lu Liu. What if the child didn’t survive?
The two fathers, honest as they were, perhaps only realized after the child was taken that Lu Sanfeng could raise a child for them—or lend money for childcare.
But once sent away, the child might never return. If they demanded him back, Old Chen would scold them relentlessly for being ungrateful and overreaching.
They had no silver. Raising even one child was difficult. So they hesitated, unwilling to take him home.
Some people, despite all efforts, couldn’t live as they wished. The land couldn’t yield more, the couple couldn’t earn more silver; a lifetime of struggle barely sustained one child.
Tonight passed in silence. The next morning, the household woke to a lively, bustling home.
The table could barely fit everyone. Even using the chamber pot required lining up. In such a large room, walking around risked bumping into someone.
Relatives of the Li family and Li Feng’s brothers came to offer congratulations. Even if they stopped at the small shop outside, it was crowded.
