Chapter Six: Let Us Sleep

Amidst the good-natured remarks and envious gazes of the men, the unfortunate Xiao Ding at last washed away the blood and cleansed his wounds. When he finally donned the clothes brought by Er Niu, he felt as if he had seen the light of day anew—the ordeal just now was pure torment, like suffering in the depths of hell! Now, at last, he had escaped. Fortunately, none of these men harbored any unusual inclinations; who knew what might have happened otherwise.

Zhao Laixi, who had been helping nearby, was deeply shaken after tending to Xiao Ding’s wounds. This fool’s body bore so many scars! From head to toe, there were over a hundred wounds, large and small. The most severe were on his back, which had been ripped open by wolf claws. His legs, too, had several deep gashes from being kicked by the wolf’s hind legs.

By rights, wounds stung terribly when touched by water, yet Xiao Ding made not a sound as they were washed. This fool was a true iron man! Why had no one ever noticed before?

“Xiao Ding, are your injuries serious? Should we get a doctor to take a look?” Sometime during all this, Tian Dabao had hobbled over on his crutch and stood beside Xiao Ding.

“No need, they’re just flesh wounds. A few days’ rest and I’ll be fine,” Xiao Ding replied, rubbing his damp hair with a dry cloth.

“By the way, why is your hair shorter?” Tian Dabao asked in confusion.

Xiao Ding paused, glanced around, and saw that everyone else wore their hair long, tied up in topknots with cloth strips. He reached up and touched his own hair—compared to theirs, his was indeed rather short.

Yet, deep down, he still felt his hair was too long.

“I’m not really sure…” Xiao Ding couldn’t recall his past, so naturally, he had no idea why his hair was shorter than the others’.

The others in the courtyard had noticed his hair already, but thought nothing of it; for a fool, what couldn’t happen? He could single-handedly kill two giant wolves, after all.

Tian Dabao, aware that his son’s mind was not quite right, didn’t pursue the question. Instead, he turned to Zhao Laixi and said, “Laixi, go to the village head’s house and invite him to come have some wolf meat. We ought to thank him.”

The village head’s surname was He. It was thanks to Village Head He’s intervention that so many people had been gathered to search for Xiao Ding in the mountains. In these times, the village head was also called the baozhang, but the villagers preferred the title of village head.

“All right, I’ll go right away,” Zhao Laixi replied, setting down his empty bucket, wiping his hands, and heading out of the courtyard.

By now, the wolf pelts had already been stripped and hung to dry. The wolves had been gutted, and the men were gathered around several wooden basins, picking through the offal. It seemed Zhao Laixi had forgotten to mention the wolves had eaten human flesh.

So Xiao Ding walked over and said to the crowd, “We should bury the innards somewhere. These wolves have eaten people.”

The men were startled, suddenly recalling this grim detail. Yet, for villagers who rarely saw even a scrap of meat, it seemed a shame to throw anything away.

“Why not keep the wolf’s liver and heart, and bury the stomach and intestines?” Uncle Niu Er suggested after some thought.

“I agree. The heart, liver, and lungs wouldn’t have touched human flesh,” Black Charcoal chimed in immediately.

“Good, we’ll do as Uncle Niu Er says,” the others echoed.

Xiao Ding left them to it. If they wanted to eat, let them eat—he had no intention of partaking himself.

“Once we’ve finished with the wolf meat, how about we roast half and stew the other half? What do you all think?” Xiao Ding proposed.

“Sounds good! There’s so much meat, we can’t finish it all anyway. Let’s do as you say,” the men agreed readily.

“It doesn’t matter if there’s some left. After we’re done, everyone can take some of the leftovers home—let your wives and children have a taste of wolf meat too,” Xiao Ding said generously, paying no mind to the look Tian Dabao shot him.

Tian Dabao was beside himself—what a fool his son was! That much meat would feed their own family for several meals, and now, with a single sentence, he’d given it all away.

But the words were already spoken; it was too late to take them back. Sighing, Tian Dabao could only watch helplessly from the side.

The others, delighted at the prospect of taking wolf meat home, set to work with even greater zeal.

That evening, in the Tian family’s back courtyard, Xiao Ding, Zhao Laixi, and the others split the wolf meat—half for stewing, half for roasting. Soon the entire courtyard was filled with the rich aroma of meat.

They ate and chatted happily, undeterred by the lack of wine or even enough utensils. Even the Tian family joined in, feasting heartily. For these poor villagers, it was a rare occasion to have meat!

Little Pearl, clutching a piece of roasted wolf leg Xiao Ding had cooked for her, bared her tiny white teeth and tore into the meat, her face and mouth soon slick with grease. Then, with her dirty little hands, she wiped her face, turning it into a canvas of smudges.

Tian Dabao, Madam Li, Little Ya, Little E, Little Fu, and Er Niu all ate with relish, smiles brightening their faces.

By the time everyone was full and content, midnight had already arrived.

Xiao Ding and Zhao Laixi divided the leftover wolf meat and offal among the villagers, each receiving about seven or eight pounds. With endless thanks, and led by Village Head He, the crowd finally departed the Tian household.

By the stove, twenty or thirty pounds of roasted meat remained—the villagers had left this for the Tian family, not wanting to take it all.

Little Ya, Little E, and Er Niu helped Xiao Ding and Zhao Laixi tidy up the aftermath, then prepared to go to bed.

But with so many people and so few rooms, they could only make do for the night.

Usually, Madam Li, Little E, and Little Pearl squeezed together in the inner room’s bed, while Tian Dabao and Tian Xiao Fu slept on the bed in the outer room. In recent years, Madam Li’s health had declined, and she would faint for no apparent reason; since Xiao Ding’s marriage, she and Tian Dabao had slept apart.

Tonight, with Zhao Laixi and his wife staying over—something that had never happened before—they could only make beds on the floor.

The women stayed in the inner room, with Little Ya taking a straw mat and making a place on the floor. The men stayed in the outer room, where Zhao Laixi also bedded down on a straw mat.

Xiao Ding watched as everyone sorted out their sleeping arrangements, but noticed that he and Er Niu had not been assigned a spot. Bewildered, he felt Er Niu tug at his sleeve and whisper, “Husband, let’s go to bed.”

“Mm—” Xiao Ding replied hesitantly, wondering where they were supposed to sleep.

He watched as Er Niu led him outside the house. Only when they reached the small lean-to beside the thatched hut did Xiao Ding realize—so this was their little nest!

Life was truly hard in a poor family.

The shed was cramped, with no bed—just a straw mat on the ground, barely enough for two people to squeeze in.

After a long, exhausting night—battling wolves, roasting and stewing meat, his body covered in wounds—Xiao Ding felt honestly weary. Not just in body, but in mind as well. The loss of his memory left him with too many questions he could not answer.

“Husband, let’s sleep,” urged Er Niu. Xiao Ding did not notice that as she spoke, her cheeks had flushed red.