Chapter 3: The Overseer

Page 1/3

Upon hearing this, Zhang Zhiyong looked up in disbelief. "No way, Granny Chun just passed away, and she’s not at home?"

As if to confirm his words, the moment he finished speaking, the crossroads erupted with the crackling sound of firecrackers.

Accompanying the noise were heart-wrenching cries—undoubtedly the mourning of children and grandchildren.

According to the local customs in Shangwan Village, when someone passes away, firecrackers must be set off immediately at the deceased’s doorstep.

Then another set must be ignited at the Ma Huang Temple, along with burning a stack of paper offerings and placing three incense sticks.

The elders say this is to notify the underworld to open the temple gates and guide the soul of the deceased down, lest it wanders the mortal world and becomes a lost ghost.

As for the children’s mourning cries, besides expressing grief, it is a necessary ritual; otherwise, it would be taboo, and villagers would be reluctant to come and help.

The Chen and Li families had broken ties, and most villagers were unaware. Yet in this regard, both families showed an unusual tacit understanding and refrained from publicizing it.

Or rather, the heads of the two households, Li Jianguo and Chen Gaoyuan, were both wise and cultured men, different from ordinary villagers. When they encountered each other, they would still greet one another.

This was why Zhang Zhiyong was so enthusiastic in helping his brother organize things.

The old Li family lived at the crossroads, separated from the riverbank by seven or eight patches of rice paddies. By the time Li Heng ran home, he was soaked through.

The main hall’s door was wide open. Upon entering, a strong herbal scent greeted him. Li Jianguo was squatting in front of an earthenware pot, boiling traditional medicine. Blowing vigorously into the bamboo fire tube, it seemed he had just lit the fire.

Li Heng looked at his father, wearing a dusty gray Zhongshan suit with patched collars, and soot smeared across his face and forehead. He felt a pang of sympathy.

“Dad, you’re boiling medicine?”

Li Jianguo wiped his forehead with his sleeve and half-turned, his kind face showing a hopeful expression. “You’re back. How was the harvest today?”

“Do you even need to ask? I caught at least five jin.”

Li Heng proudly handed over a bamboo basket filled with small fish, shrimp, loaches, and freshwater crabs with their claws removed.

A rough glance estimated it weighed no less than five and a half jin.

Though he couldn’t tend crops and often shirked hard labor, Li Heng was gifted and self-taught in catching loaches and fish, hunting wild rabbits and pheasants—a specialty. Among the twenty-plus households around the crossroads, he considered himself second best; no one dared to challenge his first place.

Li Heng looked around and asked, “Where’s Mom?”

Unfazed by smells, Li Jianguo reached into the basket. “She’s out back feeding the pigs.”

Listening carefully, they heard the muffled grunts of pigs from the backyard. Li Heng immediately handed over the camellia flower.

Staring at the bright, romantic red camellia, Li Jianguo was surprised and later joked,

“What’s the occasion today? This doesn’t make sense.”

Li Heng winked. “Don’t rush. This isn’t for you. Take it to Mom.

You used to give her flowers often, but it’s been years since you last did.”

Li Jianguo stared at the flower, then cheerfully took it and went to the backyard.

Today’s breeze carried romance back to the days twenty years ago when they first met.

Page 2/3

Before long, Tian Xiao’e came out, found an empty bottle, filled it with water, and placed the camellia blossoms inside one by one.

Li Heng leaned on the table, teasing with a literary flair, “Mom, you can't lock all your love inside a flower vase.”

Tian Xiao’e instinctively asked, “Then what should I do?”

Li Heng gestured, “When the petals wither, dry them to make sachets to give back to Dad. That’s called following the one you love like a shadow.”

Tian Xiao’e’s expression faltered slightly, then she softly scolded, “You smooth talker!”

She sighed quietly, no wonder the obedient Chen Zijing from childhood was ruined by Manzai—this mouth was truly something else.

Zhang Zhiyong stood stunned beside them, thoughts flashing through his mind: “Wow, wow, can it really be like this?”

Wet clothes clung uncomfortably to Li Heng’s body. Pressed for time, he quickly took a shower.

Looking at himself in the mirror, he couldn’t help but marvel: Mom’s genes are really strong!

If he were to act in a movie, there’d be no need for any Takakura Ken.

He’d watched “The Chase” several times; it was nothing special. He didn’t understand why it was so popular here.

Could this be the so-called blend of toughness and tenderness, the rarity that makes it valuable?

Satisfied with his appearance, at 17, standing 178 cm tall, he was not short for the south, but his thin ribs made him uneasy.

Small fish and shrimp required no preparation and could go straight into the pot; loaches needed to be kept for a few days to expel mud and sand.

Larger freshwater crabs and carp required bamboo skewers to clean out the entrails.

As for the crabs that could fetch a good price later, these days there were too many, mostly used as fertilizer. Only the especially picky would eat a few.

Though five and a half jin of fish and shrimp looked like a lot, with the swift hands of Li Heng, Li Jianguo, Tian Xiao’e, and Zhang Zhiyong, the catch quickly dwindled visibly.

While the four chatted and cleaned the fish, a middle-aged man approached directly from across the street. It was Chen Gaoyuan.

Dressed in mourning clothes, Chen Gaoyuan knelt upon entering and addressed Li Jianguo and Tian Xiao’e, saying their mother had passed and asking the couple for help.

Kneeling was a local custom; whenever someone died, the filial son would wear a white cloth over his head and go door to door asking for assistance.

Shangwan Village had about 3,000 residents. Apart from the Chen family, Li Jianguo was the only university graduate, worldly and methodical.

For this reason, whenever there were weddings or funerals in the village, people habitually sought him out first to serve as the “manager.”

The manager, as the name suggests, is responsible for overseeing everything.

How much to spend on celebrations, which neighbors to invite for help, assigning tasks, number of dishes for communal meals, what dishes to serve, purchasing supplies, hiring ritual masters—all were handled by the manager on behalf of the host family.

Such work was not for just anyone.

Li Jianguo’s eloquence, competence, wide connections, and fairness earned him respect from young and old alike, making him the undisputed choice as manager.

Many even joked that it was a blessing he had been dismissed from his previous job; since the old village chief passed, the village lacked someone capable of managing big affairs.

Li Jianguo quickly dropped the crab he was cleaning, helped Chen Gaoyuan up, and comforted him, “Gaoyuan, please accept my condolences. I’ll change clothes and come over shortly.”

Chen Gaoyuan rose and turned to Tian Xiao’e. “Sister-in-law, your cooking is excellent. Please help arrange dinner later.”

Page 3/3

When an elder passes, the filial children have a myriad of duties to attend to, while neighbors usually help with serving tea and meals.

Since Chen Gaoyuan’s wife refused to establish marital ties between the two families, even though they lived just across the street, she hadn’t been to the Chen household in half a year.

In a way, the daughters-in-law of the Chen and Li families were both sulking.

Thinking of stepping into the Chen home made Tian Xiao’e inwardly uncomfortable, with a thousand reasons not to go.

But the deceased comes first. Besides, with the respected Chen Gaoyuan personally asking, it was impolite to refuse; otherwise, she would gain a reputation for being petty.

After weighing the options, Tian Xiao’e finally agreed gently, “Alright, I’ll go get the firecrackers.”

Old customs dictated that when visiting the deceased’s home, a string of firecrackers must be set off as a ritual called “watching the life.” It was an unspoken rule.

The size of the firecrackers could vary, and sometimes many people would enter together. No one fussed over it. It was inexpensive anyway.

After Li Jianguo and Tian Xiao’e left the main hall, Chen Gaoyuan’s gaze naturally fell on Li Heng.

He didn’t react as strongly as the women in his family to the boy who had coaxed his eldest daughter to bed, but his feelings were complicated.

After the scandal broke, he had quietly asked his daughter once, “Zijing, what’s going on between you and Li Heng?”

At the time, Chen Zijing blushed and lowered her head, pleading for Li Heng, “Dad, it was my choice. Please don’t blame him.”

Her words calmed Chen Gaoyuan and suppressed the family’s opposition, preventing the matter from escalating publicly.

He even smoked a cigarette and chatted briefly with Li Jianguo whenever he returned home.

This was why neighbors remained unaware of the daughters-in-law’s secret feud.

As memories surfaced, Chen Gaoyuan asked Li Heng, “When do you start school?”

Li Heng answered, “School starts on the twelfth.”

It was the fifth day of the Lunar New Year, about a week before school resumed.

Chen Gaoyuan patted Li Heng on the shoulder silently and said, “Study hard and get into a good university,” then left.

Perhaps moved by meeting Li Heng, Chen Gaoyuan later spoke to his wife in a conciliatory tone,

“Alan, how about letting Zijing come home to see her grandmother off?”

Upon hearing this, Zhong Lan immediately lost her temper, her calm face filling with anger.

“Chen Gaoyuan, what are you thinking? If our daughter comes back like this, I’ll just bang my head against the wall!”

Having endured many hardships, Chen Gaoyuan remained composed and didn’t argue with his wife, only sighing,

“I’m just afraid Zijing will blame us later.”

Zhong Lan scowled coldly at him.

Seeing this, Chen Gaoyuan completely abandoned the idea of bringing their eldest daughter home.