Chapter 5: My family said

“My dear sister, you’ve kept us waiting so long! Whether it worked out or not, give us a clear answer!”

“Everything that went wrong is my fault.”

The matchmaker Hu apologized profusely: “The day I returned, I got greedy for something cold and drank chilled water. The next day, I came down with a fever and diarrhea, which really took a toll on me. I was supposed to come yesterday, but I couldn’t travel far, so it got delayed until today.”

“The Kang family asked if Brother Fan is suitable. If it’s a match, the 26th of this month is a good day, and they can come over.”

Hearing that the visitors could arrive in just a couple of days, Mrs. Chen and Fan Shoulin were overjoyed, unable to sit still, and eagerly agreed.

After the excitement, Mrs. Chen sighed with regret: “If this happy event had come a bit earlier, Big Brother could’ve known about it too. In autumn, he was in a rush to head into the mountains, worried about delays, but he still waited at home for two days for news. He couldn’t wait any longer, so he left for the mountains at dawn today. It’s just bad timing.”

Matchmaker Hu said, “As long as the matter is settled, it’s no big deal. Whether Big Brother hears about it a moment earlier or later, the marriage won’t fall through.”

“That’s true.”

So, early the next morning, Fan Shoulin went up the mountain to tell Fan Jing about the engagement.

But when he got to the mountain, he didn’t find anyone at the wooden cabin.

He wandered around nearby and only saw two new traps Fan Jing had set, with no clue where he’d gone in the mountains.

Fan Shoulin sat in the cabin for about an hour, but Fan Jing didn’t return.

Feeling cold, he had no choice but to head back down.

When he returned, Mrs. Chen saw he hadn’t even seen Fan Jing and gave him a good scolding.

Fan Shoulin took the reprimand silently.

The next day, before noon, he went up the mountain again, figuring Fan Jing would at least be at the cabin for lunch.

But, to his surprise, he came up empty again.

He waited all afternoon, and as the sky grew dark, Fan Jing still didn’t show up, so he went back home.

As expected, he got another earful.

The next day, Fan Shoulin refused to go up the mountain again.

The Wang family at the west end of the village had asked him to help catch a pig for castration, so he slipped away early in the morning.

Mrs. Chen’s scolding didn’t faze him, and she was at her wit’s end.

She thought about going up the mountain herself but didn’t know where Fan Jing’s cabin was.

After some thought, she figured Fan Jing usually came home every five or six days, so he’d likely be back before the 26th. She decided to wait until he came down to tell him.

In the meantime, the two families, through the matchmaker, discussed the dowry and banquet arrangements.

Each family would handle their own banquet, with no interference from the other.

For the dowry, the Fan family would provide five strings of cash as a formal gesture.

The Kang family was reasonable and didn’t ask for much.

For ordinary families these days, marrying off a son or daughter with such a modest dowry was rare, especially for a son-in-law joining the bride’s family.

Knowing this, the couple didn’t haggle and scraped together the money.

The matchmaker delivered the Kang family’s household registry contract, and the Fan family sealed the dowry money for her to take.

Five heavy strings of cash, painstakingly saved coin by coin, were exchanged for a single light document. Mrs. Chen felt a pang of heartache.

She thought how tough times had become. In earlier years, if a groom’s family had no fields or property, they wouldn’t have had the chance to act high and mighty.

Back then, families with eligible sons or daughters could collect dowries and use the money to arrange marriages for their younger sons.

But after the war, everything turned upside down.

Life was already hard for young men and women, and now those of marriageable age had it even worse, often scolded as burdens at home.

Mrs. Chen silently prayed to the Bodhisattva for peace, hoping there’d be no more wars.

She wished for better days in a few years, so her two daughters could find good matches.

She sighed and patted her daughter Qiao’er’s head.

Qiao’er looked up at her mother: “Ma, is this matchmaker trustworthy? She won’t run off with our money, will she?”

“Matchmaker Hu is a proper official matchmaker. I’ve seen her license! If she dares to pocket the money, we’ll report her to the county office, and she’ll get a good beating.”

When it came to money, Mrs. Chen was cautious.

The family had little to spare, and losing it to a scam would be disastrous.

“When Big Brother gets married, will we have a feast at home?”

Mrs. Chen snorted, “All you think about is food! Arranging your brother’s marriage has already drained the few strings of cash we managed to save. Where would we get money for a feast?”

Qiao’er’s face fell, thinking that if they weren’t even having a feast for her brother’s wedding, who knew when she’d get to eat good food again.

In the blink of an eye, the 26th arrived.

Up in the mountains, Fan Jing realized he’d run out of food.

He’d also gathered some mountain goods, so he packed up and headed down.

The early morning in the mountains was gray and misty with a chill of autumn.

By the time he descended, the clouds parted, and the village basked in a bit of sunlight.

His clothes were slightly damp from the mountain mist, and a few strands of hair fell across his forehead, neither long nor short, sticking to his skin like little spikes when wet.

He brushed them aside a couple of times, but they stayed put.

Thinking he’d cut them off when he got home, he looked up and saw a few people ahead, making a commotion about something.

“Oh, Da Jing! Come quick, come quick!”

A village woman spotted Fan Jing and called out as if she’d seen a savior.

“There’s a strange fellow here! Won’t say a word no matter what we ask. Could be a thief scouting the place!”

Hearing the villagers’ chatter, Fan Jing approached.

Sure enough, there was a tall man surrounded by a few farmers and women wielding hoes.

Fan Jing noticed the man had a camel-brown bundle slung over his shoulder and carried a small box.

He wore a long gray robe that reached below his calves, revealing a pair of fine black cloth boots.

He was tall, neatly dressed, and his back looked vaguely familiar.

Fan Jing didn’t think he looked like a thief.

But after the autumn harvest, households had stored grain, which could attract thieves looking to steal.

Strangers in the village couldn’t be taken lightly.

If things weren’t clear, Fan Jing figured they could send him to the village head.

At that moment, the surrounded man heard someone approaching and turned around.

Their eyes met, and Fan Jing’s brow twitched.

“Why are you here?”

Seeing a familiar face, Kang He’s eyes practically welled up with relief.

Before dawn, the Kang family had arranged for him to ride an ox cart from Wangshui Township.

The cart didn’t enter the village, dropping him at the entrance before leaving.

He’d walked a few steps into the village, but after the engagement was settled, the Kang family had kept a close eye on him, likely worried he’d run off again as he’d done before.

He hadn’t been able to go out for days.

Now that he’d finally gotten out, he’d planned to make a break for it today.

But after just a few steps in the village, before he could slip away after the cart driver left, a village woman weeding in the fields warmly called out to him.

He couldn’t understand the local dialect or what she was saying.

When he didn’t respond and stammered, her expression changed.

She shouted for others, and soon a few people came, blocking his path with hoes.

If he’d lingered any longer, those hoes might’ve landed on him.

Kang He had been full of resolve, thinking he could make it on his own outside the Kang family.

But now, alone, he realized this wasn’t his familiar Kangping.

He couldn’t even hold a normal conversation, let alone make a living.

Kang He was adaptable.

Without a word, he darted behind Fan Jing.

“They… hit me!”

Clinging to Fan Jing, Kang He clutched his bundle, pointed at the women and farmers, and stammered a complaint with his limited vocabulary.

Fan Jing froze for a moment.

“Who hit you? Our hoes didn’t even touch you! Don’t go slandering us!”

“Da Jing, you know this guy?”

Fan Jing didn’t know what to say and just nodded.

“Oh, we didn’t know! He looked unfamiliar, and when we asked who he was looking for, he wouldn’t say.”

“Just kept smiling. We thought he might not be honest.”

“Who is he to your family? A proper-looking young man. How come we’ve never seen him? His accent sounds foreign.”

Fan Jing glanced at Kang He, who was staring at him with bright, happy eyes.

After a pause, he told the villagers, “He’s the match my family arranged.”

With that, he grabbed Kang He’s wrist, said no more to the villagers, and pulled him away.

By the time the villagers processed it, they were long gone.

“A match? For who in the Fan family?”

“Liu Qinghua, are your eyes bad? Da Jing was holding that young man’s hand. Who else could it be for? The two girls in Fan Shoulin’s family aren’t old enough for marriage yet!”

“Fan Da Jing’s getting married?!”

Luckily, Fan Jing knew the villagers’ nosy habits and left quickly.

Otherwise, they’d have grilled him about his family’s history, what they did, ate, and used, not letting him go until they had every detail.

The villagers found the news juicy enough to fuel village gossip for the afternoon.

Fan Jing let go of Kang He’s wrist on a small path.

He wanted to ask him a few questions but, remembering his speech issue, held back.

Seeing Kang He carrying a lot of luggage, Fan Jing reached for his box.

Kang He noticed Fan Jing’s heavy basket strapped tightly to his back and couldn’t bear to let him carry more.

He shook the box to show it wasn’t heavy and pointed at Fan Jing’s right hand.

It had been ten days, and Kang He still remembered his small injury.

Fan Jing felt an indescribable warmth.

He stayed silent, opened his right palm, and showed Kang He.

The wound, once infected, had been treated with anti-inflammatory herbs and had healed, leaving only a scar of new flesh.

But there were fresh scratches on his palm, likely recent.

Kang He’s brows furrowed slightly.

Fan Jing noticed him looking away and quickly pulled his hand back.

At the same time, he snatched the bundle from Kang He’s shoulder.

Holding it, he strode toward home.

“Hey!”

Kang He hurried after him, and the two returned to the Fan household one after the other.