Chapter 2

Yidong City was a forest city, with the Red Pine Primeval Forest occupying most of its territory. The Li family lived in the Beicha District, right at the foot of the Red Pine Mountains.

Grandma Li had four sons. The eldest, Li Muwen, left with the army during the War of Resistance and hadn’t been heard from for many years. It wasn’t until after the liberation that a letter finally arrived, saying that after the war he had gone with the army to Fujian Province. Not only had he become a leader, but he had also settled down there, marrying and starting a family. The third son, Li Musen, lived a few miles away from Li Muwu and, like him, worked at the grain store. The fourth son, Li Mulin, had moved to the provincial capital years ago and rarely returned home.

Although two of her sons weren’t around, Grandma Li, having endured the trials of war, was content with the peace of the present. As long as the family was safe, it didn’t matter whether her sons were nearby or not.

With both sons and grandsons, life was more or less satisfactory. If Grandma Li had any remaining wish, it was that the Li family could finally have a girl. In the Beicha area at the mountain’s foot, the Li family was famous for its flourishing lineage. Grandma Li’s mother-in-law had once given birth to seven sons in a row. After marrying into the Li family, Grandma Li herself bore six sons, though only four survived. What she regretted most was never having had a daughter.

Families lacking sons hoped for sons; families like the Lis, who hadn’t seen a girl in generations, couldn’t help but hope for a soft, pink-cheeked little girl. Unfortunately, no matter where her four sons lived—north or south—they all kept having boys. Every time Grandma Li received a letter announcing another grandson, she couldn’t help but sigh.

Finally, this time her second daughter-in-law, Wang Sufen, gave her a surprise—she gave birth to a fair, chubby baby girl. While Grandma Li was delighted her wish had been granted, a new worry took root. Wang Sufen was nearly forty and had endured many hardships in earlier years. Not only had she failed to fully recover, she had also given birth to four sons in a row during the difficult years.

By the time she gave birth to the third child, Li Mingnan, she was already producing insufficient breast milk. With the fourth, Li Mingbei, she had nearly none at all, so he was raised on goat’s milk. For a tough little boy, anything was fine so long as he could survive. But for a delicate little girl, there was no telling whether she could even digest goat’s milk. In an age when a single bout of diarrhea could mean death for a child, Grandma Li was deeply worried, afraid that this hard-won granddaughter might not survive.

Hearing the baby cry from the east room, Grandma Li set down her chopsticks and said, “The little girl’s awake—I’ll go take a look.”

Liu Xiulan had already stopped eating after feeling half full. Seeing Grandma Li get up, she followed her: “I’ll come too. Maybe the baby wet herself?” she said, helping Grandma Li toward the east room.

Inside, Wang Sufen was already holding her crying daughter, patting her gently. She knew the baby must be hungry. Even though she didn’t expect to have any milk, she couldn’t just let the child cry like this. With a sigh, she unbuttoned her blouse—only to suddenly realize that her chest felt somewhat engorged.

She tried nudging the baby toward her breast. The tiny girl, eyes still shut, instinctively latched on and began to suck. It was difficult at first—her small forehead even began to sweat—but before long, Wang Sufen could hear the sound of the baby swallowing.

Grandma Li and Liu Xiulan lifted the curtain and entered just in time to see Wang Sufen beaming with joy. Hearing them, she quickly looked up and said, “Mom, that fish soup really worked. The little one’s finally nursing!”

“Really?” Grandma Li let go of Liu Xiulan’s hand and took a few quick, bound-footed steps to the kang. Leaning close to Wang Sufen’s shoulder, she could indeed hear the girl gulping down milk. One glance at her daughter-in-law’s chest—full and firm—was enough to reassure her that the baby would be well fed.

Grandma Li was overjoyed. Stroking the baby’s thick hair, she said regretfully, “If I’d known that fish worked so well, we shouldn’t have cooked it. Should’ve saved it for your soup. Later this afternoon, I’ll send Mingnan and Mingbei down to the river again—maybe they’ll catch another one.” But thinking about how little it had rained this year, how the river was running low, and how they hadn’t seen any fat fish or shrimp all summer, she added, “Even if they don’t catch any, it’s fine. We’ll just slaughter a chicken, cut off a piece every day to make you soup. That’ll last a good ten days or so.”

Grandma Li was the type who didn’t like to sit still. As soon as her three grandsons finished eating, she chased them out to go net fish. Li Mingdong didn’t have to go out—he was preparing for the college entrance exam next summer, so he was exempt from chores. All he needed to do was sit at the table and study.

Mingxi, already in ninth grade, resembled Mingdong in both manner and behavior. Though he joined in planting fields and fishing during school breaks, he wasn’t reckless like his two younger brothers. Everything he did followed a method.

Mingnan and Mingbei, aged ten and seven, were at the stage where even cats and dogs would tire of them—constantly bouncing off the walls. After school, they would toss their schoolbags aside and run straight to the mountains. Grandma Li didn’t stop them; every time they returned, they brought back firewood or sometimes mushrooms and black fungus. Occasionally, they even caught a rabbit or two to improve the family’s meals.

As soon as the three boys left, the once noisy house quieted down. Sitting at the doorway puffing on his dry tobacco pipe, Li Muwu called out to Li Mingdong, “You’ve been in school so many years—come up with a good name for your sister.”

Li Mingdong thought for a moment, then smiled and said, “’Peach blossoms bloom in grace, their leaves lush and thick. The girl returns to her rightful home, fitting for her family.’ How about we call her Li Mingzhen?”

Li Muwu looked at him blankly. “Speak human language.”

Drenched in poetic sentiment just a moment ago, Li Mingdong was brought back to reality with a splash of cold water. Helpless, he glanced at Li Muwu and explained bluntly, “It means grass and trees growing lush and thick.”

This time, Li Muwu understood. He nodded with satisfaction. “Grass and trees never lose their roots. That’s a name that says she’ll thrive. Good. I’ll go register her right now.”

Throwing on a thick cotton coat and a fur hat, he turned to leave, but stopped just as he stepped out of the courtyard. Looking up at the sky in thought, he suddenly turned around and came back in. Bursting through the door, he yelled, “Mingdong! What’s your sister’s name again? Was it Li Mingshu or Li Mingcao?”

From the east room, the drowsy baby seemed to hear the name her father had come up with and immediately burst into tears. At the table, flipping through his Russian textbook, Li Mingdong nearly cried himself. “It’s not ‘grass’ or ‘tree’! It’s Li Mingzhen! You know what, I’ll write it down so you don’t mess it up again.”

Taking the slip of paper from his son, Li Muwu squinted as he read out each character. “Li… Ming… Zhen? This is Zhen? That word’s way too hard to write. What’s she gonna do when she starts school and has to write her name? She’ll be bawling!”

“Well, you can’t name her Li Minggrass, can you?” Li Mingdong protested indignantly. “Why don’t you come up with one yourself?”

Frowning in thought for a while, Li Muwu quietly slipped the note into his pocket, pulled his hat tight, and walked back out. “The name’s fine. We’ll stick with it.”

In the east room, Wang Sufen, who had been listening in on the conversation, chuckled. “Dongzi’s dad is just stubborn.”

Grandma Li couldn’t help but laugh too, though she still tried to defend her son a little. “Second isn’t dumb, you know. He just never had the chance to go to school. But in recent years he’s learned a few characters from Dongzi, and he’s a lot better than before. I heard he can even write his own name now—that’s not bad at all.”

As the two women whispered to each other, little Zhenzhen, who had been in a hazy daze since birth, finally began to awaken. She opened her eyes, though the world before her still seemed blurry. Stretching out her arms and kicking her legs, she kicked away the blanket that hadn’t been properly wrapped around her.

Grandma Li cheerfully wrapped her granddaughter back up and said with great satisfaction, “Just look at our girl’s strong arms and legs—when she grows up, she’ll be able to kick a pig over with one foot!”

Zhenzhen was deeply shaken by Grandma Li’s vision of her future. She quickly tried to keep her arms and legs neatly in place, hoping to change Grandma Li’s impression of her.

Patting the baby absentmindedly, Grandma Li said, “This child was born on a lucky day. It’s said the Buddha attained enlightenment on the eighth day of the twelfth lunar month.”

Wang Sufen chimed in, “When I was little, I remember my grandmother saying that back when life was more stable, people would always set out offerings on the eighth of the twelfth lunar month to honor their ancestors and the gods. Later, during all the war and chaos, people could barely eat, so those traditions just stopped.”

Grandma Li reminisced, “That’s right. Even though my family was poor when I was young, we still took out the beans we’d saved all year and made a small pot of porridge on that day. Everyone got half a bowl—it was a rare treat.” The more she talked, the more she couldn’t sit still. She put on her shoes and got off the heated brick bed, saying, “We’re not rich now, but we’ve still got some beans left from last year, and we’ve saved up a good amount of hazelnuts and pine nuts this winter. Let’s have Guihua cook a pot of porridge to satisfy the craving. It’s already the twelfth lunar month—we should eat something good.”

With that, Grandma Li bustled out. Wang Sufen dozed off as she patted Zhenzhen, and soon she was fast asleep.

Hearing the slow, even breathing beside her, Zhenzhen gradually opened her eyes, trying hard to recall what had happened before…

Zhenzhen’s name in her previous life was Li Zhenzhen. After her parents divorced, they left her in the original family home. Aside from sending her living expenses once a year, they rarely came back to see her. Fortunately, Zhenzhen had an open heart. She didn’t become gloomy or bitter because of her broken family—on the contrary, she felt a kind of freedom she’d never known before.

After graduating from college, Zhenzhen planned to use the money she’d earned from part-time jobs to open a flower shop. But just as she was checking out potential locations, something suddenly struck her on the head—and the next thing she knew, she’d transmigrated. Squinting, Zhenzhen tried to remember—had it been a golden pearl that fell from the sky and hit her?

She was dazed. What kind of pearl had that much power, to knock her straight into another life? But strangely, after it hit her, she hadn’t felt pain. Instead, there had been a deep, instinctive sense of familiarity—like blood calling to blood.

Zhenzhen couldn’t help raising her tiny hand to gently touch her forehead, but all she felt was smooth, delicate baby skin. No bumps, nothing out of the ordinary. She couldn’t make sense of it no matter how much she thought. Instead, her eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and she soon fell asleep again.

“Granny! We’re back!” A bright voice called from the doorway. Zhenzhen, startled awake by the sudden noise, had no idea how long she’d been asleep. She opened her eyes and found the room was dim—only then did she realize it was already night.

“What are you yelling for? Don’t you know we’ve got a new baby in the house? Can’t you lower your voice a little?” Grandma Li scolded, clearly startled by her grandson’s shout.

Hearing that thunderous voice, Zhenzhen’s face was full of dark lines: Granny, your voice is louder than my brother’s!

—————

Author’s Note:

The background of this story is based on the lives of the older generation in my family. My eldest uncle was a university student in 1960, and my eldest aunt was literally exchanged for soybeans when she was little. Honestly, the stories from back then are far more exciting than the novels we read today.

——————

Li Muwu was confused with the name Li Mingzhen because he was unfamiliar with the character 蓁 (Zhen) in the name.

When his son, Li Mingdong, suggested the name based on classical poetry, he explained that 蓁 symbolizes lush and thriving plants, implying prosperity and vitality. However, Li Muwu, having little formal education, misunderstood the explanation and thought the name referred to something simple like grass (草) or trees (树) instead.

His lack of familiarity with the written character and its meaning led to his initial hesitation and humorous attempt to simplify the name. Eventually, after some back-and-forth, he decided to stick with Li Mingzhen, acknowledging it as a good name despite his earlier doubts.

—————

Grandma Li : FL’s grandmother

Wang Sufen: FL’s mother

Li Muwu: FL’s father / Grandma Li’s second son

Li Musen : Grandma Li’s Third son

Li Mingdong: FL’s eldest brother

Wu Guihua: Li Mingdong’s fiancée

Li Mingxi: FL’s second brother

Li Mingnan: FL’s third brother

Li Mingbei: FL’s fourth brother

Li Mingzhen: FL