第二章 赶集

In the spring of 1936, on the market street of a small town in northern Sichuan, people were coming and going.

Xiù Lán crouched by the roadside; in front of her was a bamboo basket containing a dozen or so eggs. She was nineteen years old this year, with a long braid. Her washed-out blue cotton clothes gave her a simple, plain beauty. She waited for customers while watching the passers-by.

The sun gradually climbed higher. There were still seven or eight eggs left. Xiù Lán began to worry; she hoped to sell them all quickly so she could go home early and help her mother cook.

Just then, the crowd suddenly became restless.

"The cow is frightened! Get out of the way!" someone shouted.

Xiù Lán looked up to see a large black cow charging straight toward her, dragging a half-length rope behind it. The old cowherd was chasing after it, yelling as he ran, "Make way! Quick, make way!"

Xiù Lán wanted to run, but her legs would not obey. Watching the cow get closer and closer, she shut her eyes in terror.

At that very moment, a man rushed out from the side. He grabbed Xiù Lán's arm and pulled her toward the roadside.

"Be careful!"

The cow rushed past the spot where they had just stood and knocked over the bamboo basket. The eggs in the basket rolled all over the ground, and several of them cracked.

Xiù Lán's heart pounded wildly. She looked up. The man who had pulled her was a young man, tall, wearing a military uniform with a leather belt around his waist, his hair cut very short, looking neat and smart. He was looking at her, eyes bright, "Are you all right?"

"No... nothing." Xiù Lán's face suddenly turned red. She had never stood this close to a strange man in her whole life.

"Your eggs—" the young man squatted down and helped her pick up the scattered eggs and put them back in the basket. "Three of them are broken."

"Thank you." Xiù Lán's voice was as faint as the buzz of a mosquito.

The man stood up and smiled: "My name is Chén Shàotáng, from Lǐjiā Village ahead. What's your name?"

Before Xiù Lán could speak, the old vegetable vendor beside them came over, with a stern face, and asked, "Who are you? What are you talking to my Xiù Lán about?"

This old vegetable vendor was Xiù Lán's father. Seeing his daughter standing so close to a strange man, his face darkened.

"Uncle, I'm a soldier, come back to visit my family," Chén Shàotáng answered honestly.

"A soldier?" Xiù Lán's father snorted. "Let's go, Xiù Lán, back home."

Xiù Lán hung her head and followed her father away. After a few steps, she couldn't help turning back for a look. Chén Shàotáng was still standing there; seeing her look back, he waved at her.

After returning home, Xiù Lán didn't say a word. Her father sat on the doorstep smoking, while her mother cooked in the kitchen.

"That soldier—obviously he's not a reliable person," said her father. "Xiù Lán, from now on, stay away from him."

"Dad, but he just saved me," Xiù Lán said in a low voice.

"Save you? Who knows what he's up to," said her father. "Listen to your dad; we'll find you a steady, honest family."

Xiù Lán's face flushed red. She shouted at her father, "Dad, what are you talking about!" Then she ran back to her own room and sat on the edge of the bed, thinking of the smile of that person just now, her heart pounding wildly.

The next day, Xiù Lán went to the market again to sell eggs. This time, she brought a few more.

When the sun came out, she saw Chén Shàotáng standing across the street, holding a bag of pastries in his hand, walking toward her.

"Selling eggs again today!" Chén Shàotáng greeted her from a distance.

"The hens at home lay eggs quite often," Xiù Lán replied, lowering her head and not daring to look at him.

"I bought some osmanthus cake. Try it." Chén Shàotáng placed the pastries beside her basket.

"I don't want it." Xiù Lán's face turned red again.

"Tasting one won't cost you anything. Tell you what: I want to buy fifteen eggs. My mother makes salted eggs, so can you give me a discount?" Chén Shàotáng said with a smile.

Xiù Lán wrapped the eggs. Chén Shàotáng took the wrapped eggs, put a handful of copper coins into her basket, then turned and went back.

Xiù Lán watched his receding figure. She picked up the copper coins and counted them, and found there were a few extra. He had agreed to make it cheaper, but he had paid the full price.

At noon, the osmanthus cake was still in the basket. Xiù Lán couldn't bear to take even one bite. She carefully wrapped it up and put it into her own pocket.