Jiangnan Water Village is filled with paddy fields. It rained a couple of days ago, and the dirt road leading to the village is full of potholes, splashing mud everywhere if one is not careful.
Zhang Guoqing honked the horn and controlled the speed of the car. It took him over ten minutes to cover a distance of less than a kiloter. He finally stopped at the bridgehead at the entrance of the village.
Across this stone bridge is the old ho of Old Master Jiang.
At this ti, the sun was setting, and many people were busy with farm work. On both sides of the bridge, there were children swimming and fishing in the river.
Seeing a military vehicle stop, everyone halted and looked their way.
Zhang Guoqing got out of the car and waved to the children by the shore. After a while, finally, a seven or eight-year-old naked and barefoot boy ca forward.
"Hey kid, do you know where the old man Jiang Tongshuo from the city lives?"
The little guy nodded and shouted to his little friends not far away, "It’s the relative of the old grandpa at the east end of the village."
With a clamor, a bunch of children ran over to the car, chattering away asking various questions in a mix of standard Mandarin and local dialect.
In the midst of the chatter, Zhang Guoqing could only roughly understand that the kids were asking if they ca from Beijing or were waiting for them to hold a ceremony.
Just then, a small and lean old man, about sixty years old, walked over from the bridgehead. Without waiting to ask, he loudly called out in dialect, "Are you the grandsons of the Old Jiang Family? Hurry up and get over there, they’ve been waiting for you."
At this point, Zhang Guoqing understood that they should hurry over. He let Aunt Chen carry Ping’an while he and Yi Jiefang each carried their luggage toward the bridgehead.
The old man walked ahead with his hands behind his back, leading the way briskly. Zhang Guoqing and the others followed, asking questions as they walked. They quickly realized they couldn’t understand much of the local dialect.
He had to resort to accented Mandarin, asking, "The stubborn old guy was adamant. The old lady was getting worse by the day, and I suggested he write to his granddaughter, but he insisted the kids were too busy and didn’t want to make you travel back and forth. By the way, where’s the Jiang girl?"
Zhang Guoqing explained, "My wife was sent on business by her superior, and I couldn’t reach her. So I had to bring our child over first. This is my son."
"No wonder that old guy bragged about his granddaughter every day. Good for her! At last, our village has soone who made sothing of themselves. See that locust tree up ahead? That’s the place. I see your family is doing well. I suggested him to build a decent house, but he wouldn’t agree, sticking with a thatched house. Sigh..."
Zhang Guoqing looked at the three adobe houses with thatched roofs up ahead, feeling both frustrated and anxious. This old man sure knows how to complicate things! As far as he knows, putting aside his salary over the years, even his father-in-law had been sending money.
What exactly are they saving the money for?
"Sir, is there any empty courtyard in the village for sale?"
"There’s none anymore. A few years ago, yes. But after joining the commune, all the villages built houses on shared land. Don’t waste money on that. Find a few people and treat them to so als, and very soon, you’ll have a house built."
After saying this, the old man noticed Zhang Guoqing’s hesitant expression and continued, "Worried you don’t have ti yourself? Go find the team leader and pay him; he’ll arrange everything for you."
Zhang Guoqing nodded. Now there’s only the old man left; he has to handle the aftermath properly. He wonders if there are any orphans nearby and considers consulting the team leader.
Under the large locust tree, the three adobe houses with thatched roofs were surrounded by a small courtyard made of bamboo fences, where a few middle-aged and elderly people were going in and out, helping out.
Zhang Guoqing took Ping’an from Aunt Chen, dressed him in a white shirt, pinned a green gauze to it, put on small white shoes, and tied a mourning band. When tying it, he ensured the two ends hung down at the sa length.
Allowing his son to wear mourning was his way of thanking these two elders on behalf of Zhou Jiao. More importantly, it was as his father-in-law had said, so that the childless elderly wouldn’t leave this world too forlorn.
After Zhang Guoqing also changed into a white shirt, white shoes, and tied the mourning band, he pinned a black armband with a small red cloth piece on his arm. When Old Master Jiang, who ca out hearing the news, saw him, his eyes welled with tears.
—He finally had descendants!
"Grandpa..." Zhang Guoqing stepped forward to support him, montarily at a loss for words. The departure of his lifelong companion felt like the sky had fallen for the old man.
He beckoned to Little Ping’an beside him, "Son, quickly call great-grandfather. We are doing this for your mother, offering incense to great-grandma."
Old Master Jiang squatted down, kindly looking at the child. Hearing the child’s loud voice, he complained to Zhang Guoqing, "Why did you bring the child all the way here? Quickly take the little darling inside."
Ping’an held his hand, "Great-grandpa, I’ll go in with you. Grandpa says you should stay strong. He and mom are on a work mission and can’t make it, so I’m representing them."
"Good, good... Our dear grandchild is so articulate. Were you tired on the way here? Is it hot? Is there anything you’d like to eat..."
Zhang Guoqing noticed that the old man’s spirits had lifted considerably, and he finally breathed a sigh of relief. Fortunately, he brought the child this ti; at crucial monts, his son was the capable one.
Watching them go inside, Zhang Guoqing asked Aunt Chen to take care of them, then approached a table and said to a middle-aged man curiously looking at him, "Uncle, thank you for your hard work and for coming over to help."
The middle-aged man quickly waved his hand, "It’s the right thing to do. We can be considered distant grandnephews of your grandfather."
"Then I should call you Uncle. Uncle, I won’t be formal with you. You can just call Xiao Wu. Whatever tasks need to be done, just let know."
The middle-aged man had just smiled and was quick to suppress it, replying, "There is a lot coming up that needs your attention. The spirit hall is already set up. Nowadays, there’s no trendy to invite Daoists over to chant, but paper money and such are still needed. Take a look at this; it’s the village gifts, along with what the family has prepared, all recorded in this book."
Zhang Guoqing didn’t stand on ceremony, took it, and saw that besides the gifts, the prepared items were all in small quantities. He noticed the amount of brown sugar was also small.
He learned from Huang Dong that no matter how simple the ceremony was, guests must first drink a bowl of brown sugar water and eat a tofu al.
Having understood this, Zhang Guoqing softly told him, "I’ll go inside to see my grandma first, and I’ll trouble you to note down anything missing. I’ll prepare it."
"There are quite a few juniors with the sa surna in the village, and they rember your grandma’s kindness and want to wear mourning. They’ll co over quickly after work tonight. If you need anything, just ask them for help."
Hearing this, Zhang Guoqing raised an eyebrow—he didn’t ask what the kindness was. From Yi Jiefang, he took the white cloth and black gauze and placed them on the table, then took out fifty jin of national grain coupons and fifty yuan from his pocket.
"It’s no problem to leave the money and coupons with ; if you don’t use them, you can return them to later. This white cloth is too good; we don’t need so much. They’ll prepare it themselves."
Zhang Guoqing shook his head, "It’s only right. I’ll go in first."
It’s unreasonable to let outsiders wear mourning, while they, as the main family, begrudge so cloth. He knows cloth is hard to co by these days. Maybe soone sees these white cloth strips and cos to wear mourning, only to switch back to their own hospun cloth, but he’s okay with it.
If it’s a particular family, they wouldn’t even ask for mourning cloth for fear of bad luck. But in these days, who normally wants to vie to be a filial son? Possibly letting the elderly have a dignified burial, that’s nothing much.
When Zhang Guoqing went inside, Ping’an, following Aunt Chen’s guidance, kowtowed three tis to the grandmother’s body and lit long incense. He promptly went in and copied him.
After finishing everything, Zhang Guoqing asked Yi Jiefang to drive to see his mother-in-law and bring over so brown sugar and missing items. Seeing the situation, he realized he and his son wouldn’t leave the village before the mountain burial tomorrow.
After sending away Yi Jiefang, and arranging for Aunt Chen to take care of the old man and his son, Zhang Guoqing began coordinating the funeral arrangents with the distant uncle.
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