Shitou's mother passing away was sothing many people hadn't expected.
They felt she was still young, yet she left so suddenly.
After Li Shoutian found out about this, he jumped up and waved his hand, delivering two slaps, scolding Qi Ermao thoroughly, "Why didn't you stop him! Don't you even understand the principle that while parents are alive, one should not travel far! Unfilial son! Unfilial son!!"
Qi Ermao took it, neither defending himself nor dodging.
Although it wasn't necessarily him who angered his aunt to death, he ultimately couldn't escape involvent in this matter.
The villagers gave a round of scolding, and also cursed Shitou a few tis.
It was still Chu Xun who stepped forward and said, "Respect for the dead is paramount. If sister-in-law has a spirit in heaven, she might not be willing to hear you scold her son like this."
The villagers listened in silence, no longer scolding people, and instead silently started doing things.
Among a group of won, so helped tear mourning cloth, so went to comfort Shitou's wife, and so followed along wiping tears on the side.
Qiaohua held the few-months-old baby, her eyes swollen like walnuts from crying these past two days.
She had married, given birth to a child, and the end of the year had just passed. It looked like it would be another year of good tis.
Her man secretly ran off to join the army, and her mother-in-law was angered to death.
These days... how could she still live them.
Li Shoutian ordered people to set up the mourning hall. Seeing those children who usually ran around following behind Shitou's butt, today they all stood there honestly without making a sound.
He got angry out of nowhere, raised his hand and scolded, "Go, go, go, if you're not working, don't stand here, aren't you an eyesore enough!"
"Dad, don't ruin your health with anger, it's the twelfth lunar month of severe winter." Li Guangmao walked over and persuaded.
The gray-haired Li Shoutian had broken his heart over village affairs these years, otherwise he wouldn't have aged so quickly.
He wanted to say a few more words, but didn't know who to say them to.
A few days later, Shitou's mother was buried according to the village's customs.
The pallbearers were all strong young n from the village. Qi Ermao originally wanted to lend a hand too, but was directly kicked aside by Li Shoutian.
"You little brat, if you also cause such a disaster in the future, see how I deal with you! Don't think that just because your dad isn't here, no one will discipline you!"
Over the years, besides Chu Xun taking much care of the orphans and widowed mothers in the village, Li Shoutian also helped out a lot.
He truly treated the children as his own family. Whoever needed a bit of help, he would run around for them without any complaints.
In terms of plowing fields, he wasn't as good as the water buffalo Chu Xun bought.
But a water buffalo that only knew how to plow fields could not compare to him at all.
The coffin was carried into Shitou's family's fields, where a deep pit had already been dug.
Chu Xun held a shovel, and after the coffin was lowered, he shoveled dirt into it.
After the grave mound was erected, Li Shoutian kicked Qi Ermao over.
Although not a son, Qi Ermao still wore mourning clothes, willingly knelt in front of the grave, and heavily kowtowed a few tis.
Half was kowtowed for himself, and half was kowtowed on behalf of Shitou.
Chu Xun stood behind watching, vaguely recalling in his mind the ti many years ago when he returned from the fields and passed by Shitou's house.
The bare-bottod baby, with dark buttocks, saying he forgot how to write "four".
The still-charming woman covering her mouth and chuckling at him, "What does that little girl know, do you want sister-in-law to teach you so?"
"It's only been a dozen years..."
Chu Xun sighed again, pinching a hand seal in his hand.
Continuous Rain Spell 1
The rule of the surrounding villages was that if there was rain during a burial, it was Heaven seeing them off, and they should be able to reincarnate well in the next life.
Pattering raindrops fell near the grave mound. Qi Ermao was covered in rainwater, shivering from the cold.
The rainwater flowed down his eyebrows and eyes, very cold, and also very salty.
He finally couldn't hold it in anymore, kneeling in front of the grave and crying out bitterly.
Regret.
Lingering fear.
Since then, Qi Ermao would go to Shitou's house once every day.
Chopping wood, carrying water.
He rushed to do the work in the fields.
Weeding, fertilizing, repelling insects, not missing a single day.
Chunni would often go to the house to help tidy up the chores and clean up.
Qiaohua held the infant in swaddling clothes, half her body sitting on the edge of the bed, blankly watching them busy themselves.
The large new house should have had three generations living together under one roof, happy and harmonious.
Now only she and the child were left. Although there were people coming and going every day, in her heart, she only felt lonely.
The infant didn't understand human affairs, only knowing to cry when hungry and look for milk to eat.
Qiaohua numbly pulled open her lapel, supporting the child's head and bringing it towards her bosom.
The child grabbed and gnawed, not finding the right place for a long ti. Just as he wanted to cry out a couple of tis, he felt sothing warm fall on his face.
He curiously opened his eyes wide, looking at his mother's wet chin.
Drop after drop of tears, turbid and unclear.
He reached out his chubby little hand and gently touched the teardrops.
The different sense of novelty made him giggle out loud.
Chunni, who was wiping the table, turned her head to look and saw Qiaohua's tear-blurred appearance.
Her heart tightened. She wanted to say sothing, but didn't know what to say.
In the following two years, the harvest of Shitou's family was even more than Qi Ermao's own family.
Despite this, whether it was Qi Ermao, his mother, or his wife Chunni, none of them had any objections.
This was owed to Shitou's family.
Two years later, a letter ca from Shitou, saying he had already beco a Squad Leader.
But the great war was still continuing, and he could not yet return ho.
Qiaohua was both surprised and delighted reading it. Her man wasn't dead, and had even beco an official!
Yet she didn't know that a Squad Leader was not a military officer. Although leading five soldiers, he was still a soldier.
————
Northern Desert Camp.
Although the horse tribes' invasion was repelled, their main force was not annihilated. They were still relentless and showed no intention of retreating.
The commanding general this ti was the Marquis of Anping, Yang Yi, who excelled at surprise attacks with unexpected troops.
During the chaos of war before the founding of the country, he once led two thousand n on a rapid march of eight hundred miles, taking down a large enemy city and capturing the wives, children, and elders of over seventy percent of the generals.
Causing their morale to collapse, ultimately falling short of success at the last stage.
In this horse tribe invasion, the Marquis of Anping's prestige was undiminished from those years, frequently coming up with brilliant stratagems.
It was just that counterattacking the Northern Desert, the weather here was freezing cold and the terrain was complex.
Deserts, Gobi, grasslands; if they hid, they couldn't be found at all.
The large army had been here for dozens of days, yet had never found the remaining main force of the enemy. Worried about the supply of provisions and fodder, quite a few people had already proposed retreating first.
The Marquis of Anping, however, didn't want to leave just like this. He was already advanced in years, and might not have another opportunity to co out and fight any major battles in the future.
This battle was very likely his final glory, how could he leave behind regrets.
Inside the camp tent, all military officers of Colonel rank and above had arrived.
During the chaos of war, the Marquis of Anping had personal guards instigated to rebel, and nearly had his head chopped off in the night. Therefore, he did not allow military officers to bring bladed weapons into the tent.
A large number of various weapons were placed on the open ground outside the tent.
So Centurions and Platoon Commanders gathered in twos and threes, discussing whether to retreat or continue attacking.
Further down were the unranked ones like Squad Leaders. Similarly gathered in twos and threes, they were instead discussing what there was to eat and drink in their hotowns, and whose won were better looking.
The cold wind blew over, freezing everyone into shivering and cursing, "What kind of hellish place is this, how can the horse tribes grow so big living here?"
Many people simply threw their weapons on the ground, otherwise holding them in their hands was piercingly cold and very uncomfortable.
At this ti, a Squad Leader wearing a half-body cloth-faced armor walked over.
The so-called cloth-faced armor was actually just a few pieces of broken iron nailed onto thick cotton cloth, better than nothing.
It was already so dirty that its original color couldn't be seen, covered in the sand and dust of the Northern Desert, looking more like a hard clod of earth.
Arriving in front of the large tent, he looked down at the various weapons on the ground. After carefully identifying them, he bent down and picked up one of the goose-quill sabers with an ox-horn handle.
The iron cloud-patterned hand guard had its edges worn smooth, showing at a glance that it was held year-round.
The wrought iron scabbard was inlaid with two brass ornants, and the character "Zhou" was engraved on the ornants.
It was very heavy, and also very cold, no different from a block of ice.
This young Squad Leader suddenly pulled open the clothes at his chest and stuffed the entire saber inside.
[End of Chapter]
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