CH 7

The storyteller hadn’t arrived yet, so the children were running around playing. The village idiot Er Dan was running along with them, giggling all the time.

One by one, the villagers came to the threshing field and called their children to sit down in the seats they had chosen.

Mr. Tian brought over a desk from the school, and Cao Zhang carried a lantern to light the way for him. The table was set up under the big acacia tree where the bell hung, and Cao Zhang found a suitable branch to hang the lantern on.

Once it was set up, the two men stepped back and stood aside.

Immediately afterwards, an old gentleman who must’ve been the scholar stepped forward. He had a short white beard and ash-grey clothes.

He stood behind the desk, took a piece of wood out of his sleeve and rapped it on the table. He said, “Hello everyone. I am here today to tell stories and earn a living in Chenzhong Village.” He clasped his hands and bowed to the crowd.

Perhaps because of his age, the old man seemed a little short of breath and his voice was a little hoarse. It didn’t sound very pleasing to the ear.

The crowd quieted down and the children all took their seats. Even Er Dan quieted down.

“Today I’ll share a tale of the Chu and Han empires. Xiang Yu, the emperor of West Chu ……”

Although the hegemon was brave, it was a tragic story. When the story ended, the old men sighed, the young men felt upset and the girls felt bad for the emperor’s most beloved consort.

When he finished, Uncle Shunzi, the village’s governing official, placed a bowl on the desk, and the villagers came forward to pour wheat wrapped in handkerchiefs or held in containers into the bowl.

Mo Yan had no idea when Mrs. Liang arrived, but she went forward with a small bag wrapped in a handkerchief and opened it to reveal two eggs, “Mr. storyteller, these are the salted eggs I made. Please try them!

The old gentleman took the salted eggs and thanked her repeatedly, but at that moment, Mo Feng appeared from nowhere and asked, “Mum, you didn’t even give me the salted eggs yet! Why did you give them to him?”

Liang put her handkerchief away and pretended to scold him, “There are still more in the jar! I have enough salted eggs for you.”

While pulling up Mo Yan and putting away the straw mats Mo Ling said, “She just wants to be respected by others, doesn’t she!”

The other families gave them wheat that had only just been threshed, and it probably wasn’t the cream of the crop. But Mrs. Liang gave two salted eggs that she didn’t bear to give to her own children.

The whole village now knew that not only was Mrs. Liang a good housekeeper, she was also kind-hearted and had good family conditions. After all, salted eggs weren’t something that anyone could afford to, or were willing to give to others.

After that, the crowd dispersed, and the only thing left on the threshing field were piles of threshed wheat that hadn’t been collected yet. Mr Tian started moving the table and Cao Zhang took the lantern again as they headed towards the school.

Mo Ling held tightly to Mo Yan’s little hand, fearing that she would get lost.

“Sis, this storyteller collects wheat when he tells stories?”

“If the wheat is not good enough, what else would he collect? Money?”

After Mo Yan thought about it a bit, most of the people in this village were in a similar financial situation as the Mo family. Who would give money to a storyteller! This is just after the harvest too. If it was winter, no one would be willing to even give this much.

When they returned home, Mo Feng said that this year’s storyteller wasn’t very good. According to him, it wasn’t exciting and the combat scenes were dull and lifeless.

She remembered what Lu Junming had said about how she could become a storyteller and make some money.

She knew a lot of stories!

“Sister, can I become a storyteller?”

Before Mo Ling could answer, Mo Feng laughed at her, “Forget it! You? Become a storyteller?”

“What’s wrong with that? I know a lot of stories, so I’ll tell whatever people want to hear!”

Mo Feng laughed, “You can tell whatever they want to hear, so you can tell dirty stories too?”

Mrs. Liang reached out and poked him in the head, “You’re talking nonsense again. All sorts of people listen to stories. If you dare tell a dirty one, you might not even leave of the village!”

None of them took her seriously. But there was one thing they did take seriously, and that was the salted eggs Mrs. Liang made.

The few chickens in the yard fed themselves and didn’t lay many eggs, so it wasn’t easy to save a few. They only steamed a few of Mrs. Liang’s salted eggs every day during the harvest. Even Mo Ling misses them!

Mo Ling asked, “Mum, since there are still some salted eggs left, let’s eat them! If they’re left for any longer, they’ll start to stink!”

Salted eggs had to be salted for just the right amount of time before turning oily. If they are salted for too long, even the egg whites will turn black and start to stink.

Mrs. Liang smiled smugly, “I marked the eggs and put them into the salting jar in waves, so they won’t stink!”

At the mention of good food, Mo Feng’s mind immediately lit up, “That means there’s one wave that’s oozing with oil right now!” He couldn’t help but swallow his saliva as he said this, and his gluttonous side was showing through.

Mrs. Liang started fanning herself with a paper fan, “I’ll cook some for you tomorrow!”

Her mum was much better when she was generous than when she was scolding people!

As she lay on the bed, Mo Yan was still thinking about storytelling. She was silently rehearsing in her mind, imagining what it would be like if she went up there and told stories.

The next day, she went to the pond to check on the ducks as usual, and Lu Junming came over with a fishing rod in his hand. He knew he wouldn’t be able to catch any fish, so he didn’t even bring a small bucket.

“Lu Junming, did you go listen to the storyteller yesterday?” Mu Yan asked.

“I did.”

“Then how come I didn’t see you?”

“I arrived late, stood at the back, and left early, so you couldn’t see me.”

“What do you think of his storytelling?”

“It’s not as good as yours!”

This was the only person who had ever complimented her so much.

“Really?”

She waited for Lu Junming’s next comment with anticipation.

Lu Junming twisted his head towards her and smiled faintly, “Really. If you go up there and start telling stories, everyone will definitely like it!”

Who wouldn’t feel sweet when they were praised and encouraged? Mo Yan smiled happily at him and said, “Lu Junming, you look good when you smile!”

Lu Junming tried to suppress it, but the corners of his lips still rose involuntarily, “Stop joking around!”

With storytelling in mind, Mo Yan didn’t tell Lu Junming a story today. [1]

It was almost noon, and the birds in the willow trees were chirping louder and louder, making people’s eardrums hurt.

Lu Junming put away his fishing rod and stood up, “It’s too hot today. Let’s go back!” After saying that, he started walking away

When she returned home, she saw her second grandma, who had a pot in her hands and was going to fetch water from the well.

“Second grandma, why did you wait until it was so hot to fetch water?”

She was still smiling, “It’s hot, so I want to drink the cold water from the well. Give me a second and I’ll get some for you too.”

Mo Yan waited for her grandmother to fetch water.

When she returned with a full pot of water, Mo Yan asked, “Second grandma, why doesn’t Mrs. Ho go fetch water?” [2]

Mo Yan’s second grandma sat down and drank some cool water from the rim of the jar, then let out a long, contented breath.

“Your sister brings her a quart of water every day, so she doesn’t need to fetch it herself.”

“Then why doesn’t sis send you a quart of water too?”

“Silly girl, your sister would be tired from all that exertion! It’s not like I can’t move, I can fetch my own water from this well.”

Post-edit notes: I feel like the author supports Mo Yan and Lu Junming. Which seems like an interesting pairing.

[1] That seems contradictory to her goals. After all, practice makes perfect.

[2] If you’ve forgotten already, Mrs. Ho is the name of Mo Yan’s grandma.