Ch 8: The Farmer Ger in the Apocalypse

Second Aunt Lian sat and chatted with Miao Shi for a while before getting up to leave with her daughter. “I still have pigs to feed at home. If I feed them a little late, they won’t starve, but my sister-in-law will definitely have something to say about it.”

Her expression carried a hint of helplessness. No one’s life was perfect—she had a harmonious marriage, sons and gers, and a mother-in-law who wasn’t particularly difficult. But she also had a saozi (her husband’s elder brother’s wife) who was always looking for an opportunity to compete with her.

She planned to go home and finish her chores first, then return later with the other women to help Miao Shi and Shen Qing tidy up the house. Heavy lifting and manual labor were things Miao Xing and Miao Wang could handle, but when it came to organizing and cleaning, the women and fulangs were better suited for the task.

Miao Shi had been weak ever since her difficult childbirth years ago, and she had relied on Shen Qing to do much of the heavy work in the Shen household. The women and fulangs who were close to her all felt sorry for her, so they had agreed to come later and lend a hand. They would also bring homemade food, treating it as both a celebration of Miao Shi escaping her suffering and a housewarming gift for her new home.

On the way back, Second Aunt Lian sighed to her daughter, “Qing Ge’er is such a filial child—smart, capable, and with a good head on his shoulders. It’s just a pity his looks are a bit lacking, and his marriage prospects were delayed by the Shen family.”

In the village, calling a ger or a girl “someone with a strong mind” wasn’t always a compliment. In fact, it often carried a subtle criticism. Society expected gers and women to be obedient and submissive, treating their fathers and husbands as the center of their world. If someone was too opinionated, they wouldn’t easily fit into that mold.

But Second Aunt Lian genuinely believed that Qing Ge’er having his own ideas was a good thing. “With the way the old Shen family is, if he didn’t have his own plans, the two of them would’ve been eaten down to the bone. Back then, I even thought about arranging a match between Qing Ge’er and your eldest brother, but your grandmother despised Old Lady Shen too much and refused to be in-laws with that family, so that was the end of it.”

Her eldest son was a year younger than Shen Qing and had already married a fulang, who happened to be the nephew of Village Chief Zhao. Their marriage was harmonious, so she didn’t dwell on it. Instead, she just told her daughter, “From now on, don’t play with that Shen Xiaojun.”

“I never play with Shen Xiaojun,” Lian Rong said, swinging her empty basket as she followed her mother. “Who says Brother Qing isn’t good-looking? I think the village boys are just jealous and deliberately badmouth him. If Brother Qing were a man, I’d marry him! There’s not a single boy in the village better looking than him.”

Second Aunt Lian couldn’t help but laugh at her daughter’s childish words. “You’re so young, and you’re already thinking about marriage? Have some shame!” But after thinking about it, she agreed, “If Qing Ge’er were a man, he’d be extremely handsome. He’s tall and straight. But unfortunately, he’s a ger, and men don’t like gers who look like that.”

Lian Rong pouted at that, muttering, “Why should we care what they like?”

Second Aunt Lian didn’t catch what her daughter said. Seeing that they had arrived home, she instructed, “Go fetch a basket of pig fodder for me, then soak the dirty clothes with soapberry in the basin.”

By the age of seven or eight, girls could already help with chores. Second Aunt Lian was kind to her children and wouldn’t make them do heavy labor, but small tasks like these were within reason.

From the east wing, ever since Second Aunt Lian had entered the house, a woman had been peeking through the window crack, watching closely. When she saw Lian Rong finish soaking the clothes and run outside to play, she retracted her gaze and curled her lips. She aggressively stitched at the shoe insole in her hand, muttering, “A little girl, and they won’t even let her do chores. How precious does she think she is?”

---

The day after leaving the Shen family, Shen Qing began his daily routine of chopping wood and selling firewood.

He could cut a full load of firewood in a day, and if he was quick on his feet and returned early, he could make another trip up the mountain to gather wild vegetables. One day he chopped wood, the next day he carried it to the county to sell, always bringing back small essentials—because truly, they lacked everything after leaving the Shen family!

The bedding wasn’t enough, so they had to spread thick layers of straw on the kang for warmth. They had no carrying pole for fetching water, and with only a single clay pot for both cooking porridge and storing water, Shen Qing had to make multiple trips to the village well every day. The kitchen was empty, with no proper cooking utensils, so Shen Qing cut a tree stump to use as a chopping board. They needed needles and thread, oil, salt, sauces—every little thing.

Every day required some new purchase, so even after selling firewood for over a month, though he had made quite a bit of money, there wasn’t much left in hand.

But despite their tight finances and the hard work, the mother and son’s spirits improved with each passing day.

Miao Shi woke up early. Just as the sky was beginning to lighten, she entered the kitchen in the dim light. She was unwilling to waste oil for the lamp, but after living in this house for over a month, she had grown familiar enough to move around without light. She began preparing breakfast and packing dry food for Shen Qing to take up the mountain.

Behind the house, she had started a small vegetable patch with seeds that Second Aunt Lian had given her. The plants were still seedlings and not yet ready for harvest, so most of their meals still came from foraged wild vegetables. Friends among the village women and fulangs would sometimes bring her extra produce from their own gardens, as it was common to grow more than a family could eat.

A month earlier, after the autumn harvest, Miao Xing and Miao Wang had brought them half a sack of sweet potatoes and half a sack of potatoes—over a hundred pounds in total. They had also taken the peanuts from the Shen family and sold them in the county, exchanging them not for grain but for coins, so they could buy fresh when needed. With just the two of them eating, it wouldn’t be difficult to make their supplies last.

Including the grain they received from the Shen family, they had a little over two hundred pounds left, plus the potatoes and sweet potatoes from Miao Xing and Miao Wang. If they were frugal, they could stretch it for nearly a year. But Shen Qing didn’t intend to be frugal. He had suffered hunger before and had developed an attachment to good food. More importantly, Miao Shi’s health had never been good—wasn’t it only right for her to eat better?

Shen Qing had been making plans in his heart. By next spring, when winter wheat was harvested, he could buy grain directly from the villagers. It would be cheaper than the county’s grain stores, and since villagers wouldn’t have to transport it to town themselves, many would be happy to sell to him.

That meant they only needed enough food to last until then, which they had plenty of.

Miao Xing had also promised, “We planted a lot of cabbage, autumn radishes, and pumpkins this year. Once we harvest, we’ll bring some over. Your sister-in-law says your pickled vegetable skills are the best—she wants to trouble you to make some for us this year.”

Just thinking about pickled vegetables made Shen Qing’s mouth water. He loved them. Back at the Shen household, when all the good food went to others, pickled vegetables were one of the few flavorful things he could eat. The only downside was that they made him hungrier.

But to pickle vegetables, they needed a proper pickling jar, which they didn’t have. Shen Qing sighed inwardly. They were still too poor. Every little thing required careful planning. He needed to work hard before winter to buy the most essential items.

Miao Shi’s pickling skills were well-known in Shiqu Village. When she was still unmarried, everyone praised her ability to make excellent pickled vegetables. In the past, the Miao family hadn’t wanted to call her back just to make some. But now that she had separated from the Shen family, it was much easier.

As for the Shen family, not long after the autumn harvest, Shen Zhigao officially married Widow Li. It had stirred up gossip in the village once again. By then, Widow Li’s belly had started to show, and the villagers—including those from nearby villages—had been talking behind their backs. But Widow Li didn’t care. She acted like she had won, parading around with her pregnant belly like a war hero.

Nowadays, neither Shen Qing nor Miao Shi had any interest in Shen family affairs.

The weather was getting colder, and the villagers were preparing for winter. Firewood prices in town were creeping upward, and Shen Qing planned to take full advantage of it. He wanted to chop and stockpile as much as possible, then rent an ox cart to haul it into town when the weather turned too harsh to chop more. Without having to spend an entire day carrying wood on foot, he could cut several extra loads, maximizing his earnings before the New Year.

Some villagers owned ox carts and would rent them for half a day at ten coins—a fair deal.

These days, Shen Qing spent full days up in the mountains. Miao Shi made sure to prepare his food in advance so he could bring it with him. She was a good cook, and though the food was simple—mostly coarse grain and wild vegetable pancakes—it was well-prepared and filling.

She mixed bean flour and sorghum flour with sourdough starter, letting it rise for an hour before rolling it out paper-thin. A small amount of wheat flour, salt, a pinch of Sichuan pepper powder, and a handful of chopped scallions were mixed with hot oil to make a fragrant spread. She evenly coated the dough with it, layered it with finely chopped wild greens, cut the edges, and folded it into a neat, round pancake. Once steamed, the pancake became thick, soft, and full of layers.

Though still a bit rough in texture, it was savory and satisfying.

She regretted not having a cast-iron pan to make better pancakes, but iron was expensive. Buying a pan would cost three to four qian of silver—a significant expense. For now, they had to make do with clay pots and steaming baskets.

Once breakfast and dry rations were ready, Miao Shi called for Shen Qing to wake up.

Shen Qing was even stronger than he had been two months ago. At first glance, he seemed to have lost weight, but beneath his clothes, his muscles were firmer, and his face had shed some of its youthful roundness, becoming sharper and more defined. Miao Shi had also gained some weight; she no longer looked like she would topple over with a gust of wind. Her face was fuller, her cheeks rounder, and she looked much healthier.

Shen Qing quickly pulled on his clothes, a willow twig clenched between his teeth as he cleaned them. Peering into the kitchen, he mumbled, “Let’s have eggs for dinner? It’s been a while since we had any.”

“Didn’t we just have them three days ago?” Miao Shi sighed helplessly.

Since moving here, she had bought some chicks to raise in the yard, but they hadn’t started laying eggs yet. If they wanted eggs, they had to buy them from others—two eggs for a single coin. Miao Shi was reluctant to spend the money.

Qing Ge’er was too generous with their spending, especially when it came to food. Unlike most villagers, who scrimped and saved, he made sure they ate well. But without land of their own, Miao Shi never felt completely at ease. They had been away from the Shen family for over a month, yet sometimes she still felt like she was dreaming. Their days were so much better than before—almost too good to be real. The more money they spent, the more anxious she felt.

“Your Aunt Xiaoyan thinned out her radishes yesterday and gave me a basket of radish greens. We’ll have those mixed with sauce for dinner,” she said.

As she spoke, Miao Shi finished cutting the freshly steamed pancakes into six pieces, each nearly the size of a palm. She picked out two pieces and placed them in a small woven basket, while the rest were packed into a cloth bag—Shen Qing’s lunch for the day when he went up the mountain.

Miao Shi had a small appetite, so she only took half a bowl of porridge and a small piece of pancake. Shen Qing, on the other hand, drank more than half a pot of porridge, eating as he silently calculated how much he could earn from the firewood he had stockpiled.

A large jar for pickling vegetables, a clay pot for making preserved greens, thick blankets and warm clothes for the winter—there were so many things they still needed. If he could squeeze out a bit more money, he could finally buy an iron wok. That way, they wouldn’t have to eat radish greens raw—they could stir-fry them instead.

When they first moved out, he had been full of confidence. But now that they were actually living on their own, he realized that while they wouldn’t starve, money was still tight at every turn.

Still, Shen Qing wasn’t discouraged. He simply thought that if he gritted his teeth, worked harder, and pushed through, no hardship would be too great to overcome.

◦°˚(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦