Chapter Fifty-Seven: The Little Snake Is Gone

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After walking for a while, the old woman no longer needed Le’er’s support; only Yinxiang continued to hold her arm.

“Child, what’s your name?” she asked.

“Grandmother, my name is Sha Le’er,” he replied.

“That’s a fine name. So young, and already a village official. You’ve got a bright future ahead,” the old woman said, her body slightly hunched. “You’re capable and kind-hearted. That heartless fool Sha Jinhai—so stupid and useless. If it hadn’t been for Yinxiang insisting on marrying him, I’d have never given him a second glance. He’s got no conscience; may he never die a good death.”

Luo Yinxiang and Sha Jinhai had been schoolmates. Sha Jinhai was quite handsome, which attracted Luo Yinxiang; they pledged themselves to each other while still at school. At that time, Luo Yinxiang’s family disliked Sha Jinhai’s poverty and refused to let her marry him, but she was determined, and they had no choice but to relent.

The old woman’s words stirred Luo Yinxiang’s memories. Back then, she had been so beautiful, with many suitors, yet she lost her head and insisted on marrying Sha Jinhai. Now, thinking back, her heart filled with resentment, and tears streamed down her face.

“Mother, Le’er saved my life. If not for him, your daughter would have been gone long ago.”

Luo Yinxiang wiped her tears and gazed at Le’er. If her mother hadn’t been beside her, she might have thrown herself into his arms, but now she only looked at him through tearful eyes. All the hatred she felt toward Sha Jinhai turned into tender affection for Le’er, though she dared not express it.

“What happened?” The old woman’s eyes blazed with anger. “Did that heartless Sha Jinhai try to kill you?”

“No…” Luo Yinxiang explained what had happened to her in Guangzhou, how she almost died.

“Damn him, so cruel-hearted…” Tears welled in the old woman’s eyes. “Le’er, thank you so much. Heaven and the Bodhisattva, if not for you, my daughter would have starved to death… That damn Sha Jinhai, I won’t let him go. I’ll pray to heaven every day, curse him every day, curse him to death.”

Le’er shuddered inwardly. There was a local custom: if you hated someone, you’d light incense and pray to heaven, then curse your enemy, and the heavens would punish them. Whether it worked was uncertain, but the practice chilled the heart.

“Grandmother, there’s no need. Evil never prospers,” Le’er said gently. “Yinxiang is blessed; even the Bodhisattva will protect her.”

“Child, you truly know how to speak,” the old woman turned to Yinxiang. “Daughter, tomorrow go home; there’s an old hen we’ve kept for eight years. Catch it and give it to Le’er as thanks. Good deeds are rewarded; child, you’ll surely be blessed.”

Here, gifting an old hen was the highest form of gratitude.

“Grandmother, the old hen is a great tonic,” Le’er smiled. “You should keep it to nourish yourself; I’m young and strong, if I eat any more, I’ll become fat.”

In this place, an old hen referred to an aged mother hen. People cherished them dearly—the older the hen, the greater its value. An eight-year-old hen was a rare treasure.

“You little rascal, do you think the gift is too light?” the old woman said, looking at Le’er. “You saved Yinxiang’s life; such a great favor isn’t repaid with just an old hen. But a small gift, deep feeling. I’ll come visit often in the future.”

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Le’er smiled wryly and nodded, having no choice but to accept the old hen. The old woman was one for clear distinctions—deeply loyal to those who were good to her, but to her enemies, she would curse their ancestors for generations.

They soon arrived home, where the elder uncle awaited. Upon seeing Yinxiang and her mother, Le’er introduced them, and the two elders quickly began chatting.

“Old sister-in-law, please sit,” the uncle said with a broad smile. “I know the Luo family from Zhushan well—there’s Luo Kun, an old friend; we used to work together making paper.”

“Luo Kun? He’s from our branch.”

Le’er poured them tea, then went into the kitchen with Luo Yinxiang. She washed rice and prepared to cook, while Le’er crouched on the floor, picking vegetables.

“Yinxiang, Uncle Shengshu and his wife have suffered enough. Don’t take it out on them anymore,” Le’er said softly. “If you have anger, direct it at Sha Jinhai, but don’t torment the old folks.”

Luo Yinxiang nodded.

“I haven’t even told my mother about it; otherwise, she would have made a scene long ago,” tears glistened in Yinxiang’s eyes. “I won’t argue with Sha Jinhai’s parents anymore, either. I don’t want to deal with them or make trouble. As long as I have you, even if I’m angry, I’ll be at peace.”

“Hey, why drag me into this?” Le’er looked at her, slightly annoyed. She wriggled her hips, cheeks flushed.

“I’m just saying… look at you, getting all anxious,” she pouted. “Don’t worry, I won’t cling to you. Once you have a wife, I’ll go far away… You’re a bachelor, I’m a woman who’s already been married—I know where the boundaries lie.”

She bumped him playfully, her laughter tinged with bitterness, and tears flowed again for no apparent reason. Le’er’s face grew red, and he gazed at her, his heart softening; his eyes became gentle as he wiped her tears.

“If I were still a maiden, I’d marry you for sure; I’d cling to you no matter what.”

She said softly, her eyes full of charm.

Finally, Yinxiang’s mother was sent away. The days passed quickly; the weather cooled, and the snakes were preparing for hibernation. The house was renovated, the furniture crafted. Carpenter Luo found him an old cabinet—not as grand as a carved bed, but fitting, and it only cost a hundred yuan.

The craftsmen left, and the house suddenly became peaceful. With no reason to cook, Luo Yinxiang couldn’t find excuses to stay, so Le’er paid her a sum calculated at twenty yuan a day for labor. She refused to accept it, but Le’er forced her to take it.

Then one day, he suddenly noticed that the little snake Jin’er hadn’t come home. The first day, he wasn’t worried, thinking the snake was just playing outside and forgot to return. But on the second day, Jin’er was still missing, and the third day brought no trace. Now Le’er grew anxious and searched everywhere.

“Could someone have stolen it?” the uncle worried with him.

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“No one could steal it,” Le’er said, his face haggard. “But… I just don’t know…”

Anxious and burning with worry, Le’er set out every day with his yellow dog, searching the mountains, rivers, and asking everyone he met. Not a single clue. In just five or six days, he had clearly lost weight.

“Le’er, your snake’s missing?” Tao Wen said, somewhat gleeful. Le’er glared at him and left the village committee’s office in a huff, heading back up the mountain to search. Secretary Tao was concerned for him, and Tian Sihua also tried to comfort him several times.

Luo Yinxiang helped in the search.

“Le’er, I don’t believe Jin’er is lost,” Yinxiang said, looking at him. “Think about it—no one could steal Jin’er, and no one could kill it.”

“But where could it have gone?”

“Maybe it went to find its companions?” Yinxiang looked at him warmly, a gentle smile appearing on her lips. “It couldn’t have sprung from a crack in the rocks; there must be other snakes like it. Maybe it found a mate and is lost in love.”

Le’er’s eyes brightened.

“Yes, that’s possible.”

“So don’t worry. Eat well—look at you, skinny as a monkey, it pains me to see it.”

A smile returned to Le’er’s face. But the weather had turned cold, and the snakes in the snake garden had stopped eating, ready for winter. If Jin’er didn’t return soon, it wouldn’t come back this year. If it did, it would only be next spring.

Seeing Le’er’s color improve, Luo Yinxiang slipped into his arms, wrapping hers around his waist.

“You’ve been so absent these days, I worry for you. If your wife ran away, you wouldn’t be this heartbroken,” she said with a flirtatious look. “If you treated me with even a hundredth of this care, I’d die content.”

Le’er said nothing, only kissed her softly. These days, she had worked hard to help him search, cooked for him every day; otherwise, he wouldn’t have managed.

She wriggled gently in his embrace, her cheeks flushed.

“Le’er, you should bathe,” she whispered. “You haven’t washed for days, you smell. Why don’t we enjoy a lovers’ bath together?”

She felt him grow hard beneath her, and joy filled her heart. She pressed herself against him, his flesh firmly against her belly, then her small hand slid down and gently grasped him.

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