Chapter 4

Zhou Chen didn’t come home until evening.

Once he finished selling pork, he looked for other work. If there was none, he went hunting in the mountains. He never let himself sit idle.

By the time he returned, supper was ready: four dishes and a soup, all steaming hot.

He looked around the courtyard as he washed his hands. The water jar was full. Split firewood had been stacked neatly. The yard was as tidy as a wealthy family’s. The chickens and ducks had been fed.

His mother had eaten and was sitting by the gate, mending clothes. His little girl, well fed and happy, was chasing the yellow dog. His baby boy had had his milk and was sleeping soundly in the cradle.

Usually, his mother couldn’t manage everything alone, and the house was in chaos.

He came inside and fixed his eyes on me.

“You don’t have to carry water or chop wood.”

I paused. “All the women in the village do.”

“You don’t have to.”

Perhaps he thought he had sounded too harsh, because he added, “That’s a man’s work.”

I stared at him.

After supper, he cleared the bowls and chopsticks himself. He didn’t leave the washing to me. Then he changed out of his greasy, dirty clothes.

I reached to take them, but he pulled his hand back.

“I’ll wash them.”

“You don’t want me to?” I asked, astonished.

“You’re tired, too.”

For a moment, I couldn’t speak.

Just then, Musheng began to cry. Looking thoroughly defeated, Zhou Chen headed toward the river with his clothes.

“You soothe him. I’ll wash.”

As if soothing a baby were harder than any other work.

I laughed and went to lift Musheng from the cradle, singing softly to settle him. From the edge of the courtyard, I could see Zhou Chen washing his clothes. His movements were rough and quick. I wasn’t sure how clean he got them.

But he really was so different from Qi Mingzhi.

When I married Qi Mingzhi, he wasn’t even a xiucai. All he had was two fen of poor farmland and three thatched rooms.

He thought of nothing but passing the examinations and spent every day reading. Everything at home fell to me: washing, cooking, sweeping, carrying water, chopping wood, working the fields, feeding the chickens and ducks.

We were often short of money. I had to wash and starch clothes for rich families to earn a few copper coins.

Old Madam Qi always said that once she had a daughter-in-law, she could enjoy an easy life. She wouldn’t even lend a hand with the cooking.

No matter how late I worked or how tired I was when I came home under the stars, she would scream at me. She called me lazy, accused me of sneaking off to meet men, and wailed to the neighbors that I was selfish and cruel, that I had left her precious son to starve.

Qi Mingzhi knew. He always told me to endure it.

“My mother lost her husband and raised me alone. She’s had such a hard life.”

“Be patient with her, my dear Yueniang. Once I’ve made something of myself, I’ll treat you well.”

I endured it, day after day. All it earned me was his betrayal and a divorce.

I didn’t know whether Zhou Chen was putting on an act or whether this was simply who he was.

If it was the latter, perhaps my life could finally be a little easier.