Chapter 1

When my mother gave birth to me, she lost a lot of blood and barely survived.

For several years after that, she couldn’t get pregnant again.

The village midwife said she was probably hurt and would never have another child.

I was four years old the year we split the family with my uncle.

Dad was furious: “I paid most of the money and did most of the work to build the new house. Why do I only get the mud-brick house?”

Aunt lifted her shirt to nurse my cousin: “You don’t have a son, so why do you need such a big house?”

“Look, I have three boys. When they get married, they’ll need a place to live!”

Grandma chimed in: “Girls will get married sooner or later. You’ll have to rely on your nephew to take care of you in old age!”

Dad’s spirit was crushed in an instant.

It sounds ridiculous now, doesn’t it?

But nephews were considered family, while daughters were seen as belonging to someone else. That kind of thinking was common back then.

Dad came out of the main room and sat on the big stone in the yard with his head down.

The moonlight was bright, casting a deep shadow beside him.

I walked over and hugged his neck from behind: “Dad, I’ll take care of you and Mom when you’re old.”

He patted the back of my hand, his voice choked: “Good girl, Xiaxia.”

In the end, we moved into the mud-brick house.

The old ox and the plowing tools all went to my uncle.

All we got was a nearly broken foot-powered rice thresher.

On the night we moved, Mom tried again and again to light the fire under the stove, but it just wouldn’t catch.

The house had been built by my great-grandfather, using yellow clay bricks and a thatched roof.

No one had lived there for a long time, so the dampness inside wouldn’t go away anytime soon.

Mom used up an entire box of matches. Suddenly, she covered her face, her shoulders shaking.

Dad poured the water he’d carried into the cracked water jar, then silently walked over to her.

Mom hugged his waist and burst into tears.

That night, I slept in the bed in the north wing. The cold wind poked at me from every gap in the walls.

I curled up under the stiff cotton quilt and prayed silently: Please let Mom have a little brother.

Then maybe she and Dad wouldn’t be so sad.

Maybe my prayers were heard by the Heavenly Lord, because soon after, Mom became pregnant.