Volume 1, Chapter 6: The Widow Abandoned by Her Sons During the Famine 6

“Madam Mo! Madam Mo! Someone from the village in the mountain hollow next door has arrived! They’re already at the village entrance!”

A boy of about eight or nine dashed in through the door. He was Acai’s little companion, Chen Huzi, the youngest son of Aunt Cuìhuā from the neighboring village.

Mo Mo paused her work, tossed the shoe sole into the sewing basket, and stood up. “They’re here. What’s the matter, Huzi?”

“I don’t know,” Huzi scratched his head and grinned. “I just heard her asking where your house is.”

“Wait here.” Mo Mo headed to the kitchen and returned with two pieces of osmanthus cake, handing them to him.

“Take one for yourself, and the other for your mother. She loves these sweet treats.”

Huzi accepted them shyly; every time he came, Aunt Mo always gave him delicious food. He loved visiting her house.

After happily thanking her, he trotted off lightly.

A little while later, a woman in her late twenties, wearing a headscarf and carrying a bamboo basket, entered the doorway.

“Excuse me, is this Chen Ling’s maternal home?”

“Yes, it is. Little sister, who might you be?” Mo Mo greeted her.

“I’m from the mountain hollow village next door. I was heading to the county town to buy some things today. Ling asked me to bring you a message—she won’t be able to come see you this month because of some matters. This basket contains some eggs and a pair of shoes she made for you.”

She handed over the basket. “I have to go now.”

Mo Mo hurriedly took the basket and asked her to wait a moment. She returned with some pieces of cake to give her before seeing her off.

Mo Mo had been living here for over half a month now. Today was the day the eldest daughter came back to visit the original owner.

Chen Ling was sixteen this year and had been married for nearly a year.

The two villages weren’t far apart—about seven or eight kilometers—and no matter the weather, she always came back to visit her mother every month.

“She’s been beaten by her husband; her body is covered in bruises, which is why she can’t come back,” Sanbao snarled. “That Wang Wenxuan looks like a refined little white-faced scholar, but he has two faces—one in front of others and another behind their backs.

He studies in the county but skips class daily to drink and laze around with classmates. When he comes home, he gets drunk and beats his wife mercilessly. Yet before the villagers, he puts on the image of a respectable young gentleman.

This isn’t the first time he’s laid hands on his wife. This time, it was worse. When Chen Ling fought back, her mother-in-law saw it and, together with her son, beat her up!”

Mo Mo’s anger flared like a fire in her chest. “Damn it! That bastard’s looking for death!”

She slammed the door shut, locked it, rolled up her sleeves, and stormed off towards the village chief’s house.

Acai was playing next door at Aunt Cuìhuā’s with Huzi.

Seeing her mother so furious, Huzi tossed half a piece of osmanthus cake into his arms and immediately followed her.

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