Chapter 2: My Brother Is So Amazing

But what did envy or jealousy matter, when it was simply impossible to imitate this? All they could do was watch.

“My brother’s amazing, isn’t he?” Little Melon Seed lifted her chin proudly, casting a triumphant look at the four or five children on the bridge.

“Amazing, my foot!” the chubby-headed leader retorted, refusing to admit defeat. “Yeah, right. We have cattle at home too. I’ll bring our cow over in a bit and pick all the wild strawberries by the riverbank.”

With a glare at Little Melon Seed, he stormed off with the others in tow.

Liu Xing paid them no further mind. He simply lifted his shirt and began to gather wild strawberries until he could carry no more, then sat astride his black calf and returned to the bridge.

“Here, eat as you like,” Liu Xing said, presenting the wild strawberries to Little Melon Seed.

“Mm! Mm!” she eagerly scooped them into her roomy jacket pocket, her joy as lively and adorable as a little sprite. Only when her pocket was full did she pop one into her mouth. “Wow! So sweet!”

“Brother, you have some too, they’re really sweet.” She picked a handful and stood on tiptoe to offer them to Liu Xing.

“I’ll pass for now. You eat,” Liu Xing replied fondly, ruffling her hair. “I’ll go pick some more, so we can bring some home for Mom and Dad.”

In the countryside of the 1980s, fruit was a rare treat; if you craved any, you had to make do with wild berries to satisfy that longing. And wild strawberries were among the very best.

But adults were busy in the fields from dawn to dusk and had no time to forage. So Liu Xing thought of bringing some home as a gift for his parents—a token for their first meeting since his rebirth, an idea that made his heart beat faster.

Little Melon Seed had no inkling of Liu Xing’s thoughts, but neither did she stop him. Instead, she stationed herself by the woven bag, watching as Liu Xing rode the black calf down to the river again.

There were still plenty of wild strawberries tangled among the brambles lining the riverbank, stretching for several kilometers. Yet the water was too deep in some places even for the black calf, so Liu Xing limited himself to picking only around Little Melon Seed.

When he’d gathered enough, he tightened the rope and led the black calf back to the bridge. As the calf turned, the river water became muddied.

Liu Xing took no notice, but in the next instant, a large carp—four or five pounds at least—leaped from the river, splashing before vanishing from sight.

“Brother, a fish! There’s a fish!” Little Melon Seed called out excitedly, pointing at the water.

“I saw it, but I can’t catch it,” Liu Xing replied helplessly with a shake of his head.

Little Melon Seed pouted but said no more. She knew Liu Xing spoke the truth. If it were easy to catch the carp in this river, they wouldn’t be called carp.

Yet sometimes, things happen in the strangest ways. Just as the black calf was about to climb the bank, another carp, this one two or three pounds, was startled and jumped from the water. But instead of vanishing, it landed on the riverbank, thrashing and slapping its tail in a desperate bid to return to the water.

“Brother, catch the fish!” Little Melon Seed shouted anxiously. Without hesitation, she dashed forward.

Liu Xing shook his head at her, set down the wild strawberries on the grass, and sprinted after her. He didn’t worry about the black calf, knowing his well-fed animal wouldn’t stray.

By now, Little Melon Seed had thrown herself onto the carp, clutching it with all her might to prevent its escape. In the countryside, fish was as rare and precious as meat, and could only be enjoyed during festivals or the New Year. To have caught one now was a stroke of incredible luck—she was not about to let it go.

Liu Xing felt a pang of affection for her effort. He hooked a finger into the carp’s mouth and lifted it easily. “All right, Little Melon Seed, it won’t escape now.”

“Hee hee… We can have fish tonight!” Little Melon Seed cheered, getting to her feet.

“It’s a carp, not just any fish,” Liu Xing corrected her.

“Ca…carp?” she repeated with difficulty.

“All right, it’s fish,” Liu Xing relented, not wanting to quibble. He found a vine, threaded the carp onto it, and gathered the wild strawberries into his jacket.

“Brother, I’ll carry the fish,” Little Melon Seed offered, taking it from him. She thought it would be easy, but in the next moment her face turned red with the effort—she couldn’t lift it.

‘Carry’ was her way of saying ‘hold.’ Amused by her struggle, Liu Xing laughed. “If you can’t lift it, then don’t. Help with the wild strawberries. Don’t worry, I’ll tell Mom and Dad that it was you who caught the carp.”

“Hee hee…” Little Melon Seed giggled in embarrassment, flashing a row of white, even teeth.

“Let’s go home.” Liu Xing, a carp in one hand and the black calf in the other, headed back toward the earthen-brick house at the foot of the eastern mountain, Little Melon Seed chattering beside him as the sun dipped low.

Neither sibling noticed that not long after they left, the other children from before returned to the bridge, this time leading two water buffaloes. Clearly, they intended to do as Liu Xing had done and pick wild strawberries from the riverside.

But things did not go as planned. Their buffaloes were uncooperative and, once in the river, wandered off wildly, nearly drowning the children perched on their backs.

They barely scrambled ashore, only to look back and see their buffaloes already far downstream. The children were left on the bank, close to tears.

Only then did they realize the truth: only Liu Xing had the skill to ride a calf and pick wild strawberries; for them, it was a futile dream. Any attempt at imitation would only end in disaster.

Alas, realization came too late. With the sun setting and darkness falling, recovering their runaway buffaloes would be nearly impossible.

Left with no choice, the children hurried home to fetch help, their cries and shouts echoing across Flint Village, lingering long in the evening air.

At the foot of Stone Bull Mountain stood a cluster of a dozen or so earthen-brick houses. The easternmost of these was Liu Xing’s home.

He and his sister had not yet arrived when they spotted a middle-aged woman working in the drying yard. She was just over forty, her long braid reaching her waist, two vivid red patches mended on her shoulders—this was Liu Xing’s mother, Zhou Qiuxiang, a diligent and honest countrywoman.

Liu Xing saw that his mother looked much younger than he remembered, and his eyes grew red. But to avoid arousing suspicion, he quickly drew a deep breath and forced down his emotions.

“Mama, Mama! Look at what I did today!” Little Melon Seed called out before Liu Xing could speak, struggling to take the carp from his hands. “I caught a carp in the river. We can have fish soup tonight!”

Her sweet, sticky voice brought Zhou Qiuxiang out of her work. She looked up and, seeing her daughter holding a carp of two or three pounds, her eyes widened in surprise. “Little rascal, don’t tell tall tales! Will you die if you don’t exaggerate?”

She spoke affectionately, not unkindly, but Little Melon Seed pouted in protest. “When have I ever lied? Ask my brother if you don’t believe me.”

“Is it true?” Zhou Qiuxiang turned to Liu Xing, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

“It’s true,” Liu Xing replied.

“Really?” Zhou Qiuxiang sounded incredulous.

Liu Xing explained with a grin, “I was picking wild strawberries on the black calf’s back in the river when the water got stirred up and startled a carp. The one Little Melon Seed is holding jumped onto the bank, and she was quick enough to catch it.”

“So the carp delivered itself into her hands?” Zhou Qiuxiang asked, trying not to laugh.

“More or less,” Liu Xing said.

“This little rascal, you’re lucky today.” Zhou Qiuxiang took the carp from her daughter’s hands. “No more to say—we’ll have an extra dish tonight.”

“Yay!” Little Melon Seed cheered.

Liu Xing was happy too. Seeing that night was coming on fast, he led the black calf to the cowshed—a small, low earthen-brick building to the west of the drying yard, crowded with ropes and gear. The moment the black calf approached, the sharp drone of cattle flies was already audible.