Chapter 3: The Shan Family

 

Outside Bianjing, there were both larger and smaller towns and villages. A single mountain or an old tree could divide one place from another—like Qianshu Village and Houshu Village.

The Xu family lived in Houshu Village, while Mother Xu’s family—and Shan San, who had visited them that morning—were from Qianshu Village.

To get from Qianshu to Houshu, you had to cross half a mountain. The slope wasn’t steep, but for the average farming family, it took two or three hours on foot.

But not for Shan San. With his long legs and powerful stride, the mountain trail was no challenge. He made it back to Qianshu in just about an hour and a half. Near the village entrance, he ran into a few locals.

“Shan San! Did you go to the city, huh?”

“Mm.”

As always, Shan San’s expression was frosty, the same toward everyone. This was partly why he wasn’t especially popular in the village. Combined with the rumors surrounding the Shan family, most villagers tended to steer clear of him.

“Look at that basket on his back. He’s definitely come back with something good! I heard he hunted a wild boar in the mountains recently—made a lot of money from that!”

“A wild boar? Aren’t those vicious? He took one down by himself?!”

“Pfft, have you seen Shan San’s build? I heard he once fought off a pack of wolves on his own! A wild boar is nothing for him!”

The gossiping women grew more and more animated, sneaking glances at him. Their voices weren’t exactly quiet, but the tall young man ignored them and continued on.

“He must be, what, nineteen this year? Still hasn’t talked about marriage?”

“You know what his family’s like. A sickly old grandmother, a younger sister who can’t even lift a bucket, and a pile of debts—what girl would want to marry into that?”

“Still… he’s so handsome! Look at those muscles. I bet plenty of girls would say yes! His grandmother won’t live forever. Once she’s gone and he starts making money, things will turn around.”

“Ha, don’t say that to me. If you’re so confident, go offer your own daughter.”

“My Xiaohua is just a kid, thank you very much…”

The two women laughed and walked off.

Shan San’s expression remained unchanged. Not until he reached a small stream near his home did he finally stop.

He was a little muddy from the trip. Stepping into the shallow water, he bent over and splashed it onto himself. The water glistened on his face and soaked his hair, dripping down the sharp angles of his brow and jaw. His profile looked as though it had been carved from stone—strong features, a high nose bridge, and deep-set eyes gave him a fierce, almost intimidating appearance.

“Brother!”

A girl’s cheerful voice called out from the other side of the stream. Shan San looked up and saw his little sister standing there, waving brightly. “Come back quick; it’s time to eat!”

At the sight of her, his face softened—an expression no one else ever got to see.

He quickly washed up and crossed the stream. After giving her hair a gentle ruffle, he pulled a small bundle from his basket. “Here. For you.”

“Wow! Wild mountain grapes!”

Inside the green leaves was a bunch of deep purple grapes, the last crop of the late autumn season. They grew deep in the mountains, hard to find and even harder to harvest. One bite, and sweet, juicy flavor bursts in your mouth—pure happiness.

For Shan Tiantian, this was the happiest moment. The fruit her brother brought home was better than any store-bought candy—though she’d never actually had much of that, either.

Still, that didn’t matter. Humming and skipping, the twelve- or thirteen-year-old girl followed her brother back home.

The Shan family’s courtyard was about the same size as the Xu family’s, but with a big difference: it had a competent man in charge.

The bamboo fence around the yard had been reinforced. Everything looked clean and orderly. The chicken coop was tightly secured with iron wire and bamboo slats. The vegetable patch by the gate had green, thriving scallions, garlic, and cabbage. A few bright orange pumpkins rested under the fence, and a big black dog lay curled up nearby, half-asleep.

As soon as Shan San stepped into the yard, the dog perked up, jumped to its feet, and came barreling over like a whirlwind. Tongue lolling, tail wagging furiously.

Shan San caught it mid-jump with one hand and set it aside. “Heiniu, stop.”

From inside the house, the sound of footsteps followed. An elderly woman appeared—small and frail, about the same age as Old Madam Xu, though visibly more shrunken.

“You’re back, Yuan’er?”

Shan San’s full name was Shan Shengyuan, though most people in Qianshu Village had long forgotten that. Everyone just called him “Shan San”—the third son of the Shan family. That name had stuck for years.

In her generation, the Shan family had once been quite prestigious. Old Master Shan was a respected gentleman, owner of a grand estate with maids and attendants. But the family fell hard—caught in a corruption scandal, thrown into prison, stripped of all assets, and cursed by the townsfolk.

By the time Shan San’s father came of age, things had only gotten worse. He got hooked on opium and gambling, eventually dying under mysterious circumstances. He left behind three sons. The eldest, Shan Shengshan, died falling off a cliff while hunting. The second, Shan Shengfeng, died in war. The youngest was Shan Shengyuan—Shan San—and then there was their youngest sibling, little Tiantian.

This family had seen real hardship.

But when the old woman saw her grandson, her cloudy eyes lit up with affection. Despite the years, her bearing hinted at past elegance—she had once been a true lady of status, the daughter of a county magistrate.

“Grandmother, it’s windy. Go back inside,” said Shan San.

“I’m fine. Did you return that gift to the Xu family?” she asked, handing him a cloth to wipe his sweat.

“I did.”

“How’s their youngest daughter doing?”

He paused, thinking back to the scene that morning. “She’s already up and walking.”

“Already?” Grandmother Shan looked surprised. “That’s fast…”

Shan San had been just as surprised that morning. Based on her injury, even he wouldn’t have recovered so quickly. Yet after just a few days, Xu Guoguo looked almost completely healed.

“Mm. Must be strong luck,” he said, brushing it off.

The old lady nodded. “She’s had a hard life. The Xu family’s struggling—we can’t accept anything from them.”

“Got it,” he replied. He finished drying off, and the old woman turned toward the kitchen. “Let’s eat.”

Lunch at the Shan household was simple: a plate of pickled cucumbers and steamed cornbread buns.

The buns were soft and warm, carrying the subtle aroma of corn. The cucumbers had been pickled and eaten all summer long—honestly, they were getting a bit tiresome. But there was nothing else. The cured meat Shan San brought down from the mountains always got sold in town to pay for medicine—despite the villagers’ gossip, they didn’t eat meat every day.

Two buns and one plate of pickles. Shan San polished them off in a few bites, wiped his mouth, and drank a large cup of cold tea.

“I’ll check the backfield,” he said.

“There’s no work today. Just rest,” Grandmother said.

“I’ll just take a look.”

She knew his temperament and didn’t argue.

***

Meanwhile, back at the Xu household…

The lunch table looked like a battlefield after a storm.

The entire bowl of boiled fish with pickled cabbage had been devoured, along with the scraps cleaned. The Xu family members ate like they’d never tasted anything so delicious in their lives. Even with the coarse sweet potato and brown rice, they buried their heads in their bowls.

It was just so good.

How could fish taste this good? The firm, springy slices had absorbed all the flavor of the pickled cabbage and chilies. The sour, spicy, and savory notes blended perfectly. The side vegetables—cabbage and bean sprouts from their field—were soaked in the rich red broth. Even the usual tough, bland rice seemed like a delicacy.

Everyone’s lips were shiny with chili oil. They were sniffing and tearing up from the spice, yet still fighting to dip their chopsticks back in the bowl.

Old Madam Xu was thoroughly impressed by the dish. She gave Xu Guoguo a complicated look. Mother Xu was so stunned, she couldn’t even speak.

“Nannan… you…”

Xu Guoguo had already prepared her excuse. “I saw someone making this at a street stall in town before. So I thought I’d give it a try too.”

But that wasn’t what her mother meant to ask.

“Nannan, you’ve never liked spicy food. Why are you using so many chilies now? And you just recovered—you should be eating light.”

Xu Guoguo: “…”

Slip-up.

Thankfully, Old Madam Xu spoke up. “Nannan recovered so quickly—it’s clear the gods are watching over her. Since she’s better, let her eat what she wants.”

That seemed to click for Mother Xu. “Yes, yes! It’s a blessing! Her tastes’ changing is normal. What else do you want to eat, Nannan? Mother will make it for you!”

Xu Guoguo breathed a silent sigh of relief. That explanation worked. Honestly, after transmigrating, what else was too strange to believe?

“Grandmother, Mother, I want to go to the market tomorrow. Are you coming?”

Before they could answer, Xu Dehai finally looked up from the table. “You? Going to market? You always hated that kind of thing!”

“Well, now I want to,” she replied simply.

He shrugged and wiped his mouth. “I’ll go! Want to come with me?”

Xu Guoguo glanced at her unreliable second brother, then at her mother and grandmother. After a moment, she gave a slow nod. “Alright.”

 

Author’s Note:
Shan (pronounced shān) is here!

Cultural Notes:

• Strong luck and strong life: A common phrase meaning someone is blessed with good fortune or resilience, even in the face of danger.

(boiled fish with pickled cabbage)