Chapter 62: The Zhang Family

Gu Chengyong led his two sons in skinning the deer, with the fur turned inward, and nailed it to the wooden boards in the storage room. Once the hide dried, it could be taken to be tanned and kept for making boots. The venison and other parts were separated; the bones were removed, leaving only the meat to be cooked and eaten.

Once these tasks were finished, there was nothing left for Gu Chengyong to do. He washed his hands and went into the house to speak with his aunt and uncle’s family. Wenxiu and Wenqi went outside to find Wentao and the others.

Zhang Yuanming, the husband of Madam Li, was once a traveling peddler. After saving up some silver, he bought a few acres of land in Qingshan Village and settled there with his wife and children.

Madam Li was five years older than her sister, and when they lived at home, the two got along well. Later, Madam Li’s family came to the village partly because of her sister. Having relatives in the same village meant mutual support, so over the years, the sisters maintained a close relationship.

Madam Li had two sons and a daughter. The eldest, Zhang Yongqing, was thirty-three this year. His wife, surnamed Huang, gave birth to two sons and a daughter: Zhang Decheng, Zhang Dehai, and Zhang Liyun.

The second son, Zhang Yongfu, married Madam Wang and had one son and two daughters: Zhang Dexing, Zhang Lishu, and Zhang Lihua, with Lihua being the youngest at six years old. The Zhang family only moved to this village four or five years ago, and were not previously acquainted with the Gu family, so Gu Chengyong barely knew them.

After dinner last night, Gu Chengyong chatted with his brothers and inquired about the Zhangs. He thus gained some understanding of their situation.

After arriving in Qingshan Village, Zhang Yuanming farmed his land. His years as a peddler meant he knew many people, so every autumn he would collect mushrooms, black fungus, pine nuts, and walnuts from nearby villages, then deliver them to brokers in the town and county.

The northeast forests were abundant with various products, so Zhang Yuanming made good money in this trade. In recent years, as he grew older, he handed the business over to his two sons.

The Zhang family collected mountain goods every autumn, so they kept a horse-drawn cart and a donkey cart at home. When idle, the two sons would ferry villagers to the town or county for a fee.

Thus, the Zhangs lived fairly well in the village. However, Zhang Yuanming was a shrewd small businessman, always calculating. When collecting mountain goods, he often cheated people—ten pounds would somehow weigh only nine on his scale. As a result, many villagers resented the Zhangs, and their reputation was less than stellar.

The Gu and Zhang families were relatives; their matriarchs were sisters, so they interacted more often. The Gu matriarch, though stingy with her stepchildren, was generous to her own family.

Almost every month, she invited her sister’s family over for a meal, and whenever there was something good, she would send a share to her sister. Over the years, many of the items Gu Chengyong sent home were given by Madam Li to Madam Li, and at this moment, the clothes worn by Huang and Wang were made from fabric sent by Gu Chengyong.

As for the Zhangs, throughout the year, inviting the Gu family for a meal once or twice was considered generous. If Madam Li sent something to her sister, Zhang Yuanming would grumble for days, and besides, Madam Li herself was stingy and liked to take advantage, unwilling to send much to her sister.

Social exchanges were meant to be balanced; over time, except for the matriarch, the rest of the Gu family grew quite dissatisfied with the Zhangs.

Gu Chengyong, having learned all this, understood the Zhangs’ ways. Upon entering the house, he nodded to Zhang Yuanming, “Uncle.”

Seeing Gu Chengyong come in, Zhang Yuanming beamed, inviting him onto the kang, “Nephew, come, sit here and let’s have a good chat.”

Gu Chengyong, unimpressed by Zhang Yuanming’s enthusiasm, chose not to sit on the kang. He casually pulled over a chair and sat down. “Uncle, I’ve been away for too long, and only just returned. I didn’t know Aunt and Uncle were living in the village, so I wasn’t able to visit. Please forgive me for that.”

“Don’t say that; we’re proper relatives. As elders, how could we fuss over such etiquette? You’ve just returned and didn’t know, that’s no matter. Now we’ve met, and from now on, let’s keep visiting each other—the more, the closer we’ll become.” Zhang Yuanming grinned at Gu Chengyong, his already small eyes squinting even more.

“Those are your two cousins, Yongqing and Yongfu, and behind them are their children. Looks like their ages are similar to your own boys—so they’ll have company to play with in the future.” Zhang Yuanming pointed out his sons and grandchildren.

Zhang Yongqing and Zhang Yongfu hurried to greet Gu Chengyong, and their children called him uncle. Country folk preferred simple forms of address—uncle or elder, rather than distant terms like cousin or second uncle, which sounded awkward. Uncle and elder felt warmer and closer.

Gu Chengyong glanced at the Zhang children; truthfully, they were all handsome. The boys, restless as ever, caught the scent wafting from the kitchen and couldn’t help but sniff, their mouths watering. Country children rarely had meat, so with so much today, how could they not be tempted?

Madam Li, noticing her grandsons’ eager expressions, sent the three boys outside to play with the Gu children, sparing them the discomfort of staying inside while adults talked.

Zhang Yuanming remained enthusiastic, constantly asking Gu Chengyong where he’d been and what he’d done over the years. Gu Chengyong only mentioned trivial things; he was not fond of talking, and found Zhang Yuanming’s manner unpleasant, so he spoke even less.

Zhang Yuanming carried the conversation, recounting his years as a peddler, the places he’d been, the things he’d seen, and his work collecting mountain goods. He could dredge up any old matter for a story. His storytelling was remarkable—he could keep himself entertained for ages.

Gu Chengzhong and the others were also in the room. They’d heard these stories countless times; the first couple of times they found them novel, but now they were thoroughly bored. Besides, the Zhangs came over every month for a meal, and Gu Chengzhong’s family no longer treated them as special guests, nor bothered to feign enthusiasm.

For the Gu family, every visit from the Zhangs was an opportunity to improve their own meals. The brothers paid little attention to Zhang Yuanming’s stories, simply waiting for the lunch to be ready so everyone could enjoy some good food.

And so, in the crowded room, some were distracted, some talked endlessly, and some waited with impatience.

While the men sat chatting, the women in the kitchen wielded spoons and spatulas, preparing a succession of fragrant dishes.

Rabbit stewed with potatoes, pork stewed with noodles, and the cold dishes were sliced and arranged on plates. In the main room, a table had been set up and the best food laid upon it. In the kitchen, venison and eggs were being stir-fried; once those were ready, the meal could begin.

The aroma of food drifted far. In the courtyard, the Zhang children salivated uncontrollably. “Big brother, can you sneak something out for us to eat? The smell is too tempting—I can’t take it anymore,” Zhang Dehai pleaded, tugging his brother’s sleeve.

Zhang Decheng was also desperately hungry. He glanced at the main room—no one was there, everyone busy in the kitchen. Only the three of them were in the yard; Wenxiu and his brothers were out feeding the horses, valuable assets and future helpers, not to be neglected.

Wensheng and Wenjie were digging in the garden, planting vegetables. Wenqing had already taken the cow out. Wen’an, still young, was led by Wenjing, who followed the older boys, watching them dig up earthworms and collecting them. Wensheng had said they’d go fishing when they had time. The boys were hungry too, but staying indoors meant risking their grandmother’s scolding, so working outside gave them peace.

Wenjing knew his grandmother would save the best meat for him and his younger brother, so he had no worries. For now, the earthworm digging was far more interesting, and he stayed squatting in the garden, picking them up as he saw them.

Zhang Decheng saw a perfect opportunity—he could sneak a bite and no one would notice. “Wait here, I’ll try,” he said, patting his brother’s head and tiptoeing inside.

The table was laden with meat. Zhang Decheng swallowed hard, and reached for a drumstick from the cold dish plate.

“Hey, what are you doing?” a voice called.

Zhang Decheng’s hand jerked, nearly dropping the drumstick. Turning, he saw it was Gu Wenfei. “You little brat, popping up like that, trying to scare me to death?” He hid the drumstick behind his back.

“You’re stealing meat. Don’t think I didn’t see. Put it back and I won’t say anything, otherwise I’ll call everyone,” Wenfei, a fiery little girl, was not afraid of Zhang Decheng. Besides, she and her sisters often passed through the main room; if meat went missing, the grandmother would surely blame them for being greedy, and she refused to take the blame.