Chapter 3: The Xiao Family Members

A loud voice boomed from the doorway: “He still wants me to cook for him? What a dreamer! Has he ever looked at himself in the mirror? And you—” she pointed at Xiao Weiguo and continued, “If you’re well enough to eat, why are you still pretending to be dead? Get up and go to work first thing tomorrow! You’ve already missed three days—don’t you know that?”

This woman was the original owner’s stepmother, Wang Tiehua by name, a sturdily built woman in her thirties, broad-shouldered and imposing.

Xiao Weiguo sifted through his memories of this family.

The Xiao family was a typical large household for this era, with Xiao Weiguo as the eldest of five siblings: two younger sisters and two younger brothers. Xiao Weiguo, the eldest girl, and the second boy were born to his late mother: sixteen-year-old Xiao Weiguo, thirteen-year-old Xiao Hongmei, and ten-year-old Xiao Weijun.

It was the eldest girl, Xiao Hongmei, who had come to bring food today; she was now mainly responsible for cooking and washing the dishes.

The second sister was brought by the stepmother, also ten years old, renamed Xiao Lianxin.

The youngest brother was born to the stepmother and their father after their marriage, now five years old, named Xiao Qigong.

The stepmother, Wang Tiehua, was infamous throughout the village for her shrewish and unreasonable ways. At home, she would often beat or scold all but the youngest child, whom she doted on, while their father, Xiao Pingle, was excessively honest and meek.

Xiao Weiguo’s birth mother had died of illness some years before; six years ago, Xiao Pingle had remarried.

There was also a grandfather and grandmother, who lived in the same village. His grandmother, as he recalled, was especially kind, but always got the worst of it in her clashes with Wang Tiehua, often choosing to stay in her old house rather than live with her son’s family.

Grandfather, like their father, generally kept out of household affairs—a silent, ox-like figure.

Xiao Weiguo’s father was the third son. There was also a second uncle, who lived nearby; the eldest uncle was rumored to have disappeared during wartime upheavals.

As Wang Tiehua’s footsteps approached, Xiao Weiguo snapped out of his reverie and said in a low voice, “My fever’s gone down a bit today, but I’m still weak all over and can’t move. Could we ask Uncle Zhang for more medicine? A couple more days and I’ll be better.”

Uncle Zhang was the village doctor, only good for treating minor ailments and always prescribing heavy doses of whatever medicine was available. If you recovered, you were lucky; if not, you just waited to die at home. The original Xiao Weiguo had lost his life to a simple fever.

“Hmph! More medicine? You’re not worth the price of it! I’ll give you two more days. If you’re not in the fields tomorrow, you’ll be working at home. Don’t think you can keep lazing in bed!” With that, Wang Tiehua turned and left.

Xiao Weiguo longed to get up and slap her across the face, to silence her foul mouth, but his body was too feeble. For now, he would have to let her have her way.

His father, Xiao Pingle, put away his pipe and slowly got up. “Weiguo, don’t take your mother’s words to heart. That’s just her temper. She does care about you deep down. With so many mouths to feed in this house, life wears a person down. Just rest for now—we’ll talk tomorrow.”

Xiao Weiguo turned his face to the other side of the bed, refusing to look at his father.

“See? Every time I say this, you don’t want to listen. But you must remember—she’s always your mother, and everything she does is for your good, for the good of your siblings. You… ah!” With a sigh, Xiao Pingle closed the door and left.

The wick of the kerosene lamp flickered, throwing its feeble light across the room.

Xiao Weiguo pondered his next steps. First, he needed to plant grain in his space—there was a whole acre. Once it yielded a harvest, it would be enough to feed himself. The problem was getting seeds.

Second, this stepmother was a real nuisance. One of the original owner’s deepest wishes was to break free from her control, and not just for himself—he wanted to take his siblings with him, so they could all eat well and dress warmly.

Lastly, he had to plan for the city. In these times, only city people truly counted as people.

Now was the perfect moment—the labor rush was just beginning. It was still relatively easy to get temporary work in the city, with many units hiring. But he’d need to be careful—waves of layoffs would come, and without connections, one could easily be sent packing back home.

Xiao Weiguo’s mind worked through the situation, laying out plans as he had always done in the 21st century. He was a methodical person, accustomed to acting according to detailed plans.

Just then, a little boy with a huge head and tiny body came in, dressed in a faded, flowered undershirt obviously once worn by a girl.

“What have you been up to today, Second?” Xiao Weiguo asked the little boy.

This was Xiao Weijun, the second boy in the family. Though ten years old, he was shorter than a seven-year-old from Xiao Weiguo’s previous life.

“Brother, all the kids in the village went swimming by the river today. The village head’s son, Ironhead, even caught a big carp—it weighed at least three pounds!” Xiao Weijun said.

Yes, there was a river beside the village. Tomorrow would be a good time to test out the new abilities he’d just grasped in his space.

Catching a fish would be perfect to build up his strength—this body was desperate for nourishment. Meat was a rarity; he hadn’t tasted it in a year. No wonder he was so weak.

And if he caught enough fish, he could sell them for money to buy seeds for his space, as well as other tools—there were so many things he needed.

As these thoughts took shape, light flickered in Xiao Weiguo’s eyes.

At that moment, Xiao Weijun slipped off his shoes and climbed into bed beside Xiao Weiguo, the two of them squeezed together.

The room and the narrow bed didn’t belong to Xiao Weiguo alone; he shared them with his brother, and once the youngest grew up, he’d move in too—three brothers in one room.

The house itself was nothing more than three thatched, mud-walled rooms. The two sisters shared one, Xiao Weiguo and Xiao Weijun another, and their father and stepmother, with the youngest, the third.

“Brother, go to sleep. Let’s bathe in the river tomorrow—you stink, and I can’t stand it,” Xiao Weijun complained.

“Oh, you think your brother smells now? Here, let me show you worse!” Xiao Weiguo laughed, nudging his feet toward Weijun’s face.

“Stop it!”

Suppressing the rumbling of his empty stomach, Xiao Weiguo drifted gradually into sleep.

The next morning.

Xiao Weiguo saw Xiao Weijun leap up, dressing hurriedly as he dashed outside. “Brother, I need to grab breakfast. You know Mother’s rule—if you’re not there when the meal starts, you go hungry. Big Sister probably saved some for you. Sleep a bit longer!”

Without waiting for a reply, Xiao Weijun had disappeared.

In these times, every bite was precious. If you missed breakfast, you might not eat again until evening. During the slack season, there were only two meals a day—both just thin porridge.

Xiao Weiguo slowly got up from the heated brick bed, stretched, and felt much better, though his stomach was growling fiercely. He made his way toward the door to breathe some fresh air and then planned to eat—after which he would pursue the plans he’d made the night before.

The family’s dining table stood in the middle of the courtyard—a big stone slab, with several stone stools for seats.

Stepmother Wang Tiehua was there, portioning out food with a bowl in hand. “Didn’t I say? If you’re not here when the meal starts, you don’t eat. This bowl of rice—Old Five, you get half, your father gets half. This cornbread, the youngest can have. Let’s see if Xiao Weiguo dares do it again! Hmph!”