Chapter 3: Grandpa, why aren't your legs trembling anymore?

“Long Er is a cheat, working together with that young master Pan—they conspired to swindle me.”

Xu’s father’s eyes narrowed. In his youth, he had been a prodigal, indulging in drinking, gambling, and debauchery, so he understood a bit about gambling. He asked, “How do you know the dice were loaded with mercury? Long Er is a trickster—how did you figure that out?”

“Father!” Xu Fugui replied, “A few years ago, when I was quite a scoundrel, spending every day in the city’s brothels, there was a man called Mr. Shen, over sixty years old, who had spent most of his life at gambling tables. He told me that gambling relies entirely on a pair of hands and a pair of eyes. Your eyes must be as sharp as claws, and your hands as slippery as eels.

“Mr. Shen was kind to me and taught me a few tricks. So, I know some of the cheating methods. Later, Mr. Shen lost at the table to Long Er—I reckon Long Er tricked him.”

Xu’s father was even more puzzled. “Fugui, if you knew Long Er was cheating, why didn’t you expose him? Then we wouldn’t have had to mortgage the house and the tribute fields to pay him back. What were you thinking? *Cough, cough, cough...*” He began coughing violently again.

“Don’t get worked up, Father, don’t!” Xu Fugui placed his hand on his father’s chest, waiting for him to calm down, and continued, “Listen to me, Father. There’s a war outside right now. From what I hear, those Yellow-Clad soldiers are randomly rounding people up on the street, forcing them to pull carts and carry loads, abusing the poor common folk. Everyone curses them.

“Think about it—can an army like that ever win against the ‘Liberation Army’ that truly fights for the poor? The north has already been liberated; it’s only a matter of time before the south is too.”

His father said, “Driving out the Yellow-Clad soldiers is a good thing. How does this gambling business relate to that?”

“Father, you’re confused!” Xu Fugui said. “It’s true that the Yellow-Clad soldiers losing is good for all the poor people, but what about us? What’s our status? We’re landlords.

“I’ve heard that after the northern liberation, all the landlords’ lands were confiscated and redistributed among the peasants. Those landlords suffered terribly—their property was seized, they were publicly denounced, and some were even executed. Father, if we lose our lives, what use is it to keep the house and fields? You have to be alive to enjoy them, right?”

Only then did his father begin to absorb the words. “Fugui, who told you all this? Are the northern troops really about to come this way?”

“Father, it’s absolutely certain,” Xu Fugui replied. “I estimate that in one or two years at the earliest, three or four at the latest, the fighting will reach here. When liberation comes, landlords will lose everything. Even if we don’t lose our property now, it will be gone soon enough, and we’ll be branded as landlords.

“Father, it’s possible that the Liberation Army might even execute us. Our Xu family could be wiped out. How could we fail to honor our ancestors?”

Xu’s father shuddered, his face growing pale.

Xu Fugui said, “Since that’s the case, and our family’s wealth will disappear sooner or later, it’s better to give it to Long Er now. That scoundrel cheated me—he deserves it. Let him suffer the consequences.”

His father remained silent for a minute or two, then patted his son’s hand. “Fugui, I was wrong to blame you. You did the right thing. Losing like this is good—it secures our family’s future.”

“We have to move out of this house quickly. We can’t live here anymore!” He staggered as he tried to get out of bed.

“Father, lie down, lie down!” Xu Fugui urged.

“It’s not urgent. Even if we move, we need somewhere to live first. I’ve thought it through: tomorrow I’ll take the copper coins into town to settle the debt with Long Er. That will end it.

“Then, at the foot of the mountain east of the village, I’ll build a thatched hut. Once it’s ready, we’ll move there. Father, please bear with it for now. I promise to work hard, and after liberation when the land is redistributed, I’ll raise a chicken for our Xu family.

“You must live well—you’re my father, and I haven’t properly honored you yet.”

“Good, good, good!” Xu’s father repeated three times. “Fugui, it seems you’ve really matured and changed. I’ll listen to you. Live well.

“I’m going out to stretch my legs. Lying in bed these days has made me stiff. I’ll just take a little walk.”

“Father, be careful!” Xu Fugui carefully helped him from the bed and toward the door. When they reached the doorway, Xu’s father suddenly stopped.

“Fugui, only you and I know about this. Don’t tell anyone—not your mother, not Jia Zhen. If the secret slips out and reaches Long Er, this plan will fail.”

“All right, all right!” Xu Fugui nodded repeatedly. “Don’t worry, Father, I’ll keep it to myself.”

As they stepped outside, Jia Zhen and Xu’s mother, fearful something might have happened inside, hurried to greet them.

“Master, why are you still going out to the fields? Go back and lie down. Don’t faint again,” Xu’s mother urged.

“I’m fine now. My head isn’t dizzy anymore. Staying in bed feels stuffy, so I wanted to take a walk...” Xu’s father said, pointing with his cane to the furniture in the courtyard. “Are you packing things? Good. Let’s pack quickly so we can move out soon.”

His eagerness and apparent happiness confused Xu’s mother and Jia Zhen.

“Master, are you alright? Don’t scare us,” Xu’s mother said anxiously.

“I’m fine, really.” Xu’s father smiled. “Fugui talked to me a lot, and I admitted my mistakes. That settled my worries. Money or no money, it doesn’t matter—they’re just worldly possessions. What matters is that our family is still together. Whether rich or poor, as long as we don’t starve, we’re all right.”

Xu’s mother’s eyes reddened as she wiped away tears. “Master, it’s good that you’ve come to terms with it.”

“I’m going outside to use the latrine,” Xu’s father said.

“I’ll help you,” she offered.

“I’m just going to the latrine. I can manage on my own.” He put down his cane and walked steadily out of the yard.

Feng Xia, who had always followed her grandfather like a little shadow, bounced along after him this time as well.

Walking along the rural path, it was still early, and some tenant farmers were working in the fields, greeting the master respectfully.

“Master!”

“Master...”

“Don’t call me that—don’t!” Xu’s father waved them off.

Reaching the latrine, he unbuckled his belt and squatted on the edge of the cesspit. Feng Xia, unbothered by the smell, innocently asked, “Grandpa, why aren’t your legs shaking today?”

Xu’s father smiled kindly. Going to the latrine was difficult for him; at his age, with a weak stomach, he often suffered from constipation and would tremble after squatting too long. Then he would say, “Hmm, it’s the wind.”