After fleeing the famine, my older sister and I married the brother next door.

Under the complex gazes of some women in the shack area, the two sisters silently climbed onto a straw-covered cart. Wang Guanmei sat in front of the cart, Chen's father sighed, the old ox started moving, and the cart creaked and groaned away from this temporary shelter that had borne their initial despair and struggle.

The morning wind was biting, stinging her face. Su Xiaoqing couldn't help but look back; the earthen-yellow shack grew smaller and smaller in the gradually brightening sky, finally disappearing behind the rising dust. She turned back and squeezed her sister's hand. Su Xiaoyin squeezed back tightly, her gaze fixed on the road ahead.

The road was still the same dirt road leading to Nanshan Village, and the scenery remained the same. But this time, my state of mind was different.

As the morning mist dissipated, the cart arrived at the old locust tree at the entrance of Nanshan Village. Several early-rising villagers were already standing there, peering out. Upon seeing the cart, they whispered and pointed. Their eyes held curiosity, scrutiny, and undisguised pity or amusement. After all, the Chen family's marriage of two sisters who had fled famine, and in such an "unusual" way, was already quite a topic of conversation in this remote mountain village.

The Chen family courtyard was also tidied up a bit today. A small, faded red paper, about the size of a palm, was pasted on the gate as a sign of celebration. Chen's mother, Zhao, wearing a half-new blue cotton jacket that had been starched until it was stiff, with her hair neatly combed, waited at the gate with a forced smile on her face, but her eyes held an undeniable tension and unease.

The cart stopped. Following the simplest procedure, led by Wang, the matchmaker, the two sisters got off the cart and stepped over a small brazier placed at the door (containing only a few dimly burning firewood, more symbolic than practical), as a way to ward off bad luck and welcome them into the house.

The main room was tidier than last time. A large "囍" (double happiness) character was pasted on the wall in the center, cut out of red paper by Chen Xiaohe herself; the edges were a little rough, but it revealed her clumsy but earnest effort. Chen Dashan, dressed in clean, old dark gray clothes, stood by the table, his back ramrod straight, his lips pressed tightly together, his emotions unreadable. Chen Xiaohe, on the other hand, seemed somewhat excited, yet trying hard to appear composed, her bright eyes darting between the two brides.

There was no grand hall filled with guests, no elaborate betrothal rituals. Under the guidance of the matchmaker, Mr. Wang, Mr. and Mrs. Chen sat on the only two slightly better chairs and received a simple kneeling bow from the newlyweds. Then, the two sisters and Mr. Chen, accompanied by the matchmaker's chanting, bowed to the ancestral tablets (a wooden plaque inscribed with "Heaven, Earth, Ruler, Parents, Teacher") and their parents, paying respects to Heaven and Earth, and to their elders. Finally, in a slightly awkward atmosphere, the couple bowed to each other.

As Su Xiaoyin bent down to the silent Chen Dashan, she could smell the clean scent of soap and a faint, masculine aroma mixed with the scent of wood emanating from him. Chen Dashan lowered his eyes, his movements somewhat stiff but earnest.

When Su Xiaoqing and Chen Xiaohe bowed to each other, they almost bumped into each other. Chen Xiaohe hurriedly took half a step back, his face turning red to the roots of his ears, which made Chen's mother want to laugh but hold it back. Wang Guanmei also shook her head almost imperceptibly.

The ceremony is complete.

Wang, the matchmaker, said a few auspicious words wishing the couple harmony and many children, thus completing her duties. She then accepted a very thin red envelope from Chen's mother (containing probably only a few coins) and took her leave.

There was no banquet, no guests. Chen's mother brought out the "wedding feast" she had prepared in advance—a bowl of cornbread, a dish of pickled vegetables, a bowl of vegetable soup with a few specks of oil floating on top, and a small bowl of cooked pheasant meat that Chen Xiaohe had luckily caught in the mountains the day before. This was the best hospitality the Chen family could offer.

The family sat around the square table, the atmosphere silent and awkward. The bride, the groom, the parents-in-law, and the groom's brothers. Unfamiliar relationships, unfamiliar surroundings, the future as indistinct as faces shrouded in the steam of the food.

Mr. Chen cleared his throat, trying to lighten the mood: "Let's eat. From now on... we're family."

Su Xiaoyin picked up a rough cornbread, broke it in half, and handed it to Su Xiaoqing beside her. She took the other half and took a small bite. The rough texture slid down her throat, carrying the raw aroma of grain. She looked up and met Chen Dashan's gaze. His gaze remained calm, but when it met hers, it quickly shifted away, turning its attention to the soup in his bowl.

Chen Xiaohe was much more enthusiastic. He picked up a small piece of pheasant meat, intending to put it in Su Xiaoqing's bowl, but then thought it inappropriate and put it in Su Xiaoyin's bowl instead: "Big...Sister-in-law, you and Xiaoqing should eat more, you're too thin."

Su Xiaoyin thanked her softly. Su Xiaoqing blushed slightly and buried her head in her soup.

The "wedding banquet," filled with silence and unspoken thoughts, quickly came to an end. Chen's mother cleared away the dishes, while Chen's father squatted by the door, smoking his pipe. The remaining four young people stood in the gradually darkening main room, speechless for a moment. Chen Dashan spoke first, saying, "Go wash up and get some rest."

In the south room of the east wing, the oil lamp had been extinguished, leaving only the cold moonlight streaming through the window, illuminating two restrained figures on the kang (heated brick bed).

After washing up, Chen Dashan pushed open the door and came in, bringing with him a slightly cool, damp feeling and a faint scent of soap. He paused by the door for a moment before slowly walking to the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed) and taking off his outer garment. The subtle rustling of the fabric was particularly clear in the silence.

"Go to sleep," he said in a low voice in the darkness.

Su Xiaoyin gave a soft "hmm" and moved slightly to the side. The reed mat beside her sank slightly, and a warm, unfamiliar scent approached, mixed with the smell of a clean-looking man and dried grass. She held her breath, her fingers unconsciously tightening around the corner of the blanket.

The two lay down fully clothed, maintaining a restrained distance between them. The earthen bed wasn't narrow, yet it seemed to be divided by an invisible boundary. The night breeze rustled through the paper windows. Su Xiaoyin opened her eyes, staring at the blurry outline of the beams on the roof, clearly hearing her own heartbeat and the steady yet restless breathing of the person beside her.

After an unknown amount of time, Chen Dashan turned over, facing her. In the darkness, his breath was closer. Su Xiaoyin's body stiffened slightly, but she felt a warm, rough hand gently groping under the covers. With a slight hesitation, it only lightly touched the back of her hand, paused for a moment, and then slowly took it in his hand, softly asking, "Is it alright?"

The palm, calloused from years of labor, was dry and warm, its grip light yet carrying a weighty sense of security. Su Xiaoyin's fingertips trembled slightly, but she didn't pull away. Her tense shoulders and back, strangely, relaxed a little in that grasp.

Su Xiaoyin whispered, "Okay." Listening to their breathing gradually drawing closer, and the distant chirping of autumn insects outside the window, a nocturne began.

The moonlight shifted subtly. Su Xiaoyin finally closed her eyes, exhausted, feeling the warmth from her palm. That warmth slowly dispelled the chill in her fingertips, and seemed to dispel the last trace of hesitation in her heart. Perhaps, in this silent touch and shared body temperature, a genuine, comforting warmth quietly arose in the unfamiliar beginning.

In the north room, separated by a wall, Chen Xiaohe first offered a few clumsy words of comfort in a low voice, followed by Su Xiaoqing's uncontrollable chuckle, then a brief rustling and silence, and finally only the sound of long breaths remained, blending into the tranquil autumn night of Nanshan Village.