After the family split up, my stepmother and scumbag father begged me to come home.

At dawn, the eldest and second eldest sons of the Ding family went out.

It takes half an hour to walk from home to where I work. The road is a dirt road, and it was slippery with dew from last night.

Old Ding walked ahead, his steps steady, as if measuring the land, one step at a time.

Ding Lao Er followed behind, yawning incessantly, his hands tucked into his sleeves, walking unsteadily.

"Brother, how come Tiger is so energetic?" Ding Lao Er suddenly blurted out.

Ding Laoda didn't turn around: "He's young."

"Xiao Cai should be sleepy. When I was his age, I wouldn't get up unless I was called three times in the morning."

"So you're still just a laborer."

Ding Lao Er was taken aback, muttered something, and quickened his pace to catch up.

The two walked side by side for a while without saying a word. Dewdrops clung to the grass blades by the roadside, falling softly as they were swept by their trouser legs.

After walking for a while, Ding Lao Er spoke up again: "Brother, can you smell it?"

"What do you smell?"

"Corn cakes. Mom made them this morning, pure corn cakes."

Ding Laoda didn't respond.

"Tiger took three with him." There was something indescribable in Ding Lao Er's voice; it wasn't a complaint, but it wasn't exactly cheerful either. "When we left, there were only three left in the pot. I ate one, you ate one, Dad ate one, and Mom didn't eat any."

"Mom says she's not hungry."

"Mom always says 'I'm not hungry'."

Boss Ding slowed down for a beat, then resumed his original pace.

He looked at the winding road ahead, and saw several figures moving on the distant ridges of the fields.

When we arrived at the location, the landlord was already there.

He was a short, stout man in his forties, surnamed Zhou. People called him Boss Zhou, but he wasn't really a boss. He just owned a few more acres of land than others and hired a few people to help him during the busy farming season.

"You're here?" Boss Zhou squatted on the edge of the field, holding a blade of grass in his hand. He raised his chin when he saw them. "Finish weeding that sorghum field today. It has to be done before dark."

Old Ding responded and bent down to pick up the hoe.

Ding Lao Er also took a hoe and followed his brother into the field.

Working in the fields is monotonous. One stroke of the hoe turns up a clod of earth, another stroke, and another clod.

The sun rose higher and higher, the shadows shortened, and sweat trickled down my forehead, stinging my eyes.

Ding Lao Er wiped his hand with his sleeve, leaving a muddy mark on the back of his hand.

"Brother," he said again.

"Um."

"What is Tiger looking for, following that Qianqian from the Lin family into the mountains every day?"

"have no idea."

"Could they really have found something good?" Ding Lao Er's voice was low, as if afraid of being overheard. "I heard that Qianqian's mother isn't an ordinary person. She comes from a big city, has seen the world, and only came here after falling on hard times..."

"Second brother." Ding Lao Da straightened up and glanced at him.

Ding Lao Er shut up.

"Get to work," said Boss Ding.

The hoe fell again. Once, and then again.

Ding Lao Er stopped talking, but his mind was still racing. He remembered the spicy rabbit meat Tiger had mentioned last night, the three cornbreads Tiger had taken this morning, and his mother's words, "I'm not hungry." The hoe rose and fell mechanically, but his thoughts drifted to the mountain—

How come Tiger is so lucky?

This statement is both right and wrong. Tiger was lucky because he met Lin Qianqian, but Lin Qianqian was the one who was truly lucky.