Chapter Eighteen: Spring Festival (Part Two)

The hill behind the house rose just above the backyard. While the main path up the mountain was a bit of a walk from the old house, there was a nearly 60-degree slope right beside the yard. Lin Yang was the first to dash up. With a quick burst of speed, he ran straight up, relying solely on momentum to carry him to the top—he didn’t even need to use his hands.

Lin Nan and Qiu Xiaoman weren’t nearly as nimble. They managed to scramble halfway up the slope, then had to grab onto exposed tree roots for leverage to make it to the top. Lin Yang had been raised by his grandmother and only moved into the dorms at Qingshui No. 1 High School when he started high school. Growing up in the countryside, he’d always been a bundle of energy—climbing onto rooftops, prying up tiles, raiding birds’ nests in trees, diving into rivers to catch fish and shrimp. There was nothing he didn’t dare try, and he’d grown up agile and quick.

By contrast, Lin Nan and Qiu Xiaoman, both raised by their own parents in more sheltered environments, lacked some of his daring and skill. Yet, ironically, Lin Yang’s grades were the best among them. What did that show? It proved that childhood academic performance wasn’t determined solely by how many hours you spent studying each day. Even if you flitted constantly from one tutoring class to another, you might never surpass those classmates who listened attentively in class and then spent the rest of their time running wild. After all, the material in elementary and middle school was limited and not particularly difficult. As long as you paid attention in class and had a quick mind, your grades would never fall too far behind. Daydreaming during lessons and then working hard afterward would only make things twice as difficult with half the results.

But after spending just over a month with Lin Lang, Lin Nan’s entire approach to studying had changed—now he learned happily and conscientiously. What a wonderful thing it was to study with joy and self-discipline.

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They each held a Yellow River-brand toy gun, modeled after the M16, twenty yuan apiece, with a range of fifty meters—a formidable weapon among toy guns. Lin Yang, Lin Nan, and Qiu Xiaoman were now advancing through the brush like a miniature special forces squad, every move calculated and precise. Their footsteps were so soft and slow they seemed afraid to startle any “enemies.”

Though most birds had migrated south for the winter, there were always a few that either had different habits or were undaunted by the cold. Perhaps the winters in QS County, Central China, weren’t harsh enough to drive them away, or maybe they simply didn’t want to waste the energy flying halfway across the country.

Just then, Qiu Xiaoman signaled upward—he’d spotted a bird perched on a tree branch. Who’d have thought that the boy addicted to video games would have such sharp eyes now?

The other two followed the direction of his finger and sure enough, there was a small bird resting on a branch. Lin Yang raised his left hand in a gesture to aim, and Lin Nan and Qiu Xiaoman quickly understood, lifting their toy guns slowly to take aim at the unlucky bird. Lin Yang raised his gun with his right hand as well, then used his left hand to count down.

Three… two… one!

The moment his finger dropped to one, all three toy guns fired simultaneously.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

No one could tell whose shot landed, but the bird, startled by the noise, tumbled from the branch. The three boys immediately lowered their guns and rushed over. It appeared to be a small sparrow, brown and slender, with a slightly damaged wing. When it saw them approach, it tried to flutter away, but could only manage a few dozen centimeters before falling again.

Lin Yang hurried over and gently picked up the bird, holding it in his hands as he made his way back down the slope. “You two keep going. I’ll go take care of it first,” he called out.

“Got it! Be careful!” Lin Nan and Qiu Xiaoman replied. It was clear this wasn’t their first time with such an “operation.” Yet every bird they managed to bring down, they treated with the utmost care—digging worms, searching for bugs, even offering rice, and always keeping a bottle cap of fresh water nearby. Their care was so meticulous that, compared to fending for themselves outdoors, the birds were living in luxury.

But birds were born to be free. Not one of their charges ever stayed after it had healed—those with good memories and grateful hearts sometimes built nests in the big tree by the house and would come back for a rest, but that was all. The only time they’d failed to care properly was when they’d left an injured bird in a drawer and forgotten about it, only to discover the next day that it had suffocated. The guilt had stayed with them for days. That was why today, they reminded Lin Yang to be extra careful.

Before long, Lin Yang returned and the three resumed their search among the trees.

They spent an hour or two scouring the dense, leafy canopy, their eyes growing bleary, but they couldn’t find another bird. Reluctantly, they retraced their steps home.

Once back, they divided the tasks among themselves—one fetched a small spade and a box to dig for earthworms, one looked for a bottle cap to hold water, and one headed to the kitchen for some rice. Soon, they gathered again before the injured bird. The wound wasn’t serious, and perhaps the little creature sensed the children meant no harm, for it nibbled away at its food and water, content and unafraid. Maybe, in its tiny mind, it thought: Free food is not to be wasted—worms and rice are my favorites. Its sharp beak pecked busily, occasionally sipping from the bottle cap of water.

Before long, the three girls returned from who-knows-where. Seeing the lively bird, they immediately crowded around, chattering excitedly as if they’d discovered something wondrous, even happier than when admiring pretty clothes. The boys promptly teased them for acting like they’d never seen anything before. And so, the afternoon passed in joy and laughter.

As evening fell, the women returned from their mahjong games, and the men came back from fishing, their haul a big bag of wild pond fish. The largest two were quickly selected from the kitchen and added to the feast in preparation for a sumptuous dinner.

It was another rare reunion with everyone present, and the meal was eaten quickly—night was falling and the Spring Festival Gala was about to begin. By eight o’clock, most everyone was gathered in the room with the television. In front of them, an electric heater glowed, and plates of sunflower, watermelon, and pumpkin seeds were set out, completing the scene.