Liu Xiaomei watched Meizi, her expression complicated. ’She used to be so carefree. I was always so envious of her good fortune back then.’

’It seems that no matter how blessed a girl is, once she’s married, she still has to do what needs to be done. Mom was right; it’s never a mistake to learn more skills for running a household.’

Juhua felt the atmosphere had grown a little somber, so she changed the subject. She explained how to make chrysanthemum tea, adding that the flowers for stuffing pillows only needed to be washed once and sun-dried.

Only then did the three of them start chatting and laughing again.

There was so much more to do this year; picking chrysanthemums was no longer the leisurely activity it had been last fall.

Juhua’s hands moved without stopping, pinching off the chrysanthemums. As she picked up speed, her pinching turned into plucking. She felt like one of the tea-leaf pickers, her hands fluttering up and down.

Meizi and Liu Xiaomei also picked up their pace. Eager to gather more, the three of them gradually drifted apart, each heading in a different direction.

Juhua picked for a while until she saw that Lanzi and her other basket were full. They were filled loosely, but it wouldn’t do to press the Hua’er down. She called out to Meizi and Liu Xiaomei, "I’m heading home first! I still have to make breakfast."

Without waiting for a reply, she turned and hurried home.

On the way, she happened to look up and noticed the mountain behind her house was a canvas of brilliant splendor. The oak leaves covering the slopes—a mix of green, yellow, orange, and red—created a scene as breathtaking as any maple forest.

’It turned out,’ she mused, ’that without even realizing it, I’ve been here for a full year.’

She felt as if she were in a daze. But when she looked down at the gray-brick, tile-roofed house at the foot of the mountain, her heart settled. ’This is my home now.’

Early in the morning, Zheng Changhe, Yang Family, and Qingmu had all gone to the wheat fields.

When Juhua got home, she quickly put on a pot of cornmeal mush. Once it was half-cooked, she banked the embers in the stove so it could continue to simmer slowly.

Then she took the wild chrysanthemums she had picked down to the river to wash. She set out the ones meant for drying and started steaming the rest. Afterward, she fed the pigs and the chickens.

A short while later, her father, mother, and brother returned for breakfast.

Juhua quickly served the meal. Fortunately, there was no need to cook any side dishes.

This was all thanks to her regular diligence. With the pickled cowpeas, pickled water bamboo shoot greens, pickled melons, preserved Huang Gua, chili slices, and slow-cooked chili paste, not to mention the salted duck eggs—if she were to serve them all, they would cover half the table.

Of course, no one would ever put out that many pickled dishes at once. It was simply a matter of having one kind today and another tomorrow.

Seeing how busy Juhua was, Qingmu asked, "Did you go pick wild chrysanthemums? And you made breakfast on top of that? Mom, you should come home earlier tomorrow to cook. We won’t miss one person’s labor in the fields, and it’ll keep both you and Juhua from getting exhausted."

Zheng Changhe nodded repeatedly upon hearing this. Yang Family glanced at the beads of sweat on Juhua’s forehead and agreed as well.

Hearing them, Juhua said, "On normal days, I feel like I don’t have enough time to get all this done in the morning. But I rushed a bit today and realized I can manage if I hurry. It’s just that I haven’t washed the clothes yet. I’ll do it when I get back around noon."

Yang Family comforted her, "It’s only going to be this busy for a couple of days. Once most of the acorns are gathered, we can’t just stay on the mountain all day anyway."

The Zheng Family was a step too late. They hadn’t even put down their bowls when a commotion erupted outside—the whole village was heading up the mountain to gather acorns.

As the saying goes, where there are people, there is conflict.

Qingnan Village had always been known for its simple and honest folk, but that was only true when there were no competing interests. When a real conflict arose, even simple people grew anxious. The land dispute between Li Mingtang and the Zheng Family was proof of that.

The acorns could be used to feed pigs, and with proper processing, people could eat them too. Who wouldn’t scramble to get their share?

The village chief, Li Gengtian, was at a loss. The acorns were impossible to divide fairly, and he couldn’t think of a foolproof plan. Worried the villagers would start fighting over them, he gathered everyone to have a word.

"There’s no need to rush," he began. "I’ve done the math—there are definitely enough acorns for everyone. Whether you’re feeding your pigs or yourselves, there’s plenty to go around. It’s not like you can eat acorn tofu every single day, right?"

The crowd broke into laughter.

He continued, "I just want to remind everyone not to be so shortsighted. If you start fighting over this stuff, it’s just pointless. We’re all from the same village. Besides, piglets aren’t easy to come by. The family that raises the most pigs in our village only has four, and those with fewer only have two. Gathering too many acorns would just be a waste. We already planted a good number of oak trees this spring, and we’ll plant more next year and every year after that. The acorns will only get more plentiful, right? What’s the point in fighting over them?"

Shorty Zhou laughed. "We get what the chief is saying. He’s telling us to go ahead and gather, just don’t cause a ruckus. And I say, there won’t be any trouble. We’re all from the same village; we see each other every day. Whoever works hard will gather more, and the lazy ones who gather less can’t blame anyone for it. Isn’t that right?"