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墨書 Inktalez
Thinking back to the scene of countless villagers in Village wanting to cry without tears after half a month of continuous rain, Hu Ruoyun made up his mind: no matter what, he had to give it his all and take a gamble!
With a wooden fork in hand, sweat stung his eyes painfully as he wiped them with his sleeve and continued working. His arms were scratched by the wheat stalks, blood seeping from the wounds, and mixed with sweat, it felt almost like torture. Wheat awns slipped into his clothes, scratching him all over; he wished he could strip down and scratch himself all over… but none of that mattered now. In Hu Ruoyun's heart, he was determined to harvest the ten acres of Wheat and stack it up before the storm hit!
Ten acres of Wheat meant making dozens of trips with the cart. The Wheat Field was just a flat piece of land, and while the distance wasn’t far, the key was that he had to load the wheat onto the cart one forkful at a time, which was incredibly labor-intensive.
Seeing their son working so hard, Hu Qihua and Zhao Meirong felt an ache in their hearts.
No matter how mischievous their son could be, he was still just a teenager. Watching him work himself to exhaustion for them made it hard for them to express any dissatisfaction.
From morning until noon, and then from noon until afternoon, Hu Ruoyun’s two younger siblings joined in after school, and the family worked together from afternoon until night.
As the sun set, neighbors passing by couldn’t help but comment: this family was working themselves to death!
Woodzi's Wife spoke with sarcasm: “Qihua, Qihua's Family, are you planning to work yourself to the bone today? Just go home; you can’t finish everything today anyway. If you do finish, we’ll all celebrate New Year’s Eve together…”
His own Second Uncle and Second Aunt came over to help, but Hu Ruoyun stopped them: “Uncle, Aunt, you should go call for a Harvester. If we can harvest now until dawn, we can stack it in the courtyard without worrying about the rain!”
He had said this to many neighbors earlier that day, but not only did they not believe him, even Second Uncle didn’t believe it: “The Talk Box (cable broadcast) said there would be good weather for the next few days; no rain…”
Now that he repeated himself, Second Aunt took over: “Hu Ruoyun, I feel like something’s off with you today. Are you feeling unwell or something…”
That was it; they couldn’t continue the conversation.
Until late at night, despite all difficulties, more than ten acres of Wheat were finally loaded onto the cart and taken to the Wheat Field.
With Hu Ruoyun’s insistence, they stacked the ten acres of Wheat into a huge pile. Although this took tremendous effort, if it rained now, only the top and bottom layers would get damp; most of it would be fine.
His younger siblings—one eight years old and the other eleven—though they were poor children who had to grow up quickly, were still just kids. Once they finished their work, they didn’t complain about hunger or thirst but instead crawled into a makeshift shelter made in the middle of the wheat pile and fell into a deep sleep. This nearly brought tears to Hu Qihua and Zhao Meirong.
They were so exhausted that even the children were slumped down, unwilling to move another inch.
Their bodies ached all over! After gripping the wooden fork for so long, blisters the size of soybeans had formed on their palms. When those blisters burst, blood oozed out... Now, all ten fingers throbbed painfully, and they dared not bend them.
Hu Ruoyun felt anxious: What would happen if it didn’t rain? How would she wrap things up?
As the sky brightened, the family began to pack their belongings, preparing to drag their heavy bodies back home.
Suddenly, a gust of wind from the east picked up, growing stronger by the moment. Thick dark clouds quickly covered the pale light of dawn in the east.
In the nearby village, the sound of barking dogs echoed back and forth. Flashlights flickered along the dirt road leading to the fields, and the village loudspeaker blared with the voice of the Village Chief: “Attention everyone! Attention! We just received an urgent notice from the county meteorological station. A warm and humid air mass is about to arrive, and we are about to face... some severe convective weather. In addition to heavy rain, there will be strong winds and possibly hail... Everyone hurry and harvest the wheat! Hurry and harvest the wheat!”
But the weather changed too quickly. Most people hadn’t even reached their fields when a fierce wind swept in, accompanied by dense raindrops that pelted down. The rain poured in torrents, stinging their faces and making it impossible to keep their eyes open!
Fortunately, there was no hail.
Those who made it to the fields couldn’t work anymore; they dragged their soaked bodies into Hu Ruoyun’s shed to take shelter from the rain while hoping that this sudden storm would lessen and stop soon.
When daylight broke fully, the wind died down, and the rain turned into a fine drizzle, yet there was no sign of clear skies.
More people arrived at the fields wearing raincoats, carrying fertilizer bags or umbrellas, looking utterly despondent: most families hadn’t harvested their wheat yet, and now it lay flattened in the fields under nature’s wrath. The stalks twisted and turned, creating an endless blanket across the land.
A reduction in yield was certain; they just didn’t know how much they would lose.
In this situation, Hu Ruoyun’s stack of wheat stood out starkly against the devastation! After a long silence, Second Master Kuei, who usually loved to argue with others, finally murmured: “Look at how well they spent their money!”
Woodzi and his wife remained silent with gloomy faces.
Recalling how Hu Ruoyun and her family had worked tirelessly yesterday, how this sunburned child had insisted on harvesting quickly because a change in weather was coming—yet no one had listened—left everyone at a loss for words.
Who can they blame?
What the farmers toiling in these lands could not have anticipated was that the rain would come and go for a full fifteen days, only stopping on the sixteenth day after their anxious prayers.
Woodzi's Wife pushed aside the fallen wheat stalks in her field and sat down on the damp ground, crying out loud. Sister Jie, who was closest to her, was startled and rushed over to ask, "Aunt Dezi, why are you crying?"
Through her sobs, Woodzi's Wife managed to say, "The wheat... the wheat... it's all ruined!" She showed Sister Jie the ears of wheat in her hands.
The sight before them was shocking: many of the grains wrapped in the husks had sprouted tender white shoots!
Everyone hurriedly began to check their own wheat, and almost without exception, it had all sprouted!
Second Master Kuei even took a handful of grains, counted them in his palm, and found that out of 178 grains, 161 had sprouted, yielding a germination rate of over 93%.
The day after harvesting the wheat, Hu Ruoyun returned to school.
He had no idea that during those two weeks, people from the village visited his home daily to chat. Ultimately, all conversations led to one question: how did they know a storm was coming? They had spent a large sum hiring a harvester to collect their wheat and stacked it high, thus avoiding disaster.
Hu Ruoyun's mother, Zhao Meirong, was overwhelmed by the inquiries; who knew how that lazy boy of hers had figured it out!
His father, Hu Qihua, suppressed his relief and tried not to show any envy. He concocted an excuse: "We didn't know anything; it was just our eldest son being lazy and wanting to avoid hard work that he took it upon himself to hire the harvester..."
But this explanation was clearly unconvincing.
Late at night, as they lay in bed, Hu Qihua and Zhao Meirong discussed countless times how their son had predicted the storm. Regardless of their speculations, they ultimately agreed that "spending those sixty bucks was truly worth it!"
This led Hu Ruoyun to believe he had indeed foreseen the future. Now he wondered if he could recall what subjects would be on this year's Entrance Examination. Could he turn his fortunes around and create a miracle?
Yet no matter how hard he tried to think, he couldn't remember a thing.
In the end, Hu Ruoyun found peace. If everything could be foreseen and changed, wouldn’t life become unbearable? If one could predict everything and alter it, life would lose its meaning.
He recalled something that a comedian known as The Little Black Chubby One had said during a future period:
A crooked tree will eventually bend,
It’s hard to keep a wolf as a dog for guarding;
A cormorant stained with ink won’t stay black for long,
A crow painted white won’t hold its color firmly.
Candied bitter lotus will eventually taste bitter,
Picking fruits too early won’t yield sweetness;
Good deeds must be done by good people,
How can an ordinary person become a deity?
Ultimately, he was just an ordinary person, so he let go of the extravagant hope of becoming immortal. He decided to go with the flow, accept his fate, and align with the will of heaven.
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