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墨書 Inktalez
Thinking back to the scene of countless villagers weeping 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, he swung it vigorously, sweat dripping into his eyes and stinging painfully. He wiped his face with his sleeve and continued working; his arms were scratched by the wheat stalks, leaving trails of blood that mingled with sweat, making it feel like he was being punished. The wheat awns fell into his clothes, prickling him all over, and he wished he could strip down completely and scratch himself all over... but none of that mattered now. In Hu Ruoyun's heart, he was determined to haul this ten acres of wheat to the wheat field and stack it up before the storm arrived!
Ten acres of wheat required multiple trips with a cart—at least ten. The wheat field was just a flat stretch of land nearby, but the key was to load the ten acres of wheat onto the cart using the wooden fork, which was incredibly labor-intensive.
Seeing their son working so desperately, Hu Qihua and Zhao Meirong felt an ache in their hearts.
No matter how much trouble their son caused, he was still just a young boy. As he worked tirelessly to help them, they had to
They were so exhausted that even the children could only slump down and refuse to move another inch.
Every part of their bodies ached! After gripping the wooden fork for too long, blisters the size of soybeans had formed on their palms. Eventually, those blisters burst, oozing blood... Now, all ten fingers throbbed painfully, making it impossible to bend them.
Hu Ruoyun felt anxious: What would happen if it didn’t rain? How would she wrap things up?
As dawn broke, the family began to pack up their belongings, preparing to drag their heavy bodies back home.
Suddenly, a gust of southeast wind picked up, growing stronger by the moment. Thick dark clouds quickly covered the pale light rising 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 head: “Attention everyone! Attention! We just received an urgent notice from the county meteorological station. A warm, moist air mass is about to arrive, and we are going to face... some severe convective weather, including heavy rain and strong winds, possibly even 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 own fields when a fierce wind swept in, accompanied by dense raindrops that pelted down. The rain columns swayed violently in the wind, hitting people’s faces not only with pain but also making it impossible to keep their eyes open!
Fortunately, there was no hail.
Those who made it to the fields found themselves unable to work. 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 brightened, the wind died down, and the rain turned into a fine drizzle, yet there was still no sign of clear skies.
More people arrived at the fields wearing raincoats, carrying fertilizer bags or holding umbrellas, looking utterly despondent: Most families hadn’t finished harvesting their wheat, and now it lay flattened in the fields under nature's wrath. The stalks twisted and turned, creating an endless blanket spread across the ground.
A reduction in yield was certain; they just didn’t know how much they would lose.
In this situation, Hu Ruoyun’s wheat stack stood out starkly against its surroundings! After a long silence, Second Master Kuei, who usually loved to argue with others, finally said softly: “Look at how well they spent their money!”
Woodzi and his wife remained silent with grim expressions.
Thinking back to how hard Hu Ruoyun and her family had worked yesterday—how this sunburned child had insisted on rushing to harvest because a change in weather was coming—no one had taken her seriously; everyone was 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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