Chapter 6: Raspberry Leaves

Spring returned to the earth, and all living things awoke. In the fields, hardworking farmers toiled diligently. While others swung their hoes repeatedly, the Chen family was different—the old ox was the main force behind the plowing.

Chen Ping led the ox from the front, ensuring it did not stray, while Chen Duohai supported the plow from behind. Before long, the sun climbed high into the sky, and the heat intensified.

The old ox snorted heavily, lowering its head to pull the plow with all its might. Chen Duohai pushed hard from behind as the soil quickly turned over and rolled to the side.

“Hey, Fourth Brother, we’re almost done plowing,” came a voice.

Uncle Chen Duoguang arrived late, a little embarrassed. After all, it was his land being plowed, but he had been held up by Mrs. Zhou at home and only just made it.

“Big Brother.”

“Uncle.”

Though Chen Ping felt reluctant, he maintained the proper courtesy expected of him.

Chen Duoguang hoisted his hoe and joined them in the field, breaking up large clods of earth and tending to the spots the plow couldn’t reach.

By midday, Chen Duoguang invited the two of them, “I told your sister-in-law, let’s eat at my place today.” Chen Duohai was about to decline, but Chen Duoguang, feeling guilty, insisted they come along.

Back at the Chen family manor, Mrs. Zhou’s expression was sour. Chen Ping could tell immediately—she was selfish, content to have others work for her but reluctant to share her food.

Though Chen Duoguang was clearly under his wife’s thumb, he was not unreasonable. Seizing the meal as an opportunity, he said, “Fourth Brother and Ping’er have worked hard. How about we pay a hundred wen for the labor on our five acres?”

He had learned about the plan to send Chen Ping to school and knew that refusing to lend money would be unkind. This was a way to show support. Besides, with Chen Ping’s strength and the old ox’s power, a hundred wen was not much.

Before Chen Duohai could respond, Mrs. Zhou protested, “Dear, we’re family. They just helped a bit—why talk about wages?”

Chen Duoguang frowned. “They deserve the money. As the eldest, I must set an example. We called on Fourth Brother today, but what about Second, Third, and Fifth Brothers? If we have him help without pay, he’ll be working for nothing. He might even be earning more working for others!”

Mrs. Zhou’s face grew even darker. She glared at her husband and whimpered, “Fine, fine, you decide. The three of us women have it hard—can someone take pity on us...”

Chen Duohai opened his mouth to refuse, hoping to avoid more quarrels between his parents once he left. Chen Ping subtly gave his father a look—this was a matter for parents to handle, and he shouldn’t interfere. But if his father stayed too passive, the eldest brother’s family would only become more brazen. It was time to stand firm.

The dining table fell silent. Mrs. Zhou’s loud complaints only made the atmosphere more awkward.

“It's settled then!”

Chen Duoguang glanced at his wife, signaling her to say no more. Mrs. Zhou slammed down her utensils, pulling her children back to their room, reluctantly agreeing—after all, the arrangement wasn’t a loss for her family.

In the afternoon, after finishing the plowing, Chen Duoguang handed over the hundred wen. Soon, other families came seeking Chen Duohai’s help. This time, his labor was paid, and in a few days he earned some money.

Mrs. Xiang knew everyone had opinions, but she was willing to endure some cold stares to send Chen Ping to school and learn to read, just to fight for that chance.

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“Dear, this money isn’t enough. Maybe I should visit my family to borrow some more?”

Chen Duohai shook his head. He knew his father-in-law’s situation well. Everyone’s lives were about the same, and once a daughter was married, ties to her birth family were minimal. Returning to borrow money might stir disapproval from her brothers.

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Chapter Seven: Going Up the Mountain

Chen Ping lay on the wooden bed, listening to his parents fret over his tuition again.

When he heard Chen Duohai mention selling the old ox once more, he could no longer remain still. Although lying down felt good, guilt weighed heavily on his heart.

He needed to do something—for his parents and for his loyal companion, the old ox, who had heard many of his secrets.

The farming was done, and the old ox’s back was rubbed raw from the work. Now it could finally rest and feast in the mountains.

Chen Ping and the old ox ambled along, greeting everyone politely as they passed.

Early in the morning, birds chirped lively in the trees. After a few days away, the grass at the foot of the mountain had grown wild and tall—reaching up to Chen Ping’s calves.

“Moo!”

The old ox let out an excited bellow, grateful for nature’s bounty, and dashed toward the fresh grass.

“You fool, all you think about is eating—you don’t even realize you might be sold,” Chen Ping sighed, pondering how to help his parents earn money so they wouldn’t have to sell the ox. Yet if he earned money, he would be sent to school, which felt like he was betraying himself.

Don’t underestimate a child’s ability to make money. Earning relies on one’s mind and way of thinking, not just hard labor. Some idle people still manage decent incomes.

Suddenly, a plump rabbit darted out from the grass, startling Chen Ping. The rabbit, equally frightened, fled swiftly. Chen Ping patted his chest, relieved it was not a poisonous snake waking from hibernation.

From afar, a few village children ran over upon seeing Chen Ping tending the ox, inviting him to play on the mountain.

At this time, the green hills were the children’s playground, with lush trees and many wild fruits to satisfy their sweet tooth.

Not everything on the mountain was edible. It was best not to touch unfamiliar plants—they could be poisonous. Children raised by the mountains naturally knew what was safe to eat, and that was well understood.

Chen Ping couldn’t appear too different from other children, so he often played with them, though he avoided childish mischief like urinating or playing in the mud.

He followed these “mountain kings” up the hill, searching for edible wild fruits.

Suddenly, a child shouted, “Here are wild raspberries!” The mountain kings dashed over in a flash.

They found themselves in a low-lying, inconspicuous spot, thickly covered with bright red wild raspberries.

Wild raspberries, also called “thorn bubbles” or “April bubbles,” are named for their prickly plants and bubble-shaped fruits. They belong to the rose family and closely resemble strawberries, though smaller.

Chen Ping picked a translucent berry and popped it into his mouth. It was sweet with a hint of tartness, leaving a lingering flavor. Though small, the berries were juicy—only fully ripe ones were sweet and pleasant; unripe berries were astringent.

The children happily picked and ate, choosing the reddest berries. Chen Ping gazed thoughtfully at the patch, knowing these berries were not only edible wild fruits but also valuable medicinal herbs.

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Wild raspberry roots and leaves are used in medicine. The roots are dug up in autumn; leaves can be harvested from spring to autumn. After washing, chopping, and drying, they serve as remedies.

The root promotes blood circulation, stops bleeding, dispels wind and dampness, and treats symptoms like coughing blood, bloody stools, enteritis, dysentery, rheumatic joint pain, bruises, and irregular menstruation. The leaves reduce swelling and detoxify; externally, they treat abscesses and sores.

Chen Ping knew so much thanks to the “Compendium of Materia Medica” his previous life’s father had bought. In rural areas during the 1970s and 80s, hospitals were inconvenient to reach. When children got injured, his father would find herbs and treat them using recipes from the book, a treasure passed down through Chinese civilization.

To children, these wild raspberries were just tasty treats. To Chen Ping, they were money waiting to be made.

Soon, the children had eaten their fill and clamored to find other wild fruits. “Brother Ping, let’s go!” A smaller child ran up, accidentally bumping into Chen Ping, who had been lost in thought and stepped back.

Chen Ping snapped back to reality. His friends were ready to run off, but that wouldn’t do—these were free laborers.

“Hehe.”

The child who bumped into him smiled sheepishly, revealing a missing front tooth—whether from a fall or the tooth-changing period, Chen Ping couldn’t tell.

Chen Ping couldn’t help but smile, his lips curling slightly. “Don’t rush. Help me pick raspberry leaves, and I’ll treat everyone to candy.”

Nothing is free—one must entice with rewards. Only then would these kids work hard.

“Really? Why pick leaves if they’re not edible?”

The children stopped, puzzled, looking at Chen Ping. Candy was a powerful lure; in the countryside, children only got sweets around the New Year. Sweet tastes beat wild raspberries any day.

Chen Ping nodded earnestly, coaxing them, “Really, I never bluff. If you pick a lot, I can pay two candies! People can’t eat these leaves, but I can feed them to the ox!”

A reasonable explanation. The kids just asked casually; as long as they got candy, it was fine.

Chen Ping quickly assigned tasks. Two kids ran home to fetch bamboo baskets. Filling a basket earned one candy. He didn’t know how much medicinal herbs sold for, but candy was plenty reward. He warned his friends to be careful not to get pricked.

Soon, the children filled a small bamboo basket with raspberry leaves and dumped them in Chen Ping’s yard. Their initial enthusiasm faded quickly—kids were playful, and even candy couldn’t keep them working long.

Still, the six or seven children returned with a good amount. Chen Ping glanced over the pile—a small bundle. He would have to clean and dry them, plenty to keep him busy.

After handing out candy, the children scattered. Mrs. Xiang came out and, seeing the heap of raspberry leaves, was surprised. “Why so many raspberry leaves? To eat as wild vegetables?”

“No, Mom, don’t ask,” Chen Ping smiled mysteriously, not ready to reveal his plan to sell medicinal herbs. After all, he wasn’t sure how much they’d fetch and didn’t want his parents to hope in vain.

He pulled a bright red raspberry from his pocket and offered it like a treasure to Mrs. Xiang. “Mom, try this—it’s very sweet.”

Mrs. Xiang’s face lit up as she tasted the wild fruit. Such a filial child he was.

In the days that followed, Chen Ping didn’t push too hard. He had his friends pick raspberry leaves for three days before stopping. Once dried and chopped, he would see if this first venture could succeed before making further plans.

To sell, he would have to go to town. Their village, Nanxi, didn’t even have a local herbalist, let alone a medicine shop.

Everything was ready except for the crucial opportunity. Chen Ping waited patiently for the chance to enter the city.