Chapter 7: Siblings Join Forces to Catch Fish

Stepping out of the house, she was greeted by a clear, bright sky. The clamor and noise were left behind, and Du Yun’s mood lifted considerably.

“Sister, where are we going?” Du Yin’s tiny hand tugged at Du Yun’s, her voice soft and delicate. She gazed up at her sister, her beautiful almond-shaped eyes—so like Du Yun’s own—fixed on her with adoration, as if the air around them was tinged with sweetness.

“We’re going out for some fresh air,” Du Yun replied, looking fondly at her adorable little sister. She reached out to pinch her cheek, but found it lacked the plumpness she’d expected—the girl was simply too thin. Clearly, she needed to be nourished properly.

“Alright!” Du Yin nodded with a bright smile, her manner utterly convinced that whatever her sister said was right. She followed obediently by Du Yun’s side.

Du Yun stood in the courtyard. The newly risen sun shone pale and white, gentle rather than scorching. Under its light, the pear and peach trees planted in the front yard, along with the vegetables that filled the garden, seemed to be wrapped in a faint veil of radiance.

Because the Du family had neither money nor grain, they only grew vegetables and didn’t raise livestock, so the air was filled with the crisp scent of fresh grass. That invigorating sensation made Du Yun take a deep breath, feeling her spirits improve even further.

Hand in hand with her sister, Du Yun walked slowly, her mind pondering how she might make a tidy sum in a short time—only then could she confidently face the marriage proposal from the Dong family.

Yet she had neither capital nor connections, and earning a large profit quickly was a daunting prospect.

Unconsciously, Du Yun had led her sister out the gate. Before them stretched a vast expanse of farmland, tall stalks of sorghum standing proud, the lush green forming a thick curtain that shielded the land.

Suddenly, inspiration struck. Du Yun’s eyes brightened as she surveyed the fields.

Their home was by Lotus River—a name that spoke for itself, a river adorned with many lotus flowers. Du Yun had researched it while writing a novel; although the environment might not favor other crops, it was ideal for growing rice.

The water in the Lotus River basin was pure, and rice cultivated here would certainly be fragrant and tender. If she could seize the opportunity when the rice ripened, acting as a middleman to sell Lotus River rice in the city and pocket the price difference, it would surely be a lucrative venture.

The more she considered it, the more feasible it seemed. Eagerly, Du Yun hurried along the field path, wanting to inspect the rice’s growth. After walking more than a hundred meters to the river’s edge, she realized the crops flanking the path were sorghum and corn.

Du Yun frowned, her eyes filled with doubt. Refusing to give up, she followed the riverbank for several hundred meters, but still found not even a small patch of rice. This realization deepened her frown.

She had assumed that with Lotus River’s abundant water, the area would be a major rice-producing region. Why, then, after walking so far along the riverbank, was there not a single sign of rice?

Was her idea mistaken, or did rice simply not grow here? Disappointment and frustration welled up inside her.

Yet, that couldn’t be. She had seen rice at home—even if only in passing, those white, translucent grains were unmistakably rice. But why was there rice, but no rice fields?

“Sister, sister, fish!” Before Du Yun could puzzle it out, Du Yin cried out in delight, her dark eyes sparkling as she pointed to a hollow by the riverbank.

“Fish? Where?” Du Yun, who had eaten nothing but bland porridge these past days, could foresee months ahead of meatless meals. Even she, not known for craving delicacies, felt her spirits lift at the mention of fish.

By the shimmering river, there was a small pool, separated from the river by evaporation in the summer heat. In this pool, about the size of a large pot, she could just make out the shadows of fish.

“Wonderful, there really are fish!” Du Yun’s spirits soared. Without hesitation, she grabbed Du Yin and dashed toward the pool, quickly slipping off her shoes, rolling up her pant legs, and wading in barefoot.

For children who grew up by the river, finding fish stranded in a pool was like winning the lottery. Du Yun herself hadn’t experienced this before, but the original owner’s memories and instincts guided her, and before she knew it, she was standing in the water.

The water reached her knees, and she could see several dark shapes—some nearly a foot long, others palm-sized. None were large fish, but they would make a good meal for her family.

Du Yun took a deep breath. Even if she felt a bit embarrassed to be catching fish in a stream after living two lives, she resigned herself to it, following the remembered method: she began scooping up river mud to build a dam.

The purpose of the mud dam was to isolate the pool from the river, preventing fish from escaping as the water level fluctuated. These days, every household struggled; losing a few small fish meant losing a precious meal.

Du Yun worked quickly, erecting the dam in no time. She knew well that if she didn’t hurry, others might come and join in, and then it would be a free-for-all.

Soon she was hard at work, and little Du Yin, standing anxiously on the bank, wanted to help but was stopped by Du Yun. The pool might not be deep for her, but it would reach Du Yin’s waist—far too dangerous for a child her age.

“You stay here, go home and bring a basin, and call our little brothers to help,” Du Yun instructed her, watching as Du Yin scampered away, then turned back to the task at hand.

The sun climbed higher, the temperature soared, and the sunlight dazzled her eyes. Cicadas shrilled relentlessly from the bank, unsettling her nerves, but with her legs in the cool river water, she didn’t feel the heat at all.

The river water, stirred up by her fishing, grew cloudy. Sweat dripped from her brow, her hands began to ache, but she refused to stop.

She worked tirelessly, scooping water from the pool bit by bit, hoping her small effort would improve her family’s situation, even if only by providing a single dish of fish.

As the water level dropped, the fish became clearer—a carp, several small crucians and grass carp. Du Yun’s determination grew stronger.

“Sister, sister… we’re here!” Children’s laughter echoed from afar. Her second brother, Du Bai, had brought Du Yin, as well as Second Uncle’s daughter Du Qin, Third Uncle’s daughter Du Fang, and even Third Uncle’s son Du Tong.

The children carried large copper basins and small ladles, and some even brought sieves—though Du Yun couldn’t help but laugh, since sieves would leak water.

In a flash, the group rushed to the pool, sleeves rolled up in excitement. The eldest, Du Fang, was two years younger than Du Yun, and naturally everyone looked to her for direction, even the usually troublesome Du Tong was eager to follow orders.

Soon, several fish surfaced, and the siblings quickly caught them, placed them in the basin, pressed them down with the sieve, and carefully checked the pool to ensure nothing was missed. Their faces beamed with excitement as they headed home with their spoils.

But after taking only a dozen steps, they saw a figure swaying along the riverbank toward them. The sight wiped the joy from Du Yun’s flushed face, casting a shadow over her expression.