Cui Guiying, with an apron around her waist, held a bowl in her left hand and a spoon in her right, calling out while tapping the edge of the porridge vat.
Sitting beside her, Li Weihan, who was filling his water pipe with tobacco leaves, kicked the woman's ample buttocks without good cheer, cursing:
"Have you gone daft, calling pigs?"
Cui Guiying glared at her man and forcefully set a stack of bowls in front of him, spitting back:
"Pah, pigs can't be as noisy or eat as much as they do!"
At her call, a horde of children ran in from outside, seven boys and four girls, the oldest sixteen and the youngest only three.
Li Weihan and his wife had four sons and one daughter who had grown up and moved out to lead their own lives. Normally, only the eldest's family, who lived close by, would leave their pair of three-year-old twins to be raised here.
But when the summer holidays arrived, whether for convenience or feeling cheated out of their parents' favor, everyone would send their children over.
Accepting the eldest's kids meant it would be impolite to refuse the others, and just like that, their home turned into a veritable schoolhouse.
The couple hadn't had a chance to savor the sweetness of a house full of grandchildren before the family's rice jar threatened to bottom out.
As the saying goes, teenagers can eat their parents into ruin. Including the girls, all were at an age of rapid growth, tremendously voracious, each with a stomach like a bottomless pit. Cui Guiying's family had to keep their staple foods in huge vats, and even one vat wasn't enough; another pot kept warm on the stove.
Despite having a throng of grandchildren, the couple wasn't very old, and according to current rural norms, unless you were sick in bed and had lost your ability to work, you weren't entitled to enjoy meals provided by your children, no matter how old you were.
"Don't rush, form a line, all reborn hungry ghosts you seem, line up!"
The children were taking turns with their bowls to receive the porridge, ladled out by Cui Guiying.
The last to come over was a ten-year-old boy. He wore denim overalls and fashionable sandals, his skin fair and face shy.
Out of place amidst his siblings who were dirty and snotty-nosed.
"Little Yuanhou, come, eat here."
"Thank you, Grandma."
Cui Guiying smiled as she patted the child's head; he was the only grandchild from her side among the big flock, though not anymore.
The child's name was Li Zhiyuan. His mother was Cui Guiying's youngest daughter, the first university student from Si Yuan Village.
After graduating from a university in Beijing, she stayed to work in the city. Her partner, whom she had met on her own, was brought home once before marrying, a delicate and cultured city dweller.
Cui Guiying couldn't clearly recall his features, as both she and Li Weihan were too nervous to look closely in front of their son-in-law.
Later, when her daughter became pregnant and had a son, the distance and busy work meant she never returned home, but since graduating and working, she sent money home every month without fail.
The money sent before the marriage, Li Weihan and his wife saved it all. They endured without touching a cent for their sons' weddings, and when their daughter brought her fiancé home, Li Weihan pushed back the betrothal money offered and returned all the money their daughter had sent.
They wanted to have the pride of giving more, but with their four sons married off earlier, even with the tightest of belts, they couldn't squeeze any more blood from the turnip.
This had always left the couple feeling guilty; returning the money their daughter gave basically meant they contributed nothing for their daughter's wedding, a true loss of face.
As for the money the daughter sent each month after her marriage, they also kept it saved. When their sons, nudged by their wives, tried to lay claim to the funds with various excuses, Li Weihan shooed them away with a pointed finger and harsh words.
Half a month ago, their daughter sent her son over with a soldier, along with a letter and some money, explaining that she was divorced and her work faced recent changes. She could only entrust her son to her parents for a time.
She also said in her letter that after the divorce, she changed her son's surname to match hers, transforming the grandson once removed into a direct grandson.
After arriving in the countryside, Li Zhiyuan not only adapted swiftly, but also quickly integrated, enjoying himself immensely playing from one end of the village to the other with several brothers.
Their staple that day was sweet potato porridge, sweet to taste but not very filling, digesting quickly. Even after downing several large bowls to the point of round bellies, running around for a bit would make them hungry again.
Moreover, eating too much sweet potato porridge or sweet potato slices could indeed harm the stomach; even when not hungry, just looking at it could give one stomach acid.
Li Zhiyuan, however, had not grown tired of it. He quite enjoyed this "big dining hall" atmosphere, and Cui Guiying's various salty pickles and sauces were particularly to his taste.
"Granny, why don't we go to Big Beard's house for a feast today?"
The inquirer was an uncle's son nicknamed Hu Zi, nine years old this year.
Cui Guiying tapped Hu Zi's head with the back of her chopsticks and scolded: "You nitwit, that was a mourning banquet they were holding because their mother passed away. Do you want them to have a feast every day?"
Hu Zi, clutching his head, retorted: "Why not, it would be nice to have one every day."
"You nitwit, what nonsense. Even if they wanted to, there aren't enough people dying in a queue every day for that."
"Smack!" Li Weihan slammed the table with his chopsticks and roared: "What nonsense are you, an adult, spouting to the kid."
Realizing her own slip of the tongue, Cui Guiying didn't retort to her husband but instead spooned a chunk of salty sauce into Li Zhiyuan's bowl beside her. The sauce contained bits of peanut and meat, just like the spoonful she just dished out.