Corpse Man

"Kids! Time to eat! Wu-lai, wu-lai, wu-lai!"

Cui Guiying stood by the stove, her apron tightly tied around her waist. Steam rose from the pot of sweet potato porridge as she tapped the ladle against the rim, her voice carrying clearly through the courtyard.

Her husband, Li Weihan, sat on a low stool nearby, stuffing tobacco into his water pipe. He glanced up at her and frowned. "Are you calling the kids, or the pigs?"

Cui Guiying didn't miss a beat as she arranged bowls on the table. "Might as well be calling pigs," she said. "These kids eat like pigs and leave twice the mess."

Just as she finished speaking, the sound of running footsteps echoed from outside, followed by bursts of laughter. Moments later, a group of children burst into the house, each one pushing and shouting to be the first inside.

"Grandma!" "I'm starving!" "Me first!"

The once-quiet home was suddenly filled with energy as the children rushed in, filling every corner.

The couple had five grown children who had all moved away to different cities. This summer, they sent their children back to the countryside to spend time with their grandparents. Eleven grandchildren were in the house this year, and every meal felt like a small war.

Cui Guiying raised her voice above the noise. "Line up! Don't push, or nobody eats!"

The children obediently lined up, though the jostling continued as they tried to inch closer to the front.

At the back of the line stood Li Zhuiyuan, a ten-year-old boy dressed neatly in denim overalls with his hair combed flat. His pale skin and quiet demeanor set him apart from the others, who were all barefoot and tanned from playing under the sun.

When Cui Guiying saw him, her stern expression softened. She ladled an extra spoonful of porridge into his bowl and handed it to him carefully. "Here you go, Zhuiyuan," she said gently.

"Thank you, Grandma," Zhuiyuan said, bowing slightly before stepping aside to eat.

Unlike his cousins, Zhuiyuan wasn't used to the countryside. He had grown up in Beijing, surrounded by skyscrapers and the hustle and bustle of city life. But everything changed when his parents divorced. His mother, overwhelmed by her work, sent him to live with his grandparents in Suyuan Village.

Though Li Zhuiyuan had arrived quietly, his reserved nature and politeness quickly won over his grandparents. They treated him with a blend of warmth and protectiveness, aware that he carried a sadness the other children didn't understand.

"Grandma," Huzi, a mischievous nine-year-old, said as he plopped down on a stool. "Why aren't we going to Great-Grandpa Huzi's house today? Didn't he have another feast coming?"

"What feast?" Cui Guiying asked, puzzled.

"The one with all the singing and dancing!" Huzi's eyes sparkled as he remembered. "Yesterday!"

"That wasn't a feast," Cui Guiying said with a laugh. "That was a funeral. Do you think people have funerals every day?"

"Why not?" Huzi grinned. "There was so much food!"

"You silly boy," she said, shaking her head but smiling. "Funerals aren't for eating. You should show some respect."

The children burst into laughter, their chatter mixing with the sound of spoons scraping against bowls.

Suddenly, one of the older boys, Panzi, pointed at Zhuiyuan's bowl. "Grandma," he said, his voice sharp, "why does Zhuiyuan get meat in his porridge? We didn't get any!"

"Yeah!" chimed in Leizi, another boy. "That's not fair!"

The table grew quieter as all eyes turned to Cui Guiying. Her expression didn't change as she answered, her voice firm. "The meat is from the money your Aunt Zhilan sent. It's for her son. Your parents haven't given me so much as a grain of rice this summer, so don't even think about asking for his share."

The older children fell silent, lowering their heads and focusing on their bowls. The younger ones, too young to understand the tension, continued eating as if nothing had happened.

After a long moment, eight-year-old Shitou hesitated before speaking up. "Grandma, is the lady who sang and danced at the funeral still here?"

"The lady who sang and danced?" Cui Guiying looked at him, puzzled.

"Yeah!" Huzi chimed in, his voice excited. "She was so pretty! She danced and sang a lot!"

Cui Guiying froze, her face becoming unreadable for a brief moment. Then, she chuckled softly. "Ah, Little Oriole…" she murmured, more to herself than anyone else.

The children looked at her, uncertain, sensing that she wasn't eager to continue the conversation. Outside, the chickens clucked and the distant sound of a neighbor calling echoed across the courtyard.

"Eat your porridge," Cui Guiying said finally, her voice steady. "There's work to do before the sun gets too hot."