The Chinese Dream on Earth

Yin Flourishes as Yang Wanes, Starting from Scratch

During the pandemic, alone and often lost in thought, I found myself contemplating how ancient people might have survived in complete isolation. Unwittingly, my mind wandered to the ways of my ancestors.

In a remote village where survival hinged on the traditional roles of men tilling the fields and women weaving, my ancestors chose a life of seclusion, shrouded in anonymity. As outsiders gradually merged and the family expanded, the village's population slowly increased, fostering more frequent interactions among its inhabitants.

The turning point came with an ancestor who was chronically ill and too weak for physical labor. In a society dominated by agriculture, his condition nearly guaranteed a life of poverty and hardship. Fortunately, he had a wise and frugal wife who managed their finances shrewdly, using the savings to hire help during the busy farming seasons. Known for her culinary skills and kindness, she differed from other employers by ensuring the hired hands were well-fed, allowing them to return home only after dinner. Recognized for her generosity and compassion, the laborers worked diligently, often volunteering extra hours after their meals. Over the years, under her diligent management, the family's land holdings grew, eventually elevating them to one of the wealthiest in the village. Many farmers even willingly sold their lands to become long-term or seasonal workers for her.

Through this ascent, I deeply felt the resilience, despair, benevolence, strength, wisdom, and maternal warmth of a woman who shaped our family's fortunes. I also sensed the simplicity and goodness of the villagers. This tableau of mutual support and dependence brought warmth to my modern soul.

By the time of my great-grandfather, our family possessed substantial land and had two robust sons. My grandfather, the elder and healthier, was groomed to take over the family estate; his brother, having suffered from polio in childhood, was encouraged to pursue education. He became the first from our area to graduate from a teachers' college, eventually rising to become a principal of a local high school. Despite his physical impairment, his stature and intellect attracted many suitors. Ultimately, he married a daughter from a prominent landlord family, with a dowry procession that stretched for miles, marking him as a true victor in life.

In those days, our family homes clustered together in a single alley. After marriage, each family member received a few rooms for independent living, yet all remained under one large familial roof. My grandfather, tasked with overseeing the estates while his father was alive, found himself with little authority and thus, fell into a life of idleness, developing vices like horse riding, bird walking, eating, drinking, and gambling. It was rumored that after losing two sacks of rice in a daytime gamble with a landlord from Yinjia Village, and unable to ask his family for more, he agreed to meet the other party at midnight outside his window to secretly return the rice.

Although notorious for his leisurely lifestyle, my grandfather's sartorial flair and the family's wealth made marriage an easy affair for him. He married thrice; his first wife bore no children, the second had three sons and a daughter, and the third had two sons and a daughter. My granduncle, known throughout the region as a scholar, took only one wife, who bore him three sons.

If the story were to end there, one might think they lived happily ever after. Yet, fate sometimes intervenes to test us, bringing both good and bad in its wake.