Silver Coin
Late hours of dawn, the crimson curtains of sunlight cascaded from the east, slowly enveloping the village range and its periphery.
Inside a plain-looking hut, a mediocre flame wavered about, seemingly about to extinguish. However, a woman who sat nearby would occasionally toss a piece of oiled wood into the flames, keeping it alive and burning.
In a corner about five steps away, Yang Lin slowly fluttered his thin eyelashes, he was certain he didn't get a full night's sleep as vivid recollections of the silhouette belonging to his aunt flashed through his consciousness along with an excruciating migraine. He recalled spotting her with a ball of silk, pair of copper needles, and a shin height boot sparsed over her lap.
Only then did Yang Lin notice the odd sensation of frost that crept along his feet, he inadvertently rubbed his small feet for a bit of friction.
This little friction alarmed the woman, she hurriedly turned her head over with an apologetic expression, she seemed to not notice the needle poking into her flesh, the unadorned sheets over Yang Lin seemed to absorb her attention.
"Lin'er! Quickly cover up your feet!" She shouted quietly, then she noticed the odor of her blood and gasped lightly.
Yang Lin smiled bitterly, he shook his head and struggled to get up, slowly wrapping up the thin sheets that barely covered him. If he was to desire warmth for one half of his body, he had to neglect the other. This was his life ever since he grew taller.
"Mother, I'm fine." By the time he spoke, Yang Lin was already by her side, he then used the plain sheets to wrap her fidgeting hands, the more he looked, the more his heart trembled.
At this point, he didn't care who his real mother was, he just knew that this woman loved him in a way that would put every mother in the village to shame.
A poor family of two, this aunt of his had relied on sewing to modify his pair of boots accordingly to his growth, her digits have already failed her to the point where she can't firmly contain vegetables in her palms. If Yang Lin wasn't around to prepare food, all she could prepare was light soup.
Yet, due to his rash, irrational behavior this winter, she had to practice sewing, further damaging her delicate hands in the process.
"Mother, don't worry. We will sell the wood this afternoon, then we will pay a visit to auntie, she can do my boots for me." Yang Lin spoke softly, he maintained a gentle hold on his adoptive mother's hands as he did.
The woman's eyes grew misty and she said, "Your auntie is useless, your auntie can't even provide you with footwear anymore..." As she said this, she felt a shudder in her heart.
For over ten years, she selflessly brought up Yang Lin, even when everyone in the village belittled her as a foolish woman for bringing up a child all on her own, she didn't care.
She wanted to prove that she can also be a mother, even if life failed her and gave her half a body, she didn't frown and did all she could.
"Don't call yourself my auntie, you're my only mother in this life. Mother, don't let those people toy with your mind, even if they say you're no real mother of mine, I don't care, I love you." Yang Lin spoke softly, he then kissed the woman's head, his cold lips tugging lightly against the white strands of hair decorating the woman's scalp.
He then said, "Rest now, it's been hard on you."
She didn't know if it was Yang Lin's words or the way her heart easied down when she saw him waking up after suddenly dropping unconscious. However, her strength had dissipated from her bit by bit, and the boots slowly plopped on the ground from her lap.
She muttered out some incoherent words against Yang Li's abdomen as she slowly drifted off to sleep.
The echoing cries of birds slowly resonated with the morning sun, but Yang Li was focused on the calm breathing of this woman who put her all into nurturing him. She peacefully slept in his embrace, and he didn't hesitate to strip down his robes and cover up her frail shoulders as she slept.
After making sure his adoptive mother is sleeping in peace, the shirtless Yang Lin unhurriedly picked up the stash of wood and headed outside...
In order to make a living of the maple wood, he needs to chop it down into symmetrical wooden logs of moderate sizes. This type of activity would distract Yang Lin from the frosty stings and all-encompassing winter chill.
Yang Lin calmed down the turmoil of feelings in his heart, he then focused on the image of that one young lass. Whenever he thought of becoming an adult, turning 16 of age, and confessing his feelings to her, Yang Lin's blood boils.
Unknowingly, a spark of determination would rekindle his dormant heart as he withstood the onslaught of this ubiquitous chill.
Ha!
Ha!
Ha!
Like this, Yang Lin spent his morning hours cleaving apart the maple wood with a copper ax.
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"Lin'er, you don't need to accompany me, let me visit her by myself..." Yang Lin's adoptive mother spoke, she rested her palms underneath a white sheet of cloth over her lap, her head lowered, and her tone a little bitter.
Behind her, Yang Lin pushed the wheelchair whilst he stacked a pile worth 40 jins of maple wood on his back. Yang Lin smiled, not responding, but he merely leaned in to kiss his adoptive mother's head.
The woman sighed in self-depreciation, but deep down she felt blissed...
It took about a stick of incense time before Yang Lin and his adoptive mother ventured into the bustling streets of the village. The buildings were of similar quality to their home, young kids would dash through the muddly roads, their silver laughter reverberating and intermingling with the crisp shouts of shopkeepers around every corner.
Yang Lin didn't say much, but his left palm stretched to gently hold his adoptive mother's left shoulder, as he could see her body lightly shaking.
"Oh!" Just then, an elderly woman who sat in behind a tapestry that contained a sparse amalgamation of herbs gasped aloud.
She then put on a ridiculing smile and said, "If it isn't sister Ha. Or should I say, sister Yang?" The woman then began to unceremoniously chuckle, her voice was rather loud when she spoke.
Her sudden outburst suddenly attracted a wave of attention, causing a bit of a dark commotion to ripple out as someone said, "That sad woman. To think she was so desperate to convince that poor child, she didn't even hesitate to take his surname as her own..."
The one who spoke was another old lady, she shook her head as she uttered her venomous words, though she wasn't as blunt as the woman from earlier.
The topic about Old Ha, adopting the surname of a foreign man, was a frequent gossip in the Cloud Mist Village.
As the discussion grew hotter, Yang Lin's grip on his adoptive mother's shoulder grew tighter. He didn't need to look at her downcast face, he was already used to the odor of her tears, and the subtle changes to her breathing whenever she's containing those tears.
Silently, Yang Lin pushed the wheelchair and vowed to himself that one day, once his mother passed away, he will accumulate sufficient strength to overturn this entire village stone by stone.
Just as he was engrossed in his thoughts, an old woman called out from a distance.
"Young lad, I hope you would sell me the wood for one silver coin."
This unadorned yet crisp voice jolted Yang Lin awake, this was akin to someone offering their house to buy a piece of bread.
Not just Yang Lin, but his adoptive mother who was on the verge of breaking into tears from humiliation froze in her emotions.