Chapter 34: Old Sha and the Family of Mice

Under Teacher Sullivan’s stern guidance, the mischievous young mice no longer dared to act out. The entire morning was spent discussing the essentials of wilderness survival, and Yang Jie, tucked away in an inconspicuous corner, listened with keen interest; his only discomfort was the growing ache in his legs. The ratfolk’s legs were rather short, making prolonged standing especially uncomfortable for Yang Jie.

At the sound of Sullivan’s “Class dismissed,” the young mice rushed joyfully from the classroom. Yang Jie didn’t linger either, clasping his hands behind his back as he began to wander. He had no destination, no particular direction—just a simple stroll.

After weaving through the streets for about ten minutes, he found himself in a lively, widening avenue. More and more tribesfolk seemed to be heading the same way, their numbers swelling with each step. Yang Jie’s curiosity was piqued; he stopped a passing ratfolk to inquire what was happening.

“Chief, you don’t know?” an elderly ratwoman replied, surprised.

“Know what? I don’t know anything,” Yang Jie answered, bewildered by her response.

“Today is Minister Sha’s wedding day—he’s hosting a grand feast, and everyone’s invited to eat and drink as much as they wish,” the old ratwoman explained.

“Old Sha? Getting married? A feast?” Yang Jie was astonished. He grabbed her arm as she was about to leave and asked hurriedly, “Didn’t he just get married last month? Why is he marrying again today? Did he divorce the last one?”

He fired off three questions in a breathless rush, sounding like a curious child.

“Oh, last time was his first wife. This time it’s his second. Not the same thing!” The old ratwoman was already on edge, worried she’d lose her seat if she tarried. “Chief, I really must go or there’ll be no place left,” she said, trotting away with surprising vigor for her age.

Yang Jie was left standing there, a bit lost in thought.

“A second wife? Is that how things are done here?” His curiosity mounting, he hurried in the same direction as the crowd.

Soon, at the corner of the street, he spotted Old Sha standing at his door with a basket on his arm, beaming and greeting every guest. Beside him stood two young female rats—presumably his new and previous wives.

“Old Sha keeps himself in good shape for his age,” Yang Jie remarked wryly. He then noticed each guest dropping a small pebble, about the size of a fingernail, into Old Sha’s basket.

He understood this was an old Andean ratfolk custom: every guest who came to offer congratulations would have the young males of their family find a pebble of just the right size to bring along. This pebble would then be dropped into the host’s basket, symbolizing wishes for many healthy children. If a family had no sons, they were expected to give double the customary gift. In the absence of currency, bartering was common, and food was the most valued commodity.

These unwritten traditions were difficult for Yang Jie to fully grasp, but custom was custom—it was not for anyone to question its logic.

The old bias favoring sons over daughters, it seemed, ran deep in every feudal and primitive society.

Looking up, Yang Jie took in the impressive walls of Old Sha’s home. Even the façade visible from the street stretched at least fifty meters, to say nothing of the inner courtyards, where as many as two hundred ratfolk could be hosted for a banquet at once.

Seeing the grandeur of Old Sha’s estate, Yang Jie’s brow furrowed with a string of dark lines. He couldn't help but grumble inwardly: “Old Sha, just how much has the tribe lost to your greed?”

He had half a mind to join the merriment, but the thought quickly faded.

“I’ll have to find a chance to warn him,” he mused. Ratfolk as cunning as Old Sha were rare, but few were so brazen about their avarice. The thought made Yang Jie’s head ache; he shook it off and wandered away, hands still clasped behind his back.

...

Late at night.

Old Sha sat in his own living room, sampling the delicacies his servants had prepared, accompanied by his newlywed wife. His eldest son, Huili, knelt beside the dining table, barely daring to breathe. Old Sha was notorious for his severity—toward his subordinates and especially toward his only son.

With his first wife, Susan, Old Sha had seven children—Huili, the eldest and only son, and six daughters. In this male-dominated society, their family’s lopsided composition was a constant topic of gossip.

At that moment, Susan sashayed into the room, her movements graceful and feline.

“Son, get up and eat. Next time, be more careful in class and don’t upset your Aunt Sullivan again,” she said, her heart aching to see Huili kneeling on the stone floor for nearly an hour. As a mother, she hurried to help him up.

Smack!

“Leave him!” Old Sha slammed the table and barked at Susan, “Go back to your room and mind your own business!”

Being scolded so harshly in front of the second wife, Susan’s temper flared.

“You old fool! What’s gotten into you today? He’s your only son, yet you treat him like this! What are you thinking?” She was clearly used to having her way and didn’t back down from a confrontation.

“That’s precisely why I must be strict with him! As a mother, you haven’t disciplined him at all, always off enjoying yourself while he turns into this spoiled brat!” Old Sha shot to his feet, pointing angrily at her.

“All this over a little mistake in class?” Susan retorted. “You’re never home yourself, always too busy to spend time with your only child, and now you blame me for poor discipline! What’s your real motive?”

She wasn’t wrong—Old Sha was always busy with work, and she herself preferred to play. As a result, Huili was left to run wild with the children of the rat farmers.

“I’m away because I have work to do! Every matter in the tribe, big or small, needs my attention. Why do you think you get to shirk your duties?” Old Sha’s words made Susan’s face flush, but, knowing she was at fault, she could only glare at him in frustration.

“Is it such a big deal? Of course it is! Today’s class was filled with children from every family in the tribe. By tomorrow, everyone will know. How am I supposed to save face?”

Glancing down at Huili, who still didn’t dare look up, Old Sha’s anger only grew. Comparing Huili—idle, lazy, overweight, and undisciplined—to Carl, the third son of Old Gil’s family, was a constant source of humiliation.

Old Sha sighed and shook his head in exasperation.

“Face, face! You think I don’t know about your escapades outside? How much is your precious face worth, anyway?” Susan’s voice trembled with anger. Old Sha’s notorious lust had always been a sore point for her, the subject of much rumor and gossip.

Old Sha snorted coldly.

“You think I care about my reputation?” he said, jabbing a finger at his own nose. “I oversee more than two hundred tribe members in the construction division. If word gets out that I can’t even discipline my own son, how will I command respect? Without respect, how will I manage my work? And if I can’t do my job, what right do we have to live in such a grand house, or for you to idle about every day? I started as a laborer, carrying bricks, and worked my way up to head of construction and planning. Do you know how many envy me, how hard I’ve worked? I don’t ask much of you—just that you think of this family once in a while! Foolish woman, utterly clueless!”

With that, Old Sha slumped into his chair, breathing heavily.

Susan, for her part, now looked more like a chastened child than a defiant wife.

“In a few days there will be a selection for the guards. I’ve already registered you,” Old Sha said to Huili, who was still kneeling, “You will attend. Do you hear me?”

Huili nodded dully.

The new wife, Orlissa, seeing that the storm had passed, hurried to smooth Old Sha’s fur, soothing him with gentle words. Once his anger had subsided, she walked over to Susan.

“Sister, it’s getting late. Go get some rest. Old Sha’s work has been stressful lately—don’t take it to heart,” she said. She then helped Huili to his feet, stroking his chubby head with comforting words.

Before long, Orlissa had coaxed Susan and Huili back to their rooms, restoring peace to the household.

“You know as well as I do—Huili’s not cut out for the guards,” Old Sha remarked to Orlissa with a wry smile.

“You think I expect him to win? I only want him to see for himself the gap between him and the other children—to give him a wake-up call.”