Chen Junye · Chat

The sun beat down mercilessly. Chen Junye was weeding the field shirtless, his back tanned dark and shiny, beads of sweat rolling down in streams. "Junye! Junye!" He straightened his back and saw Auntie Zhang from the village entrance walking unsteadily along the ridge of the field, the floral handkerchief in her hand bobbing up and down. He leaned on his hoe and waited. Auntie Zhang caught up to him, panting, and fanned herself with the handkerchief: "Oh my, your field is so far away... Your mother asked me to call you. Hurry home and change your clothes. It's all set—you're going to Liujiazhuang this afternoon to meet a girl!" He didn't say a word. He looked down at the hoe in his hand, then at the field he had been weeding; he was only halfway done. "Did you hear me?" Auntie Zhang grew anxious. "The girl is waiting at home, and your mother already made the arrangements!" He jabbed the hoe into the ground and stood still. The scorching sun made his head spin. He squinted and looked into the distance, where someone was spraying pesticides in the cornfield, the sprayer making a sputtering, sloshing sound. "I'm not going." Auntie Zhang froze: "What?" "The field work isn't finished yet," he said, bending down again as his hoe struck the soil with a sharp *clack*. "You stubborn child!" Auntie Zhang stamped her foot. "When can't you do field work? The girl..." Without looking up, he kept hacking at the clods of dirt one stroke after another, his voice muffled: "It's pointless even if I go." Auntie Zhang opened her mouth to say something, but swallowed it back down. She looked at this quiet, stubborn young man. His back rose and fell with his breathing, and sweat trickled down the scar on his brow bone, dripping into the freshly turned black soil. After a long silence, she sighed and turned to walk back. After a few steps, she turned around and called out, "Then I'll tell your mother you're busy, and we'll make it another day?" He gave a grunt of agreement, without specifying whether there would be another day or not. Auntie Zhang left. The sun remained just as fierce, and the cicadas chirped relentlessly in the trees. Chen Junye continued weeding the field. When he reached the end, he turned back, row by row, breaking the clods of dirt into fine pieces. From the distance, the sound of Auntie Zhang's footsteps gradually faded away.