Wind whipped around Li Wei’s ears, a cold whisper against his exposed skin. He shifted his weight, testing the stability of the aged roof tiles beneath his worn straw sandals. Evening had settled, painting the sky in deep purples and oranges, but the chill that penetrated his thin work clothes was sharper, less picturesque.
Huffing, Li Wei’s feet stepped onto the roof. A tile had somehow shifted, causing cold air to seep into the small house at night. He wanted it fixed before his beloved wife, Lin Wei, returned. She had gotten permission to return to her home four days after their wedding, so she could inform her family and move her address book from the city to the village officially. She should be returning tomorrow.
His brow furrowed with concentration. The loose tile was near the ridge, tricky to reach without disturbing others. He moved with a practiced grace born of years working the land and maintaining the modest dwelling his parents had left him. The house, humble as it was, needed to be a comfortable haven for Lin Wei. Their new life together deserved nothing less.
Lin Wei. The name brought a strange mix of warmth and unease to his gut. He’d met her six months ago when he went to pick up the educated youths alongside the village chief. Initially, he hadn’t noticed her in *that* way. She was just another face among the tired, hopeful young people arriving from the city, their city clothes ill-suited for the dusty journey.
They had arrived in the village, a cluster of new faces looking overwhelmed by their stark surroundings. She tripped while getting down from the cart, a clumsy fall that sent a small bag scattering its contents across the dirt. He had steadied her, his large hand firm on her arm, preventing a worse tumble. Her eyes, wide and startled, had met his for a brief moment.
Days later, in thanks, she had made him lunch. A simple meal, but thoughtfully prepared. She handed it to him while he was on the field at lunchtime, her small frame looking almost delicate against the vast expanse of the commune’s fields. Many had seen that exchange. Rumors, as swift and relentless as the village wind, had started going around about them being together.
He remembered the knot of anxiety that had tightened in his chest. Gossip could ruin a person’s reputation, especially a young woman’s. To prevent any damage, he asked to meet her. He intended to tell her not to bring him anything, to avoid giving further fuel to the wagging tongues. His intentions had been clear, honorable even.
But… he somehow blacked out. The memory was a frustrating, terrifying blank. He remembered walking to the agreed meeting spot, the sun warm on his neck, the rustle of dry leaves underfoot. Then, nothing. His next conscious moment was a jarring shock. He came to, disoriented, feeling the rough earth beneath his back, and the sudden, overwhelming sensation of her presence.
They were entangled. Her clothes were rumpled, her hair disheveled. Lin Wei was crying in fright, her small body trembling uncontrollably. Panic had surged through him, hot and cold, as he scrambled to understand. The situation was undeniable, damning. His mind raced, desperate to piece together the missing moments, but they remained stubbornly absent.
He had no choice. Not if he wanted to protect her, to protect them both from the crushing weight of village censure. He had to make it right. He promised to marry her, the words tasting like ash and iron on his tongue. A week later, he announced their impending marriage, set for August 1st. They would be building a new house, too, as the one he lived in, inherited from his parents, was barely livable after years of neglect and the harsh elements.
Thankfully, Lin Wei was distantly related to another female educated youth, who was originally from the village. In thanks for the Lin family taking care of their daughter in the city, the relative agreed to help build it, rallying some men from their own extended family to assist. The construction had been swift, a flurry of communal effort. Now, it was almost finished, save for small repairs like this one.
Li Wei carefully pried up the broken tile, its edge sharp against his calloused thumb. The chill wind rushed into the small opening, a promise of colder nights to come. He imagined Lin Wei shivering beneath their thin quilt, and a surge of determination filled him. He would make sure their home was warm, safe. He would be a good husband, despite the strange, cloudy beginning of their union.
He reached for the new tile he’d brought up with him, a sturdy replacement he’d bartered for in the next village. The sun had fully dipped below the horizon now, leaving the sky a deep, star-dusted velvet. Village lights twinkled faintly below, like scattered embers. Sounds drifted up to him: a dog barking, the distant murmur of voices, the rhythmic thump of a pestle in a mortar from a nearby kitchen.
His mind wandered to Lin Wei’s return. He pictured her face, soft and pretty, her city-bred elegance still clinging to her despite months of village life. He felt a pang of protectiveness. Life here was hard, much harder than the city she’d left. He hoped she wouldn’t regret her choice, their choice, forced as it had been. He hoped she would find happiness with him.
He carefully aligned the new tile, making sure it overlapped correctly with its neighbors. The roof, though old, had served his family for generations. It represented stability, a legacy. He was now its guardian, responsible for keeping it whole, for keeping his new family warm and dry beneath it. The weight of that responsibility settled heavily, yet reassuringly, on his shoulders.
The air grew colder still, biting at his ears and nose. He worked swiftly, methodically, his movements sure and strong. This was his home, his life. He had to embrace it, nurture it. He thought of the harvest, the long days in the fields, the collective struggle of the commune. It was a hard life, but it was honest. He would provide for Lin Wei.
What truly happened that day? The question, though unspoken, was a persistent, nagging echo in the back of his mind. He had tried to push it away, to focus on the future, on his duties as a husband. But the blank space remained, a disconcerting void in his memory. It felt unnatural, like a piece of his own story had been forcibly ripped away. He had never blacked out before.
He didn't dwell on it for long. There was no time for such philosophical musings. Practical matters demanded his attention. The roof was priority. Lin Wei's comfort was priority. He pressed down firmly on the new tile, ensuring it was secure. A quick tap with his palm, and it settled into place, a perfect fit.
Finally, the repair was complete. He straightened up, stretching the kinks from his back. The cold air felt less oppressive now that his task was done. A faint sense of accomplishment swelled within him. Tomorrow, when Lin Wei returned, she would sleep soundly, unaware of the small battle he’d fought against the encroaching chill.
---
Li Wei moved towards to ladder to get down when a faint breeze swept by his face carrying that faint familiar lavender scent.