“What in the world is going on? Could Zhou Dafa have actually sold the house? If the house is gone, where are we supposed to find him? Forget it, let’s just go back and ask around tomorrow,” Hongxia said.

Er Niu, however, felt this was improper. “The person who sent the letter said Zhou Dafa wouldn't last much longer. Since we've already come all this way, we should at least see him before leaving. You stay here with the children; I’ll go ask what happened.”

Hongxia nodded. Er Niu and the hired hand walked toward the village. Er Niu questioned several households, but initially, no one was willing to talk. The mention of Zhou Dafa made everyone grit their teeth in hatred, and they offered Er Niu no friendly reception. Finally, after persistently questioning an old man, they learned that not long after divorcing Hongxia, Zhou Dafa had sold all his fields and the house. He hadn't returned to the village at first, but for some unknown reason, he had started frequenting the place, causing trouble everywhere—stealing chickens, harassing village women, making every family fearful of him. Eventually, a cousin, seeing he had nowhere even to sleep upon his return, gave him a dilapidated thatched hut to stay in. He should be at that hut now. After learning the location of the thatched hut, Er Niu and the hired hand turned back toward the village entrance.

Er Niu returned to the ox cart but didn't tell Hongxia everything he’d heard, only saying that Dafa no longer lived in his old place but had moved elsewhere. The thatched hut the man mentioned was still some distance away. Er Niu told the hired hand to drive the ox cart along. After a considerable journey, they spotted a run-down thatched hut situated somewhat remotely from the main village. A faint light seemed visible inside, suggesting it was the right place, Er Niu thought.

Stopping the ox cart outside the hut, Er Niu led the two children inside. By the weak lamplight, they indeed saw a person lying on a wooden plank inside. Drawing closer, they recognized Zhou Dafa, though he was vastly changed. He was so thin he was little more than bone, his breath shallow and ragged. Seeing Er Niu enter, he tried to speak but lacked the strength; he could only flutter his eyelids and failed to lift his hand. Er Niu pushed Yuanzhu and Yuanbao forward and said, “Dafa, these are Yuanzhu and Yuanbao, your two children. I brought them to see you.”

Yuanbao, seeing the skeletal Zhou Dafa, hesitated to approach, hiding behind his older sister, only watching Zhou Dafa with his eyes. Yuanzhu was braver, standing slightly ahead, looking at Zhou Dafa. Finally, she called out softly, “Father.”

Zhou Dafa’s eyes immediately welled up. He wanted to say something but couldn't; he simply stared at Yuanzhu and Yuanbao before him, his eyes filled with regret—surely remorse for all the wrongs he had committed. And indeed, he should regret it; had Zhou Dafa not been so utterly awful, he wouldn't have ended up in this state.

Zhou Dafa glanced around the small room, his gaze lingering near the doorway. Er Niu knew he was looking for Hongxia and went out to call her in. In truth, Hongxia was already standing at the threshold, intending to step inside briefly just to bring Dafa some peace before he departed, perhaps earning a little bit of merit.

Hongxia nodded and entered the room. Although Zhou Dafa had certainly been terribly wrong, and even though Hongxia had been resolute in her words at home, stepping inside and seeing his condition caused a pang of sorrow in her heart. Zhou Dafa was so emaciated he couldn't weigh ninety jin; he was just a collection of bones, his eyes large and skull-like, a chilling sight. Nevertheless, Hongxia approached the side of Zhou Dafa’s makeshift bed and said, “Don’t worry. I will raise the children well. I will teach Yuanbao properly so he doesn’t follow your path.”

Seeing Hongxia and hearing her words, a faint smile touched Zhou Dafa’s lips, and he closed his eyes peacefully. It seemed the last bit of strength he held onto was just to glimpse Hongxia and his children one last time. Zhou Dafa passed away. Hongxia shed a few tears and sighed, remarking that with his condition, none of Dafa’s relatives would likely care for him. Given they had been married once, tomorrow she would spend some money in town to buy a cheap coffin and arrange a simple funeral for Zhou Dafa.

The next day, Er Niu, Da Sheng, and Da Jiang did not go to work. They loaded Hongxia and the three children onto the ox cart and took them to the site of Zhou Dafa’s dead-end. Qingshan had gone to town to buy the coffin. At a time like this, even the simplest funeral required many arrangements, but Zhou Dafa’s relatives on his side were completely uninvolved. It was only because Hongxia’s kin were good-hearted, truly unable to watch Zhou Dafa die without anyone to bury him, that they undertook the task.

Hongxia dressed the two children in mourning clothes; at last, someone was there to wear the weeds and hemp for him. Er Niu, Da Jiang, and Da Sheng helped complete the necessary rites. When Qingshan returned with the coffin, they buried Zhou Dafa. Many villagers came to watch the interment; naturally, they all recognized Hongxia. Some who didn't know about their separation commented on how cruel Hongxia seemed, not returning for so many years, only to bury her husband so hastily. But those who knew praised Hongxia’s family for their immense kindness—the man had essentially sold them off, yet they returned to arrange the funeral; it was truly rare.

Hongxia’s family ignored what others were saying. In one day, they managed to bury Zhou Dafa. Although the rites were simple, everything that needed to be done was done. Hongxia then took the children and returned home.

Upon arriving at Mother Zhao’s house, Zhao Shi inquired, “Is everything settled over there?”

“It is,” Hongxia replied.

“You are truly kind. That Zhou Dafa treated you and the children so poorly, yet you spent both money and effort on his funeral. Someone like that deserved to die without a soul to claim his body,” Mother Zhao said.

“Mother, don’t say that. He is dead now; what use is there in saying such things? At least it will ease Yuanzhu and Yuanbao’s hearts when they are older,” Hongxia replied.

“Enough about that. But Hongxia, I must speak to you about something. You separated from Zhou Dafa all these years ago. What are your plans now? You used to say you feared remarrying because Yuanzhu and Yuanbao were too young to care for. Now they are so grown; you can’t just live like this forever, can you?” Mother Zhao asked.

“Mother, I don’t think about anything else. I plan to earn more money in the next few years. When Yuanzhu is a little older in a couple of years, I’ll find her a good husband. Then I’ll build a house for Yuanbao so he can marry. My life is set this way; why can’t I live like this forever?” Hongxia understood what her mother meant, but she had lived this way for years and felt capable of supporting herself and her two children; there was nothing wrong with it. Moreover, now that the children were older, she had even fewer other aspirations.