“It’s hard to say. In short, everything is plump here.”

“Plump?”

“Yes.” He went on, “My real name is hard to remember. You may call me Peach.”

“Peach. That’s a nice name. There are some things which only outsiders can see clearly.”

Widow Liang didn’t expect to make friends with Peach. That day, a long time after Peach had walked far away, she kept thinking: she and Liang Shan had struggled with hardships ever since they had married, and now Liang Shan had gone. Was this life “plump”? The more deeply she thought about what Peach said, the more it made sense to her. Everything that related to her late husband was still everywhere around her and Songbao, and around the Yun villagers, too. She and the other villagers felt it in silence, and she still talked to him in the dark. Wasn’t this the plump life? If Liang Shan were still here, he’d be content. There was no improved variety of sweet potatoes in the past; now there was. Liang Shan would have been elated.

Now, in the middle of the night, Widow Liang also began to talk to Peach: “Peach, do you think I should remarry?” She knew the answer, because Peach understood her, and he also knew Yun Village. It was as if God had sent him to replace Liang Shan.

He looked again at her hands as she worked at the fireplace.

“Are they ugly?” she asked.

“No, they’re beautiful. I’m fascinated by them.”

She cried softly.

“Let’s get married.”

“Okay, we’ll get married.”

Widow Liang’s house was reroofed. Friends and relatives came to celebrate the wedding.

Tauber was used to drifting in the mountains and in the village. He didn’t feel that being without a real body was a big handicap, because he could always imagine himself with a body. Wandering around in the familiar friendly environment, he would sometimes come across Mrs. Yi. That explained his behavior. He’d had a crush on her for a long time. He knew he would never say anything about his secret love, so there was nothing wrong with it. After all, he had carried this love to the grave. Who could be jealous of a dead man?

Now Tauber entered the village joyfully. He was going to examine all the details of Yun Village which he had overlooked in his rushed and rough old days. The day had just dawned, and the villagers had not yet gotten up, but Grandma Mao’s big gray horse unexpectedly came out alone for a walk. The horse was astonished at seeing Tauber, and stopped in the middle of the road. Tauber thought, This gray horse really knows human nature, for it noticed that I was different from the people in the village. He tried to get close enough to touch the horse, but it turned and trotted back to Grandma Mao’s yard. The horse’s wariness did not affect his good mood at all. He thought the animal was wary because it wasn’t yet used to people like him. If it saw him again and again, they would be good friends. Tauber bent down to look at the varied pebbles on the ground. How elegant the stones were. Year after year, they kissed the feet of the people in Yun Village. They were endlessly communicating with people in silence, endlessly compassionate. Look closely: each stone actually had one expression—the profound expression of an eyewitness to history. Tauber discovered one pure white stone which was especially like Mrs. Yi. He couldn’t help crouching down: he wanted to talk with it.