From thinking about this problem all day long, Mrs. Yi became a banlangen in her dream, waving slightly in the wind in the herb garden. She firmly believed that banlangen was the good friend of the human body, not only getting rid of viruses but also strengthening the immune system. Another of her favorites was the coralberry. It could bring fevers down rapidly. She also found beauty in the simplicity of its posture. Moved by its bright red beadlike fruit, she sometimes couldn’t bear to pick it. Some of the herbs were transplanted from the mountains to the garden and were difficult to cultivate. In the first year, for example, only a quarter of the dwarf lily turf survived; it was not until the second year that the roots took hold and new leaves grew. The wild one was much more effective than the domestic one. Perhaps they were born to be friends with humans. Wave after wave of joyful reverie swept over Mrs. Yi.

“Hello—someone’s coming to see you!” her husband called from the door.

It was the village accountant’s son, Gray, a sallow eighteen-year-old with thin ears that were almost transparent. His expression was cold.

“What’s wrong?” Mrs. Yi asked solemnly.

“Nothing’s wrong with my body. I’m just bored with life,” he murmured.

“Then don’t come here. I can only treat some diseases. I can’t change your life.”

The boy looked at her sadly, and Mrs. Yi softened.

“Okay, go fertilize the herbs in the garden. Wait, Gray, does your father know you’re here?”

“My father can’t control me, but I think he agreed,” Gray said as he walked out.

A smile rose on Mrs. Yi’s face. She could see what Gray would be like twenty years from now. Would her son Shanbao be like this if he were still alive? Her poor Shanbao had been only a little more than two years old when disease snatched him away in a long, drawn-out process. Mrs. Yi had never again become pregnant.

While she cooked, Mrs. Yi was listening to Gray in the garden. From time to time she walked to the window to look out. Gray was working very hard among the herbs. The sun shone on his face, which was flushed with perspiration, and his expression had relaxed. Mrs. Yi realized that it was only after careful consideration that he had come to her. In the future, he would fill the void left by Shanbao’s departure. Mrs. Yi was a little emotional but more exhilarated: she suddenly now had an assistant, a successor . . . How had Gray been attracted to her work? Today felt like a holiday to Mrs. Yi.

When the meal was almost ready, Gray had already finished his work and disappeared. He had done a good job, and Mrs. Yi had intended to invite him to stay for dinner.

Over dinner, Mr. Yi told his wife that Gray had said he was world-weary.

“ ‘Why don’t you take a look at my wife’s herb garden?’ That’s what I said to him.”