“Darling, what’s under the ground?”

“It’s moonlight all over—no, it’s Niulan Mountain.”

“You’re so good at guessing. I can’t do that.”

“Go to sleep. You have a lot of work to do tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

They fell asleep at almost the same time. That often happened.

In the morning, as soon as Mrs. Yi opened her eyes, she said, “Mia’s son is really priceless.”

“Sure he is,” her husband responded, with his eyes still closed.

Outside the window the cuckoo was calling, urgently.

After eating breakfast and tidying up the house, Mrs. Yi went to Aunt Yossi’s home.

As if by a miracle, the cancer cells in Aunt Yossi’s body had recently stopped making trouble. Mrs. Yi had even stopped treating her. Of course the old woman was still weak.

As soon as Mrs. Yi walked into the yard, she heard Ginger’s loud voice: “Mother, you can’t trust the herbal medicine. And not the doctor, either! I’ve been watching your treatment for a long time, and I’ve always thought something was wrong with it—”

“Nonsense!” Aunt Yossi said weakly.

Mrs. Yi hurriedly faked two coughs. Her face was burning.

Aunt Yossi held her hand, and said, “I feel no pain at all today. Oh, thank God, is it because I saved the elm tree?”

Foreboding surged up in Mrs. Yi’s heart.

“My daughter-in-law doesn’t think clearly. She didn’t know what she was talking about. She’s embarrassed and went to hide. You don’t mind, my dear, do you?”

“Of course not. Ginger is a strong woman. She takes good care of you. How kind she is! I appreciate her very much.”

“My day is coming soon.”

“Yes. You may rest assured that I will take care of everything.”

“I trust you 120 percent. It’s amazing that I feel no pain at the last moment. Maybe it’s the magic of those herbs. I’m going to give you that lean-to to store herbs, and Ginger agreed. I’ve put it in writing. Oh, how comfortable I feel . . . My dear niece, give me a hug. I’m going to close my eyes now. On the other side of the bridge are the mountains. All the people from my old home are coming. I can’t see them clearly, but I can smell them. My home village produces mugwort, and they all smell of mugwort. Son, are you here, too? Take my hand . . . This is Mrs. Yi.”

Aunt Yossi passed away contentedly in Mrs. Yi’s arms.

Weeping uncontrollably, Ginger told everyone who came to the house of her mother-in-law’s virtues.

“She was an indomitable woman, not even afraid of death . . . I’ve never seen anyone like her. My heart died with her—what can I do?”

She wailed loudly, making everyone nervous. Finally, her husband had had enough and dragged her away.

Mrs. Yi looked at Aunt Yossi dressed in her burial clothes. For a moment, the old woman opened her eyes and made a face, then closed her eyes again. The room felt creepy. Ginger, of course, was showing her devotion to her mother-in-law, but to Mrs. Yi there was always a hidden meaning in Ginger’s words. Was this connected with the lean-to that Aunt Yossi gave her? Ginger’s incoherent complaints terrified Mrs. Yi, and she almost fainted. Luckily her husband caught her.