[The Rural Peddler's Tale of Taming a Woman] (06-08) Author: wushisanqian

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Author: wushisanqian
Words: 7237

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(VI)

Aoshan Village is a secluded mountain village nestled on the mountainside of several interconnected high mountains. "Water and houses"
—a from the highest mountain behind it. Although not large, the stream flows
year-round due to the high mountains, dense forests, and flowing water.

Since the late Ming and early Qing dynasties, an ancestor surnamed Ruan fled famine here, cleared land, built fields, and multiplied. Over several hundred years, the village has
grown to nearly two hundred people with seventy or eighty houses, becoming the largest mountain village in the surrounding dozens of miles.

Aoshan Village has two main roads running horizontally and vertically, with some smaller paths added along the sides. Every household is next to the roadside. Such
a structure is rare in mountain villages. In mountain villages, houses are usually built according to the terrain and against the mountain, without
a unified planning and design.

However, Aoshan Village is different. It is said that their ancestors were carpenters before fleeing famine.
They were skilled in woodworking and used to a life of meticulous craftsmanship. They couldn't stand anything messy or disorganized, so
they made arrangements when building houses for the first few generations. Generation after generation of descendants dared not violate their ancestral teachings, to the point that
everyone developed the habit of building houses along the roadside.

It must be said that the Ruan family ancestors had foresight. Now, if you look down on Aoshan Village from a high place, two main roads
extend to both sides, radiating out from the central intersection. They seem scattered but are not actually dispersed, seemingly clustered but not crowded, with a very impressive
presence .

Now, let's talk about a family in the village. The head of the household is named Songgen, who is forty-eight years old this year. His wife passed away more than
twenty years ago. He has a son and a daughter. His daughter is already married, and his son is also married.

Songgen should be considered a fortunate man. Although his wife left, leaving behind two children, he
raised them single-handedly, both father and mother, until they were both married.

However, since helping his son get married three years ago, he has been burdened with worries and hasn't had a single day of peace. The reason lies
with his son and daughter-in-law.

Songgen's son, Shuye, is twenty-five years old, three years older than his sister Danhua. He has been sensible and diligent since childhood. After his mother left,
he didn't cry and beg for his mother in front of Songgen. Instead, he earnestly reasoned with Danhua, advising her not to envy
others who have mothers.

Not only that, Shuye also helps Songgen manage the household. They raise pigs, chickens, ducks, and rabbits just like everyone
else . During the New Year, when everyone in the village makes sweet cakes and steamed buns,
they are just as busy.

Although their house isn't as tidy as others', it hasn't fallen apart just because their mistress is gone. At home
, it was the same in the fields; she knew how to plow, till, fertilize, transplant rice seedlings, and thresh grain.

But fate is unpredictable. When Shuye was nineteen, an accident occurred, leaving her with a lifelong regret.

That summer, Shuye was plowing the field alone when, for some unknown reason, her usually docile
ox suddenly went berserk, breaking free of its yoke and running wildly across the field, jumping from one field to another
. Shuye tried to whip it with a bamboo stick, but to no avail.

Seeing that the ox was about to run into someone else's field and ruin their crops, Shuye rushed in front of it
to stop it. But the crazed ox not only let Shuye whip it but also charged at her with the bamboo stick,
knocking her upside down. Even worse, the ox stepped on Shuye's genitals, and
with a scream fainted from the pain.

After an unknown amount of time, a passing villager discovered him and, thinking Shuye had fainted from heatstroke, quickly carried
him home.

When Shuye got home, Songgen hadn't returned from the mill where he'd taken rice to be ground, and only Danhua was home cooking
pig feed .

Seeing her brother carried back, pale and covered in cold sweat, Danhua also assumed
it was . Seeing that he wasn't unconscious like others, she was somewhat relieved and took the initiative to
bring a basin of cold water and repeatedly wipe Shuye with a towel.

Shuye, seeing this, knew Danhua had mistaken him for heatstroke. He wanted to tell her the truth, but then thought,
how could he say that? That his penis had been trampled by a cow? Okay, even if he closed his eyes and wasn't afraid to blush, what if she
heard and wanted to pull down his pants to check the injury? His sister, though younger than him, was still sixteen, and
many neighborhood girls were already married at that age.

Thinking this, the leaf's open mouth closed again. It sighed, lay down on the bed, and closed its eyes, thinking that it would be
best to let Danhong misunderstand for now, and explain everything to its father when he returned from the mill.

Meanwhile, Songgen, at the mill, had no idea of the trouble at home. Finally, it was his turn at the mill, but then
the water in the irrigation ditch was insufficient, and the sluice gate had to be closed to store water.

More than an hour had passed by the time the water was stored, and by the time the rice was milled, the sun was only half-hidden on the opposite
mountaintop. The originally scorching sunlight had softened considerably, the parts blocked by the trees on the mountaintop
becoming shadows, while the parts that weren't blocked shone brightly through the gaps in the trees. But to the farmers, no matter
how enchanting it couldn't compare to the allure of the grain in the fields.

Songgen carried one basket of white rice and one basket of rice bran. The white rice basket seemed to be only slightly more than full,
while the rice bran basket was more than half full. However, when he tried to lift it, the rice bran side tilted skyward, while the white rice side remained
firmly . Unable to
do anything else, Songgen pulled the carrying pole towards the rice bran side, shifted his buttocks back slightly, and tried to lift it again. This time, the white rice basket seemed to move slightly, but it still wouldn't budge. Songgen reluctantly
shifted his buttocks back again until he bumped the basket before finally standing up, and this time it was balanced.

In this way, Songgen would sometimes pull himself forward by the rope of the rice bran basket, and sometimes switch shoulders
and hold onto the edge of the white rice basket. The mountain path was winding and twisting. Sometimes a fir tree would grow on the edge of the road ahead, and occasionally
a rock would jut out from behind. Songgen seemed oblivious to these obstacles, as if the basket was about to hit a rock, only to suddenly
sway back, always managing to avoid them unscathed. Fortunately, the journey wasn't far, and
Songgen arrived home in the time it takes for an incense stick to burn.

Danhong was scooping cooked pig feed into a wooden bucket with a gourd ladle when she heard the sound and turned to call out, "Father,
is that you back?"

"Yes," Songgen replied without opening his mouth, letting out a heavy sound from his throat before falling silent. It was
unclear whether this was an answer or a sigh of relief.

Danhong seemed to understand her father's temper well. She put down the pig feed, quickly washed her hands, and reached for a large white porcelain bowl. She poured a
full bowl of snow-white herbal tea and brought it to her father.

Watching her father take the bowl, tilt his head back, gulp it down, and smack his lips, she seemed to have
just and said, "Brother is back too. He collapsed in the field due to heatstroke. Luckily, someone saw him and carried him back.
He's awake now and lying in his own bed."

When Songgen first heard that Shuye had collapsed due to heatstroke, his eyes almost popped out of their sockets with anxiety. Fortunately, Danhong added that
Shuye was already awake, and his eyes shrank back. He glanced at Danhong and went straight to Shuye's room.

Shuye hadn't actually fallen asleep, but then again, it would be strange if he were in so much pain and sweating profusely.
He knew as soon as Songgen stepped through the door. But he couldn't shout, "Dad, my little pecker got
trampled by the cow!" If he did, people would think something good had happened. Besides, Danhong would hear,
so it wouldn't be appropriate.

When Songgen entered the room, Shuye also forced herself to sit up. Seeing that Danhong wasn't following behind, Shuye
groaned, "Ouch, ouch..."

"Ye, you have heatstroke? What happened to you?" Songgen originally asked how she got heatstroke, but before he could finish, he heard
Shuye groaning. He was puzzled; heatstroke usually causes dizziness and shortness of breath, but not pain.

Songgen was wondering when he noticed Shuye groaning while grimacing and squinting at Songgen's back, then looking at him again.

Songgen glanced at Danhua washing the pot, then at Shuye, pointing to the door. Shuye knew her father was
asking if she wanted to close the door, so she nodded slightly.

Full of suspicion, Songgen closed the door and walked to the bedside without asking, just frowning and looking into Shuye's eyes.

Shuye then quietly explained the whole situation, finally letting out a painful "
Ouch .

(VII)

When Songgen heard what Shuye said, he was even more nervous than Shuye was suffering from heatstroke, but he didn't show it. He reached out
to lift the blue floral sheet covering Shuye. Shuye was a little embarrassed and grabbed the sheet to stop
her father from lifting it. Songgen didn't insist or let go. He turned his head and looked at Shuye quietly, but his eyes were
reproachful .

Shuye couldn't stand her father's gaze and lowered her head guiltily. She reluctantly
let go of the sheet.

Songgen was mentally prepared and guessed that it must be more serious, otherwise Shuye, who was always so strong-willed,
wouldn't be lying in bed in pain. But when he saw Shuye's genitals, which were swollen like a ball between her legs, he
couldn't help but sigh and mutter, "My goodness!" No matter how

thick or long a man's penis is, it is normally hidden between his pants. Even if he is in heat and his male erection is
strong , at most it will just make his crotch look like a tent. But Leaf's manhood wasn't erect at all;
his scrotum was swollen to the size of a fully inflated balloon, the skin almost translucent, and his penis was
terribly swollen.

"That damned ox!" Pine Root couldn't help but curse. "How could you be so careless
, stepping on it right here?" After cursing the ox, Pine Root then blamed Leaf.

Pine Root carefully examined Leaf's manhood for a long time, a chill creeping over him. Good heavens, no blood, just
swelling—how could this be?! If there was bleeding, stopping the bleeding wouldn't be a big problem, but now…

Pine Root sighed heavily. He'd never seen anything like this before, and he didn't know if it was treatable.

"How is it? Dad, is it alright?" Leaf asked anxiously, wanting to know his father's thoughts immediately.

"This… it should be fine. I don't see any bleeding." Pine Root knew the problem wasn't so simple,
but he didn't want to say it outright, lest he frighten Leaf.

"How can we treat this? It hurts so much to move!" Hearing that the problem wasn't serious, Shuye immediately urged
her father to think of a treatment.

"Hmm, don't worry, calm down and rest. I'll go find some medicine for you right away," Songgen said, though he didn't really
know any good solutions, he just comforted Shuye.

That evening, only the father and daughter sat at the table. When it was time to eat, Danhua looked up and called for Shuye
to come out and eat. She had just called out "Brother" when Songgen stopped her: "Don't call him, eat by yourself!"

Danhua didn't know what her father meant, but she didn't dare ask again. She stuck out her tongue, pouted, and remained
silent , burying her head in her porridge. She finished several mouthfuls of porridge, forgetting to even pick up a bite of the pickled vegetables.

Songgen also ate with a heavy heart. Usually, they would talk about their work or
funny stories , but now they were all silent. After finishing his dinner, Songgen slammed his bowl and chopsticks on the table and was about to leave when he turned back
to the woodpile behind the stove. He bent down and picked up a stalk of firewood from the pile, trimmed the ends
, and took a small section from the middle. He then put it in his mouth to pick at his teeth. A piece of tough stringy bean curd, which hadn't been completely removed during the pickling
process , was now stuck between Songgen's teeth.

He could reach it with his lick but couldn't pry it out, so he had to use the stalk. Songgen opened his mouth, pinched the stalk between two fingers, and dug and dug.
He felt his saliva increasing, almost dripping down, so he quickly took a deep breath,
deliberately pulling the saliva further away from his mouth.

But the saliva didn't decrease, so Song Gen quickened his pace, unconsciously increasing the pressure on his fingers.
Unexpectedly, the dragon-shaped pole had no resilience whatsoever; with a crisp "crack," the front end tore in
two. Song Gen was annoyed but helpless. He frowned, took out the pole, closed his mouth to gather
the saliva onto his tongue, then spat it out with a "piaji" sound onto the rammed earth in front of him.
He stomped on it, dragging it back and forth a few times. When he stood up again, the phlegm was gone, leaving only
a patch of damp black ground, faintly gleaming under the orange light of the oil lamp.

Song Gen licked his teeth and found the string bean tendon still stubbornly in place, so he pinched off
the torn part of the pole. His mouth wasn't idle either. He coughed forcefully twice,
spitting out a few drops of saliva, but it didn't amount to much, so Songgen ignored it. He pursed his lips
as if trying to squeeze out all the saliva in his mouth, then swallowed it with a jerk of his neck. After clearing his throat, he opened his mouth again and
started digging with the dragon-base pole.

This time, he quickly pulled out the stringy bean. Songgen licked it with his tongue first, and only after confirming it was correct
did he move it to the tip of his tongue and gently spit it out. Because it was so tiny, it barely showed up in the flickering light.
He was nowhere to be seen.

Songgen felt a sense of victory, and a satisfied look appeared on his face. He was about to
walk towards his room when he suddenly remembered Shuye. He opened his mouth to tell Danhua to bring Shuye some porridge, but
he stopped abruptly after calling out "Danhua" and fell silent.

He quickly went to the stove, took a large white porcelain bowl, filled it to the brim with porridge, and
picked out two bamboo chopsticks of roughly the same length from the chopstick holder. He first scraped off
the porridge scoops of pickled cowpeas and a few pieces of dried mustard greens stir-fried with potatoes on top of the porridge, and
went straight to Shuye's room.

It was an ordinary summer night. The cicadas were still chirping in the bitter lily tree by the door, but they
had lost their vigor at noon, and their voices were much softer. Walking along the doorway, one could see many
elderly men with their trousers rolled up, enjoying the cool evening air on their stone thresholds. This was a customary activity after dinner;
people rarely visited each other's homes, preferring to relax in their own doorways.

A slightly balding old man held a palm-leaf fan, fanning himself at varying speeds, then
suddenly slapped his exposed calf with it. A tiny mosquito, having just found a foothold on the hairy
leg , was instantly swatted, its wings and leg severed, lifeless.

The children, however, were less composed. Standing in front of their doors, they looked left and right, and when they spotted a
friend who had also slipped out after dinner, smiles instantly spread across their faces. They
dashed off towards the path between the two, skipping greetings and bursting into play.

But for Songgen, this night was destined to be sleepless. The leaf's genitals were swollen like a fully inflated
balloon, and a solution had to be found.

Early the next morning, pine roots dug up a basket of herbs from a large rock on the hill behind the house—
the best herb they could think of for reducing swelling. They then crushed it in a stone mortar in the main room, placed it in a chipped
tile, and took it to the leaf's room. The leaf was instructed to apply his morning urine to the swollen genitals.

The leaf, however, hadn't slept well all night; his swollen genitals ached, and he could only
lie , unable even to turn to his side. Fortunately, urinating wasn't too painful, otherwise, he would have been suffocated by the urge.
The herbal paste, cool and refreshing, immediately eased the pain.

It must be said that in the isolated countryside, the herbs that villagers invented and discovered for survival
were quite . And it is because of so many wise ancestors that we have thousands of years of splendid civilization.

Following Songgen's instructions, the medicine was applied and the dressing changed every morning and evening. After about a month,
the swelling in Shuye's groin miraculously subsided, and it looked just like before the injury.

(VIII)

Shuye, now healed, was back to her energetic self, working in the fields and on the mountain. No one except her father and son knew that Shuye
had suffered such an injury. Even Danhua thought that her brother had just been seriously ill. Although she had doubts,
her father and brother didn't say anything. Besides, her brother was now laughing and talking as if nothing had happened, so she naturally
kept it to herself.

Life returned to normal, and before she knew it, Shuye was twenty-two years old. Qiulan,
the only took a liking to Shuye, who was hardworking, brave, and thrifty. She insisted that her father ask a matchmaker to come and
propose marriage.

Shuye, who had lost her mother at a young age, didn't show it, but she always felt that her family was not as good as others
. Now that a girl had taken the initiative to propose marriage, she was overjoyed and naturally agreed without hesitation.

Besides, everyone in the village knew Qiulan well. Although she wasn't the prettiest in the village,
she was born into a butcher's family and had eaten more rich food than other children. She had a rosy complexion
and fair skin, and her hands were as smooth as jade. She wasn't tall, but her voice was soft and gentle,
a stark contrast to her butcher father.

Some young men and women in the village were attracted to each other, secretly courting and asking matchmakers to arrange marriages.
But Shuye, like the head of the household, was busy with household chores and had little time for romance. Even if
he fancied a girl, the thought of his own motherlessness made him ashamed and extinguished any further thoughts. Not only him, but Shuye also seemed to have never heard of Qiulan going to the mountains to chop firewood or weeding the cornfield

with any young man . The two young people were willing; their parents might have been unhappy, but ultimately no one intervened. And so, two months later, the two skipped the romantic courtship phase and went straight to their wedding night. On their wedding night, Shuye got completely drunk and didn't get up until noon the next day. Qiulan was slightly displeased but couldn't resist the happiness surrounding her. Seeing her husband get up, she quickly fetched some water for Shuye to wash his face, saying half-amusedly, half-reproachfully, "Look at you, so drunk after just a few cups of rice wine, like you've never been married before." "Yeah, that's right, I've never been married before. You, you've been married before?" Shuye explained at first, but then, realizing the inconsistency in Qiulan's words, he teased her. Qiulan didn't speak, her face flushing red to her ears, her shyness making her even more beautiful and charming. "You're the one who's been married! I'm not talking to you anymore." She then quickly ran back to their bridal chamber. On the third day after their wedding, Qiulan was still in bed, but Shuye quietly pushed open his father Songgen's door early in the morning . The old man was a light sleeper. As soon as Shuye pushed open the door, Songgen knew, but he didn't sit up abruptly. He simply pulled the sheet over himself, turned his neck to look in the direction of the door, and carefully examined Shuye. "Shuye, why are you up so early instead of sleeping?" Songgen asked, puzzled. Normally , newlyweds stay indoors for the first few days, engaging in passionate lovemaking. Neither the man nor the woman had any contact with the opposite sex before marriage; at most, they only thought about it. Especially for mature men and women, even if they experience nocturnal emissions , it's just a natural bodily reaction, not a sexual dream. After marriage, the shyness that enveloped them gradually fades, replaced by an irresistible feeling of sexual desire. In addition, young people recover their strength quickly, so there are always a few days after marriage spent endlessly in the room, as if trying to catch up on missed lessons. Shuye, however, had no idea whether Songgen was thinking about these things. At this moment, he had a million questions in his mind. The leaf tiptoed to the bedside of the pine root and said, "Dad, I want to ask you something."

"What's wrong? Why are you in such a hurry that you can't even sleep?" Actually, Song Gen wanted to say, what could
be more important than discussing his wife's body? But he couldn't say it directly to his son.

"Dad, I just want to ask why I really want to do *that*, but I can't." Shuye was
still shy after all, and some words were too embarrassing to say, so he used "that" and "this" instead.

"What 'that' and 'this'? What can't you do?" Song Gen didn't understand for a moment.

"It's like I really want to hug Cuilan, and I really want to do *that* with her, but I can't
get ." Shuye had no choice but to explain it more clearly.

"You said you really want to do *that* with your wife, but you can't get an erection?" Song Gen panicked when he heard this, and forgot that
it was a father-son conversation, immediately blurting out "do" and "penis.

" "Yes, that's it." Shuye felt that his father finally understood what he meant and his initial
shyness disappeared.

After a long pause, Songgen asked, "Have you never gotten an erection before?"

"A long time ago, I'd get an erection whenever I saw a pretty woman. Later I realized it
was wrong, so I didn't pay attention to when I stopped being able to get one."

Shuye truly believed this. When he was a teenager, seeing pretty women, or in the summer when women wore
revealing clothes, seeing the shadows of their bra straps or the outline of their underwear, would trigger
a flood of fantasies. He didn't know exactly what he was thinking, but his penis would get hard. Later, he felt it was
immoral because those women weren't his; some were even relatives or elders. Then
, he realized that when he had those thoughts, his penis wouldn't erect and embarrass him anymore. He
was happy , feeling he was no longer so immoral.

But he never expected that when he lay on the same wedding bed with his wife, she also couldn't get an erection.
What was going on?

"You said you used to be able to get an erection, but when did it stop?" Songgen was also
confused .

"Yeah, that's how it is. I don't know when it stopped," Shuye replied.

"When did it start?" Songgen asked, knowing full well that Shuye didn't know either.

This time, Shuye didn't answer; he truly couldn't.

Suddenly, Songgen remembered the time Shuye had been stepped on: "Was it after you got injured that year?"

"I don't know, it seems like it started around that time." Hearing her father say this, Shuye felt
it might really be related to the injury.

"Really?! Logically speaking, it was only swollen for a few days, there was no bleeding." Songgen had always thought that bleeding
was definitely more serious than no bleeding.

"I don't know either," Shuye replied.

"Let's see in a few days, maybe it'll be okay again." Songgen actually knew in his heart that if he couldn't even get aroused during their honeymoon
, then the future was uncertain. But how could he tell Shuye? He could only comfort him like this.

[To be continued]

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