Yunguo/Story
Stories
The Not-So-Blushy Blushberry
At the foot of Zhuxi Mountain, beside the rice paddies, a few water bottles and bamboo baskets lay by the path, left there by villagers who had been working since morning. Only after hours of toil did they finally sit down for a sip of tea.
Someone jocked that most of the baskets held crops or tools, but the Yuns'? Theirs carried their two-year-old granddaughter, Blushberry.
Unlike other grey-furred toddlers, this little one looked, from the moment she was born, like a fluffy sun fallen into the bamboo grove, red and radiant, like ripe fruit on harvest day. A pity though. No matter what anyone tried, she never smiled. The moment a stranger came near, she'd shrink away. And on bad days, she'd burst into loud, panicked wails.
So lately, her grandparents had been carrying her around in a bamboo basket, hoping she'd get used to being around people, some kind of training or exposure or whatever they call it.
But little Blushberry had never budged from the depths of her basket. The Skies Above as their witness all anyone had seen were two fuzzy ears poking out.
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Now, the basket had gone quiet. Perhaps she was asleep. They decided to sneak a peek— It was empty.
Empty?!
Zhuxi Mountain was in an uproar. The chestnut vendor hollered it mid-stir to his costumer. The postman, cooling off in the shade, passed it to the sugsar painting artist. The repairman fixing a bike tire called it out to the passing peddler—
"The Yuns' kid is missing!"
Did it matter if anyone actually knew who the Yun family was? Not a bit. Just spread the word. Nothing could go wrong if everyone helped look. Blushberry—that was the kid who never smiled, the one who burst into tears the moment she saw a stranger.
Gran'mama was at the well in front of the bamboo house, washing mugwort leaves when she caught wind of it. She always boiled them in summer for the little one's bath, to keep the mosquitoes away and keep the rash at bay... "Wait, who did you say was missin'?"
"Told you mah, her grandpa's no good at mindin' kids." Gran'mama grabbed her palm fan and charged down the mountain.
The search party for Blushberry stirred the entire mountain. By the time the sun was about to set, everyone finally let a breath of relief.
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In the rice field, a small hill of green Archiboos tumbled apart, revealing a giggling mudball of a child, clutching an armful of enormous fruits and vegetables.
"That can't be Blushberry, can it? Blushberry never smiles. She just cries when she sees people."
But who else could it be, red as a ripened fuit, like the setting sun through the bamboo grove?
The story spread from one to ten, ten to a hundred, until it became a local legend. They said that they, Yunguo grew herself a heart, right there in the rice field. And no one could explain how.
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