Every grain of rice reflects virtue of hard labor along life's path

One evening in May, while spending a summer break at my in-laws' home in their village in Zhejiang province, I returned from a walk to discover a dusty brown water ox tied to a tree just outside the gate of the house.

It stood perfectly parallel to the road, much like a parked vehicle, apart from grazing on the grass at its hooves, and eyeing me with a stony gaze that suggested I best keep my distance.

The ox signaled to me, long before I entered the house, that we would be having dinner that evening with a distant relative long appointed as my husband's godfather, a man I simply referred to as "uncle".