Chapter 66 – Save That Cigarette Box for Me

Teacher Wang knew Zhou Yimin well—he was the kind of man who, once fed, had no family to worry about. Plus, with a job as a procurement officer, he was hardly short on food.

“Take it! Consider it a student’s token of gratitude.”

“Alright!” Teacher Wang replied, visibly pleased.

Especially because Zhou Yimin had openly admitted to being his student—those words filled him with pride.

From now on, no one could say he was the only one shamelessly boasting.

When he got home, he plunked the bottle of peanut oil onto the table and showed off to his family: “Look, my student Yimin gave me this.”

“Oh! Peanut oil. Dear, Yimin really is a good student, still remembers you,” his wife said as she picked up the bottle, absolutely delighted.

She remembered Zhou Yimin from the yard next door—he’d even come over for a meal once. Back then, he was still in elementary school, and times weren’t as tough as they had been these past couple of years.

Lately, Yimin had even made it into the newspaper. It wasn’t just the neighboring courtyard buzzing about him—the subdistrict office was promoting him loudly. Who didn’t know his name by now?

“I taught him for three years, after all. Put the oil somewhere safe—don’t let the rats steal it,” Teacher Wang said.

His wife and children were speechless.

Given the state of their home, any rats that came would probably leave crying.

Since a couple of years ago, with the nationwide Four Pests Campaign, rats had become a rare sight.

The Four Pests were sparrows, rats, flies, and mosquitoes.

Since 1958, the campaign to eliminate them had been carried out with great fervor. The whole nation mobilized. Sparrows had no sky to fly in, rats no earth to burrow into, mosquitoes and flies no future.

From officials to farmers, from elders in their seventies to three-year-old toddlers—everyone had developed a shared sense of mission.

There were even “Four Pests Elimination” oath-taking rallies, central command units, and loudspeaker trucks parading the streets with dead sparrows and rats to boost morale.

Newspapers, radio, and comics were flooded with Four Pests propaganda, and intellectuals had even created poems, songs, and rhyming talks about it.

Kids and adults dug up rat holes in groups. After catching them, some people would stuff Sichuan pepper into the rats’ behinds to prevent disease transmission. Their tails were strung up and sold.

—

The next day, Zhou Yimin snapped up the daily specials—today it was 100 jin of peanuts and 100 jin of bananas.

Peanuts were nothing worth mentioning.

But bananas—tropical fruits—were nearly impossible for Northerners to get their hands on. With poor transportation and logistics, the exchange of goods between the South and North was difficult, especially for perishables like fruits.

Because of this, crops from the South were rare and precious in the North.

Zhou Yimin also bought three large jars of pagoda candy, enough for every child in the village to have two pieces. In addition, he bought 1,000 jin of potatoes, 800 jin of sorghum, and 800 jin of corn.

He also planned to donate 30 jin of peanut oil to the school.

That would basically make up for the box of official stamps.

In the eyes of people from the future, this kind of trade would seem like outright robbery.

But in the present day, being able to trade for this much? They should be grateful!

Zhou Yimin brought out the tricycle from the factory, borrowed another one, and loaded one with the sacks of sorghum and corn. The other carried the potatoes and peanut oil.

“Not doing anything? Come with me to Zhoujiazhuang.” He called over Luo Dapeng, his strongman.

Luo Dapeng didn’t waste words and nodded. “Let’s go then!”

Last night, he’d gone to the black market and made more than three yuan.

Lately, the cigarettes he smoked were better than his old man’s. Even his older brother came over to bum a smoke. His brother had started feeling a bit envious—his little bro’s smokes were better, pocket money more abundant, and his job easier and more flexible.

“Take this.”

“Huh? Bananas! Yimin, your buddy really has some serious connections!” Luo Dapeng exclaimed in delight.

He wasn’t ashamed to admit it—he had seen bananas before, but never eaten one.

This time, Zhou Yimin gave him five.

“All for me?”

Zhou Yimin nodded. “I’ve saved Youde’s share for him.”

Dapeng happily broke off two and set them aside. He took the other three home to share with his mother. When he came back, he’d eat one himself and use the last one to show off.

“Wait for me.”

Saying that, he slipped home like a thief.

“Ma, look at this. Bet you’ve never had this before?” He pulled out the three bananas like a treasure offering.

His mother’s eyes widened. “Dapeng, where did you get these?”

“Don’t worry about that. Just eat one yourself. Don’t give them all to Weijun and the others,” Dapeng warned.

He brought the bananas mainly for his parents, especially his mother. As for his sister-in-law and nephew, he didn’t care much.

He just didn’t want his mom feeding all the good stuff to her grandkids—that was not what he intended.

His mother couldn’t deny that she was touched.

She doted on her youngest son the most, though everyone said he was the least sensible of the bunch—that it was all her spoiling. Now, seeing him being so filial, she felt comforted and happy.

All those years of love hadn’t been wasted.

“Alright, I understand.”

After he left, she only ate half of one banana, saving the rest for Dapeng’s father. The other two were for Weijun and the others.

When Dapeng saw the goods loaded onto the tricycle, he didn’t ask what it was. He simply stepped onto one and followed Zhou Yimin in single file, heading to Zhoujiazhuang.

Near the village entrance, there always seemed to be someone keeping watch.

Anyone who entered the village was spotted immediately.

When they saw two tricycles rolling in, with Zhou Yimin in front, they figured the school supplies must have arrived. Some people even felt a bit jealous of the kids going to school.

Who in the village didn’t know that the school canteen was going to serve better food than the village one?

This had been decided by Zhou Yimin, and not a single household opposed it.

Who didn’t want their kids to eat better? Oppose it? Hell no. They couldn’t support it fast enough.

“Stop here, let’s have a smoke,” Zhou Yimin said as he pulled out a pack of Zhonghua cigarettes and tossed one to Luo Dapeng.

Dapeng was about to say he had his own, but when he saw it was Zhonghua, he swallowed the words. Zhonghua! He’d never smoked one before.

“Don’t toss that box. Save it for me,” Dapeng shamelessly requested.

Zhou Yimin rolled his eyes and simply tossed him the whole pack.

Dapeng was overjoyed. He counted—five sticks left. He carefully returned the one he’d taken and smoked a Da Qianmen from his own pocket instead.

The village party secretary arrived with others in tow.

“The school kitchen’s not finished yet. Store this in the village canteen’s warehouse for now. Nobody touches it! Anyone dares, I’ll cut off their hand,” the old secretary warned sternly.

1,000 jin of potatoes, 800 jin of sorghum, 800 jin of corn, and 30 jin of peanut oil.

This was enough food to last the school more than three months.

The meals would definitely be better than those in the village canteen—after all, the village only had sweet potatoes and regular potatoes.

“Keep it separate, don’t mix it in,” the brigade leader added.

“Secretary, this is pagoda candy to deworm the kids. You can divide it—should be enough for every kid to have two pieces,” Zhou Yimin said, pointing at the three big jars on the back of the tricycle.

“Good! I’ll handle that.”

Everyone felt deeply moved. Zhou Yimin had really put in effort for the village kids.

(End of Chapter)