Chapter 65

In her sleep, Guihua turned over, and Mingdong groggily moved closer to hug her. The weight of his heavy arm pressing down woke her up. She opened her eyes and saw that it was already bright outside. Quickly sitting up, she glanced at the alarm clock on the box—7:30 AM.

“Oh no, I overslept.” Guihua hurriedly crawled out from under the covers, grabbing the clothes Mingdong had tossed around last night and putting them on piece by piece.

The sound of her dressing woke Mingdong, who drowsily opened his eyes. He reached out, wrapped an arm around Guihua’s waist, and rested his face on her leg, his voice husky as he asked, “Why are you up so early?”

“It’s not early anymore, it’s already 7:30. Roubao and Doubao must have been awake for a while.” Guihua finished dressing and patted Mingdong’s hand. “Let go of me, I need to go check on the kids.”

Just as she spoke, there was a knock on the door, followed by Roubao’s aggrieved little voice: “Daddy, Mommy, are you awake yet? The sun’s already shining on your butts!”

“We’re up!” Guihua quickly responded, then firmly patted Mingdong’s arm, signaling him to let go. But he just held onto her waist, laughing muffledly against her. Guihua had no choice but to ruffle his hair and coax him softly, “Stop messing around, the kids are waiting.”

Seeing that Mingdong still wasn’t moving, she lowered her voice and whispered, “Tonight, tonight. Not now.”

Mingdong’s eyes immediately snapped open, filled with anticipation. “The position we talked about last night?”

Guihua’s face flushed red. She pinched his arm and scolded, “Get up already, stop fooling around.”

“Is that a yes or no?” Mingdong nuzzled against her leg, his voice carrying a hint of playful pleading. Guihua got goosebumps from his teasing tone. Looking at his hopeful expression, she felt both embarrassed and annoyed, but eventually, she gave a small nod. “Just this once.”

Mingdong let out a small triumphant cheer and sat up to kiss her on the cheek. “One time and you’ll see how good it is. I bet you’ll be asking for a second round next time.” Seeing Guihua’s raised hand, ready to swat him, he quickly dodged and casually started getting dressed. “Alright, alright, getting up now. I’ll take my wife to buy some Snowflake Cream later.”

Guihua chuckled as she climbed off the kang, gathering the scattered bits of paper from the floor and tossing them into the hearth. The remaining embers caught the paper, igniting it.

As she opened the door, Roubao and Doubao immediately pounced into her arms, wrapping their small arms tightly around her waist. Their identical little faces were full of irritation and disapproval.

“You said you’d wake up early.”

“Doubao was already up, but Mommy wasn’t.”

“Sleeping in is bad behavior!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Mommy overslept.” With two little “meatballs” clinging to her, Guihua struggled to move over to the washbasin stand, washing her hands before lifting the boys up. “Mommy will make breakfast now. What do you want to eat?”

Doubao put a finger to his lips, his eyes sparkling. “I want noodles. We haven’t had noodles in a long time.”

There was still some flour left from Beicha, just enough for a meal. Guihua stroked her youngest son’s chubby cheek and smiled. “Alright, we’ll have noodles this morning.”

Roubao and Doubao cheered and ran off to the east room to wake Mingdong. He had just put on his thermal underwear and pants, not even his cotton jacket yet, when the two boys climbed onto the kang and tackled him.

Mingdong quickly grabbed his glasses and set them on the windowsill before flipping his sons over onto the bed. He tickled their armpits, making Roubao and Doubao laugh uncontrollably. The three of them rolled around on the kang, tangled in a playful wrestling match.

Meanwhile, Guihua skillfully kneaded and rolled out the dough. Soon, the noodles were boiling in the pot. Since there was only one egg left in the house, she didn’t make poached eggs but instead beat it and poured it directly into the broth, creating egg-drop noodles. By the time the steaming hot noodles were ready, Mingdong and the boys had washed up and were sitting at the table.

Each person got a bowl. Roubao and Doubao, focused entirely on their food, ate with their heads down, their noodles coated with fluffy strands of egg.

Unlike Beicha, Anbei had both rural areas and farms. Even the agricultural college itself was in a remote location, and it took 40 to 50 minutes to walk to town. Doubao was too young to walk such a long distance, and even Roubao might struggle.

Mingdong pulled out a sled he had welded for the boys, placing a wooden board on top. Roubao and Doubao gleefully climbed onto it.

By now, it was nearly the twelfth lunar month, and thick snow blanketed Anbei. Mingdong and Guihua each took hold of a rope, pulling their sons along as they walked toward town. The main road to town was well-traveled, with occasional horse-drawn carts passing by, making the snow-packed surface smooth and easy to slide on. They barely had to exert any effort to pull the sled. In fact, whenever the road was clear, they even played around, tilting the sled from side to side, making Roubao and Doubao clap and cheer.

Anbei’s small town wasn’t big, and there was only one supply and marketing cooperative. Mingdong tied the sled to a roadside tree before leading the family inside.

People were still honest and considerate in this era. If someone left something outside, others would keep an eye on it. Besides, sleds were common—every household had one, so they weren’t anything rare.

Since the agricultural college had just started winter break, most of the customers at the cooperative were familiar faces—teachers and students stocking up on supplies before heading home. The small store was packed.

Guihua picked up Doubao, while Mingdong hoisted Roubao onto his shoulders. They navigated through the crowd, the two boys’ heads swiveling excitedly, their eyes darting around as they tried to take in everything at once.

Mingdong, sweating from being jostled, quickly bought a jar of Snowflake Cream and a pair of corduroy cotton shoes for Wang Sufen before making a swift exit with his family.

Doubao pouted. “But we didn’t get to look around yet.”

Mingdong wiped the sweat from his forehead. “We can’t stay in there—it’s so crowded my shoes nearly fell off! Let’s just get what we need back in Beicha instead.”

Guihua nodded, crouching to adjust Doubao’s hat and scarf while coaxing him, “Let’s check out the grain store. If they’re selling sesame seed flatbreads today, we’ll buy one for you to try.”

Roubao and Doubao immediately nodded, abandoning their sled in fear that they would arrive too late and miss out. The grain store in Anbei had only started selling sesame flatbreads in the past two months, and they weren’t available every day—only every few days, with just forty or fifty made each time.

Each flatbread cost five cents and required a grain coupon, so farmers rarely bought them, finding them too expensive and not filling enough. Only families with fewer children or dual-income households with more financial flexibility would occasionally buy one as a treat for their kids.

When Mingdong first started as a teacher after graduating, his salary was fifty-six yuan. Last year, when he was sent for labor reform at the Anbei farm, he had no income. However, after the establishment of the Workers, Peasants, and Soldiers University, he continued teaching, and the school reinstated his previous salary. Meanwhile, Guihua had only started working in the past two months.

With more and more teachers at Anbei Agricultural College bringing their families, the campus was full of children. To prevent distractions during lessons, the school allocated a few rooms and a courtyard to establish a daycare and preschool.

Guihua was young, attractive, and smart, catching the school’s eye immediately during recruitment. They directly assigned her to work at the kindergarten, where she mainly cared for children while a housekeeper handled cooking. Her salary was fourteen yuan per month.

Mingdong and Guihua earned a decent income and had only two children, making their financial burden light. Both enjoyed buying little treats now and then to make their kids happy.

Since it wasn’t a rationed supply day, there weren’t many people at the grain store. While Guihua lined up with the kids, Mingdong peeked ahead and saw that in addition to sesame flatbreads, the store was also selling “lu bazi.”

Lu bazi referred to deep-fried pastries shaped like the iron grate inside a stove where ashes collected. Made entirely of refined white flour and fried in oil, it was considered a luxury in this era of scarce fats and oils. However, because it required a lot of oil and white flour, it was expensive—one piece cost ten cents.

Some people were willing to buy the sesame flatbreads, but even fewer splurged on lu bazi. The high price was one reason, but more importantly, it wasn’t filling. Despite its delicious taste, a ten-cent piece hardly staved off hunger.

Doubao sniffed the air, catching the scent of fried oil, and swallowed his saliva. “Mom, it smells so good!”

“You haven’t even tasted it yet. How do you know it’s good?” Guihua laughed, bouncing Doubao in her arms before turning to Mingdong. “We just had breakfast, so we’re not too hungry. Why don’t we get one for each of them?”

“Alright, let’s buy two—one for each of them and one for us to share. We can all have a taste.” Mingdong pulled out some money and grain coupons from his pocket and handed them over. “‘Criticize selfishness, fight revisionism.’ Comrade, I’d like two lu bazi.”

The clerk took the money and coupons, then handed over two paper bags after a moment. “‘Serve the people.’ Comrade, please take them.”

Mingdong accepted the pastries and looked around for a spot sheltered from the wind. A store worker called out, “If you want to eat them hot, you can go to the empty room next door. We’re not selling grain today, so there’s nothing inside.”

Mingdong quickly thanked them and led his wife and children into the vacant room.

The lu bazi were freshly fried and still hot to the touch. Mingdong handed one to Guihua, who held it up to Roubao’s mouth. After he took a bite, she passed it to Doubao. Watching his wife and sons, Mingdong’s eyes were full of warmth. He peeled back the paper on his own pastry and held it up to Guihua’s mouth. She took a bite and smiled at him. “Smells amazing.”

Doubao looked at his parents and suddenly burst out laughing. “Mom feeds me and Brother, and Dad feeds Mom. That’s so funny!”

Guihua playfully scolded him while pressing the pastry to Roubao’s mouth. “Eat your lu bazi and stop chattering.”

—

Grandma Li estimated that Mingdong and Guihua would be back soon. A couple of days ago, she had already lit the kang bed and stove in the back room, knowing they wouldn’t be bringing bedding. She took out the old quilts, which had been washed and dried, and spread them on the heated bed in advance. Within two days, they were thoroughly warm.

Mingdong and Guihua, carrying their bags and children, got off the train. After walking toward home for about ten minutes, a large cart passed by. Hearing the sound of horse hooves, Mingdong turned to look and saw it was their neighbor, Old Chen. He immediately called out, “Uncle Chen, where are you headed?”

Old Chen turned his head, saw Mingdong, and quickly pulled on the reins. “Mingdong! Are you on holiday? Get your wife and kids on the cart—I’ll give you a ride home.”

Mingdong gladly accepted, helping Guihua up first, then lifting both sons onto the cart. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and handed two to Old Chen.

Old Chen was delighted, tucking one behind his ear and lighting the other. Mingdong struck a match to help him light up before climbing onto the cart himself.

Old Chen’s and Old Li’s families lived close to each other, under the same neighborhood jurisdiction. As he drove the cart, he chatted with Mingdong. “Did your family write to tell you about Mingnan’s wedding? I heard he’s marrying a girl from the Hydrolysis Plant—she’s really good-looking.”

Mingdong grinned and nodded. “Mingnan wrote to me. He said the house is already built, and once they finish the furniture, they’ll hold the wedding next year when it’s warmer. Uncle Chen, you’ve got to bring my brothers over for the banquet!”

“Of course!” Old Chen chuckled. “I watched you boys grow up. You’re practically my own kids. My whole family will be there.”

Mingdong smiled and asked about Old Chen’s children. “I heard your second son graduated last year. Where’s he working?”

“He hasn’t been able to get a job since graduating. Last month, the neighborhood assigned my eldest to the business office, while the younger ones were sent to the youth labor brigade.” Old Chen sighed. “At least it’s not too far—they’re at the Sixth Battalion production team and can come home once a month.” He took a couple of puffs from his cigarette, blew a smoke ring, and glanced at Mingdong. “Your younger brother, Mingbei, was also assigned to a labor team. But he didn’t go to the grain storage brigade—he went with the Hydrolysis Plant team. He’s carrying logs and planting trees.”

Mingdong hadn’t heard this news before and quickly asked for more details.

Chatting along the way, by the time Ming Dong arrived home, he had learned almost everything about the family. Uncle Chen parked the carriage at the entrance of the Old Li family’s house, and Ming Dong helped his wife and children down before handing Uncle Chen a cigarette.

“Uncle Chen, thanks a lot! Come over for a drink sometime.”

“Sure!” Uncle Chen agreed cheerfully. He watched Ming Dong and his family enter the house before driving the carriage back home.

“Great-grandma, Grandma, Auntie, we’re back!”

As soon as Guihua pushed open the door, Roubao and Doubao dashed inside, running straight to the kitchen and giving Wang Sufen a firm hug.

Seeing her two chubby grandsons clinging to her, Wang Sufen was overjoyed. “Oh, my precious ones are back!” She hugged one in each arm, her face full of delight. When she saw Ming Dong and Guihua following in, she smiled even more. “Why didn’t you tell us in advance? Your dad could have borrowed a big cart to pick you up.”

Ming Dong grinned. “I ran into Uncle Chen as soon as we left, so it wasn’t a hassle.”

Hearing the commotion, Grandma Li and Zhenzhen also came out from inside. The two little buns immediately let go of Wang Sufen and rushed toward Zhenzhen.

“Auntie, Auntie, I missed you so much!”

Although they called her Auntie, Zhenzhen was only two years older than them. After greeting Grandma Li, Zhenzhen took them to wash up and change their clothes. Then, she fetched a bag of biscuits from her room. These were from a shopping mall in the capital, made with milk powder and sugar—crispy and fragrant with each bite.

The two little ones ate until their mouths were full, and Roubao even made sure to share, stuffing biscuits into everyone’s hands. Grandma Li chuckled, pinching Roubao’s chubby cheek. “Using your auntie’s things to play the generous one, huh?”

With the whole family reunited, dinner had to be a feast. Wang Sufen went to the yard and brought back a slab of pork belly and some venison. Once inside, she asked Zhenzhen, “How should we cook the meat tonight?”

Zhenzhen always had plenty of ideas when it came to food, and her suggestions were always delicious. If it were up to her, slicing and grilling the meat would bring out the best flavor. But since grilled meat might be too heavy for the kids, she suggested, “How about we braise it with potatoes and carrots? That would go perfectly with rice.”

Hearing this, Guihua immediately got up. “I’ll go make the rice.”

Wang Sufen shot her a look. “Are you treating me like an outsider? You just got off the train—take a rest. Cooking won’t tire me out. Just sit and chat with your grandma about Anbei. She loves hearing about that place.”

Guihua smiled. “Mom, if it gets too busy, you have to let me help.”

“Alright, alright, I got it,” Wang Sufen responded as she carried the two large pieces of meat outside.

With four people returning home, the house instantly became lively. Grandma Li, smiling, laid out sunflower seeds, oranges, and candy on the kang. If not for the two little ones being fixated on the meat Wang Sufen was preparing, their bellies would have been stuffed full of snacks.

That evening, when Ming Nan came home from work and saw Ming Dong’s family, he was overjoyed. The two brothers pushed the kang tables together and helped Wang Sufen set the dishes.

At the call for dinner, everyone quickly gathered around the table. Grandma Li, Li Muwu, Wang Sufen, Ming Dong, and Ming Nan each had a small cup of liquor in front of them, with two ounces poured for each.

The Old Li family wasn’t strict about dining etiquette. Guihua and the kids served themselves rice first. Ming Dong, savoring the aroma of the rice, curiously asked, “Mom, why does our rice taste so good? And the yield is high too. When I leave, can I take some seeds with me? I want to try growing them in the school’s experimental fields next year to see how they do on the plains over there.”

Wang Sufen instinctively glanced at Zhenzhen, who immediately smiled. “What’s there to discuss? Mom even saved extra seeds this year to cultivate new land next year. I thought that would be too much work, so it’s perfect if big brother takes the extra seeds instead.”

“Exactly!” Wang Sufen added. “Take them if you want, but I can’t guarantee they’ll grow well.”

The family’s crops were cultivated using Zhenzhen’s special abilities, and Wang Sufen was a bit concerned about whether the seeds would grow properly in regular soil. But that worry was unnecessary—after years of being nurtured by supernatural energy, the seeds had already evolved. While the yield increase on regular land might not be dramatic, the taste would be unmatched. After all, Zhenzhen had grown pickier over the years.

Ming Dong laughed. “That’s why I want to plant them in a test field—to research ways to improve yield.”

Grandma Li nodded. “Good idea! If you can increase the yield, that would be a huge contribution. You’d earn merit for sure.”

Ming Dong chuckled. “Merit or not, it’s just part of my job.” Then, he began discussing the best farming methods for their crops.

Returning from Anbei to Beicha, not only did Ming Dong and Guihua feel relaxed, but even the two children were thrilled. In Anbei, Ming Dong and Guihua were busy with work all day, and the kids had to attend daycare and kindergarten, leaving little time to play. But back home, they were finally free to run wild.

Early the next morning, the two little ones dragged Zhenzhen to the big river to play—building snowmen, having snowball fights, and sledding. The three of them moved across the ice as if they were born on it, rarely seen at home.

For the past two years, Zhenzhen had been traveling all over the country, not just bringing back various goods but also collecting antique books and paintings from different procurement stations. Whenever she had time, she sorted them in her storage space, and her Western-style buildings were packed to the brim.

Always preoccupied with salvaging more antiques and ancient books, her mind was constantly racing. Even at night, while her body rested, her consciousness remained alert, inspecting her collections. She had been in a constant state of tension.

Now, playing on the ice with her two little nephews, Zhenzhen suddenly felt a sense of release.

Watching the two boys run off, she lay back on the thick ice, using her hands as a pillow, and squinted at the clear blue sky. Exhaling deeply, she felt utterly relaxed, her entire body at ease.

Roubao slid over from a distance, tossed a snowball right at Zhenzhen’s face, and then turned around to run. Zhenzhen laughed as she wiped the snow off her face, got up from the ice, and threw a snowball right back at him. It hit the back of his head perfectly, and she burst into triumphant laughter.

After going wild all day, the two little boys didn’t want to sleep in the back room at night. One clung to Grandma Li, the other to Wang Sufen, insisting on sleeping in the front room with them.

Mingdong couldn’t be happier—he finally had a few days to relax without being woken up at dawn by these two little troublemakers knocking on his door. Wang Sufen, having been through it all before, could tell exactly what was on her son’s mind. She was speechless but played along, giving him an excuse:

“You two work all the time outside. This is the only month you get to rest properly. Let the kids sleep in the front room, so you don’t have to worry about them. You can sleep in and really relax.”

“Ah, alright!” Mingdong was practically grinning from ear to ear as he grabbed his wife and headed out.

Watching the young couple leave, Wang Sufen suddenly remembered something important and called out, “Oh no! I forgot to put toilet paper in the back room. Mingdong, come back and grab a roll!”

Guìhuā stumbled and almost tripped, while Grandma Li burst into loud laughter.

—

Author’s Note:

Let me share a childhood story about my mom. She used to have a deep grudge against shaobing (baked flatbread), and to this day, she still talks about it.

Back then, my grandpa was an eighth-level worker at the Hydrolysis Plant—apparently a pretty impressive rank. His salary was over 100 yuan, which was a lot at the time. Every payday, my grandma would send 20 yuan back to their hometown, and the rest was for the family’s expenses.

Now, my youngest uncle was a spoiled little foodie. He refused to eat cornbread and would cry every day for shaobing. Since my eldest aunt was in charge of cooking, the job of running errands to buy shaobing always fell on my mom.

Every day, she’d come home from school starving, but she had to stand in line at the grain store to buy shaobing for my uncle. When she finally got home, she’d be so mad that she had to smack him twice before handing over the bread. But my uncle wanted shaobing so badly that he willingly took a beating every day—just to keep eating it.

23333~~~~

—

—”23333″ is an internet slang term in Chinese, commonly used to express laughter. It originated from the ACFun forums, where the number “233” was an emoticon ID representing a laughing face. Over time, people started using “233” (or extending it to “23333” for emphasis) to mean “LOL” or “hahaha” in online conversations.