Chapter 90: Can I Make a Request?

Zhou Yimin packed up the corn cakes and scooped the stewed potatoes and goose into a basin, leaving behind only some broth along with a few pieces of potato and meat.

There wasn’t much of the meat and potatoes left.

As usual, Zhou Zhiming and the others each filled a bowl of rice, then ladled a spoonful of broth over it, added a few potato chunks and two pieces of goose meat.

Even so, they ended up with oily lips and satisfied smiles, hoping days like these would never end.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t eaten meat before, but nothing compared to what Zhou Yimin cooked. They couldn’t help thinking—those fancy restaurant dishes? Probably just about the same.

“Uncle Sixteen could make a fine living as a cook, even if he weren’t a procurement officer.”

“Yeah! This tastes better than the stuff at restaurants.”

“You say that like you’ve actually eaten at a restaurant.”

…

Inside the house, the siblings Laicai and Laifang were too focused on eating to even bother talking.

Third Uncle Zhou Xuqing was the same—he even chewed through some bones and didn’t spit them out. Goose bones were thin, light, and hard—likely even the village dogs would turn their noses up at them.

He also had a couple of small cups of sweet potato liquor.

That liquor had once been the old man’s prized stash, but most of it had ended up in his cup.

Now that the old man had better wine—courtesy of Zhou Yimin—he no longer cared much for the sweet potato stuff. It had gone from being “Little Sweetie” to “Madam Ox.”

Zhou Yimin picked out the tender goose meat and gave it to his grandparents, urging them to eat more.

Laifu ate at school, so no one called him back for this meal.

Since he was in school, they figured there was no need for special treatment. Of course, they still set some aside for him to eat when he got home after class.

Every time they had something this delicious, Third Aunt made sure not to take extra. Kids eating more—people wouldn’t say anything, but grown-ups had to maintain some dignity.

To be honest, just having corn cakes to eat already made her content—she was living far better than most village women.

Zhou Yimin had tried persuading her a few times before, but now he let her be.

Not long after she started eating, Qianqian started fussing. Third Aunt had to put down her bowl and go change her diaper.

There were diapers available in the mental shop, but Zhou Yimin didn’t dare take any out—best to leave things be. It was a bit inconvenient for Third Aunt, but from the looks of her, she was used to the constant busyness.

After everyone had eaten, there was still plenty left over.

Zhou Yimin didn’t have much of an appetite to begin with, and the siblings Laifang and Laicai were just kids. As for the grandparents, Third Uncle, and Third Aunt, they had all held back on purpose.

Otherwise, how could a ten-pound goose not get finished?

So, the leftovers were set aside for dinner.

In truth, for the old couple, days like this already felt like a taste of paradise. They didn’t expect to have meat at every meal.

After cleaning up the dishes, it wasn’t long before the elderly folks of the village started showing up to listen to the radio. Entertainment options in the village were scarce to begin with.

Now that there was a radio, it brought a bit of spiritual nourishment to their dull daily lives.

To avoid disturbing their grandson’s afternoon nap, the old man and his wife carried the radio outside to sit beneath the jujube tree. Naturally, no one objected.

Zhou Yimin woke up around three. He strolled around the village and eavesdropped on a lesson at the school.

Back then, students didn’t dare zone out in class—teachers would smack your hands.

Complaining to your parents was useless too—you might even get a worse beating at home.

“Yimin, if possible, could you bring back some used textbooks from the city?” Principal Zhou Zhigao asked.

The number of kids being sent to school had exceeded his expectations, and they didn’t have enough textbooks. Some kids were sharing a single copy. He’d asked around at the school in the Hongxing Commune yesterday, but they didn’t have any extras either.

So, he had to turn to Zhou Yimin for help.

Zhou Yimin nodded. “Sure. What grade levels? Which edition?”

He could just go back to the siheyuan and gather a stack. The only issue was whether the editions would match.

Even though the textbook versions weren’t as varied as in later generations—where even schools in the same city might use different ones—there was still a chance the ones he picked up would be outdated. Better to ask in advance.

Zhou Zhigao handed over his own copy. “Take a look.”

Zhou Yimin flipped through a few pages.

He had to admit, textbooks from this era were genuinely excellent—especially the illustrations. They were beautifully drawn and suited Chinese aesthetics perfectly.

Then again, it made sense. These were sensitive times. No one dared tamper with textbooks. If caught, the consequences weren’t just a slap on the wrist—you could end up eating peanuts (i.e., bullets).

For example, if a Japanese flag appeared in a textbook—no big deal in the future, but nowadays?

After a moment’s thought, Zhou Yimin said, “I’ll just gather some for each grade. Anything else you need?”

He also planned to bring a solar stove for the school, along with some thermoses. He had just noticed that the whole school only had one thermos—and it had been brought from home by Teacher Gao.

“Nothing else for now.”

After making the request, Zhou Zhigao hurried back to the classroom. Normally rowdy kids had become obedient little angels at school. No one dared act up.

The teachers disciplined every troublemaker.

Dang dang dang…

Class was over.

Zhigao’s daughter knocked the makeshift school bell—actually just a slab of metal hung by the “office” door.

“Uncle Sixteen, have some hot water.” The girl, Xiaolan, brought over a cup.

She was very grateful to Zhou Yimin.

Yesterday, a previous suitor had returned. Upon hearing that Xiaolan was now a teacher, he became even more eager and even upped the bride price. But her family had declined, politely.

“Thanks.” Zhou Yimin accepted the cup without a second thought. No need to make her think he was being picky.

“Uncle Sixteen, can I make a request?”

Zhou Yimin paused. So the hot water wasn’t just a simple thank-you after all.

“Go ahead,” he said. He didn’t mind.

“Could you bring back some old clothes? Some of the students don’t even have a spare pair of pants,” said Xiaolan.

If they had old clothes, she could patch them up and make them wearable. One little boy had only one pair of pants, and while playing today, he tore a big hole and started crying.

He cried partly because it was his only pair—and partly out of fear of getting beaten at home.

In the end, she was the one who sewed them back up.

“Sure. The day after tomorrow, alright? I might not come back tomorrow.”

How could Zhou Yimin turn down a request like that?

Later, he saw Zhou Zhigao using the short recess to give haircuts to some of the boys with longer hair. Zhou Yimin had to admire him—being a rural teacher was no easy task.

One mended clothes, the other cut hair. They really did act like both father and mother to these kids.

By evening, Zhou Yimin cooked dinner early for his grandparents. Then he loaded up his bicycle and set off with his grandmother for Hongxing Commune. Since there was an elderly person riding on the back, he pedaled slowly and asked her to hold on tight.

He’d even padded the seat in the back.

His grandma was overjoyed.

(End of Chapter)