Chapter 62

After deciding on the locations for the youth settlements, the educated youths couldn’t be sent to the countryside right away. The Hydrolysis Plant’s youth points were established along the extension of Beicha’s original red pine forest, all in uninhabited areas. They first had to build houses at the selected sites before the educated youths could move in.

As a state-owned large factory, the Hydrolysis Plant dominated most of Beicha’s urban areas and had ample funds. This time, they not only planned to construct small trains to connect the various youth settlements but also used tractors to deliver a substantial amount of bricks and cement to each site for house construction.

Ming Bei initially thought he could enjoy a few days off after receiving his graduation certificate before heading to the youth settlement. However, all boys his age were sent ahead to help build houses. As a result, he had to leave before dawn every day and return only after dark. Within a week, his round face had thinned considerably from exhaustion.

Growing up, Ming Bei had done far less manual labor than his peers. Before he turned ten, his family only asked him to dig up wild vegetables, carry firewood, or help pick up stray ears of grain during harvest season. The real farming work was handled by Li Mu and Wu’s couple.

After Zhenzhen was born and began using her special abilities to cultivate crops, every planting season, Grandma Li and Wang Sufen would find excuses to keep Guihua at home—cooking, cleaning, and taking care of the children—to prevent her from noticing anything unusual. When it was time to harvest, Zhenzhen would simply wave her hand, and potatoes and cabbages would surface from the soil on their own, while wheat, sorghum, and rice would fall neatly to the ground. Only then would Grandma Li let the family help carry the grain down from the mountain.

Despite the heavy workload during harvest season, Grandma Li ensured the family ate well to keep up their strength. Every meal featured large, fluffy steamed buns, with wild chickens, rabbits, and river fish prepared in various ways. By the end of the harvest, instead of losing weight, the family would often gain a couple of pounds.

During these times, many families couldn’t even afford white steamed buns. Some struggled to have enough to eat, reserving pure cornmeal pancakes for special occasions. Daily meals often contained a mix of sweet potato flour, making the steamed bread dry and dense. It was a bit rough on the throat but kept hunger at bay. The monthly ration of refined grains was so limited that only the children or elderly in a household would get a taste. For boys like Ming Bei, tasting white flour was a rare event, usually reserved for the New Year.

The Li family had good food, and the boys all grew tall with hearty appetites. Since Ming Bei attended school in Beicha, he usually ate breakfast and dinner at home and packed a large aluminum lunchbox for midday meals, rarely eating outside. But now, working at the youth settlement, he finally experienced hardship. From dawn till dusk, he worked non-stop in the biting cold. At lunchtime, he huddled around a large pot with the other workers, shivering in the wind as they forced down hardened, cold sweet potato bread.

Ming Bei hadn’t eaten such dry rations since the early years of the natural disaster period. After seven or eight years, trying to swallow them again was almost unbearable. Since the houses weren’t finished yet, there was no place to boil water. A makeshift stove with an iron pot had been set up temporarily for cooking, but Ming Bei had no choice but to grab a handful of clean snow, stuffing it into his mouth to wash down the dry sweet potato bread.

Every evening when he got home, Ming Bei devoured half a pot of cornbread. If there were a few pieces of meat in the dish, he would even drink all the broth. Wang Sufen felt bad seeing her son so hungry and hearing that he wasn’t eating well at noon. After everyone had gone to bed, she sneaked into Grandma Li’s room to discuss whether they could send him some food.

Grandma Li flatly refused. Sitting on the small heated brick bed in the east room, she lowered her voice and said, “Do you really not know why our family has had good days? It’s not just other families struggling—don’t you know what Mulin’s family is eating? Our family has had it easier these past years, so we’ve been spoiling the boys too much. But look at Ming Bei—he’s already eighteen! Does he even act like a grown man?”

Seeing that Wang Sufen had stopped crying, Grandma Li took a deep drag from her tobacco pipe and continued, “Honestly, I think this going to the countryside thing is a good experience. It’s not too far from home, so we can still see him once a month or so. He’ll also get to experience real hardship and learn what life is like outside. Right now, our family doesn’t worry about food and drink because of Zhenzhen. But can we rely on her forever? The boys can’t know about her abilities.”

She picked up her tea mug from the bedside, took a sip, and added, “Ming Nan and Ming Bei are at the age to get married. Soon, the farming work will fall to them. Zhenzhen might be able to increase the harvest, but plowing and planting still have to be done by them. If he doesn’t learn to endure hardship now, how will he live in the future? Even Ming Nan—next year, when it’s time to plant, he’ll have to till the land in his own yard himself. None of us should help him.”

Wang Sufen nodded and handed Grandma Li some more tobacco leaves. “You’re right, Mom. I’ve been spoiling them too much over the years.”

Grandma Li sighed and shook her head slowly. “It’s not just you. I’ve spoiled them too. The natural disaster years were so harsh that once life got better, we couldn’t bear to see the kids suffer. But I never expected Ming Bei to be so clueless—he actually traded his brand-new fountain pen for a shabby seat! That pen was a gift from Ming Dong, bought with his first month’s salary. It makes me so mad!” The more she spoke, the angrier she got. “If he weren’t already exhausted these days, I’d be giving him a good beating three times a day.”

Wang Sufen was also furious at the thought. “Exactly! Sometimes, Ming Bei is just too thoughtless. He’s only two years younger than Ming Nan, but Ming Nan is so much more mature.”

“Even though he’s only two years older, Ming Nan acts like a proper big brother.” Grandma Li’s expression softened slightly as she spoke about Ming Nan. “Once he gets married next year, we won’t have to worry about him anymore. But Ming Bei…” She frowned slightly. “I’ve been thinking—maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to delay his marriage for a couple more years. Let him go through more hardships and learn what life is really about. Right now, he’s way too spoiled. Just look at Zhang Defu’s family—those kids have been spoiled rotten. We can’t let our boys turn out like that.”

Wang Sufen shuddered at the thought of Zhang Defu’s shameless behavior and quickly nodded. “Mother is right, I’ll listen to you.”

—

There were professional bricklayers helping to build the Youth Settlement, but the young men in Mingbei’s group were strong enough to contribute as well. They carried baskets of bricks and sifted sand during breaks. After a full month of hard work, the twelve houses of the Youth Settlement were finally completed, thanks to the efforts of the educated youth.

The Youth Settlement consisted of seven large houses. Two connected rooms in the center served as the kitchen, while three rooms on the east side were designated for male educated youths, and two on the west for females. Each room contained large communal heated brick beds (kang) running north to south. Every room had its own door, and none were interconnected.

Once the houses were ready, the Hydrolysis Plant arranged large carts to transport the educated youth to the settlement. Wang Sufen gritted her teeth and refused to pack any food for Mingbei, only preparing a thick quilt, a water jug, a lunchbox, an enamel washbasin, and other daily necessities for him.

During the house construction, Mingbei and the others had gathered a good amount of firewood. Now, it was put to use as the educated youth quickly chopped it up and lit the stoves and kangs. Most of these youths were children of Hydrolysis Plant workers and had attended high school together for three years, so they were already very familiar with one another. Before housing assignments were officially made, they rushed to claim their preferred sleeping spots based on personal habits, laying down their bedding. Each communal kang accommodated ten people, and with the large beds spanning north and south, up to twenty people shared a room. None of them had ever slept on such a massive shared bed before, and they were all thrilled by the novelty of it.

The person in charge of managing this Youth Settlement was Li Mengwei, an employee from the Hydrolysis Plant’s office. He went from room to room for inspection. Seeing that, although the youths had chosen their own sleeping spots, they all seemed happy with no apparent conflicts, he decided to let them be.

When he reached the girls’ side, Li Mengwei gathered all forty female educated youths and asked, “Who here is good at cooking?”

At this time, most girls, aside from attending school, would usually help their families with cooking, cleaning, and taking care of younger siblings. More than half of them raised their hands, while seven or eight, who appeared more delicate, lowered their heads and remained silent.

Li Mengwei selected eight girls who looked neat and efficient, asked for their names, and marked them on his roster. “From now on, you’ll be responsible for cooking at the Youth Settlement. The week’s rations and vegetables are already in the kitchen. Go prepare a meal now—after we eat, we’ll have a meeting.”

Hearing this, the selected girls secretly rejoiced. In the biting northern wind, even walking was difficult, let alone working outside. If they could stay in the kitchen long-term, that would be ideal. Although cooking meant dealing with cold water, at least they wouldn’t be exposed to the wind and snow—compared to fieldwork, this was a far easier job.

The kitchen was stocked with dozens of sacks of potatoes, cabbage, radishes, and kelp, along with over ten sacks of coarse cornmeal. There was no oil, nor any onions, ginger, or garlic. One of the girls carried over a bag of potatoes and suggested, “Let’s make kelp stew with potatoes for lunch. It’s quick and tastes decent.”

Since there weren’t many ingredients to choose from, no one objected. They immediately divided the tasks—some mixed dough to make flatbreads, while others squatted on the ground peeling potatoes.

Cooking for over a hundred people, the eight girls spent more than two hours preparing the meal. Though it was just a single dish, they peeled nearly half a sack of potatoes, leaving their fingers sore from the effort.

Mingbei received a bowl of stew and four large flatbreads. He carried them back to his room and sat on the kang’s edge. Taking a bite of the stew, he immediately noticed that not only was there no trace of oil, but even the salt was sparse. The kelp had a strong earthy, fishy smell—whether from improper washing or some other reason—that almost made him spit it out.

Holding the piece of kelp in his mouth, Mingbei grimaced and looked around, only to see that the other educated youths were eating enthusiastically, slurping down the stew as if they hadn’t noticed its taste. Swallowing the kelp, Mingbei nudged the classmate next to him with his elbow and lowered his voice, “Zhou Qiang, don’t you think this tastes awful? Look, there’s not even a drop of oil.”

Zhou Qiang glanced at him in confusion. “Not all dishes at home have oil either.”

Mingbei was momentarily stunned. At home, his family used plenty of oil whether stir-frying vegetables or making dumplings. Not to mention, Zhenzhen often ate dishes like spicy shrimp and boiled fish, which required half a bowl of oil. Was oil really that scarce?

He picked up a potato chunk and stuffed it into his mouth before asking Zhou Qiang, “Is your household’s oil ration not enough? Don’t you grow soybeans to press your own oil?”

Zhou Qiang took a bite of his flatbread and mumbled, “We only have a small plot of land, and the soybeans we grow aren’t nearly enough for that. My mom adds just a soybean-sized drop of oil when cooking.” He took another bite of stew and then turned to ask Mingbei, “Why? Does your family have enough oil?”

Though Mingbei was a bit naive, Grandma Li had always taught him not to talk about their family affairs, especially not to reveal their financial situation. He quickly shook his head. “Not enough either. I thought we’d be eating better here than at home.”

Zhou Qiang snorted and gave him a sidelong glance. “Dream on.” Lowering his voice, he added, “We’re here to work, not to enjoy ourselves.”

Mingbei fell silent. Seeing some people had already finished eating, he stopped talking and focused on finishing his own meal. Closing his eyes, he swallowed the stew along with his flatbread, then took his bowl outside to wash it before returning to sit on the kang in a daze.

Li Mengwei didn’t let the educated youths rest for long. Once everyone had finished eating, he gathered them all together. Since there were too many people to fit into one room, the male youths had to remove their shoes and sit cross-legged on the kang, while the female youths squeezed together. Li Mengwei had to retreat all the way to the doorway just to find enough space to stand.

“I’ll explain the rules of our youth work point,” Li Mengwei said, opening a notebook and reading aloud, “Today is your first day here, so the factory is giving you time to adjust. No work assignments for now. Starting tomorrow, our youth work point will operate on a work points system. Different tasks earn different points. For example, hauling logs from the mountain earns eight work points a day, which amounts to 20 cents. Cooking at home earns six and a half work points, which is worth seven cents. There are also jobs worth seven and seven and a half points. Your work points will be recorded based on how much you do.

You can choose your own tasks, but starting tomorrow, meals will require meal tickets. You’ll have to buy these tickets from me using the money you earn. Of course, you can choose lower-paying work or even do nothing and stay in bed all day, but don’t blame me if you go hungry because I won’t be giving you free meals.”

The room fell silent. The educated youths all lowered their heads, calculating their options. Li Mengwei glanced at them and turned a page in his notebook. “Last month, some of the educated youths arrived early to help build housing. The factory has decided to pay them a standard rate of eight work points per day. I’ll call out their names shortly, and they can come collect their wages. Also, today’s cooks will receive six and a half work points. Starting tomorrow, you can choose your own tasks.”

After the meeting, Ming Bei collected his six yuan and twenty cents from Li Mengwei, feeling dazed. He had been leaving before dawn and returning after dark, spending his days carrying bricks in the howling northern wind. He felt his work was far harder than his father’s job at the grain warehouse, yet his father earned over forty yuan a month, while he only got six?

As he struggled to process this, Wang Zehai, who shared the same heated brick bed, took out a notebook and a sleek fountain pen from his bag, recording something.

Seeing that Hero-brand fountain pen, Ming Bei’s eyes reddened. When his eldest brother, Ming Dong, earned his first paycheck of fifty-two yuan, he bought gifts for the entire family. Ming Xi, Ming Nan, and Ming Bei each received an eight-yuan Hero fountain pen. Ming Xi had taken his to the army, Ming Nan still used his daily to write in his journal, but as for his own…

He had worked himself to the bone for a month hauling bricks, yet he couldn’t even afford a single fountain pen. And he had traded his own pen for a better seat. Regret and frustration swelled in Ming Bei’s heart, and he wished he could slap himself. Only now did he realize that not only had he wasted his eldest brother’s goodwill, but he had also been incredibly shortsighted. No wonder his family had been so angry with him.

Dejected, he tucked his hard-earned money into his inner pocket, feeling lost for the first time.

That night, because of those six yuan, Ming Bei tossed and turned, unable to sleep. At dawn the next day, Li Mengwei went around knocking on doors to wake everyone up.

Breakfast consisted of a bowl of coarse grain porridge and two cornbread pancakes per person. The cost was recorded on a tab to be deducted from their wages at the end of the month. Ming Bei ate in a daze, barely waking up before Li Mengwei started urging the educated youths to head up the mountain.

Since they would have to cultivate their own land come spring, the youth work point had been built on a flat area, though it was a bit far from the red pine forest. Li Mengwei handed each person an axe and led the way.

It was late December, the coldest time of year. The path to the red pine forest was buried under thick snow. Each step sank them down to their thighs. The ten-kilometer journey took nearly two hours.

When they finally arrived, Li Mengwei gathered everyone and shouted at the top of his lungs, “We need to find small trees about the thickness of a bowl—roughly 15 centimeters in diameter. Cut them down and carry them back. Your work points will be recorded based on how many you bring in.”

As soon as he finished speaking, everyone grimaced. Forget everything else—just walking back on foot would take two hours, and now they had to carry logs too? The task seemed impossible.

Ming Bei, who had been hauling firewood from the mountains since he was a child, had some experience with carrying logs. He patted a nearby birch tree and asked, “Why such small trees? They’re too weak for furniture and a waste if burned as firewood.”

Li Mengwei glanced at him and patiently explained, “When we transport logs with tractors, we need smaller poles to secure the load and prevent them from rolling off the truck. That’s why this job is important.”

“Do we have to chop trees all year round?” Wang Qiang, seeing that Ming Bei’s question hadn’t been met with scolding, chimed in.

Li Mengwei gave him a look and, holding back his impatience, explained, “There’s no other work in winter, so we’re cutting wood. Once spring comes, you’ll be planting pine trees and clearing land. There’ll be plenty of work waiting for you. Now get to it. If you don’t finish your tasks, you’ll have work points deducted.”

Hearing that, the educated youths panicked. Their wages were already low, barely enough for food. If their work points were deducted, they’d starve for sure.

While Ming Bei focused on chopping trees in the mountains, back at home, Wang Sufen was a bit worried. She paced around the kitchen a few times before asking Grandma Li, “Should we bring Ming Bei something to eat? Maybe just some pickled vegetables to add some flavor to his meals?”

Grandma Li sighed and nodded. “A bit of pickled vegetables is fine. But let’s be clear—if he asks for mantou or sesame flatbreads, we won’t give him any. Those educated youths are earning wages, aren’t they? Let him buy his own food. He won’t understand the value of money until he earns it himself.” She huffed in frustration, tapping her pipe against the brick bed. “Trading a perfectly good fountain pen just for a better seat…!” The thought of it made her chest ache with anger.

Wang Sufen, hearing mention of the pen, immediately abandoned the idea of making some pork sauce for Ming Bei. She agreed, “Exactly! Let him buy his own food. And when he comes home, we won’t make him anything special either—just let him eat coarse grain porridge.”

Grandma Li’s anger eased slightly at that. She chuckled, tossing her pipe onto the bed. Then, realizing the house was unusually quiet, she frowned and rubbed her forehead. “Where’s Zhenzhen? When did she sneak out again?”

Wang Sufen thought for a moment. “Right after breakfast. She said she was going to check out fabric for Ming Nan’s wedding.”

“Oh dear, my girl really has a worrying nature.” Grandma Li shook her head. “She just has to get involved in everything. She’s still so young.”

At that moment, Zhenzhen was lining up at the People’s Road Mall in the imperial capital. In this era, people were busy all year round, with only the New Year period offering a brief respite. Supplies were relatively abundant, and after a year of hard work, most families had some extra money on hand. As a result, the mall was bustling with people shopping.

Zhenzhen patted the money and various ration tickets in her pocket, glancing around at the shelves while calculating what to bring back. Over the past few years, some well-known figures in the mountains occasionally asked her to help buy meat or grain, always paying fairly in both money and tickets. Through this, she had managed to accumulate quite a few resources.

When she reached the fabric section, Zhenzhen stopped. Her primary reason for coming to the imperial capital was to buy fabric for Meng Xiaoxi’s wedding outfit, as well as bed sheets and pillowcases for Mingnan’s wedding. The supply and marketing cooperative in Beicha also had these items, but the colors were dull and always in short supply.

Since her personal space contained various woolen and tweed fabrics, she focused on summer clothing and fabric instead. Fortunately, demand for these was low at the moment, and when it was finally her turn, there was still plenty left in stock. The movement had only been going on for a few years, and things were still in full swing, so fabrics were mainly in shades of green, blue, and gray, with few bright colors available.

Using her consciousness, Zhenzhen scanned the fabrics and committed all their designs to memory. She tapped on the counter and said to the salesperson, “I just saw a piece of red fabric with a subtle floral pattern peeking out from underneath. Could you take it out for me to see?”

“Red with a subtle floral pattern?” The salesperson rummaged around for a while before pulling out a piece and tossing it onto the counter. “Is this the one?”

Zhenzhen shook it out and spread it open for a closer look. It was a fabric specifically for newlyweds, with a subtle pattern of double happiness symbols. Though not exactly her style, it was far more appealing than the plain-colored fabrics on top. Setting it down, she cheerfully said, “I’ll take three yards of this, and also two each of the red towels, red bed sheets, and red pillowcases over there.”

The salesperson glanced up at her while writing the receipt. “Do you have money and fabric ration tickets? Does your family know you’re out here buying fabric?”

“They do!” Zhenzhen replied sweetly with a smile. “My mom’s at home helping my brother make quilts, so she couldn’t come out.”

Handing over the receipt, the salesperson couldn’t help but mutter, “Such an important matter, and they send a kid to handle it? Some parents are really carefree.” Then she added, “These days, people prefer to wear military uniforms for weddings. This red fabric hasn’t sold in three years. Are you sure you want to buy it?”

Zhenzhen glanced at the other colors and nodded firmly.

After paying, she carried the large paper-wrapped bundle out. When she turned into a small alley, she quickly ducked into her personal space while no one was around, placing the new fabrics alongside the woolen ones she had chosen earlier. Seeing that it was still early, she didn’t head home right away but instead reappeared at the foot of a mountain in the suburbs.

Following a hidden, narrow path, she arrived at the place where the scholars were in hiding. It was the sunniest time of the day, and although the temperature was low, everyone had come out of the Western-style house—partly to bask in the sun and partly to stretch their limbs. Peking Opera master Xie Shurang and his senior sister Yan Baozhu stood beside the house, singing a passage from The Peony Pavilion.

Seeing Zhenzhen arrive, everyone gathered around with smiles. “You’re finally here! It’s been over half a month since we last saw you.”

Zhenzhen rubbed her cheeks and grinned. “My third brother is getting married next year, and the whole family is busy with preparations. Sometimes I have to help out too.”

In these somber times, news of a wedding was a rare bright spot. Everyone’s eyes lit up. “That’s wonderful! We should send a gift, but we don’t really have anything valuable to give right now.”

Zhenzhen chuckled. “Just saying ‘a hundred years of harmony’ is the best blessing. Giving gifts would make it too formal.”

Calligraphy and painting master Su Weiran half-jokingly said, “I was thinking of gifting you a painting, but since you said gifts are too formal, I suppose I’ll just keep it for myself.”

Hearing this, Zhenzhen immediately grew anxious. Su Weiran was a national treasure-level artist, and in later years, his paintings would sell for billions at auctions. A gift like that was a must-have! She quickly stepped forward, clasped her hands together, and pleaded, “The greatest elegance is found in the most common things. So sometimes, it’s good to be a little ‘common,’ don’t you think? Teacher Su, which painting do you think would suit me best?”

Su Weiran laughed at her flattery. Leading her into the house, he said, “I recently painted Elegant Residence in the Mountains, depicting the scenery here. It would be perfect for you.”

Zhenzhen eagerly followed him inside. “I have to see if I’m in it!”

The second-floor study was a shared space, though Wang Wo had been staying there the longest, so most of the books and papers belonged to him. As Su Weiran put away the book he had been reading, he suddenly asked, “Has there been any news in the newspapers about Wang Wo winning the Nobel Prize?”

Zhenzhen shook her head. “I’ve been keeping an eye on it, but none of the major newspapers have mentioned it.”

Su Weiran sat down in thought. “It’s probably because the higher-ups haven’t decided whether to announce it yet.”