Chapter 64

After dinner, Zhenzhen returned to her room early and, in a flash, arrived at Su Weiran’s home in the imperial capital. As Su Weiran had expected, the house was no longer in the tidy state it had been before he left. The front door hung loosely on its frame, all the stools inside were gone, and both the table and wardrobe bore marks of being smashed.

Zhenzhen closed the door and looked toward the large wardrobe. Fortunately, it was made of solid wood—wide and tall—so the average person couldn’t move it. As a result, it remained intact in its original place. She opened the wardrobe, only to find that everything inside had long been looted, leaving not even a single hanger behind.

Instead of moving the wardrobe, Zhenzhen flickered and reappeared in the basement. The space was about twenty square meters, with shelves lining the walls, filled with various papers, pigments, and calligraphy brushes.

She collected all these items into her storage space, then turned her gaze to a row of painting cylinders in the corner. Due to the basement’s damp and chilly conditions, some scroll edges had begun to show faint yellowing even in just two years. Worried that this place would be discovered sooner or later, she decisively stored everything in her space, relocating them to an open area for better preservation.

The next morning, after breakfast, Zhenzhen teleported to the mountains outside the imperial capital. From the basket she carried, she took out a stack of paper, then carefully arranged the pigments and brushes on the table. “There’s hardly anything left at home, but the basement was securely locked, so no one found it. I noticed it was getting too damp inside, so I moved everything elsewhere. When things settle down outside and you want to return home, I’ll bring everything back for you.”

Su Weiran looked grateful. “It’s all thanks to you this time. Otherwise, given enough time, my paintings would have been ruined.”

Zhenzhen grinned, sucking in a breath through the gap in her teeth. “Well, you’re my teacher—no need to be so polite.”

“Right, right, no need for formalities with you.” Su Weiran chuckled heartily, walking over to the table. He placed the trimmed sheets on the surface, then selected a set of pigments from those Zhenzhen had brought. With a smile, he looked at her and asked, “What flowers are you painting today?”

“Plum blossoms.”

Plum blossoms, admired by painters throughout history for their resilience, were often paired with snow, a classic artistic combination. Zhenzhen mixed her colors and began painting vivid red blossoms on the paper. Rather than emphasizing the plum’s unyielding nature in the snow, she focused on showcasing its brilliant, fiery red in full bloom.

Red was a color that stirred passion, and compared to yesterday’s Lotus Painting, her Ode to Plum Blossoms used bolder colors and slightly more exaggerated techniques, bringing out the plum’s burning vitality. Su Weiran watched with a smile, stroking his beard in admiration.

—

At twelve past midnight, after dinner, Mingbei waited until everyone was washing up before calling Wang Zehai outside. Facing the howling northern wind, he lowered his head and said, “I want to buy back the fountain pen my brother gave me.”

Wang Zehai chuckled twice, his gaze carrying a hint of mockery. “Oh? Regretting it now? You swore back then that you’d never go back on your word.”

Mingbei remained silent for a long time before finally saying, “I do regret it. Name your price—I’ll pay.”

Wang Zehai kicked at the snow beneath his feet, then turned to look at Mingbei. “Five yuan. Of course, if you think that’s too expensive, you can always buy a new one at the supply and marketing cooperative for eight yuan.”

“I just want my pen back.” Without hesitation, Mingbei reached into his pocket, counted out five yuan, and handed it over. “My brother bought this for me—it’s not the same as a new one. Besides, I need to learn my lesson.”

Wang Zehai accepted the money but smirked as he counted it. Then, after a moment, he handed two yuan back. “We’re classmates—I won’t rip you off too much. Here’s two yuan back. But you have to return the old pen I gave you.”

Mingbei stared at Wang Zehai’s outstretched hand in surprise. Impatiently, Wang Zehai extended it further. “Hurry up. It’s freezing out here—my hand’s gonna fall off.”

Snapping back to reality, Mingbei quickly took the money, his expression a mix of gratitude and something close to tears. Wang Zehai curled his lips in amusement before turning back into the house.

Mingbei stuffed the money into his pocket and squatted by the wall. It was the fifteenth of the month, and the moonlight reflected off the thick snow, casting a pale glow. Looking in the direction of home, his eyes reddened. “Grandma, I miss home.”

Just then, the door creaked open from the inside. Startled, Mingbei hurriedly wiped his eyes and looked toward the entrance. Wang Zehai stood inside, gazing down at him from above. Pretending not to notice the tear stains on his face, he simply said, “Hurry up and get me my pen—I need to write something.”

“Yes!” Mingbei responded immediately, scrambling to his feet and heading inside. As soon as the plastic-covered door shut behind him, it blocked out the piercing cold.

The stove in the middle of the room was burning fiercely. The sudden shift from cold to warmth made Mingbei sneeze, instantly shaking off half the chill from his body. He took off his heavy cotton coat and placed it on his bed, then hurriedly unzipped his schoolbag. Pulling out Wang Zehai’s old fountain pen, he returned it in exchange for the one Mingdong had given him.

Mingbei had only decided to switch desks after the summer break, thinking that with just one semester left, if he didn’t push himself now, he might never get another chance. That was why he had foolishly traded pens. Before that, he hadn’t really understood the sentimental value of the fountain pen.

Being a bit reckless by nature, he had carelessly stained the pen cap and barrel with ink several times. However, when Wang Zehai received it, he had meticulously cleaned every mark, and he had always handled it carefully. Now, the pen looked even shinier and newer than when it was first exchanged.

Ming Bei held the fountain pen, feeling a pang of sorrow in his heart. Only now did he fully understand that his grandmother had beaten him with her tobacco pipe not just because of the pen’s price, but also because he had trampled on Ming Dong’s expectations and goodwill. Closing his eyes, he could still recall the moment when the package and letter from Ming Dong arrived. Although Ming Dong hadn’t been able to personally deliver the items home, the excitement and joy in his words were evident as Ming Bei read the letter. That first salary, the first gift to his family—it held extraordinary significance for Ming Dong.

Ming Bei carefully placed the pen into the wooden box inside his school bag and tucked it under his feet. He took off his cotton-padded jacket, draped it over the quilt, and quickly burrowed into the warm bedding.

After carrying logs all day, Ming Bei’s shoulders still ached, and he guessed that by tomorrow, he might not even be able to lift them. Yet despite this effort, he hadn’t completed his full workload and had only earned seven and a half work points—meaning he hadn’t even made twenty cents that day.

He sighed, his youthful face full of worry. Based on today’s meal tickets, he estimated that his monthly food expenses would be at least five or six yuan, which meant that apart from food, his meager wages would leave him with practically nothing. It made sense, though—this youth work camp wasn’t meant for them to make money; it was just a place to ensure unemployed youths had food to eat.

Ming Bei couldn’t help but take out the loose change from his inner pocket and count it again. After spending twenty cents on meals and giving Wang Zehai three yuan, he was left with just three yuan—barely enough for fifteen days of food. According to Li Mengwei, they only exchanged money once a month, meaning he’d likely have to owe the youth work camp for food in the second half of the month.

Gritting his teeth in frustration, Ming Bei muttered to himself—he had never owed anyone anything in his life.

Perhaps because of these worries, he woke up at the crack of dawn the next day. As expected, his right shoulder was sore and painful, making him wince at the slightest movement. He rubbed his shoulder, then awkwardly grabbed his cotton-padded jacket with his left hand and struggled to put it on. Looking around, he saw that most of the others were in the same state, groaning in pain in the early morning chill.

After washing up, he went to the kitchen to get breakfast. Stretching his neck to see what was in the pot, his gaze was suddenly drawn to a familiar figure. Yu Wanqiu was collecting meal tickets and ladling thick corn porridge into bowls. When it was finally Ming Bei’s turn, he handed over his bowl and asked softly, “You’re working in the kitchen now? Not going up the mountain today?”

Yu Wanqiu gave a quiet “Mm,” scooped a thick ladleful from the bottom of the pot into his bowl, took his meal ticket with an expressionless face, and glanced past him. “Next.”

Ming Bei carried his bowl back to the dormitory. He was used to Yu Wanqiu’s indifferent attitude by now—though a little disappointed, it didn’t affect his mood too much. His mind was entirely focused on how to avoid owing meal tickets to the work camp.

Saving money wasn’t an option—with this level of labor, if he didn’t eat enough, he wouldn’t have the strength to carry logs. To fill the financial gap, he had two choices: ask his family for money or take on extra work. Back home, he had taken pocket money from Grandma Li more than once, but ever since arriving at the work camp, he felt that as a grown man, asking his grandmother for money was shameful. Even if his grandmother didn’t say anything, he himself would feel embarrassed—after all, his older brothers had never asked for a cent after graduating.

After some thought, Ming Bei decided to focus on working more.

Most of the young workers here were children of employees from the hydrolysis plant. Since the railway had yet to be renovated, the plant gave them two days off every ten days to return home and rest. On the long-awaited break day, as soon as they finished breakfast, many of them eagerly packed up and headed home. Ming Bei hesitated a few times but couldn’t decide whether to go back.

Li Mengwei, going through his records, noticed Ming Bei’s absentmindedness and asked, “Why aren’t you heading home?”

Ming Bei hesitated before stepping forward. “If I don’t go home and instead go up the mountain to carry logs, do I still get work points?”

Without looking up, Li Mengwei replied, “Of course. Same as usual. If you’re staying, hurry up and get to the mountain—don’t be late.”

Ming Bei immediately brightened up and responded enthusiastically. He quickly tossed his school bag onto the heated brick bed and called on a few others who weren’t heading home to go up the mountain with him.

The youth work camp wasn’t too far from Beicha, and after several days of trekking through the mountains, they were already used to the route. It took them only an hour to reach the hydrolysis plant.

That afternoon, when Ming Nan returned home from work, he noticed Ming Bei wasn’t there and asked in confusion, “Where’s Ming Bei? Off running around again?”

Wang Sufen looked up from the stove, puzzled. “Ming Bei’s not back? Are you sure you didn’t just miss him?”

Ming Nan took off his thick leather coat, still looking perplexed. “A bunch of the young workers from the hydrolysis plant came back today. The youth work camp is on break for two days. If Ming Bei doesn’t come home this time, he won’t be back until the twelfth lunar month.”

Wang Sufen’s expression darkened instantly. She slammed the firewood stick in her hand onto the ground. “That little brat must be off fooling around! Just wait till he gets back—I’ll teach him a lesson!”

Ming Nan brought in some firewood and helped her stoke the stove. “Mom, I think you might be wrong about him this time. Master Wang at our workshop said his son is working at the youth camp carrying logs down from the mountain. The boy was so exhausted that he fell asleep in the middle of lunch. Master Wang was heartbroken when he saw him.”

Wang Sufen was stunned for a moment. She turned off the stove, hurried into the east room, and told Grandma Li what Ming Nan had said. “Mom, do you think something happened to Ming Bei? Is that why he didn’t come back?”

Grandma Li didn’t even lift her eyelids. “What could happen? He’s probably just too tired to walk and is lying on the heated brick bed catching up on sleep. It’s better this way—don’t you remember what I told you last time?”

“Oh! Right, right!” Wang Sufen finally remembered. She glanced at Grandma Li, hesitated for a moment, then fell silent. However, her expression was clearly still uneasy.

Zhenzhen heard Wang Sufen and Grandma Li talking in the house, so she extended her consciousness to the youth point. She saw that the large houses in the twelve youth points were empty, except for two people sleeping. She took a closer look and confirmed that neither of them was Mingbei. Retracting her gaze, she looked outside and finally spotted Mingbei carrying two thick logs, about the width of a bowl, down the mountain.

The heavy logs caused Mingbei’s shoulders to tilt to one side. He held the wood with both hands, gritted his teeth, and trudged forward, leaving deep footprints in the snow with each step. Zhenzhen felt a pang of distress at the sight and instinctively wanted to use her abilities to lighten his load. However, Grandma Li’s words echoed in her mind: “They have their own paths to walk. They need to endure hardships. You can’t help them forever.”

Zhenzhen bit her lip and withdrew her ability. She didn’t know why Mingbei chose to keep working for labor credits instead of coming home during the holidays, but she understood that he must have his reasons.

She retracted her consciousness and pretended to know nothing. Then she turned around to find Grandma Li to discuss the New Year preparations. Last month, Mingdong had sent a letter home, roughly stating his return date, which was expected to be within the next few days.

At that moment, in the residential area of Anbei Agricultural College, Guihua was hurrying along with Doubao(Bean Bun) to pick up Roubao(Meat Bun)from the kindergarten. Mingdong would finish his last class of the semester today, and according to their plan, they were set to take the early morning train the day after tomorrow to return to Beicha for the New Year.

After class, Mingdong returned to their small courtyard. As soon as he pushed open the gate, he was met with the sight of a spotless yard. He opened the door, stepped inside, and started removing his padded jacket while calling out to Guihua, who was cooking in the kitchen. “You cleared all the snow in the yard again? I heard on the office radio that it’s going to snow again tomorrow and the day after. You’re just wearing yourself out for nothing.”

Guihua used the stove hook to take a few roasted potatoes out of the stove pit and set them aside to cool. She turned around and smiled at Mingdong. “I just wanted to tidy up before heading home for the New Year. Otherwise, I’d feel like I left something undone.”

Mingdong squatted by the stove to warm himself and tilted his head to gaze at Guihua’s profile. “You’ve been managing the house and working at the kindergarten. Aren’t you exhausted? If it’s too much, just quit the job. Your health is more important. I don’t want you working yourself sick.”

“What’s so exhausting about watching children?” Guihua turned back and smiled at him. “Actually, I really like this job. It keeps me busy, and I can earn a bit of money—enough to bring some extra gifts for Grandma when we go home. Just thinking about it makes me happy.”

Seeing her cheerful expression, Mingdong couldn’t resist sitting up straight and planting a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll buy you something for the New Year too. Didn’t you run out of snowflake cream? When we get back to Beicha, I’ll take you to the supply and marketing cooperative to buy more.”

Even though they had been married for years, Mingdong kissing her in broad daylight still made Guihua’s face flush. She glared at him coquettishly and spoke in a soft, playful tone. “Stop it! What if the kids see?”

Mingdong chuckled in a low voice and playfully nipped her earlobe. “Then I’ll kiss you again tonight. We’re not working tomorrow, so we can sleep in.”

The warmth of his breath tickled Guihua’s neck, making her shiver. She turned her head to respond, but before she could speak, Mingdong quickly pecked her lips. His large hands slipped inside her coat and gave her waist a squeeze. “You’ve had two kids, yet your waist is still so slim—just like an unmarried girl’s.”

Guihua blushed even deeper and swatted his hand away, her voice turning weak even to her own ears. “Stop it! If you keep this up, I’ll get mad!”

“Okay, okay, I won’t.” Mingdong laughed and took her hand. “I just feel like I haven’t spent enough time with you. You’ve been working and managing the house, and I feel guilty about it. How about tomorrow, I take you and the kids out for a walk? Anbei isn’t as big as Beicha, but there’s a supply and marketing cooperative nearby. It’s not too far.”

Guihua finally managed to cool her flushed cheeks and, looking at him, couldn’t help but smile. “Alright, let’s go after breakfast. We can pick up some nice things for Grandma.”

Mingdong reached out to hold her hand and called into the house, “Roubao, Doubao, wash your hands and get ready for dinner! After we eat, go to bed early—your mom and I have something important to do tonight.”

Guihua, both embarrassed and annoyed, pinched Mingdong’s side. “What nonsense are you saying? What if the kids hear you?”

Mingdong laughed and dodged her teasing attack. Roubao ran out of the house, looking at them curiously. “Mom, what important thing do you and Dad have to do tonight?”

Guihua shot Mingdong a glare, then took Roubao’s hand and led him inside. “Don’t listen to your dad’s nonsense. He just wants you to sleep early so we can take you out tomorrow.”

Hearing that they’d be going out, Roubao and Doubao immediately cheered up. They excitedly chatted about what they might see and eat, finishing their meal quickly. Without even needing to be told, the two brothers washed up and went to bed early.

After cleaning up the dishes, Guihua was about to fetch water to wash them when Mingdong suddenly appeared, scooped her up, and carried her inside. The unexpected embrace startled her so much that she almost screamed, but she managed to cover her mouth in time, swallowing the sound. She instinctively wrapped one arm around his neck and playfully pounded his chest with the other. “You’re crazy! What are you doing?”

“I’m dying here. If you don’t save me, I really might not make it.” Mingdong chuckled, gently placing her on the heated brick bed. He reached back and turned off the light. “Tomorrow’s the start of our break—you should spend some quality time with me.”

Guihua let out a soft hum, placing her hands on his chest, then laughed and playfully slapped him. “I haven’t even laid out the bedding. Why are you in such a hurry?”

“No need for bedding—I’ll be your blanket.” Mingdong pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. His breathing grew uneven as he whispered against her lips, “Guihua, I love you. Do you know that?”

Guihua panted heavily, reached out, and pulled Mingdong’s neck down, sealing his lips with her heated kiss.

In the adjacent bedroom, Roubao lay on the kang, seeing the lights in the next room go out, and grinned happily. “Mom sure went to bed early today! Looks like we’ll be able to head into town bright and early tomorrow. Doubao, hurry up and sleep—you better not laze around in the morning.”

Doubao nodded seriously and obediently closed his eyes. “I won’t say a word. I’m going to sleep right now.”

But the next morning, Doubao, who had woken up early and was sitting on the kang, waited for a long time without seeing his parents come out. He pouted in dissatisfaction. “Brother, didn’t you say we’d go to town first thing in the morning? It’s been bright for ages, but Mom and Dad still aren’t up. Were you lying to me?”

Roubao slammed his fist on the kang in frustration. “It was Dad who lied to us.”

Doubao looked at Roubao aggrievedly. “Then you go wake Dad up.”

Roubao looked heartbroken. “Dad locked the door. I knocked for ages, and he still wouldn’t open it.”

Meanwhile, Mingdong, sleeping soundly: Snore… snore…

Guihua, nestled in Mingdong’s arms: Snore… snore…