“This ox cart isn’t your private property, right? It belongs to the team, doesn’t it? Since it’s a public ox cart, why can’t we use it? Do you have something against us? Are you trying to stir up class division?”
No wonder she’s Zhao Xiaomei—always quick to throw on a “big hat.” Labeling people has become second nature to her.
Unfortunately for her, today she ran into Old Zhang.
Old Zhang lived in the cowshed with a bunch of old Rightists and had long since grown used to shameless, baseless accusations. All that talk about “class” and “division”? He was sick of hearing it. His family had been poor peasants for eight generations, so poor he never married, and now in his old age he lived in a cowshed. He had no spare money, couldn’t read a single character—why on earth would he fear some little girl trying to slap a label on him? What kind of “hat” could possibly fit a man like him?
Old Zhang gave Zhao Xiaomei a sidelong glance and sneered.“A person like you is actually an educated youth? It’s such a waste for you to be sent to the countryside for construction—you should be working as a cadre in the Revolutionary Committee. You’d definitely make a name for yourself there.”
Every word he said was perfectly polite—civilized, even upbeat—but somehow it stung like a curse.
Zhao Xiaomei’s face flushed red, her voice rising. “Don’t get all sarcastic with me. We’re talking about the ox cart. What are you rambling about?”
Old Zhang flicked his whip, as if shooing away a fly. “What, girl, are your ears not working? I told you earlier—the ox cart’s already been reserved. In a bit I’m going to the next village to buy a water tank. If you’re going the same way, you can ride along. If not, then not today.”
Zhao Xiaomei was unconvinced. “Why can someone else use the public ox cart and I can’t? I’m taking it.”
Old Zhang couldn’t even be bothered to argue. He’d lived in the countryside his whole life and seen all kinds of difficult shrews. This one? Child’s play. Not enough to ruffle his mood.
At that moment, Song Yun walked over. She didn’t even look at Zhao Xiaomei, treating her like air, and spoke directly to a female educated youth standing nearby:“I reserved the ox cart to go buy water tanks. Are you going?”
The young woman quickly shook her head. “No, we’re planning to go to town to buy wooden boxes. Not heading to the next village.”
“Then we’re not going the same way. But we’ve got carpenters in our village who can make boxes without ration coupons—no need to buy from town.”
The girl glanced at Zhao Xiaomei, her cheeks flushing slightly. She said in a low voice, “Xiaomei said the recycling station has cheap wooden boxes, so we wanted to go take a look.”
She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth—especially when Zhao Xiaomei glared at her for speaking out of turn. Quickly she looked to Song Yun, but saw no contempt or disdain on her face; she was smiling just as before. The girl’s tense heart eased a little.
Song Yun said, “Yes, I’ve heard the recycling station has lots of good things. I’ll have to go another day and see if I can pick up anything useful.”
The young woman’s spirits lifted at her words. She smiled. “Then next time let’s go together. Oh, I’m Chen Meili, an educated youth who came here last year.”
Yesterday, when Song Yun went back to the educated youth dorm to fetch her luggage, Chen Meili had been inside helping pack and they hadn’t met.
Song Yun graciously extended her hand. “I’m Song Yun. Nice to meet you.”
Chen Meili quickly reached out to shake it lightly, her smile even more genuine. “Then hurry and go buy your water tank, Song. We can chat more later.”
After saying goodbye to Chen Meili, Song Yun climbed into the ox cart. Old Zhang snapped his whip, and the cart began to roll forward.
Watching Song Yun ride away, Zhao Xiaomei nearly ground her teeth to dust. But now she didn’t dare cross Song Yun lightly, afraid that foul mouth of hers would spit out something unpleasant again. She could only swallow her anger.
One day… One day, I’ll trample you under my feet.
Chen Meili caught sight of Zhao Xiaomei’s venomous expression and shivered. Almost without thinking, she turned and ran toward the educated youth dorm.
Zhao Xiaomei called after her, “Meili-jie, why are you running?”
Still running, Chen Meili replied, “My stomach hurts! I’m not going to the recycling station today—you go by yourself!”
Terrifying. Zhao Xiaomei was simply terrifying.
She had already found her frightening earlier, when Zhao Xiaomei tried to slap a political label on Old Zhang. Now, seeing the poisonous way she stared at Song Yun, Chen Meili had no desire to travel with her again. Best to stay far away.
In the end, Zhao Xiaomei didn’t go to the recycling station either. She went with two newly arrived female educated youths to Carpenter Liu’s to buy wooden wardrobes and trunks—but they didn’t buy anything. She’d taken a fancy to a wardrobe Liu had made, all labor and materials included, no ration tickets required, for eight yuan. Zhao Xiaomei complained it was too expensive, haggled endlessly, and said a bunch of nonsense that finally angered Carpenter Liu enough to throw her out. The two other girls also got cold looks and left empty-handed.
Meanwhile, Song Yun rode with Old Zhang to Huangmei Village. Old Zhang knew the way well and took her straight to Old Li’s place, where they made ceramic water tanks and jars. She learned that Old Li was even distantly related to Old Zhang. The two old men chatted away about personal matters, clearly on good terms.
Old Li’s daughter-in-law greeted Song Yun. She was around forty, short, and brisk in speech and movement. “You must be a new educated youth? You’re so pretty—never seen such beauty in all the villages around here.”
After the compliments, she led Song Yun into the back courtyard. There were all kinds of freshly fired ceramic tanks, jars, basins, and other everyday wares—not refined, even rough, but very practical.
Song Yun immediately ordered two large water tanks, five jars of varying sizes (since they tended to crack with long use), twenty ceramic bowls and plates each, two basins, and several pickle jars for storing vegetables in winter.
Seeing her buy so much, the woman grinned from ear to ear. The final bill was twenty-nine yuan, and she even gave Song Yun a teapot she had been saving for herself—a new design her father-in-law had made, with a small flaw. She had intended to keep it, but was so pleased she gifted it.
The teapot caught Song Yun’s eye. It wasn’t much to look at, but was very practical—just what her parents needed.
“Do you have more of these? I’d like to buy two.”
Just then, Old Zhang and Old Li finished talking and came to the back courtyard, overhearing Song Yun’s request. Old Li beamed. “Sure, sure! These are just things I made for fun. Since you’re buying so much, I’ll give you two more.” He went to a small wooden shed in the corner and brought out two similar rough but sturdy pots.
Nothing pleased Old Li more than someone liking his new wares. He packed everything onto the cart himself and even walked them to the edge of the village before heading back.
Song Yun smiled at Old Zhang. “Old Li is so warm-hearted. Thanks to you today, I got everything at a good price.”
She noticed the dry tobacco pipe tucked into the hemp rope at Old Zhang’s waist—the bowl was damaged, and it had no pouch, clearly unused for a while.
Quietly, she took out two packs of Da Qianmen cigarettes she’d prepared and slipped them into the cloth bag Old Zhang carried for food and water.