Before dawn the next day, Lin Erxia got up. She put on one of her only two outfits—a pair of “beggar-style” dark blue trousers and a light pink blouse. It was only “light pink” because it had been washed so many times the color had faded.
Even so, she had to take good care of it—this blouse would eventually be passed down to Lin Sanqiu.
Her movements woke Lin Dachun and Lin Sanqiu. The two girls scratched their hair and got up to help.
Lin Erxia tried to stop them, but they ignored her.
“We still have to feed the pig and the chickens—we’ve got to get up anyway.”
The family kept one pig and five chickens. These were allocated per household—no more than allowed, sometimes even fewer. Since they hadn’t split the family yet, they were still counted as one household, so they could only raise one pig.
After washing up, the three of them took turns looking into a small, uneven, palm-sized mirror. It was their shared treasure—a broken mirror they had picked up somewhere.
Once they were ready, Lin Erxia went to her grandmother’s room to get the key. All the food was locked away, and how much to eat each meal was entirely decided by the old lady.
Chen Shi got up with a gloomy face. She glanced coldly at Lin Erxia and, as she stepped outside, cursed,
“Making such a racket—like I’m deaf or something.”
At this point, even Lin Erxia’s breathing seemed like a mistake, so she just listened and said nothing.
Chen Shi led the three sisters to the kitchen, took out the cornmeal and flatbread for breakfast, then slammed the cabinet shut with a loud bang—as if it were her sworn enemy.
After she left, Lin Dachun and Lin Sanqiu were just about to relax when Sun Xiaoyun silently appeared at the kitchen door.
“Hurry up and cook! The whole family is waiting to eat. If you delay work, what high school are you even going to?”
It was clearly directed at Lin Erxia. She took a deep breath and endured it. Though she had a fiery temper, she wasn’t stupid—she wasn’t about to risk losing her chance to attend high school.
The three sisters first boiled water and filled two thermoses. Then they prepared breakfast: corn porridge in a large iron pot with a few potatoes added, and corn cakes steamed on top.
They also cooked pig feed in a clay pot—bran mixed with leftover vegetable leaves—boiled it, poured it into the trough, and tossed some greens into the chicken coop.
After a quiet breakfast, they cleaned up quickly, grabbed straw hats and towels, and hurried to the threshing ground.
It was late July—the hottest time of the year. As soon as the sun rose, the last trace of coolness vanished, and the air grew restless with heat.
They first gathered at the threshing ground, then went to the nearby storage room to collect and register tools before starting the day’s work.
The village mainly grew corn and winter wheat. This season was for corn, along with some sorghum, soybeans, and vegetables. There was also an orchard to the east of the village. Of course, a portion of everything had to be handed over first; only the remainder was distributed among the villagers.
By the time they arrived, many people were already there. Lin Erxia guessed it wasn’t even seven yet. People gathered in clusters, and the chatter was nonstop.
Someone called her name.
The three sisters each had friends in the village. A small, round-faced girl with a petite figure walked over—wearing a dark blue jacket, a straw hat, and a towel around her neck, wrapped up tightly from head to toe.
This was Lin Ailian, Lin Erxia’s closest friend in the village. They were about the same age and got along well. However, Ailian had already decided not to attend high school—partly because her grades were poor, and partly because she simply didn’t like studying.
The sisters split up to join their respective friends. Lin Erxia walked over to Lin Ailian, standing nearly half a head taller than her. Lin Erxia was already over 1.6 meters tall, while Ailian was just over 1.5—but both were still growing.
Lin Ailian skillfully looped her arm through Lin Erxia’s.
“Erxia-jie, why aren’t you wearing a jacket? We’re going to weed the cornfields today.”
Corn leaves could easily scratch the skin, leaving red, itchy marks. With the heat and sweat, it would be miserable.
“I’m fine—this is long-sleeved. I’m more afraid of the heat.”
“What’s there to fear about a little heat? Look how tanned you are—dark as can be. You won’t get your color back even after a whole winter.”
Compared to Lin Ailian, she was indeed darker. In fact, most people shared her complexion—years of working under the sun would do that. Besides, she hadn’t been particularly fair to begin with.
“It’s fine. Dark is dark—I don’t mind,” Lin Erxia said with a grin.
Lin Ailian rolled her eyes, then glanced around. Seeing no one paying attention, she leaned closer and whispered,
“So… what about that high school thing?”
Clearly, she already knew Lin Erxia’s family had tried to stop her from going. Lin Erxia shot her a look.
“We’ll talk after work starts.”
They dropped the subject and chatted about other things instead.
Soon, a series of clanging bells rang out. The noise gradually died down as everyone turned toward a platform set up in the east.
The villagers stood together in a large crowd. Off to one side, about a dozen people stood separately—they were sent-down educated youths supporting rural development. Some had been there five or six years, others only one or two. None of them were very old.
“Success is endured; ability is forged under pressure. The harder it gets, the less you can relax.”
Village chief Lin Dajin stood on the platform, opening with a revolutionary slogan.
“The weather is getting hotter, and it’s getting tougher. But no one must slack off. A successful harvest is within reach. Now, start work!”
His speech boosted morale. Everyone responded enthusiastically before heading to the storage room to collect tools and begin work.
As expected, most women and elderly people were assigned to weed the cornfields. Lin Erxia was no exception and walked alongside Lin Ailian.
A team leader assigned each of them a section. The corn was already waist-high—once they crouched down, they were completely hidden. The two girls worked side by side, grabbed their small hoes, and began weeding.
After moving further in, with no one nearby, Lin Ailian couldn’t hold back anymore.
“Erxia-jie, did your family finally agree to let you go to high school?”
“They did.” Lin Erxia briefly explained the situation, leaving out the arguments and simply saying she had reasoned things out with her family.
“I knew it! No one in our village has a sharper tongue than you. You could make boys cry when we were kids—this is nothing.”
There was a reason for that. When they were younger, mischievous boys often bullied them. The boys were stronger and outnumbered them—fighting back was useless.
One time, Lin Erxia got so angry that she went straight to the ringleader’s house while his parents were home and berated them for half an hour straight. She scolded them so thoroughly they couldn’t lift their heads. Right in front of her, they beat the boy until he bawled his eyes out, his backside swollen.
After that, Lin Erxia’s fierce reputation spread. No one dared bully them again, and Lin Ailian had stuck closely to her ever since.
“If we’re in the right, there’s nothing to fear. Let them talk all they want—they won’t win. We rely on our own ability. When your conduct is upright, you don’t fear crooked shadows.”
“But what about you? If you don’t go to high school, will you just keep doing fieldwork? You can’t handle this kind of hardship,” Lin Erxia asked.
Given how close they were, she knew Lin Ailian well—she wasn’t someone who could endure tough labor.
“Sigh, I’m worried too. If I don’t work, I can’t just stay at home—my second aunt would never let me hear the end of it. And I’m not that young anymore.
But working like this every day—under the sun, tired and hot—who can stand it?
Honestly, I just want to marry a worker soon and never do this kind of work again.”
Lin Erxia rolled her eyes.
“Counting on marriage? You’d be better off finding an easier job.”
As they chatted, their hands never stopped moving. If they didn’t finish their assigned work, they wouldn’t earn any work points.
Provided by the author Zhu Lin Luoyu