The heavy snowfall from some days ago seemed to have exhausted all the winter’s snow. Under the bare big tree at the village entrance, the stone benches were nearly full of the village’s most gossipy women. Their hands were busy stitching shoe soles while their mouths chattered nonstop. Needless to say, they were gossiping about this family and that.
“Wife of Dazhu, is what Liu Zhaodi said true? Liu Zhaodi is known to be a real shrew. If Old Wu’s family really tricked them, why wouldn’t she have come knocking on their door? Her just telling you about it—could it be you’re the one making this up to fool us?” Although Liu Er’s wife had a big mouth herself, she didn’t quite believe what Dazhu’s wife said. Old Wu had been a soldier in the People’s Liberation Army, after all, and was known for being fair and honest.
“Wife of Liu Er, I’ve told you exactly what Liu Zhaodi told me. How would I know whether it’s true or not? But it’s true that the engagement was called off, and it’s also true that Wu Jun won’t have a job to take over in the city after he turns 18. That came straight from the textile factory leadership.” Aunt Dazhu said with a proud air, as if the textile factory leaders had told her this directly to her face.
The other women listening nodded along with looks of agreement on their faces, though what they really thought in their hearts—no one could say.
Take the wife of Li San, who had gone to the county on the oxcart the day before yesterday. Her eyes darted around, and looking at widow Li, she said with ill intent, “Oh my, wife of Tiedan, your Tiedan has been gone for so long now. The day before yesterday, I saw you pushing your way toward that Junzi boy. I said to myself, this old dried-up pickle is trying to nibble on a tender young leaf. Now your chance has come. If the word gets out that Junzi tricked someone into marriage, no girl around here will want him.” As she spoke, she winked and gestured suggestively. Some of the women who liked stirring up trouble joined in with jeers.
Her husband was Li Tiedan’s cousin. There had never been any real enmity between the two families. The trouble was that after Tiedan died, widow Li—an outsider with no children—continued to live in Li Tiedan’s house. Though it wasn’t a great house, Li San’s family had many mouths to feed, so they had set their sights on it. If they could drive widow Li out, then the house would naturally fall into their hands and become part of the Old Li family’s property.
Just as Wu Jun was approaching the village entrance on his bicycle, he was met with the women’s searchlight-like stares. The sharp-eyed ones had already spotted the large stack of fabric tied to the back seat.
“Junzi, you went to the supply and marketing cooperative to buy cloth! That’s a lot of fabric. What a coincidence—your Uncle Dazhu is short a little bit to make his clothes. Why don’t you lend some to my family first?” Aunt Dazhu, the fastest on her feet, had already rushed over, her hand reaching toward the fabric on the back of the bicycle, speaking as if they were old friends.
Wu Jun saw the village’s most notorious big mouth. He didn’t even have time to catch his breath. Just as Aunt Dazhu was about to touch the fabric, he swerved like a dragon flicking its tail, his feet pumping like motors, and sped off on his bicycle.
Left standing there, Aunt Dazhu watched Wu Jun’s retreating figure, stomped her foot, and cursed, “You little brat, lousy poor thing. So stingy over lending a little bit of fabric. Serves you right for getting your engagement called off.”
The women who had witnessed this laughed inwardly. Although they all liked to gossip, most didn’t really enjoy associating with Aunt Dazhu. The fact was, she could twist even the most straightforward matter to her advantage, and she was so stingy she’d pluck feathers from any goose that passed by. Take Xie Dajia, whose chicken had once wandered into Aunt Dazhu’s vegetable patch and later been extorted for an egg as compensation. She gloated, “Oh my, Dazhu’s wife, you’ve really got some nerve. Just a moment ago you were badmouthing that Junzi boy, and now you’re asking to borrow fabric from him. With how pathetic you are, what would you even use to pay him back?”
“Pah! I borrow things—what’s that got to do with you, you miserly old hen? You shout one more time, and I swear I’ll beat you so bad your own man won’t recognize you.”
“Pah! Come on, then. You think I’m scared of you? Scared of a ball? You cheated my family out of an egg last time, and I haven’t settled that score with you yet.” With that, she rolled up her sleeves, looking ready to fight.
Just when it looked like a fight was about to break out, Liu Er’s wife suddenly said, “Didn’t they say that Junzi’s family is broke? How do they have the means to buy such a big pile of cloth?”
At that, the fight was forgotten. The crowd turned their attention back to Wu Jun’s family, speculating about whether they had money or not. If they did have money, some would surely shamelessly ingratiate themselves to get a share of the good fortune—maybe even introduce a relative or friend to become in-laws. If they were broke, they’d have to be careful not to let the family come borrowing money.
“Come to think of it, Wu Jun—why has his face gotten so much whiter lately? Compared to the other village boys, he looks like a city kid. Doesn’t seem like a poor one,” said Li San’s wife.
“So what if his face is whiter? He’s still destined to be a mud-legged peasant. Look at that scrawny frame—how many work points do you think he can earn? And with two old geezers at home to support, even if he had money, he’d burn through it all.” Aunt Dazhu thought about how Wu Jun had just brushed her off and spoke with venom. She had never liked Wu Jun’s family. Back in the day, the matchmaker had introduced her to Wu Jun’s father. If it hadn’t been for that ill-fated mother of Wu Jun and those two old geezers meddling, she would have been living the good life in the city by now. Instead, here she was, day after day, either doing farm work or stitching shoe soles, working the whole year through with nothing to spare. That ill-fated woman was born with bad luck—not only had she doomed Brother Wu to death, but the little brat she bore was just like her, destined to die young.
Having narrowly escaped disaster, Wu Jun wobbled home on his bicycle. He had no idea what the women at the village entrance were saying. It was nothing more than gossip about his family anyway. Carrying the fabric through the gate, he smelled the aroma of chicken stewed with mushrooms.
“Grandpa, that smells amazing. Are we having chicken stew with mushrooms today? Where did the chicken come from?”
“Your Second Uncle’s family killed a chicken and sent some over.” Grandma Wu took the fabric from her grandson’s hands as she spoke, felt it, and asked, “Why did you buy so much cloth? Do you have enough money and ration tickets?”
Only then did Wu Jun realize he hadn’t thought through how to explain buying so much cloth to his grandparents. After all, they knew exactly how much money and ration tickets he had. Flustered, he suddenly remembered Li Gong. “Today I happened to come across some seconds fabric—no ration tickets needed, just a bit more expensive. I borrowed some money from a friend in the county to buy it first. I’ll go back the day after tomorrow to repay him.”
Hearing it was seconds fabric, the old couple thought they had gotten a great bargain. Such fabric usually didn’t become available to ordinary folks. They didn’t expect their grandson to be so lucky. Happily, they put the fabric away and got ready to eat.
When the chicken stew with mushrooms was brought to the table, Wu Jun was instantly captivated. The dish was a rich golden color with a thick, savory broth. Although there were more mushrooms than chicken, the mushrooms had been thoroughly rehydrated, and their caps were scored with crosshatch cuts, making them look plump with broth. The chicken was cut into small pieces, interspersed with scallions—a perfect visual presentation. He took a bite of a mushroom: his mouth filled with juice, the mushroom’s delicate fragrance brought out the flavor of the chicken, and the texture was crisp yet slightly chewy—even better than the chicken itself. With this dish, Wu Jun ate four pancakes—something he rarely did.
In his mind, he reflected on the day: though he hadn’t had a big feast in the county, he had eaten large meat buns and run into an old playmate he hadn’t seen in years. Still, he hadn’t figured out why those three hooligans had followed him. He might need to put his black market plans on hold for a while. He also didn’t know how best to handle the ingredients in his refrigerator.
“Junzi, you just said you’re going to the county the day after tomorrow. While you’re there, go pick up this month’s subsidy. You know you’re already 16. In two more years, this subsidy will stop. It’s been your parents’ way of looking after you all this time. The village gossip says the reason you ‘tricked’ someone into marriage is because we sold off your textile factory job. Actually, the factory director had offered to keep the position for our family. But we were afraid that with so much time passing, it would be hard to manage, and we were worried other workers might get ideas. So we simply converted it into a subsidy. When you go to pick up the subsidy the day after tomorrow, go see Factory Director Hua and mention this to him.”
Grandpa Wu took a sip of hot water and continued: “He once said that if you wanted it, he would arrange a job for you when you turn 18. It might not be as good as your parents’ positions, but becoming a factory worker in the city is still a decent path. I had originally planned to teach you cooking and didn’t want to bother Factory Director Hua again. But with these rumors spreading, your grandmother and I have discussed it and think you’d be better off going into the factory.”
Wu Jun was deeply moved. “Grandpa, if I become a factory worker in the county, what will happen to you and Grandma? Who will take care of you?”
“We’re still hale and hearty—not at the point of needing a caretaker yet. The whole village is filled with our Wu family. If anything comes up, Uncle Shengli and Brother Hongqi will help. Besides, we don’t even know what position they might arrange yet. I’m just telling you about this now. Don’t overthink it, kid. We’ll see what Factory Director Hua says.” Grandpa Wu smiled.
Wu Jun thought it over and decided to go to the factory the day after tomorrow to find out the situation before making any decisions. After all, he still had his refrigerator—his golden finger. Even in the worst case, he could live off those ingredients, and the three of them would get by just fine. But if he really did get a chance to become a worker, it would be much easier to bring out those ingredients openly.