Shen Qingyu walked against the flow of people into the dimly lit warehouse. Her slightly worn navy-blue thin sweater was neatly worn, and her hair was once again combed into a sleek braid. Her face showed little fatigue, only a quiet alertness.
The Spatial Spring Water had eased the soreness in her body, but the mental pressure still weighed heavily on her.
“Shen Zhiqing, you’re up so early.” Jiang Muxue’s voice carried a deliberately crafted intimacy. She sat on her bunk, deftly braiding her hair, but her gaze drifted toward Shen Qingyu, filled with inquiry and resentment.
She had actually gotten up earlier than Jiang Muxue, even ruining her plan to cultivate a reputation for thoughtfulness.
She was just as annoying as in her previous life.
Her words carried a provocative undertone, but she hadn’t expected that no one else seemed to notice.
Shen Qingyu didn’t look at her. Her eyes swept over Li Aihua, who was still struggling with her buttons, and Liu Caifeng, who was rubbing her eyes with a dazed expression.
Her tone was calm as she spoke, her voice soft yet clear enough to cut through the noise: “There’s hot water boiled in the kitchen pot. Help yourselves when washing up.”
After saying this, she walked straight to her bunk, picked up the aluminum water bottle printed with “Serve the People,” unscrewed the cap, and took a sip.
The cool, sweet spring water slid down her throat, dispelling the last traces of grogginess.
Jiang Muxue was left standing there, her fingers pausing slightly in her braiding. The smile on her face began to falter.
Again! Every time she tried to approach or probe, Shen Qingyu would deflect her with either indifference or brief, practical information. It felt like punching cotton—frustrating and suffocating.
Mu Yue was already dressed neatly. She looked gratefully at Shen Qingyu: “Thank you, Sister Shen.”
She hadn’t slept well last night. The unfamiliar environment and the hard bunk had left her whole body aching. Having some hot water to wash her face now felt like a godsend.
She hurried toward the kitchen.
Liu Hongxia also chimed in: “Oh, hot water is wonderful! Sister Shen, you’re so thoughtful!”
She energetically grabbed her enamel mug and followed.
Hearing this, the other educated youths also quickened their pace and headed for the kitchen.
Hot water was a rare comfort on this chilly northern morning. Shen Qingyu’s silent thoughtfulness had quietly earned her more goodwill.
Jiang Muxue watched the crowd surging toward the kitchen, biting her lower lip. In the end, she could only pick up her own toiletries and blend into the crowd as she walked out.
But her heart felt as if a stone were lodged in it—not only had Shen Qingyu not been provoked by her words, but she had also subtly won people over once again!
The male educated youths’ side was similarly chaotic.
Lu Ye, with messy hair and bleary eyes, complained: “That damn whistle! It’s like a death knell!”
Su Yixuan frowned as he adjusted his glasses.
Gu Huainian, however, was already tidied up, standing straight-backed by the door like a silent spear. His calm gaze swept over the chaotic scene, lingering on Shen Qingyu for a moment before shifting away.
Ji Yiqing was somewhat flustered as he buttoned his coat, his face wearing the embarrassment of an intellectual.
In the center of the courtyard, Wang Tiezhu was growing impatient. Holding a worn-out gong, his face darker than a pot’s bottom, he glared at these dawdling, disheveled city kids, his brows furrowed into a knot.
“What’s taking so long! The sun’s already up! Hurry up, line up, and gather at the threshing ground! The brigade leader is going to give a speech!”
Under his urging and scolding, the dozen or so educated youths finally managed to form two crooked rows in the courtyard.
Shen Qingyu stood at the front of the female educated youth line, with Mu Yue beside her.
Jiang Muxue deliberately positioned herself not far behind and to the side of Ji Yiqing.
On the male educated youth side, Gu Huainian stood at the very edge, Lu Ye and Su Yixuan squeezed together, while Zhao Dagang yawned.
Wang Tiezhu led this ragtag group toward the village’s central threshing ground like herding sheep.
The morning chill had not yet dissipated. Wisps of cooking smoke rose from the houses lining the dirt road, and the air was filled with the rustic scent of firewood mixed with livestock manure.
Villagers passing by cast curious or scrutinizing glances, causing many of the educated youths to lower their heads, feeling thoroughly uncomfortable.
A number of commune members had already gathered on the threshing ground. Team Leader Wang Dashan stood with his hands clasped behind his back on a waist-high earthen platform, his expression stern.
Seeing the educated youth group approach, his frown deepened.
“Attention!” Wang Tiezhu bellowed.
The educated youths were startled, instinctively straightening their backs, and the formation finally took on a semblance of order.
Wang Dashan’s gaze swept over the city-bred young people like a torch, and he began his address in a booming voice: “Comrades! Starting today, you are members of the Red Flag Production Team! Educated youths come to the countryside to receive re-education from the poor and lower-middle peasants! Not to live in comfort! Conditions here are tough, but the tougher they are, the more they temper you!”
“As I said yesterday, the Red Flag Production Team doesn’t support idlers! Work points are your lifeline! How much you work determines how much you eat! For those who slack off or try to cut corners, don’t blame Wang Dashan for being unsympathetic!” His gaze deliberately paused on the faces of a few educated youths who appeared particularly frail or well-dressed, including Shen Qingyu and Mu Yue, and of course, he didn’t miss Ji Yiqing either.
“Today, male comrades will follow Squad Three to weed the north slope! Female comrades will follow Squad Two to thin seedlings in the fields! All of you, pull yourselves together! Now, squad leaders, take your people!” Wang Dashan waved his hand decisively.
As soon as the address ended, the commune members sprang into action. A dark-skinned, stocky middle-aged man walked over, his voice rough: “Female educated youths of Squad Two, follow me! I’m Squad Two Leader Zhang Mantun!”
The six female educated youths—Shen Qingyu, Jiang Muxue, Mu Yue, Liu Hongxia, Li Aihua, and Liu Caifeng—followed behind Zhang Mantun.
As they walked, Zhang Mantun explained the task: mainly, the corn seedlings in the cornfield were too densely packed. They needed to remove the weaker seedlings, leaving the stronger ones, and maintain even spacing between plants.
“…This work requires precision, don’t rush it! Pulling the wrong seedlings or trampling them will cost you work points! Understood?”
“Understood…” the female educated youths replied in scattered voices, their tones tinged with nervousness and uncertainty.
Shen Qingyu silently memorized the key points, her eyes sweeping over the vast farmland as she estimated the day’s labor intensity.
Jiang Muxue, meanwhile, tried hard to steady her breathing, attempting to appear enthusiastic and unafraid of hardship, though the corner of her eye glanced toward Ji Yiqing, who was following Squad Three in another direction.
When they reached the riverside field, a stretch of vibrant green corn seedlings swayed gently in the morning breeze.
Zhang Mantun demonstrated how to identify weak seedlings, how to step without crushing the plants, and how to maintain proper spacing.
Then he assigned each person roughly two rows of tasks, emphasizing that they could only stop when the midday break whistle sounded, and would continue in the afternoon.
“Let’s begin!” Zhang Mantun gave the order, then walked over to the ridge and crouched down, pulling out his tobacco pipe, his gaze fixed intently on these newcomers.
The female educated youths exchanged uneasy glances before reluctantly stepping into the field.
The damp softness of the soil, the narrowness of the furrows, and the sharp edges of the corn leaves all became challenges.