Tan Yandong hadn’t expected that collecting money and food from Tian Baozhu back then, away from prying eyes, had been so easy. Now, she had publicly torn off his facade and trampled it into the ground.
Sensing the glances being cast his way, he felt an overwhelming urge to dig a hole and bury himself.
But he quickly regained his composure.
Then, with a cold expression, he walked up to the female dormitory door and spoke to Tian Baozhu inside.
“Tian Baozhu, back then I saw you as a sister, so I accepted the things you gave me. Since you’re saying this now, rest assured, I will return everything. I only hope that from now on, you won’t cling to me anymore.”
Inside the dormitory, hearing Tan Yandong’s pathetic attempt to salvage his dignity, Tian Baozhu didn’t bother to spare his feelings and shouted back loudly.
“What kind of ‘sister’ is so generous, giving so much meat and grain to a ‘brother’ she’s not even related to? Comrade Tan Yandong, if you know any sisters like that, why not introduce them to all the male comrades at the educated youth settlement? I’m sure they’d really love to have such good ‘sisters.'”
With that, without waiting for Tan Yandong’s response, she went back into the space.
This time, she thoroughly examined every nook and cranny.
The entire courtyard consisted of two bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen, a dining room, a bathroom, a shower room, a woodshed, plus the drying yard. It all added up to about five hundred square meters.
The two bedrooms: one belonged to her parents. Inside the wardrobe, the clothes were all made of sturdy work fabric.
Her own bedroom, however, contained clothes made of fabric noticeably nicer than her parents’—several grades higher, in fact. The material felt soft and smooth against the skin.
On the wall in the living room hung a map of the country.
On the console table beneath it sat a bulky CRT television.
In front of it was a mahogany three-seater sofa and two matching armchairs.
One wall was covered with her academic awards; the opposite wall was filled with family portraits—her with her parents—and solo photos.
The bathroom and shower room were separate because her mother hated it when her father used the toilet while she was trying to shower; it was a waste of time. Essentially, it was an early version of a wet-dry separation.
In the woodshed, there were bundles of firewood her parents had bought from villagers, each piece sawn to a foot in length and split into roughly equal sizes. Besides firewood, there were coal bricks and wood shavings.
In the kitchen, next to the earthen stove, sat a brand-new high-power gas burner. Tian Baozhu shook the propane tank underneath; it was still full.
They only used the gas burner for hosting guests.
For their own family meals, her mother typically cooked on the earthen stove.
The kitchen was stocked with a complete array of seasonings, the shelves lined with jars and bottles.
Below the cabinets were large drums of cooking oil and fifty-pound bags of rice and flour.
On a nearby shelf were various dried goods.
On the floor sat an 8424 watermelon wrapped in plastic, next to a plastic bag containing bananas, apples, oranges, and grapes.
In the corner was a small refrigerator with only two functions: refrigeration and freezing.
Opening the top section, the refrigerator door was stuffed with yogurt.
Back then, her mother had made her drink a bottle of yogurt every day to help her grow taller.
The middle shelf held two cucumbers, three tomatoes, green peppers, and some other vegetables.
On the bottom shelf lay a fresh fish and a piece of pork belly weighing three or four catties, complete with ribs.
On the three small tiers on the door, the top shelf held various sauces—some for cooking, others meant to be mixed directly into rice.
The middle tier held rows of neatly arranged eggs. The bottom tier held salted duck eggs and century eggs.
In the first freezer drawer below was a large chunk of beef. A whole leg of lamb had been chopped and neatly stacked inside. There were also three pork knuckles, one chicken, one duck, and a large piece of cured meat.
The second freezer drawer was packed tightly with shrimp, Russian fish heads, belt fish, and yellow croaker.
In the bottom drawer was a stack of Tian Baozhu’s favorites—popsicles and ice cream. She couldn’t help touching them, her nose tingling with emotion.
Back then, her mother only allowed her one a day during the summer.
She closed the refrigerator door and walked to the dining room. It was simply furnished with a square table and four chairs with backs.
The empty bowls and chopsticks from her earlier meal were still on the table, unwashed.
Using the hot water kept warm in the earthen stove, Tian Baozhu washed the dishes and put them back in the cupboard.
Her mind was busy calculating. Although the supplies weren’t scarce, they wouldn’t last forever if she only consumed without replenishing.
In this era, going hungry was common—and it was something she absolutely couldn’t stand.
She wondered if she could raise pigs in the pigsties out back or plant things in the empty fields next to them.
If she could, she’d definitely need to get some animals and seeds in there.
That way, at least she could ensure she wouldn’t go hungry.
Thinking this, Tian Baozhu couldn’t help sighing deeply.
She had refused to inherit the family pig farm back then, never imagining she’d end up here, having to start pig farming all over again.
Still, it wasn’t long now until that old man drew his circle by the sea.
Once he did, she’d find a way to open a restaurant.
Then she could leave the pigs behind and focus on the food she loved.
With that thought, Tian Baozhu clenched her fists. The road ahead is long and hard. I have to keep going.
After psyching herself up, she went to the kitchen, washed an apple, and lay down on the kang, munching away with loud crunching sounds.
When she finished the apple and finally emerged from her room, the educated youth compound was empty.
Tan Yandong and Cheng Baole had left at some point. Tian Baozhu looked up at the overcast sky.
In the middle of winter, I don’t even know how long I’ve been in the space.
She instinctively reached for her phone to check the time, then remembered—there were no phones now.
She pushed up her sleeve and sighed again. She didn’t even have a watch.
Not knowing the time without a phone or a watch was unbearable.
No, I need to figure something out. Once that scumbag pays me back, I’ll buy myself a watch.
With this in mind, she turned back into the room and opened the cabinet that had belonged to her predecessor, checking her assets.
Inside were only two or three pieces of clothing, a package of fried dough sticks, a package of shortbread cookies, and a bag of dried fruit.
Following her memory, she moved the clothes aside and pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of the garment at the bottom. Unwrapping it, she found a meager three yuan and twenty cents, and not a single coupon.
Tian Baozhu felt deflated. She remembered that buying a watch required coupons now.
So, even if that scumbag returned her money, she still couldn’t buy a watch?
While Tian Baozhu was fretting over the lack of coupons, in the most remote corner of the village, a thatched cottage nestled at the foot of the mountain, Lin Lao Jiu was pulling money and coupons from his bag and handing them to the person in front of him.