The northwestern wind remained as wild as ever, and life in the family compound was still plain and filled with trivial routines. But for Su Huaijin, these three days had been the fullest and most satisfying since her “rebirth.”
On the first night, she truly was too scared to sleep.
The wind outside howled like wolves, and the room felt empty and hollow. Without the man who radiated heat like a human furnace lying beside her, the large bed felt unbearably cold.
Clutching the eyebrow pencil he had carved for her, she stayed awake until dawn.
Early the next morning, Su Huaijin stood there with dark circles under her eyes, staring at the dust-covered room and the peeling, stained walls.
Suddenly, she decided she’d had enough.
“No more waiting.”
She slapped the stack of cash and ration coupons onto the table, determination shining in her eyes.
“If I’m going to live here properly, I refuse to live like a refugee. Cheng Beitang doesn’t have time to fix this place? Fine. I’ll do it myself!”
She had studied art.
Aesthetic sense and hands-on creativity were in her bones.
And once she made up her mind, she acted immediately.
Su Huaijin changed into her darkest, most dirt-resistant old clothes, twisted her hair into a neat bun, slung a military-green canvas bag over her shoulder, slipped into flat shoes, and marched boldly toward the military supply store.
…
The supply store was basically the department store of that era.
Though it was only a small shop on the military base, with sparse shelves lined with daily necessities, to Su Huaijin it was practically a treasure trove.
“Comrade, I want fifty jin of white lime powder for walls!”
“And this too—this blue plaid homespun fabric. I’ll take all of it!”
“And those defective white cotton fabrics in the corner—I’ll buy every roll!”
Behind the counter sat a middle-aged saleswoman cracking sunflower seeds. Hearing such extravagant shopping, she nearly dropped the seed shells in shock.
“Oh my, little sister, what do you need so much lime powder for? That stuff burns your hands!”
Smiling sweetly, Su Huaijin pulled out her money and ration tickets.
“To repaint the walls. The plaster in my house looks like it’s about to fall off and hit someone.”
“You’re doing it yourself?” The woman’s eyes widened as she looked the delicate young beauty up and down. “That’s hard labor! Where’s your husband?”
“He’s out on a mission.”
Su Huaijin didn’t explain further. Instead, she pointed toward a roll of floral-patterned plastic sheeting in the corner.
“I’ll take that too.”
By the end, Su Huaijin had practically swept half the store’s inventory clean.
There was so much stuff she couldn’t possibly carry it all herself.
Luckily, an old farmer delivering vegetables with a donkey cart happened to be outside. Without hesitation, Su Huaijin pulled out two White Rabbit milk candies and smiled brightly.
“Grandpa, could you help me haul these to the family compound?”
The old man looked at the precious candies in his hand and grinned so hard every wrinkle on his face bloomed.
“Sure! Forget the family compound—I’d haul it all the way to Beijing for ya!”
…
And so, the wives in the family compound witnessed yet another shocking scene.
The legendary “delicate commander’s wife who couldn’t carry or lift anything” was now directing a donkey cart piled high like a mountain.
“What’s she trying to do? Stop living altogether?” Liu Guihua stood at her doorway cracking sunflower seeds and speaking sourly.
“I bet she just can’t stand this hard life and is shopping to vent,” Sister Zhang chimed in.
But over the next two days, Su Huaijin thoroughly slapped them in the face with her actions.
She shut herself inside and began renovating the tiny courtyard home.
She folded old newspapers into a makeshift hat, pulled on work gloves, mixed water with lime powder, and got to work.
Bucket after bucket of whitewash was carried into the room.
Though they were so heavy her teeth clenched from the strain, though lime water splashed across her face, though she nearly slipped multiple times—she never once complained.
She moved the furniture aside, climbed onto a stool, and started painting from the ceiling.
Stroke by stroke.
The yellowed, peeling walls disappeared beneath fresh white lime, and the gloomy room slowly brightened.
She was building Cheng Beitang a home.
After finishing the walls, she pulled out a sewing kit.
The “defective white cotton fabric” the saleswoman had mocked had loose threads in places and stains in others.
But in Su Huaijin’s hands, none of that mattered.
She cut away the stained sections and embroidered tiny daisies over the loose stitching.
Snip, snip.
Scissors flew while needle and thread danced through the fabric.
She was the talented beauty of the art department—this kind of handicraft was child’s play for her.
…
By the evening of the third day—
The setting sun dyed the Gobi Desert golden-red.
Su Huaijin opened the window to air out the last traces of paint smell.
Standing in the middle of the room, she admired her masterpiece and wiped the sweat from her forehead with satisfaction.
The once gloomy, filthy bachelor’s quarters filled with the smell of sweat had been completely transformed.
The walls were now snow white, carrying a fresh, clean atmosphere.
The hard wooden bed had been moved beside the window. Spread across it was a light blue plaid bedsheet she had sewn herself from homespun fabric, with matching pillowcases. Beside the bed sat a vase made from an old glass jar, holding several purple wildflowers she’d picked from the roadside.
The wobbly table missing a leg had been stabilized. Over it she spread a spotless white tablecloth made from the defective fabric—and she had even crocheted lace trim around the edges!
But the most impressive part was the curtains.
Originally, an old newspaper had hung over the window.
Now, it had been replaced with the floral plastic sheet she’d cut into soft wave patterns, tied back with bows made from leftover fabric strips.
As the sunset filtered through the floral curtains, the whole room glowed with a warm golden softness.
This wasn’t a dormitory anymore.
It was a bridal room.
“Haaah… this young lady is exhausted.”
Su Huaijin rubbed her aching waist and collapsed onto the now-soft-looking bed.
She was tired, but incredibly pleased with herself.
She could already imagine Cheng Beitang’s dumbfounded expression when he came back.
“Oh right, there’s still this!”
Suddenly remembering something, Su Huaijin pulled a dress out from under the pillow.
It was a dress she had made for herself using the leftover dark blue cotton fabric.
The fashionable dresses of the era were mostly loose and shapeless, unable to show off a woman’s figure. Following a “French vintage” style, Su Huaijin had tailored herself a square-neck puff-sleeve dress.
The fitted waist and A-line skirt made it practical for work while emphasizing her slim waist and long legs.
She changed into it and looked at herself in the mirror.
The woman reflected there had bright eyes, white teeth, and skin like snow. The deep blue dress made her complexion appear even fairer, while the square neckline revealed delicate collarbones. Even the faint mosquito bites on her neck had almost disappeared.
“Perfect.”
Snapping her fingers, Su Huaijin grabbed her pink washbasin and headed out to fetch water.
The moment she stepped outside—
She ran straight into the wives returning home from work.
“Hiss—”
A chorus of sharp inhalations sounded.
If Su Huaijin had looked like an out-of-place fairy when she first arrived, then now, wearing this beautifully tailored dress that was both simple and fashionable, she looked like a glamorous movie star stepping out of a magazine.
Even Liu Guihua, who had never liked her, stared blankly.
“Th-that dress… what is it? New stock from the supply store?” Liu Guihua couldn’t help asking.
Stopping in her tracks, Su Huaijin spun gracefully, her skirt fluttering.
“Sister-in-law, I made it myself. The fabric’s just that discounted homespun cloth I bought at the supply store the other day—the fifty-cent-per-foot kind.”
“What?!”
Everyone was stunned.
That cheap homespun fabric? The stuff people wouldn’t even use to make men’s underwear? How did it look like expensive synthetic fabric when worn by her?
“Little sister, your hands are way too skilled!”
“How’d you make the waist look like that? It makes you look so slim!”
Several younger wives rushed over, their eyes filled with admiration and curiosity.
After all, what woman didn’t love looking beautiful?
Su Huaijin didn’t put on airs at all. Smiling warmly, she pointed at a hidden pleat at her waist.
“It’s actually simple. Add two extra pleats here and raise the waistline slightly. It makes the legs look longer. If any of you want to learn, bring fabric to my house another day and I’ll teach you.”
“Really?! Oh, that’s wonderful!”
“Su, you’re such a nice person! We really misunderstood you before!”
In just a few moments, Su Huaijin won over a wave of goodwill with her incredible sewing skills and ability to turn worthless materials into treasures.
That was the power of real capability.
In this era, a woman who was skillful and knew how to manage a household earned respect wherever she went.
Watching Su Huaijin surrounded by the crowd, Lin Xue—who had just returned from the performing arts troupe—tightened her grip on the lunch box in her hands so hard her nails nearly snapped.
She looked at Su Huaijin’s dazzlingly beautiful face, then down at her own plain military uniform, and jealousy spread through her heart like poisonous weeds.
“What’s there to be proud of… just a seductress who knows how to dress herself up.”
Grinding her teeth, Lin Xue’s eyes turned venomous.
“Once news comes from Beijing, let’s see if you can still smile then!”