Jiang Hongguo had her own concerns. The child in her womb was only just conceived. That dreams could let her experience real events while asleep—could this even be a normal pregnancy?
Auntie Liu urged multiple times, but Hongguo’s worry left her silent. Fortunately, Liu’s youngest son returned for winter break. With the girls grown, Auntie Liu happily let Hongguo go without hospital checks, only reminding her to start preparing New Year goods.
Hongguo had once loved salted meat and fish, braised pig’s trotters and intestines, eagerly anticipating these treats for the New Year. Salted meat could last until spring—sliced thin, stir-fried with garlic shoots or vegetable shoots, delicious. Thinking of it now, however, made her slightly sick of it. She preferred fresh flavors; Changzong disliked salted foods, so she skipped them altogether.
Still, New Year required preparation. She mixed seven parts lean meat to three parts fat, minced it, added some flour, and made meatballs.
Winter gardens had abundant cabbage and radish. She minced some for vegetable-filled balls—radish and cabbage varieties. In the past two years of household deliveries, they had enough homegrown oil. She heated the oil and fried the meatballs. The first batch was a large bowl; Hongguo ate ten, and Changzong finished the rest, completely satisfied.
“Guoguo, these meatballs are delicious. Tomorrow, I’ll buy ten more pounds of meat to fry more,” Changzong said.
Freshly fried meat delighted him; he would also enjoy fresh fish balls. Hongguo suggested buying a large grass carp to make fish balls.
The second batch—radish and cabbage balls—surprised Changzong. Ordinary vegetables, minced, shaped, and fried—they tasted even better than stir-fried.
Jiang Hongguo and Gu Changzong experimented some more, making lotus root balls and sweet potato balls. Hongguo ate several sweet potato balls—Changzong noted carefully that these were her favorites.
Changzong couldn’t wait until tomorrow to go buy supplies in the county town. He suggested catching a large grass carp with some dried fish, but Hongguo refused—winter fishing for a big carp would raise suspicion. Obedient as always, Changzong didn’t go. There wasn’t much to do at home anyway; farm work had long stopped, and two stacks of firewood would last through the spring.
Hongguo lounged under the eaves, basking in the sun, while Changzong dug through wood in the yard, planning to make a small bed and a walker for the baby. He picked up carpentry quickly; before Meng Qingdai had come to live with them, he’d learned some skills from a carpenter. Now he could make a proper bed for the child.
It was fortunate Changzong stayed home that afternoon. Otherwise, when the village elders came to urge him to return to care for his grandfather, Hongguo would have had to handle it alone—a tiring task.
The elder couple came to insist he return, citing his grandfather’s poor health and hoping he would accompany them for the New Year. Hongguo’s greatest concern finally arrived: the question of whether Changzong would go back. For six months, he had never mentioned returning, and his relatives hadn’t contacted them either. She had been avoiding thinking about it day by day.
Now, however, no matter how much Changzong had changed, his city relatives hadn’t. Some matters had to be faced. With his uncle and aunt personally arriving, Hongguo realized they should at least make a brief visit.
Changzong, however, refused with a calm demeanor:
“I’ve already cut ties with my grandmother. After my grandfather called me weak, there’s no way I’d let you come to ask me back. Whatever your purpose, I won’t go. My home is where you are, Guoguo—that’s my family.”
Hongguo, fearing her smile would betray her, lowered her head. He had refused on his own, so she didn’t have to intervene.
The uncle sighed: “I know you’re stubborn. Seeing you well, I’m reassured. We’ll tell your grandfather so he won’t worry. When you feel ready, you can go back to reunite.”
The aunt politely added, “I didn’t know Guoguo is pregnant. I haven’t brought supplements, but this first meeting, you must accept this red envelope.”
Hongguo pinched it—it was twenty or thirty yuan. They were polite, so she politely accepted. It was dark, and no buses were running back to the county.
Hongguo decided they would stay overnight: “Uncle, aunt, stay here tonight. Tomorrow morning, Changzong will drive you to the county on the village tractor.”
Changzong made up the spare room with bedding and asked Hongguo, “Why keep them overnight? I could’ve taken them tonight. Don’t you realize these two are hypocritical? Their words and expressions don’t match, they can’t even pretend properly.”
Hongguo said, “We’ll pretend too. Otherwise, they’ll complain we didn’t host them despite traveling so far. Let’s give them a chance to save face.”
Changzong didn’t want to go back anyway, so they followed Hongguo’s plan.
That evening, the aunt sat on the newly laid bedding, stroking the soft cotton. She marveled at how well the rural couple had it, considering Changzong had married in from the city.
Holding Hongguo’s hand, she said, “Your little home is wonderful! Where did the money come from—furniture, new bedding?”
Hongguo couldn’t answer casually. She had anticipated this, having made a few hundred yuan from selling flatbreads over a couple of months. She mentioned the stall business but avoided specifics, saying it earned a bit more than city office work.
“Rural life isn’t like the old collective days. Now everyone works individually, earning as they labor. With enough rice, flour, and oil, and some cotton from our own fields, making a few extra quilts or clothes is feasible,” she explained.
The aunt admired them: “You two are so capable, living well—no wonder Changzong doesn’t want to go back.”
Hongguo didn’t fully trust their words. Their visit had an agenda, but she didn’t press it. Changzong didn’t want to go back, so she left it at that. Tomorrow morning, they’d send them off.
Changzong had also finished talking with his uncle. “Guoguo, hot water’s ready. Time to wash up,” he said.
Used to his care, Hongguo usually got carried to the bedroom after bathing. With relatives staying, she sent him away before washing, telling him no carrying today.
Changzong, annoyed by the unexpected guests, complied.
The uncle and aunt were in the kitchen washing up, but Hongguo and Changzong could still hear faint sounds at the door. Curious, Changzong eavesdropped, and Hongguo was happy to join.
They heard the elders muttering, thinking Changzong must have been miserable and unwilling to stay, expecting him to yield. But seeing him skilled at carpentry, cooking, caring for his wife, and even selling flatbreads—so much for saving face for his grandmother—they were frustrated.
The conversation was dull, making Hongguo sleepy. Changzong quietly carried her to bed. She took the chance to count the red envelope: thirty yuan—half a month’s wages for city workers. Not insignificant, but she and Changzong, having earned money from stalls, weren’t shocked by the amount.
The next morning, breakfast was ready. Changzong even squeezed toothpaste for Hongguo to brush before eating—making his uncle frown.
The aunt complimented, “Guoguo, Changzong truly loves you. I didn’t expect him to become so caring. No trace of his old macho ways.”
Hongguo hurriedly packed leftover meatballs for them to take home: “All homemade—better than store-bought.”
Her aunt marveled—after just two or three years since land reform, rural life could outshine the city, and small stalls could earn so well. Hongguo didn’t envy; she knew as long as Changzong stayed, her stepmother’s inheritance would eventually go to him.
Changzong took the tractor for a short errand. Hongguo hurried after him to the village office. He was fixing the tractor—it wouldn’t start, but he managed to repair it.
She ran back to fetch her uncle and aunt. At the door, she overheard:
“Good he won’t go back. He cut ties himself, won’t see his grandmother, and when your stepmother dies, her estate will go to your father. After abandoning wife and child for years, he finally acted right in his old age.”
Her uncle cautioned, “Walls have ears—say more at home.”
Wasn’t it the step-grandfather sick, not the grandmother?
Hongguo didn’t linger, didn’t knock, and returned with Changzong. They sent the uncle and aunt to the county, then went shopping for meat and fish. Back home, Changzong minced the meat while she took a nap, dreaming again—this time seeing events they hadn’t witnessed before.
Perhaps it was the child in her womb, helping them avoid misfortune.
Hongguo touched her flat belly, deciding to spend New Year at Changzong’s family, quickly preparing and setting out.