Hongguo wanted to buy some cheap offal, but everyone was scrambling for it. Seeing the look of distaste in Changzong’s eyes as he glanced at the pig organs and focused only on the streaky pork belly, she gritted her teeth and bought two jin of pork belly instead.
Wang Auntie even gifted her a large bone. There wasn’t much meat on it, but if you chopped it up and simmered it with white radish, the broth would be fragrant—and the marrow inside was delicious too. Hongguo accepted it like treasure, thanking her repeatedly.
It was still early. Changzong said he would go to the county town to buy lotus root to make sweet braised pork with lotus root. He borrowed the village head’s bicycle. A few families also asked him to bring things back.
Hongguo had a good memory and knew the prices. She told him not to front money for anyone—calculate the total first and collect payment up front. Sister-in-law Wang rolled her eyes and withdrew her request. The type who loved taking advantage—if you helped them once, you’d chase them forever for a few small coins. Better not to bother.
Hongguo asked him to bring back some candied jujubes too. Adding them to the braise would taste even better.
Because he’d helped carry and slaughter the pig, his clothes were dirty. Hongguo took out a set of new clothes she’d made during their period of separation. Seeing that Changzong didn’t overthink it at all made her happy. She told him to change before going to town—when going out, one should look neat and presentable.
Changzong wouldn’t let her wash clothes, saying he’d do it when he returned. That was his way of being good to her. So she wanted to be good to him too—she couldn’t just enjoy without giving.
Before washing clothes, she checked the pockets.
There really was something.
A rolled-up scrap of paper.
When she pulled it out, it unfurled in her hand. She naturally saw the words written clearly:
Meet Gu Changzong at two in the morning, at the small bamboo grove on the back slope.
Signed with a single character:
“Dai.”
Jiang Hongguo was so furious she nearly struck a match and burned the note on the spot.
No matter what reason Meng Qingdai had, she couldn’t drag Changzong into this. Two married young people meeting in a bamboo grove at two in the morning—what decent person would even come up with such a thing?
She lit the match.
The flame flared.
She hesitated… then blew it out.
Changzong probably didn’t know about the note. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have let her discover it. But what if he had seen it? What would he do?
Hongguo slipped the note back into the pocket, put the clothes away, and returned to the room in a low mood.
Dinner was sweet braised pork with lotus root, simmered until tender and sticky, with candied jujubes added. It was delicious—truly delicious—but Hongguo had no appetite. She knew the note had nothing to do with Changzong, yet she simply couldn’t feel happy.
She forced herself to finish the sweet pork, lotus root, and jujubes he placed in her bowl, then shook her head.
“Changzong, I’m full.”
Gu Changzong ate a few more pieces himself. The taste was even better than at the banquet. Why had she stopped eating?
“I’ll boil water for your bath.”
Hongguo nodded. Her nose stung. Tears threatened to fall. She hurriedly said, “Changzong… hug me.”
He immediately came over and gently pulled her into his arms. Had something happened while he was out that afternoon to make her this upset?
Hongguo wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. He was so good. No matter which girl he married, she would be happy. But if she changed husbands… would she ever be this happy again?
She didn’t think so.
That night she had a nightmare.
In it, the old Educated Youth Gu—the one who had insisted on sleeping separately—came back. Not only did he resume living apart, he went to find Meng Qingdai. In the dream, Hongguo sobbed; in reality, she was crying in her sleep.
Gu Changzong panicked. “Guoguo, wake up.” If she woke up, the nightmare would stop.
Half-asleep, she murmured, “Changzong… what time is it?”
“Two o’clock.” In the dark, he glanced at the pendulum clock that always ran half an hour slow and mentally added thirty minutes.
Hongguo didn’t open her eyes. Instinctively, she stretched out her arm, closed the gap between them, and clutched his waist tightly before sinking back into deep sleep.
Changzong held her just as tightly. He truly wanted to know what had happened at home while he’d been gone.
….
The next morning, Hongguo was still sleeping soundly. Changzong rose quietly, made breakfast, and washed the clothes he’d changed out of the day before. She hadn’t eaten well last night, nor slept well. He had no heart for anything else—he only wanted to stay with her.
He reached into the trouser pocket and pulled out the crumpled note.
After reading it, his lips pressed into a thin line.
So that was why Guoguo hadn’t eaten… why her tears had soaked into his shoulder.
His expression turned cold. He held the note toward the stove mouth—then withdrew it.
…
Hongguo ate pumpkin porridge for breakfast. The pumpkin had melted into the rice, sweet and fragrant. She finished a large bowl. She saw that Changzong had washed the clothes but kept her head down and said nothing.
However he chose to handle the note, she would pretend not to know.
“Guoguo, I’m going to the county today to look for some odd jobs.”
Odd jobs paid more than farming. Work wasn’t easy to find—otherwise the hardworking men in the village would all have gone. Hongguo didn’t know how Changzong managed to find work every time.
“Guoguo, find a time today to return this note to Wang Auntie’s youngest daughter-in-law. Tell her I’ve read it. It wouldn’t be convenient for me to return it myself. Once you give it back, she won’t bother us again.”
He handed her the paper ball, saying he’d found it while washing clothes that morning. Even if he’d seen it yesterday, he added, he wouldn’t have gone out last night.
Hongguo’s cheeks flushed with shame. She hadn’t eaten properly and had cried herself to sleep—he must have known she’d seen the note.
Her head lowered even further. Suddenly she worried she might have delayed something important. Meng Qingdai clearly liked Kong Laosan. What if she’d sought Changzong for a legitimate matter?
She suddenly looked up. “Changzong, what if Sister Qingdai had something urgent? Maybe you should go. I’ll go with you.”
He smiled. “Even if she had the biggest matter in the world, what does it have to do with me? I’m not going.”
A sweet warmth filled Hongguo’s heart. In the future, she wouldn’t doubt him so easily.
That morning, she went with Auntie Liu to Wang Auntie’s house and found a chance to secretly return the note to Meng Qingdai, saying Gu Changzong had asked her to.
“I tried persuading him. He said no matter how big your problem is, it’s not appropriate to look for him. If you have something to discuss, you should talk with your family.”
Meng Qingdai sighed. “Hongguo, it’s not what you think.”
Then what was it? She didn’t say. Hongguo had no way of knowing. In any case, if Changzong said to ignore it, he must have his reasons.
That evening, Changzong returned and said he’d earned over one yuan. He hadn’t bought meat—he’d saved the money for her.
After that, on weekends he continued going to the county for odd jobs. In a month, he handed Hongguo more than ten yuan. That was a lot. A city worker only earned thirty or forty a month. They lived in the countryside; grain and vegetables came from their own fields. To save over ten yuan a month was significant.
So when Auntie Liu came to discuss Wang Auntie’s request to borrow money, Hongguo felt she had some confidence—though Auntie Liu looked troubled.
“Neighbors should help neighbors. Wang Auntie asked me to lend five yuan. In principle I should, but my family truly doesn’t have it. If you have some, Hongguo, could you front it for me? Once we sell the autumn grain, I’ll repay you first.”
Wang Auntie had been hospitalized—an emergency. Auntie Liu was embarrassed to admit she had no money, afraid Wang Auntie wouldn’t believe her and their neighborly relations would suffer. So she asked Hongguo to temporarily cover it.
She’d also seen that Gu Changzong had been doing odd jobs and guessed Hongguo might have money.
Hongguo went inside and brought out five yuan. If one could help, one should. But she couldn’t understand—just last month Wang Auntie’s family had found that wild boar and sold it for over seventy yuan. How were they out of money already?
“What did they spend it on?”
Auntie Liu leaned close and whispered, “Buying a job for Kong Laosan. Not just the boar money—they threw in years of savings too. A bottomless pit. The two daughters-in-law are making trouble again. This time, the household will probably really split.”
Buying a job? As if it were that easy. In the city, countless young people waited to inherit their parents’ positions. She’d heard that even educated youths who’d returned to the city in recent years hadn’t all been assigned work yet. How could rural farmers without city registration buy urban jobs? It sounded like a scam.
After Wang Auntie was discharged, her two elder daughters-in-law pushed their husbands to split the household. Wang Auntie and her husband moved in with the youngest son and daughter-in-law, giving the three brick rooms to the elder sons. They repaired the old woodshed to live in. It looked pitiful.
But after the split, Meng Qingdai’s luck was astonishing. Every few days she found something—wild pheasant eggs, wild gastrodia to sell. Just when her sisters-in-law were green with envy, she dug up a wild mountain ginseng and sold it for over one hundred yuan.
News like that couldn’t be hidden. Once one person knew, everyone did. Wang Auntie came to repay Auntie Liu’s five yuan, bringing a jin of pork as thanks. She chatted for a long time.
“What kind of fortune do I have to marry such a prosperity-bringing daughter-in-law? The elder two even wanted a share of the ginseng money. When they demanded to split the house, they didn’t look this flattering. I scolded them off. From now on, I’ll live with Laosan and his wife.”
Even Auntie Liu felt envious of such luck. She cooked the entire jin of pork at noon and sent Hongguo a small bowl. Half admiring, half jealous, she later invited Hongguo to Wang Auntie’s to inquire further.
They sat in the courtyard chatting while sewing shoe soles. Wang Auntie was already dreaming aloud—if her youngest daughter-in-law dug up a few more ginseng roots, they could build three tiled-roof rooms.
Hongguo strongly disagreed. Hearing Wang Auntie speak as if this were certain, she couldn’t keep listening. How could one pin prosperity entirely on Qingdai’s luck?
It had been at least ten years since anyone in the village found wild ginseng. Finding one was good fortune—but to dream of building houses off digging ginseng?
She made an excuse to leave and circled toward the back slope.
There she heard Kong Laosan pleading with Meng Qingdai.
“Wife, you’re my heart. For you, I have to secure that city job so you can eat state grain. You’re so lucky—let’s go back to the mountains and find a few more ginseng roots. Then we’ll have everything.”
Meng Qingdai sounded troubled, saying luck didn’t come twice so easily. Kong Laosan hugged and kissed her, pleading shamelessly. It was enough to make passersby blush. Hongguo dared not listen further and hurried home.
At home, Gu Changzong was ladling water, washing a complete wild ginseng thicker than her thumb.
Hongguo jumped in fright.
“Changzong—where did this ginseng come from?”
He casually flicked off the water droplets as if he’d just pulled a radish from the vegetable patch.
“Guoguo, I heard this thing sells for money, so I went into the mountains and found one. We’d better not tell anyone. We’ll sell it quietly.”