Before her eyes was a broad, imposing expanse of black. The black clothing was stretched taut, faintly revealing firm chest muscles beneath. Lin Cui’s head struck the man’s chest as if hitting a mountain—hard and unyielding, impossible to budge even a fraction.
Looking up again, a sharp jawline was the first thing to greet her eyes, carrying an innate coldness and indifference. The cold, hard face seemed both unfamiliar and familiar. Not recognizing this person, Lin Cui hurriedly apologized and continued rushing toward the brigade captain’s house.
Perhaps it was some relative of a brigade family coming to visit. Lin Cui didn’t give the mountain-like man much thought, only sighing inwardly that this person was truly tall.
Sun Weiguo, the brigade captain of Red Star Production Brigade, had just taken people to visit the promising Battalion Commander Wan Decai and returned home. After chatting a few more words with Wan Feng—the only son of Wan Lao Da who’d been missing for five years and had just been found—he’d just seen Wan Feng off. Who would have thought that right after, Lin Fugui’s youngest daughter would come knocking?
“Uncle Weiguo.” Lin Cui used her own father as a pretext and handed over the tobacco leaves she’d carried the whole way. “My dad’s tobacco leaves have been dried and are just about ready. I heard you like to smoke, so he told me to bring you some. Also, he’d like to invite you to our home for a meal and to sit for a while.”
Sun Weiguo loved his pipe tobacco best. Hearing Lin Cui’s words, his right hand had already instinctively reached for the pipe tied at his waist. There wasn’t much tobacco left in it, and certainly nothing as good as what Lin Fugui dried.
“I’ve always been fond of your father’s craftsmanship. I’ll accept these. I’ll come by to sit in a bit.” Sun Weiguo held the five strands of golden-dried tobacco leaves and took a deep sniff. Amid the scent flooding his nostrils, he caught a glimpse of Lin Cui’s departing figure. How could he not understand this young girl’s intentions?
Wan Decai had returned as a promoted battalion commander. That engagement from three years ago had to be honored no matter what. As the brigade captain, he had to be there to witness it.
When Lin Cui arrived home, her family had already finished work and was bustling to get the meal on the table.
Except for Lin Fugui, who’d been temporarily called to the brigade headquarters to help repair the winnowing machine when he got off work—his portion was set aside separately—the seven members of the Lin family sat around the square table. There was a pot of sweet potato porridge, lard-fried cabbage, cold-tossed wild vegetables, pickled salted vegetables, and in the very center, the Lin family’s only meat dish in the past month: tomato scrambled eggs.
Recently, they’d been rushing to plant rice during the busy season, working even at night by kerosene lamp. Without some meat to supplement, everyone’s insides would be starting a revolution.
“Cuicui, how many eggs did you use today? It smells amazing.” Eldest brother Lin Xiang rubbed his face and took a deep breath, struck directly by the domineering sweet-and-sour aroma that hit him head-on.
“Two.” Lin Cui smiled and held up two fingers.
“Whoa, only you could get away with that without getting scolded.” Second brother Lin Wei sighed, his eyes full of craving. “If I used two eggs in a dish, Mom would chase me around scolding for sure.”
No sooner had he spoken than Lin Cui’s mother, Song Chunhua, had already begun scolding with heartache. “You two as older brothers are still egging your sister on! Two eggs in one dish—you’re really living like landlords, none of you know how to run a household!”
The Lin family’s food situation in the brigade was relatively good. At least they earned enough work points. Every year at year’s end when grain was distributed, their share made the whole brigade envious. According to current policy—”seventy percent by population, thirty percent by labor”—70% of the basic grain was distributed equally by population. Each person who completed the basic work points got 30 jin of basic rice per month. The other 30% was distributed as rewards based on work points. The Lin family had ample labor—four people exceeded full work points, and the daughters-in-law could also earn five or six points a day. Over a year, they could earn over a hundred bonus work points, with each work point rewarded as one jin of grain.
At last year’s year-end grain accounting, when the brigade scorekeeper announced the Lin family’s total allocation of 306 jin of rice, who around them wasn’t envious? After all, many families had few members and even fewer laborers who could earn full work points. Getting a hundred-odd jin of grain in a year was already considered good. Truly, comparing people was enough to make you die of envy.
Compared to most other families, where the porridge was so watery you couldn’t fish out a few grains of rice, the Lin family’s sweet potato porridge was much thicker—fragrant and soft.
But Song Chunhua, who managed the household and the grain, was still reluctant to part with it—and even more reluctant to part with the precious eggs. Hearing that two eggs had been used in one meal, she naturally felt the pain.
After all, since the people’s commune was established, every household could only eat from the communal pot, working in the fields every day to earn work points and waiting for year-end grain distribution. Raising chickens, ducks, pigs, and fish on a large private scale was not allowed. The Lin family’s eggs all came from the policy that each household could only raise three chickens. The chickens were too precious to slaughter, so the eggs were naturally even more precious. Even seeing meat once or twice a month was a good day.
Especially recently, with the chicken thieves causing trouble—seven or eight households within ten li and eight villages had been victimized. Who wouldn’t hate them?
Lin Cui knew her mother was only sharp-tongued. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have steamed eggs for her every few days, and even stuffed a boiled egg into her pocket this morning. This was treatment not even her two older brothers or little Xiaobao received. She quickly moved to rub Song Chunhua’s chest to soothe her. “Mom, the old hen laid two eggs this morning. I just took two from the basket to cook. In the end, doesn’t that mean we didn’t lose a single egg today? Don’t feel bad.”
Song Chunhua’s brain almost couldn’t keep up. After a few seconds of reaction, she laughed and scolded affectionately, “You girl—you have no other skills, just a glib tongue. When you marry into someone’s family in the future, don’t let your in-laws dislike you for it…”
She said that, but Song Chunhua was actually worried her daughter would suffer after marrying.
“That Wan family—I don’t know what’s going on with them. There’s been no movement at all.” Logically, Wan Decai had returned to the village, and half a day was enough for a family reunion. If the Wan family knew any propriety, they should have come to touch base with their prospective in-laws by now. “I used to think the Wan family was quite good at handling things, but now it seems they’re not up to much.”
“Mom, it doesn’t matter. If they don’t come, we’ll go over.” Second brother Lin Wei wasn’t clear on the Wan family’s attitude either, but going directly to ask was the way.
“What nonsense are you spouting!” Song Chunhua shot her son a glare. “With your approach, you’d ruin any good thing, and then people would be gossiping behind our backs for nothing.”
Though her mouth kept chattering, Song Chunhua’s actions were straightforward. She picked up a chopstick full of eggs and put them in Lin Cui’s and her grandson Xiaobao’s bowls, letting her youngest daughter and only grandchild get some good nourishment.
A full chopstick of eggs—golden, soft, and tender—accompanied by the enticing aroma of eggs. It instantly eased the panicky feeling of not having seen meat for so long.
After the meal, while the eldest sister-in-law was washing dishes and cleaning up, Lin Cui stood in the courtyard looking into the distance. Before long, several figures appeared in her line of sight from afar. The Wan family had indeed come, just as in the book’s plot—on the evening of Wan Decai’s return to the village.
Amid second brother Lin’s joyful announcement, everyone in the Lin family beamed with smiles. Only Lin Cui knew the truth—the Wan family was here to break off the engagement, not to fulfill the marriage contract from three years ago.
“Come in quickly, sit down. Our Fugui was called by the brigade headquarters to repair the winnowing machine—no telling when he’ll be back.” Song Chunhua greeted them with a smile, quickly urging her eldest and second sons to keep them company. Finally, she didn’t forget to give her youngest daughter a chance to shine. “Cuicui, brew a pot of tea for your Uncle Wan, Auntie Guiying, and Brother Decai. Use the tea cake we bought at the supply and marketing cooperative when we went to town for the market the day before yesterday.”
“Got it, Mom.” Lin Cui knew why the Wan family had come, but she didn’t show it. Only when she went to her parents’ room to look for tea leaves did she take out the slightly inferior tea from the flat cabinet, not touching the good tea bought in town half a month ago.
The tea commonly drunk in the village was all old tea—slightly bitter and astringent, bland on the tongue, with a not particularly rich fragrance. In a village where resources weren’t plentiful, it was already considered decent. The Pu’er tea cake bought from the town’s supply and marketing cooperative was different. Tea coupons were hard to come by. The Lin family had traded three eggs for it and spent another two jiao to buy a tea cake. Lin Fugui usually couldn’t bear to drink it—it was specially kept for entertaining guests and keeping up appearances.
Since the people had come to break off the engagement, Lin Cui naturally wasn’t going to be so generous. She carried three cups of tea with only a few stray old tea leaves floating in them back to the main hall, her expression unchanged. “Uncle Wan, Auntie Guiying, Battalion Commander Wan, please have some tea.”
Wan Decai’s parents were over fifty. Their youngest son, Wan Decai, was just in his early twenties—upright posture, full of vigor. Truly worthy of being Red Star Production Team’s most promising man.
Lin Cui’s gaze swept over him lightly, but she paid him no mind. Only when she withdrew her gaze did she glance at the area outside, estimating when the brigade captain and Matchmaker Hongmei would arrive.
“Ah.” Wang Guiying glanced at the not-so-fragrant tea and felt a touch of disdain. After all, the marriage prospect her son now favored had also come along, bringing two cans of malted milk, a box of Golden Rooster biscuits, and five chi of cloth as gifts right upon entering. In comparison, Wang Guiying naturally didn’t think much of the impoverished Lin family. “Look at how clever Cuicui is—she’s truly pretty.”
The Lin family’s circumstances couldn’t compare to the military political commissar’s family, but as Wang Guiying studied Lin Cui carefully, she had to admit Lin Cui was truly beautiful.
Because of the Lin family’s pampering, Lin Cui had never worked in the fields from childhood to adulthood. In an era when everyone was sallow and gaunt, Lin Cui was fair and tender, her face clean and bright as if water could be wrung from it. Her eyes, nose, and mouth were all well-formed. Wang Guiying’s education level wasn’t high—she hadn’t read many books—she only knew that within ten li and eight villages, you couldn’t find a girl prettier than her.
Unfortunately, the Lin family couldn’t compare to her son’s political commissar family. Lin Cui was pretty, but her education level couldn’t match the political commissar’s daughter’s university diploma. Not to mention, the Lin family was of no help to her son’s future.
A burning gaze full of inquiry and deep thought swept over her. How could Lin Cui not notice? But she acted as if nothing were amiss, only waiting for the Wan family to speak.
His dark, calloused hands cradling the teacup, Wan Decai’s father said not a word, only burying his head in his tea. Wan Decai, who was initiating the break up, also found it hard to bring up. The father and son tacitly tossed the troublesome matter to Wang Guiying.
Their family wasn’t handling this honorably, but someone had to speak. After a few simple pleasantries, Wang Guiying used the pretext of praising Lin Cui to get straight to the point. “Chunhua, Cuicui grows more lovely by the day. Everyone who sees her is delighted. Whoever marries Cuicui in the future will be truly fortunate.”
When the prospective in-laws who’d arranged the engagement said these words, the Lin family in the main hall couldn’t help but freeze. Anyone could hear something was off.
Eldest brother Lin’s face darkened. Second brother Lin scratched his head in confusion. Only Song Chunhua couldn’t be bothered to play riddles with her. Her face sank as she asked bluntly, “Guiying, what do you mean by that?”
Wang Guiying gave an awkward laugh, then decided to go all in. “That’s exactly what I mean. Three years ago, Old Wan and I came to arrange the engagement for Decai. At the time, Decai hadn’t even returned to the village. We set it up without consulting his wishes and only informed him afterward. So to speak, it was a feudal arranged marriage. These days, free love is the trend. We can’t be too feudal… Chunhua, I know Cuicui is a good girl. Within ten li and eight villages, there’s no one prettier than her. She definitely won’t have trouble finding a husband… Aiyo! Song Chunhua, why are you hitting people!”
Before Wang Guiying could finish, a broom came flying through the air.