Old Mrs. Su’s hands froze in mid-motion.
“Are you serious? Big chunks of pork belly?” A thin, wiry man emerged from the side room—it was Su Jianjun. At the mention of meat, he couldn’t help but swallow his saliva.
“Would I lie to you? The aroma drifted halfway across the village yesterday!” Aunt Zhang curled her lip. “Nianqiu has really made something of herself now. When I asked her to help make a piece of clothing, she demanded two yuan right off the bat. Old sister, I’m not one to gossip, but with Jianguo as the brigade leader, all the perks are going to his daughter. It’s like he doesn’t even consider you.”
These words struck Old Mrs. Su right where it hurt.
Old Mrs. Su flung the soybeans in her hand into the winnowing basket, slapped her thigh, and stood up. “How dare they! I’m not dead yet! The Su family’s money is my money! Jianjun, come with me! Let’s go see that disgraceful, worthless girl!”
Su Jianjun rubbed his hands together and hurried after her. The two of them stormed off toward the west end of the village under the cover of night.
Inside the Su family courtyard.
Su Nianqiu was sitting at the square table in the main room, sketching clothing patterns on old newspaper with a charcoal pencil under the dim glow of a kerosene lamp. After dinner, Li Xiulan and Su Jianguo had taken advantage of the cool evening to water the private plot at the west end of the village, leaving her alone at home. As for the precious malted milk powder and brown sugar, Li Xiulan had long since carefully locked them away in the camphorwood chest in the inner room.
Bang!
The courtyard gate was kicked open, the wooden door slamming against the earthen wall with a dull thud.
Su Nianqiu looked up and saw through the window Old Mrs. Su leading Su Jianjun as they barged into the courtyard with an aggressive air. In the original owner’s memories, there was only deep-seated fear of this grandmother. As a child, the original owner had suffered countless pinches and twists from Old Mrs. Su, never getting a single bite of the good food, which all went into the mouths of Su Jianjun’s children.
Su Nianqiu set down the charcoal pencil, stood up, smoothed the wrinkles on her clothes, and walked out of the main room.
“Grandmother, Uncle.” Su Nianqiu stood on the steps, her voice calm, with no intention of stepping forward to greet them.
Old Mrs. Su sized up Su Nianqiu under the faint light spilling from the house. After a few days apart, this wretched girl hadn’t lost any weight—instead, she looked even more radiant, enough to make one resentful. Her skin was fair with a rosy glow, and though the clothes she wore were old, they were clean and tidy.
“Where are your parents?” Old Mrs. Su asked with a stern face.
“They went to water the private plot,” Su Nianqiu replied.
Old Mrs. Su snorted coldly, ignoring her response entirely. She brushed past Su Nianqiu and headed straight for the kitchen next door, with Su Jianjun close behind.
The two of them barged into the kitchen, and Su Jianjun struck a match to light the kerosene lamp by the stove. Old Mrs. Su lifted the wooden lid of the large iron pot—it was empty. Unwilling to give up, she rummaged through the nearby cupboard.
“Here it is! Mother, it’s here!” Su Jianjun exclaimed in delight.
He pulled out a coarse porcelain basin from the bottom shelf of the cupboard. Inside was half a basin of leftover winter melon and pork rib soup from dinner, topped with a thick layer of congealed white fat. Beside it was another half-basin of steamed white flour buns, at least seven or eight of them.
Old Mrs. Su’s eyes instantly widened, fixed unwaveringly on the basin of meat soup and the white flour buns. In these times, who could afford to eat such rich food and fine grains?
“Fine! Well done, Su Jianguo!” Old Mrs. Su trembled with rage, pointing at the pile of food and cursing loudly. “I’m at home gnawing on sweet potato pancakes, while you’re holed up here eating ribs and white flour! Ungrateful wretch! Unfilial beast! Jianjun, get a basket and take it all away! Bring it back to nourish your nephews!”
Su Jianjun, who had been drooling for a while, immediately reached out to grab the pot containing the rib soup.
A pale hand suddenly appeared, firmly pressing down on the edge of the porcelain pot.
Su Nianqiu stood at the kitchen door, her eyes icy cold.
“Put it down,” Su Nianqiu spoke, uttering just two words.
Su Jianjun was taken aback for a moment, then flew into a rage. “You little brat, how dare you stop me? I’m your elder! You think you have the right to hog all the good food? Get out of the way!”
He yanked hard at the pot, only to find that despite Su Nianqiu’s slender fingers, her strength was surprisingly great. The porcelain pot didn’t budge an inch. After several days of transformation by the Spirit Spring Water, Su Nianqiu’s physique was no longer that of the delicate village girl she once was.
Seeing this, Old Mrs. Su immediately put on her authoritative air as an elder, pointing at Su Nianqiu’s nose and scolding, “You shameless little hussy! After the disgraceful things you’ve done, bringing shame to the entire Su family, you still have the nerve to eat fine grains? All these things belong to the Su family! It’s only right that I take them away! Let go!”
Su Nianqiu let out a light laugh, her fingers still pressed against the edge of the pot.
“The Su family’s? Grandma, have you grown so old that your memory is failing?” Su Nianqiu looked at Old Mrs. Su’s wrinkled face, her tone mocking. “Ten years ago, when the family split, you invited the brigade secretary to witness it in front of the whole village. The three large tiled houses went to Uncle, the two acres of private land went to Uncle, even the pots, pans, and bowls went to Uncle. All my father got were these two leaky thatched huts at the west end of the village and a broken iron pot.”
“The division document clearly states in black and white that the two households are to live separately and have nothing to do with each other. My father gives you two yuan every month for your living expenses, never missing a single cent. Now you come barging into our house in the middle of the night to steal our things. On what grounds?”
Old Mrs. Su, having her past exposed, flushed with embarrassment but immediately resorted to unreasonable arguments. “Even after the split, I’m still your father’s birth mother! Without me, would he even exist? He gets to eat meat while I can’t even have a sip of soup? I’ll report him to the commune for being unfilial!”
“Go ahead and report,” Su Nianqiu withdrew her hand, crossing her arms and looking at her coldly. “Let the commune leaders investigate how many years the brigade leader’s mother should be sentenced for breaking into someone’s house to steal in the middle of the night. Zhao Dazhuang was just sent to the northwest for labor reform a few days ago. If Uncle wants to join him, feel free to take the pot.”
Su Jianjun’s hand trembled, nearly dropping the pot.
The incident with Zhao Dazhuang had spread like wildfire throughout the village. Everyone knew Su Nianqiu was now a formidable figure, capable of sending people to jail with just a few words. Su Jianjun was a bully who preyed on the weak but feared the strong, and he began to feel uneasy.
“Mom, maybe… we shouldn’t take it?” Su Jianjun whispered.
“Useless fool!” Old Mrs. Su slapped him on the back. “How could a little girl like her defy the heavens? I don’t believe she’d dare to arrest her own grandmother!”
Old Mrs. Su shoved Su Jianjun aside and reached for the half-basket of steamed buns herself.
Su Nianqiu’s eyes darkened. Reasoning with such an unreasonable, despicable old woman was useless.
She reached out and grabbed a large iron ladle from the edge of the stove, flicked her wrist, and with a loud “clang,” the ladle struck the rim of the iron pot heavily.
The piercing sound of metal colliding was especially loud in the silent night, causing Old Mrs. Su’s hand to tremble.
“I’ll say this one last time. Put the things down and get out.” Su Nianqiu’s voice wasn’t loud, but the ferocity it carried lowered the temperature in the kitchen by several degrees.
Old Mrs. Su was momentarily stunned by her granddaughter’s gaze. After snapping out of it, she felt her authority had been severely challenged. She sat down on the floor, slapped her thighs with both hands, and began wailing dryly.
“Oh, heavens! There’s no justice! A granddaughter trying to beat her own grandmother to death! Oh, heavens above, open your eyes and see this ungrateful wretch! She’s carrying a bastard child herself, yet she dares to bully her elders!”
Her wails were extremely loud, carrying far in the quiet night, clearly intended to draw the attention of the neighbors.
Su Nianqiu tightened her grip on the iron ladle. She had no intention of holding back any longer. Since this old woman refused to save face, she would make sure the situation escalated completely.
Just as Su Nianqiu was about to drag the old woman out, an angry shout came from outside the courtyard gate.
“You old hag, wailing like you’re at a funeral in the middle of the night! Who are you calling a bastard?”
Li Xiulan, still holding a shovel smeared with wet mud, smelling of earth and with a fierce expression on her face, rushed back from the private plot and stormed into the kitchen.