Zhao Cuifeng dragged Lin Baozong along as they trudged through the snow-covered commune courtyard, their boots sinking deep with every heavy step.
Lin Baozong plopped straight down onto the steps in front of the gatekeeper’s guardhouse. He slapped the snow off his trousers, panting heavily.
“Mom, I can’t take another step! I can’t even feel my toes anymore.”
Zhao Cuifeng yanked him up by his collar, her spit nearly flying into his face. “You useless coward! What time do you think it is? And you’re still worrying about your damn feet?”
“The counter at the supply and marketing coop was locked up tight by Big Sis,” Lin Baozong stammered, shrinking his neck back, his eyes full of irritation. “Even if we get the stamp, what’s the point if we can’t get inside?”
Zhao Cuifeng spat onto the snow and pressed her right hand firmly against her chest. Tucked against her bare skin was that relinquish agreement, radiating a damp chill—a mix of either red stamp ink or melted snow water.
“So what if she locked the counter? Can she lock up the official stamp of the commune?” she growled. “Once that red seal hits the paper, Lin Wanshuang can talk till she’s blue in the face—she’s still gonna pack her bags and get the hell out!”
With a raspy creak, the wooden door of the guardhouse swung open, revealing a wrinkled old face.
Comrade Zhang, the gatekeeper, was draped in a thick military overcoat, holding an enamel mug. He squinted out at the mother and son with a crooked look.
“What’s all the racket? In this freezing cold, you think the commune courtyard is your personal playground to throw a fit?”
Zhao Cuifeng instantly put on a flattering smile, dusted the snow off her coat, and shuffled forward. “Comrade Zhang, so sorry to bother you! We’re from Lin Village, here to see Director Wang on an urgent matter.”
Old Zhang took a sip of hot water, exhaling a plume of white vapor. “The Director’s not here. He went to a meeting at the irrigation station behind the commune. Come back another day.”
“Another day? Absolutely not!” Zhao Cuifeng panicked, taking a giant step right into the warm guardhouse. The sudden gust of hot air hit her, making her shiver instead. “Comrade Zhang, this is a matter of life and death! My son has to get his job at the coop finalized today.”
Old Zhang swept a gaze over Lin Baozong’s cowering, spineless posture, a flicker of disgust passing through his eyes. “A job at the supply and marketing coop? Isn’t Lin Wanshuang doing just fine there? Why is it being given to him?”
“The girl gave it up voluntarily! She wrote the note herself and even stamped her thumbprint on it.” Eager to make her point, Zhao Cuifeng reached into her coat to pull out the rough yellow paper.
Old Zhang waved his hand dismissively and set his enamel mug heavily onto the table. “Alright, don’t bother showing it to me. I’m just the gatekeeper, none of this is my business.”
“Then when will Director Wang be back?” Lin Baozong couldn’t help chiming in. He genuinely didn’t want to freeze to death outside.
“If he’s fast, fifteen minutes. If he’s slow, hard to say.” Old Zhang pulled over a long wooden bench, sat down, and picked up a newspaper from the side before adding, “Besides, the power’s out at the commune today. Even if you manage to wait for the Director, you won’t get that stamp pressed.”
Zhao Cuifeng felt a loud buzzing in her head. She lunged forward and grabbed Old Zhang’s sleeve. “A power outage? It’s broad daylight—what does a power outage have to do with getting a stamp?”
“What does it have to do with it?” Old Zhang yanked his sleeve back, his tone laced with impatience. “The official commune stamp is locked inside the iron safe at the Armed Forces Department. That safe has a combination lock, and without electricity, you can’t see the numbers on the dial—nobody can open it. On top of that, transferring a post requires cross-checking the commune’s master archives. The archives room is pitch black; how are you supposed to find anything without lighting a lamp?”
Zhao Cuifeng’s face instantly drained of color, turning whiter than the snow on the ground.
She had never imagined that after coming all this way, she would be stymied by a mere power outage at the final stretch.
She subconsciously touched her chest. Baked by her body heat, the paper felt increasingly damp.
Suddenly, the scene of Lin Wanshuang signing the note flashed through her mind.
Back then, that girl had kept her head down, tears dripping down her cheeks pattern by pattern, looking genuinely wronged and helpless. But looking back now… when that girl signed the paper, her hand was rock-steady. It hadn’t trembled even once.
An inexplicable chill crept into Zhao Cuifeng’s heart.
That wretched girl… Today at the coop, her mouth had been full of talk about “hooliganism” and “counter-revolutionary acts,” and then she went ahead and locked the counter.
When did that former punching bag—who couldn’t squeeze out a word even after three lashes—become so sharp-tongued and fierce?
Could it be that the wretched girl knew all along there would be a power outage today, and deliberately dragged things out to waste their time at the coop?
“Mom, why don’t we just go home first? It’ll be the same if we come back tomorrow,” Lin Baozong tugged at Zhao Cuifeng’s hem, his voice laced with timid hesitation. “Lin Wanshuang was right. If I mess up the state’s accounts, I could go to jail. I don’t even know how to use an abacus! If something really goes wrong and they paste a big-character poster about me in the village, how am I ever going to find a wife?”
Zhao Cuifeng whipped her head around and slapped Lin Baozong hard across the forehead.
“You spineless coward! If your older sister can do it, why can’t you? That coop has meat and oil every single day! Once you’re in, our family can eat steamed buns every day! If we come back tomorrow and that wretched girl goes back on her word and rips up the note, then what?”
Lin Baozong ducked his head from the slap and mumbled under his breath, “The note is tucked inside your coat. How could she rip it up?”
“What the hell do you know?!” Zhao Cuifeng gritted her teeth, wishing she could pry her son’s skull open to see if it was filled with porridge.
She had a persistent, bad feeling in her gut. If this wasn’t settled today, she feared they would never get another chance. Lin Wanshuang’s cold, icy eyes felt like needles stabbing into her back, making her skin crawl.
Sitting to the side, Old Zhang watched the mother and son with a quiet sneer.
Zhao Cuifeng of Lin Village was notoriously biased—treating her daughter like a beast of burden while worshipping her son like a lord. Lin Wanshuang was a hard worker at the coop, her accounting was crystal clear, and everyone in the commune praised her for being reliable. If they really swapped her out for Lin Baozong—a lazy, good-for-nothing loafer—the Hongxing Commune coop would be stripped bare by him sooner or later.
“Alright, if you want to wait, go wait outside. Don’t crowd up the guardhouse, you’re in my way.” Old Zhang began shooing them out, making a move to close the door.
Zhao Cuifeng refused to leave, pressing her body stubbornly against the doorframe. “Comrade Zhang, at least let us warm up inside for a bit! It’s freezing with the wind and snow outside; we could freeze to death!”
“The commune has rules. The guardhouse is a duty office, not a homeless shelter.” Old Zhang’s expression darkened, his voice rising a notch.
Seeing Old Zhang lose his temper, Lin Baozong felt intimidated and pulled Zhao Cuifeng backward. “Mom, let’s go hide from the wind over by the water station. Don’t make him mad.”
Zhao Cuifeng glared at her son, but ultimately didn’t dare offend someone from the commune. Reluctantly, she stepped back out.
The heavy door slammed shut behind them with a dull thud.
Instantly, the howling snow and wind wrapped around the mother and son, making them shiver uncontrollably. Zhao Cuifeng stood in the snow, her arms wrapped tightly around her chest, her eyes fixed on the tightly shut iron door of the commune building.
“Mom, when is the power coming back on?” Lin Baozong stomped his feet in the cold, his hands stuffed deep into his sleeves as he huddled into a tight ball.
“Wait! The power will be back on soon!”
Hardly had the words left her mouth when the harsh, ear-splitting roar of a tractor engine rang out from the distance.