Recalling that in her past life, Hong Huiying had moved here immediately after the divorce, Zhan Lin stopped hesitating. As far as she knew, in their household, her father handed over his entire monthly salary, keeping only his subsidies for personal use.
She roughly patted down the two quilts, confirmed nothing was hidden inside, then folded them neatly and stuffed them back into the wardrobe. She checked the pockets of the spring and autumn jackets—nothing there either.
She then opened the closet door where winter clothes were hung. There were three woolen coats: one her grandmother had bought for her two years ago, one her sister-in-law had given her after giving birth to Qingqing because it no longer fit, and one her father had brought back for her from Jinling earlier this year. Both the pockets and the linings were empty.
Reaching into the inner pocket of the heavy cotton-padded coat, she felt something. Pulling it out, she found a pair of socks rolled into a ball. Zhan Lin was quite certain she didn’t have the habit of stuffing socks into pockets, regardless of whether they were clean or not.
Unrolling them to check, she confirmed it was indeed a pair of socks, but tucked inside the toe of one was a deposit slip for 500 yuan—Hong Huiying’s.
In the wardrobe, she went through every piece of clothing, thick and thin, not even sparing the underwear. She checked every corner, poking and tapping.
Using a flashlight, she examined the gaps between the wardrobe and the wall and underneath it—nothing but dust. As for the top of the wardrobe, at her height of 167 centimeters, she could barely see it even standing on a stool. Comrade Hong Huiying was half a head shorter than her.
She meticulously searched the bed and the dressing table but found nothing. Underneath the redwood chest stacked on the low cabinet by the bed, she discovered twenty Da Tuanjie bills.
Inside the redwood chest were fabrics her master had given her, which she took out and then put back. The low cabinet drawer was locked, so she went downstairs to fetch her bag. Taking out the key, she unlocked it.
All her savings were here. The passbook showed 1,450 yuan, of which 600 yuan was the dowry her grandfather had allocated to her before his death. Zhan Ke from her second uncle’s family, as well as Wen Xing, Wen Xue, and Wen Yue from her eldest aunt’s family, had all received shares too. Her father had rounded it up to a thousand for her, and the remaining 450 yuan was her own.
Additionally, the drawer contained 80 yuan in loose change, 17 Gongye Quan, 6 Yan Piao (Cigarette Coupons), 3 Jiu Piao (Liquor Coupons), 16 jin of Quanguo Liang Piao (National Grain Coupons), and a stamp album.
Zhan Lin opened the stamp album. The first page featured a blue-background, red-star August First stamp, and her heart skipped a beat.
This “Lan Jun You (Blue Army Stamp)” was given to her by Ning Yunshu’s mother when she and her brother went to play at Ning Yunshu’s house as children. It was also from that time that she developed a fondness for stamp collecting.
She had another album of older stamps, which she had hidden away. Last year, during house renovations, she had buried it along with a few other old items behind the back wall.
She pulled out the drawer and placed all the items she had found so far inside. Having thoroughly searched the bedroom, she carried the drawer to the study. The study didn’t have much furniture, but it was filled with books.
The books were mostly mainstream titles, such as "The Thoughts of the Great Leader," "Quotations from the Great Leader," "Party Propaganda," and so on. There were also some basic technical books her grandmother and father had picked up from old book stalls, her master’s favorite model operas, and the novels and comic books she herself enjoyed…
Zhan Lin checked the top of the bookshelf and used the flashlight to examine every crevice. In the cabinet of the writing desk, she discovered a hidden compartment containing five small gold bars. She weighed them in her hand—each felt like three or four liang.
She wasn’t sure whether her mother had hidden these, as the writing desk had been bought from a trust store last year.
The bottom panel of the five-drawer chest was actually movable and could be pulled out. In the two-to-three-centimeter space beneath it were all coupons. There were 420 jin of National Grain Coupons, and 32 chi of the rarely seen National General Cloth Coupons on the market. There were 61 Industrial Coupons, and twenty to thirty Cigarette Coupons and Liquor Coupons.
Looking at the dates, it was clear they had been hidden by her mother, as not a single coupon had expired.
So many National Grain Coupons and National Cloth Coupons?
Zhan Lin had a suspicion in her mind and continued searching.
It wasn't until she started rummaging that she realized she had as many as 46 comic books. In her two years of work, she had brought back 15 street propaganda pamphlets, filled nine notebooks, and had a thick stack of manuscripts.
Although she wasn't a good student, she still had all her elementary, middle, and high school textbooks. A small row of extracurricular books and exercise workbooks stood neatly arranged, many of them still new. She didn't even know why she had kept them.
When she pulled out the "Self-Study Series for Mathematics, Physics, and Chemistry," she didn't even feel the urge to open it, but she still wanted to glance through it. As she quickly flipped through the pages, a piece of paper fell out from between them.
Zhan Lin was surprised—the paper was old rice paper. On it were just two sentences: "Life has come to this, with many regrets. Only you, Sui, I think of day and night, heartbroken."
The calligraphy was beautiful, with a flowing momentum and strong brushstrokes. Having practiced calligraphy for over ten years herself, she could tell the depth of skill at a glance.
Only you, Sui, I think of day and night…
Sui?
Zhan Lin thought of someone—Song Yuhe, Madam Hong Huiying's second husband. This person had a minor name, which was Sui.
Coincidentally, Song Yuhe was also from Hu Shi.
She turned to look at the stack of coupons she had just placed in the drawer. Perhaps, just as she suspected, Madam Hong Huiying had been preparing to leave all along.
After finishing the search in the study, she took the drawer downstairs. In the partitioned room downstairs, a small packet of Gold Melon Seeds was hidden inside a large pottery jar. The bottom panel of the kitchen cabinet drawer had a hidden compartment, concealing 120 Da Tuanjie.
Under the padding of the kang mat, there was a deposit slip for exactly two thousand yuan, belonging to Madam Hong Huiying.
Madam Hong Huiying truly understood her daughter well, hiding things in places she wouldn't normally touch.
A flashlight her master had used during his lifetime broke last year. She hadn't taken it for repairs nor could she bear to throw it away, so she kept it as a memento. Unexpectedly, a thousand yuan could still be stuffed inside the flashlight.
In the kang stove room, Zhan Lin searched the small stove and the stove cavity but found nothing. She moved the bathtub and spittoon, but there was no place to hide anything in the honeycomb coal. She took a small stool and sat in front of the large wooden cabinet. Inside were two stacks of books, all used for kindling.
Her brother's high school textbooks were filled with handwritten notes. A quick flip through them showed he had paid attention in class. Inside a fourth-grade elementary school Chinese textbook, there was even a one-cent coin tucked away. It was hers now, so she kept it.
Soon, she finished flipping through the first stack and moved on to the second. Middle school Chinese—no interest. Fifth-grade summer homework—completed very well. One book after another, and oh, there was even a diary—her brother's diary.
Each diary entry was very brief. January 16, 1958, snow. Today, I twisted my beautiful little sister's ear. I told her not to go outside to play in the snow, but it went in one ear and out the other. I really wanted to give her a beating, but as soon as she smiled at me, I thought playing in the snow wasn't such a big deal. Let her play.
February 12, 1958, light rain. My mood today is just like the weather. Mom and Dad argued again. I should have stayed at Grandma's and not come back. Luckily, my little sister, that pretty little thing, didn't come back with me.
March 20, 1958, Sunny. Grandma made braised lion's head meatballs for lunch today. I remembered how much Mom loves this dish, so I asked Grandma to pack two for me to take to her. When I arrived at Mom's workplace, I saw her by the river with an uncle. The smile on her face was the gentlest and most beautiful I have ever seen.
Uncle? Zhan Lin caught the keyword and flipped a few more pages. The already thin diary was nearly at its end.
July 28, 1958, Thunderstorm. Mom was very happy today. Seeing her happy made me happy too. It's a pity Dad went to Jing Shi for training; otherwise, there would have been one more happy person.
August 16, 1958, Sunny. Grandma says "distance makes the heart grow fonder" is true. Dad came home today, and both my sister and I were overjoyed. After twenty days apart, Mom was also very, very kind to Dad. In the evening, we had braised carp. The carp was caught by my second uncle—he's amazing.
August 17, 1958, Sunny. Uncle Ning and Aunt Ning are taking Brother Yunshu to the military base to visit Big Brother Song Zhuo. I heard from Brother Yunshu that Big Brother Song Zhuo is injured. I'm so sad. I hope Big Brother Song Zhuo recovers quickly and defeats all the bad guys.
Song Zhuo is an orphan of a hero adopted by Ning Yunshu's parents. Besides Song Zhuo, they also adopted Zhang Huaizhang, Zhang Huaiyu, Ma Yanxin, and Shao Yi.
Among the five orphans of heroes, Zhang Huaizhang and Shao Yi both graduated from military academies. Song Zhuo didn't attend university but was mentored by a master and became a military doctor. Ma Yanxin studied mechanics and is likely now at the Jing Shi Machinery Factory Research Institute. Zhang Huaiyu entered politics and is currently at the Su Shi Municipal Committee. In a few years, he will be transferred to Hu Shi.
Zhan Lin flipped to the end of the diary but found no further mention of "uncle," leaving her somewhat disappointed. She continued searching to see if there was another diary.
There was no second diary, but she did find an account book, buried third from the bottom of a stack of books, with an elementary school math textbook cover. As soon as she opened it, she sensed something was off—beneath the cover were not textbook pages.
April 6, 1951, morning. Remitted 20 yuan to Zhang Yufeng.
May 2, 1951, morning. Remitted 20 yuan to Zhang Yufeng, along with a package (one pair of leather shoes, sixteen feet of cotton cloth, 5 jin of rice, 5 jin of flour, 1 jin of dried mushrooms, 1 jin of brown sugar).
May 29, 1951, afternoon. With Zhang Yufeng at Jing Shi Department Store, spent 63.6 yuan on a shirt, three jin of wool yarn, two jin of pastries, one jin of brown sugar, and twelve feet of cotton cloth.
Comrade Hong Huiying is truly filial. For twenty years, she never missed a month of remittances, sending at least 20 yuan each month, not to mention the items she bought and the packages mailed to Jing Shi.
All this adds up to at least 6,000 yuan. Zhan Lin finally understood where their family's money had gone. After Zhang Yufeng, there were also accounts for He Zhenghong and He Zhengli.
The accounts for these two sisters were particularly interesting. Before October 1958, they could only squeeze a few yuan from Ms. Hong Huiying each month.
But starting in October 1958, Ms. Hong Huiying seemed to have struck it rich. He Zhenghong was relatively modest, taking eleven or twelve to thirteen or fourteen yuan per month, but He Zhengli was completely unapologetic, spending twenty or thirty yuan freely.
Over twelve years, Ms. Hong Huiying provided He Zhenghong with two job placements and He Zhengli with three.
Each entry was recorded here clearly and in detail.
Zhan Lin firmly rubbed the glued-together book cover, feeling additional paper inside the layered cover. Without bothering to look for a knife, she tore it open directly.
Two medical reports and one prescription slip.
Of the two medical reports, one was issued by Beijing Xisuo Hospital on September 14, 1958, indicating an 11-week pregnancy for the expectant mother Hong Huiying. The other was issued by Weiyang City Gesui Maternity and Children's Hospital on October 18, 1958, also indicating an 11-week pregnancy for Hong Huiying, with the diagnosing physician listed as He Zhengli.
The medication on the prescription slip was familiar to Zhan Lin—it was for inducing labor.
Her eyes grew moist. So, the child that her grandmother had elbowed away was not her brother… no, he was still her brother, just not her father's.
Zhan Lin forced herself to calm down, to steady her emotions, not to get too agitated—she still had two little sprouts growing inside her. That winter in 1958, the scene of Madam Hong Huiying's outburst at the hospital toward her grandmother remained vivid in her memory to this day.
After losing that child, her mother often said she would hate her grandmother for the rest of her life.
And indeed, she harbored deep resentment. In her previous life, when Zhang Derun and Wei Min showed up with a stack of accounts, claiming there was a 16,700-yuan shortfall that needed to be covered by her father's signed documents, her mother took the money from her and her brother's hands. Then, weeping and wailing, she forced her grandmother to come up with 12,000 yuan.
Her grandmother, her second uncle, and her eldest aunt emptied their family savings to scrape together 11,280 yuan, after which Zhan Ke sold his job.
At the time, her brother had merely asked where all their family's money had gone, and Madam Hong Huiying immediately dragged both siblings into a detailed accounting.
Today, she encountered a medicine peddler and bought a lingzhi mushroom; tomorrow, a colleague at work asked if she wanted donkey-hide gelatin; the day after, a fellow villager had tiger bone wine for sale…
How could such accounts be tallied? Madam Hong Huiying claimed she had bought three century-old ginseng roots for their grandfather.
Their grandfather had already passed away three years prior. If anyone were to verify this, they could only ask Zhang Yufeng. Whether the purchase had actually been made depended entirely on what Zhang Yufeng said.
By the end of the accounting, both she and her brother fell silent.
But her sister-in-law grew agitated and asked Madam Hong Huiying, "Since you had connections to buy such fine goods, why didn't you mention it last year? You made my mother travel all the way back to the Northeast by train to buy ginseng for us."
In her previous life, both she and her brother had secretly doubted their mother. Because before her mother left for Hu Shi, she returned the money to her and her brother.
Holding the money felt like holding hot coals. They each kept one hundred yuan for emergencies and sent the rest to their grandmother.
As her emotions settled, Zhan Lin continued flipping through the account book while pondering why Madam Hong Huiying had kept the medical reports and prescription slip.
Was it for leverage?
With this evidence in hand, whether it was He Zhengli, He Zhenghong, or Zhang Yufeng, none would dare push Madam Hong Huiying into a corner.
The latter half of the account book consisted entirely of blank pages, except for the very last one. The final page was not blank—it bore a line of fountain pen writing: "26xxxx, Hu Shi Bank."
Hu Shi Bank—Song Yuhe's workplace before he ventured into business. "26xxxx," a six-digit number—was it a telephone number?
Zhan Lin didn't dwell on it. Whether it was or not, she could simply find time to go to the post office tomorrow and try dialing it to find out.
Closing the account book, she cleared her throat, opened her mouth, and let out a couple of "ah" sounds before speaking: "Hello, this is Hong Huiying." The voice that emerged was almost identical to Hong Huiying's. She couldn't imitate others, but her mother's voice—she would remember it for a lifetime.
In her past life, she would often say to herself, "As for children, just let him bring one back for you to raise."
"Let him bring one back" meant letting Ning Yunshu father a child outside and bring it to her to raise.
Isn't that ridiculous?
Because of those words, no matter how difficult things got in the Northwest or in Shenzhen, she gritted her teeth and endured. She wanted to prove that she could live well and beautifully, no matter who she was without. But many times… it truly was quite bitter.
Placing the account book by her feet, Zhan Lin went to retrieve the remaining two books. Unsurprisingly, the thicker one contained remittance slips. Looking through them, they were all sent to Zhang Yufeng. After returning the two stacks of books to their original place, she remembered there were more books in the kitchen and the storage room.
Having forgotten her bag upstairs, she went back up to get it.
Opening the kitchen door, Zhan Lin moistened her dry lips with her tongue. She decided to boil some water first. The water in the jar was definitely unusable, but there was a water tap in the yard, making it easy to fetch water. She scrubbed a small pot, scooped four ladles of water into it, covered it with the lid, and lit the fire.
She flipped through the books stacked in the corner behind the stove but found nothing important, so she stood up and took the small stool to the storage room.
In the storage room, two broken doors leaned against the wall, propped on the ground, with coal briquettes piled on top. These briquettes were made by her second uncle after he brought back loose coal from a trip to Shaanxi Province.
The small window was open, and the electric light was on, providing enough brightness. Zhan Lin tipped over a sack of books and quickly flipped through them. These books had been examined when they were packed into the sack, so there was basically nothing hidden inside. At the bottom of the sack were stacks of discarded manuscripts, and judging by the handwriting, they belonged to her father.
She skimmed through them one by one. There were hundreds of pages, and her eyes began to blur from looking. She flipped one page, then went back to it—the handwriting was crooked, large, and ugly, not her father's.
Qingtang Renxiang Hospital, Shan Province. Patient: Zhan Guocheng, from Weiyang City, 31 years old. Mumps, complicated by orchitis, persistent high fever, isolated for treatment.
Mumps? Zhan Lin couldn't help but recall the strange story her brother had told her. On December 23, 1957, her father contracted mumps in Qingtang, Shan Province, and was isolated for treatment.
Everything fell into place.
Why did her brother take leave and travel all the way to Hu Shi? Why did Madam Hong Huiying cut off contact with her and her brother after his visit to Hu Shi?
Because, as a mother, Madam Hong Huiying could no longer face her and her brother.
Her brother hadn’t randomly told her about his colleague’s struggles to have a child—he simply didn’t know how to bluntly tell her such an embarrassing truth.
Author's Note: