Lin Jinghong could understand, but she didn’t agree with it—she wanted to eat meat.
“Let’s eat it tomorrow. If it goes bad, all that effort will be wasted.”
Li Dongxiang was usually weak-willed, but when it came to her children, she practically never refused them anything.
“Fine, we’ll cook it tomorrow.”
The weather was truly hot these days. Fortunately, the family had a well, so they could hang the meat down there to keep it cool.
After eating, Lin Jinghong sat in the courtyard, gazing at the brilliant stars scattered across the sky.
It had been years since she’d seen stars this bright. The moonlight was beautiful too.
A gentle breeze drifted by, carrying the scent of soil and what seemed to be the fragrance of fresh grass.
“Da Ya, go to sleep now that you’ve eaten.” Li Dongxiang came out after cleaning up the dishes.
She wiped her hands dry on her worn apron. “What’s so interesting about the sky?”
Lin Jinghong couldn’t be bothered to correct the name anymore. Whatever.
“Mom, I can’t sleep right now. You go ahead first.”
“Alright, but don’t go running off alone at night.”
Li Dongxiang was worried—her sick daughter had no sense of reason.
Lin Jinghong stared at the night sky without blinking.
She still had to work tomorrow and would need to get up before six. She didn’t own a watch and had no idea what time it was now.
The family was dirt poor—not even a small alarm clock. Everything relied on experience to estimate the time.
And she didn’t have that experience…
Li Dongxiang was a little worried, but she still went inside to sleep. There was no choice—if she didn’t rest, she wouldn’t be able to work properly tomorrow.
These days, a strong laborer doing hard work could earn twelve work points a day. An ordinary man could earn ten, and some capable women could match the men—ten points wasn’t a problem for them. Weaker ones could get eight, and even kids in their teens could earn six or seven points a day.
Lin Jinghong had been earning ten points a day before.
That was why when Old Mrs. Lin said she wanted to marry her off for a bride price, some people were actually tempted.
In this era where men were used like oxen and women like men, Lin Jinghong could fully hold her own as a man.
And she could still bear children—no loss at all.
Late into the night, from the educated youth compound across the river, a rustling sound came.
Two furtive figures made their way to the riverbank.
“Ruoxue, this is for you.” Du Mingkang handed over two pieces of peach pastry wrapped in a handkerchief.
Bai Ruoxue took them without speaking, her swollen cheeks clearly visible under the moonlight.
Du Mingkang’s heart ached. He raised his hand to touch her face, then pulled it back. “You…”
“You’ll get revenge for me, right?” Bai Ruoxue looked up, pitiful and delicate.
As if the person before her was her only pillar of support.
Du Mingkang’s head went hot and he nodded. “Of course I will. Don’t worry—I’ll make her pay!”
Only after speaking did he regain some sense, remembering how formidable Lin Jinghong was. His expression stiffened.
“I knew you were the best to me.” Bai Ruoxue beamed. “Lin Da Ya likes you—if you said east, she’d never dare go west. Mingkang Ge, you know I… I feel the same about you. But with her the way she is, I don’t dare get close to you at all.”
She lowered her head again, looking miserable.
“She’s always threatening me. We educated youths are outsiders here anyway, and the brigade leader and party secretary are biased toward her. I simply don’t dare. You won’t blame me, will you?”
Du Mingkang, faced with her eyes full of affection, felt his heart shatter.
He couldn’t hold back any longer and pulled her straight into his arms. “No, it’s all that damned girl’s fault. Ruoxue, I’ll make her regret ever treating you like this.”
Bai Ruoxue was caught off guard by his embrace. She forced herself not to push him away.
Her eyes were full of resistance and disgust.
But hearing his words, she still raised a hand to pat his back. “I believe you.”
All reason fled Du Mingkang’s mind.
Lin Jinghong enjoyed the moonlight until the middle of the night, then sneezed a few times. “Tsk, which shameless bastard is cursing me behind my back?”
She stood up, stretched, drew some water to wash up, and went to bed.
Her little sister beside her was sleeping like a log—Lin Jinghong had made quite a bit of noise but hadn’t woken her at all.
The night passed without incident. At the first glimmer of dawn, the Lin family’s small courtyard came to life.
Li Dongxiang lit the fire, cooked porridge, and prepared breakfast for the family.
Smoke curled upward, shrouding the small mountain village in mist.
Lin Jinghong was sprawled out, sleeping soundly.
Breakfast was nothing more than simple sweet potato porridge—nothing else. Lin Xiaodi and the others got up one by one.
“Your sister has a wound on her head. Let her rest properly these few days,” Li Dongxiang said during the meal.
Lin Xiaomei nodded vigorously. “I’ll go out to cut pig grass and won’t disturb her.”
“Leave some food for Da Ya in the pot,” Lin Erjun added.
Lin Xiaodi slurped down his porridge, two big bowls filling his stomach with mostly water.
He smacked his lips and headed out the door with his parents.
They had to go to the threshing ground first. After the brigade leader gave his mobilization speech, they’d collect their tools and wait to be assigned to the fields.
Harvest season was approaching, so everyone was busy tending to the crops.
Lin Jinghong slept until noon. When she got up, she looked at the thin porridge left in the pot.
She didn’t mind it. She drank the porridge and ate two pieces of egg cake.
Those had been bought by Su Zhaoying.
They were locked away in her kang cabinet—all three siblings had keys to it.
As for their parents, they wouldn’t have eaten it anyway, so nothing was stored there.
With her stomach full, Lin Jinghong went out for a stroll. Qingyan Brigade was backed by a large mountain, with a river running through the middle.
She wanted to go up the mountain and take a look.
As soon as she stepped out the door, she saw a man grinning like an idiot.
“Lin Jinghong.” Du Mingkang ran over. “Where are you going?”
He even reached up to flick his hair.
Greasy.
Lin Jinghong rolled her eyes. “None of your damn business! Get out of my way.”
This guy was definitely not a good person—he’d tricked the original owner into circling around him, completely brainwashing her.
Du Mingkang hadn’t expected Lin Jinghong to take this attitude. He froze for a moment. “How dare you talk to me like that?”
Usually, if he so much as smiled at her, she’d be overjoyed to the point of fainting.
“What are you supposed to be? Why wouldn’t I dare talk to you?” Lin Jinghong was getting impatient. “A good dog doesn’t block the road. Get lost, and if you come near me again, I’ll knock your teeth out, got it?”
She made a swinging motion as if to hit him, and Du Mingkang quickly backed off.
“Coward.” Lin Jinghong clicked her tongue, leaving Du Mingkang behind, fuming with humiliation, and turned toward the back mountain.
Her thin silhouette stretched long in the sunlight.
Du Mingkang’s expression darkened. He spat on the ground, a calculating glint flashing in his eyes.
Behind Lin Jinghong’s house, there were two paths up the mountain. The one on the left led first to a slope where the brigade’s cowshed was, housing three cows and five gaunt old men. Oh, a few days ago one of them had fallen ill and didn’t make it—died. So now there were four.
To avoid trouble, Lin Jinghong took the right path directly.
On the way, she ran into two aunties from the brigade, but no one else.
The outer area was bare—not even wild vegetables, let alone pigweed, remained.
Lin Jinghong went deeper. In these times, even things in the mountains belonged to the collective, but when people were truly at their breaking point, some would go up the mountain to hunt. Occasionally, with luck, they’d get something. As long as no one went overboard, everyone turned a blind eye.
She wandered around a few times without any luck.
Lin Jinghong wasn’t discouraged. She continued further in, where the shade grew denser and brambles were thick.
She steadied her mind, and the sounds of small animals reached her ears.
The flapping of wings—probably a pheasant.