In the dead of night, the sudden clang of a gong shattered the silence, jolting Su Yun awake from her dream. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, glancing out the window—still pitch black outside.
Sure enough, the darkest hour was just before dawn. The moon had already set, but the sun hadn’t yet risen—you couldn’t see your own hand in front of your face.
Su Yun fumbled her way out of bed, groped over to the table, struck a match, and lit the kerosene lamp.
Almost every household in the village raised chickens, and now the sound of crowing rang out one after another. After washing up, Su Yun began braiding her hair—and only then realized she’d forgotten to buy a mirror!
It looked like she’d have to rely on guesswork when doing her hair until her next trip to the county. She had no idea if her braids were even straight.
She changed into her clothes and shoes. Everything she wore today, from the inside out, was brand new. She didn’t plan to wear her predecessor’s old clothes and shoes anymore.
She’d only worn them out of necessity before. In truth, Su Yun didn’t like wearing other people’s clothes. It wasn’t that she was a germaphobe—it just felt inexplicably uncomfortable.
She planned to get her hands on some yellow ritual paper when she had the chance, fold it into paper ingots, and burn them for her predecessor. She’d also find a place to bury the old clothes and cloth shoes as a kind of cenotaph, as a way of showing her gratitude.
But for now, all of that was considered feudal superstition. She’d have to do it quietly when no one was watching, and she couldn’t get caught. Yellow ritual paper wasn’t easy to come by either, so she’d have to wait for the right opportunity.
The gong sounded for the second time. The first time was to wake the members up; the second was a signal to get ready quickly. By the third ring, everyone was supposed to have left home and headed to the fields.
Su Yun slung her canteen and cloth bag over her shoulder, locked the door from the outside, dropped the key into her bag, and headed to the front yard.
The female educated youth on kitchen duty had steamed the cornbread buns the night before. Xu Minmin was now heating them up over the stove. These three days, it was Xu Minmin and Tao Yining’s turn to cook.
Neither of them yet knew about the other’s feelings for Zhao Jiayan, so they were getting along quite pleasantly. One was tending the fire, the other was picking out the buns with chopsticks and laying them in a bamboo tray to cool.
The older educated youth all scrambled out of bed at the sound of the gong. Some of the new arrivals in the back hadn’t come out yet and were still frantically washing up and dressing. Zhao Jiayan went door to door, knocking and calling out to hurry them along.
Once everyone was assembled, Xu Minmin handed out the cornbread buns one by one, and the group headed out to work with their breakfast in hand.
In the morning, they usually went to the brigade office first, where the brigade leader would assign the day’s tasks and hand out the necessary tools.
Su Yun and the others were lucky with their timing. The harvest rush had just ended a while ago, so there wasn’t much heavy work left, and what there was had already been taken by the village’s strongest laborers.
The brigade leader assigned all the male educated youth to fertilize the sweet potatoes—meaning they’d be carrying and spreading manure in the fields. The new female educated youth were sent to weed the cornfields.
Su Yun lowered her head, holding back a laugh. She’d just seen Gu Beihai’s face turn green, and Li Jianjun was frowning too. The older educated youth, on the other hand, looked completely unfazed—they’d probably done this job plenty of times before.
They followed the brigade members to the fields. The cornfield was staffed with female workers in their teens, along with pregnant women and older aunties and grannies. There were basically no women between twenty and forty—those were the main labor force in their households and had to take on more demanding, higher-paying work.
Weeding didn’t earn many work points. Depending on how much each person did, the maximum was five points per day. The lowest earners were the new female educated youth—some only got two or three points a day.
But no one complained. As long as you showed up and stayed in the fields, no one cared how much you actually did. Since everything was based on work points, the less you did, the fewer points you earned, and the less grain you’d get at the year-end distribution. You wouldn’t be taking from others.
Shangxi Brigade was a good place. It was backed by mountains, surrounded by streams and rivers, and the soil was fertile, yielding decent crops.
There were plenty of wild vegetables, mushrooms, and various mountain goods and fruits on the hills. During the slack farming season, the brigade would organize group trips up the mountain to gather goods, which were then sent to the supply cooperative’s purchasing station. The money was later divided among the members based on how much each person had collected.
So although Shangxi Brigade wasn’t as wealthy as the city, because of this extra income, most families could at least eat their fill and stay warm—except, of course, for the extremely lazy ones!
The person in charge of the cornfield was an older female comrade, whom everyone called Aunt Guihua.
Aunt Guihua first came over to teach the new female educated youth how to weed properly, and only went back to her own section once they’d gotten the hang of it.
At first, they were full of enthusiasm. They thought farming was hard, but surely weeding couldn’t be that tough? Who hadn’t pulled up a few weeds as a child?
But after working eagerly for over an hour, they began to feel the strain. The main issue was that crouching for so long made their legs go numb and sore, and their palms were red and burning from the friction.
Su Yun could see Liu Huan’s eyes welling up, on the verge of wailing.
She quickly changed the subject: “Liu Huan, let’s go rest for a bit. Let’s eat our breakfast first—we’ll have more energy to work after we eat!”
She couldn’t let Liu Huan start crying—otherwise, the new arrivals would become the village’s gossip fodder for days!
Liu Huan wiped her eyes with her sleeve, stood up, and followed Su Yun to the ridge between the fields.
An Qin and Tao Yining stopped weeding too and followed.
Not caring about the dirt, they sat down on the ridge and took out their cornbread buns.
“Weeding is so exhausting! My hands are all scraped up!” Liu Huan complained, her eyes red.
“Tell me about it—my legs are so numb I can barely walk straight!” Tao Yining said, kicking her feet.
An Qin looked at her reddened palms and said quietly, “Aunt Niu, who’s working next to me, said her family has nylon gloves—4 yuan a pair. She asked if I wanted to ask you guys if you want some… actually, she meant ‘trade for them.'”
“Yes! Right now!” Liu Huan said excitedly.
“Wow, that’s really steep! They’re 2 yuan a pair at the supply cooperative, and she’s doubling the price to sell to us?” Su Yun was a bit surprised. So there were profiteers even back then!
Su Yun and the others didn’t know this, but Aunt Niu’s daughter was not only married into the county, but she was also a factory worker herself. The gloves were actually part of the annual labor protection supplies issued by her and her husband’s factories—they hadn’t been bought at all.
Back then, people wouldn’t replace things unless they were worn out. Her daughter had saved up a few pairs of new gloves over time and sent them back to her mother’s home as a holiday gift.
Aunt Niu had no use for them either. She’d been working in the fields since she was a child and had long developed thick calluses on her hands—wearing gloves or not made little difference to her.
So when she saw the new female educated youth’s palms about to get blistered, it suddenly clicked. She could sell those pairs of gloves she’d been hoarding at the bottom of her trunk—turn them into cash, or at least into cloth coupons or something!
She was just a bit greedy, assuming the newly arrived young educated youth were naive and had no common sense, easy targets to take advantage of.
“Don’t offer money. Tell her I’ll give her four chi of white cotton cloth—ask if she’s willing to trade,” Su Yun said to An Qin.
The price of four chi of cotton cloth was roughly equivalent to a pair of nylon gloves. Add in the required cloth coupon, and the total value was far higher than the gloves. There was no way the other party wouldn’t agree.
“Right! We can’t trade money—there are too many people in the field right now, and I don’t know if anyone heard us talking. We don’t want someone reporting us… I can trade brown sugar!” Liu Huan caught on.
In the end, everyone decided to trade. An Qin went ahead and called Aunt Niu up to the ridge, and the group discussed it thoroughly.
Su Yun traded four chi of white cotton cloth for her gloves, An Qin offered two pairs of socks, Liu Huan gave brown sugar, and Tao Yining provided quite a few biscuits.
They agreed to deliver the items to Aunt Niu’s house at noon. For now, Aunt Niu would go home first to grab the gloves so they could start using them right away.
Aunt Niu was thrilled. She hurried home with quick steps, unable to suppress the smile at the corners of her mouth. Her normally sharp-featured, dark, ruddy face suddenly looked a little softer.
“I’m so clever! Whatever would this family do without me!” she muttered to herself under her breath as she walked.
Even before she’d received the traded goods, she’d already decided how to distribute them.
The white cotton cloth would go to her unborn grandson as swaddling; the biscuits would be treats for her beloved eldest grandson; the brown sugar would be split half and half between her pregnant daughter-in-law and her daughter; and the socks—she’d wear those herself! She’d lived half her life and never once worn nylon socks!
Staying away from the fields for too long would get you criticized for avoiding work, so Aunt Niu trotted back as fast as she could.
Once Su Yun and the others got their gloves, they stopped dragging their feet, quickly finished the last bites of their cornbread buns, put on the gloves, and got back to weeding with grim determination.
Finally, the workday was over! When Su Yun heard the “clang-clang-clang” of the gong signaling the end of the day, she almost burst into tears.
Farm work was exhausting!
In her previous life, she’d barely even taken PE classes—she never gained weight from eating and didn’t enjoy exercise. The most strenuous activity she’d ever done was occasionally going shopping.
After a full day today, she felt like her back was broken and her legs were crippled. Even with gloves on, her skin wasn’t broken, but her palms and fingers were red and swollen, hurting at the slightest touch.
And this was just weeding—the lightest work there was! They’d even had a two-to-three-hour break at noon. For the whole day, she’d only earned three work points. If she had to do other farm work, it might just kill her!
Her predecessor’s body hadn’t been strong to begin with—chronically malnourished from childhood. Her fair face looked pale rather than healthy, with her looks carried entirely by good genes. The heaviest work she’d ever done was household chores like washing, cooking, and cleaning, so she didn’t have much physical strength either.
The physique-improving pill from the beginner’s gift pack had only made her healthier, not stronger.
Su Yun quickly washed up and changed into another set of new clothes. She tossed the dirt-stained ones into a wooden basin, planning to take them to the stream later to wash.
Now! Right now! At this moment! No one was going to stop her from lying down!
After resting in bed for a while, Su Yun made up her mind: from now on, she’d only take light work!
She was still a 16-year-old shorty under 1.6 meters—she was still growing! If she overworked herself and stunted her growth, that would be a disaster.
Besides, no one here required her to earn a certain number of work points. As long as she had money to buy grain, it didn’t matter if her work points were low. There were only so many field tasks to go around—if she did less, there were plenty of stronger laborers eager to take on more. By doing less, she’d be letting others earn more points. So the villagers didn’t really mind that the educated youth weren’t great at farm work.
At worst, some of the aunties would gossip behind her back about her being useless. But she wasn’t planning to find a husband or get married in the village, and she’d be leaving in a few years anyway. She didn’t care about that kind of reputation.
That said, there weren’t many light jobs to go around. Jobs like point recorder or warehouse keeper were out of the question—those spots were locked in by connections and wouldn’t be easily swapped.
In fact, weeding was already considered light work. After a few more days, once she got used to it, it would feel easier. Then she’d work a bit, rest a bit, and just aim for three work points a day.
Once the weeding job was done, she’d talk to the brigade leader about taking on the task of gathering pig feed. That paid one work point per basket, and she could do as much or as little as she wanted. Up in the mountains, she could slack off a bit without anyone watching, unlike in the fields where people kept an eye on her. If she dragged her feet in the fields, people might turn a blind eye, but if she just stood around refusing to work, that would be seen as an ideological problem in this era.
Su Yun lay in bed, mulling over her plans for the future, and ate two meat buns. She didn’t care about crumbs in bed.
She was still growing, and her appetite had increased. After a whole afternoon of work, she was already starving.
Breakfast at the educated youth site was dry rations, usually cornbread buns or flatbread. Lunch was dry rations plus grits porridge. Dinner, since it was right before bed, was just a bowl of thin grits porridge per person. Two meat buns now, and she’d still be able to down a bowl of porridge later.
The educated youth weren’t as productive as the villagers and didn’t earn many work points. The grain they received was only enough for these modest meals. Those with bigger appetites had to buy extra grain themselves.
After eating, Su Yun climbed out of bed, poured some hot water from her thermos into a basin, and soaked her hands, hoping the warmth would help the swelling go down faster.