She’d only just started there as an apprentice, earning 17 yuan a month.
By comparison, Lu Jianguo was a Grade-4 worker at the Machinery Plant, making 61 yuan a month; Wang Xiulan was a Grade-3 worker at the Garment Factory, earning 52 yuan a month. Lu Weidong had also earned 18 yuan at the Machinery Plant before being confirmed, and now brought home 32 yuan a month.
Thanks to the extra nourishment she’d been sneaking in, Lu Jinxia had finally put on a little flesh—she no longer looked frighteningly gaunt, as though nothing but skin stretched over bone.
A few days before school began, Wang Xiulan rummaged through cupboards and carefully tallied up the family’s ration coupons, then scraped together what spare cash she had to buy Lu Jinxia the necessary textbooks, paper, and writing supplies.
“Study hard at school. Don’t come home at noon—No. 1 High School is far too far from here. Take steamed buns with you in the morning, and buy something to eat at the cafeteria for lunch. I’ve put your money and coupons all safely in your bag.”
Lu Jinxia accepted everything one by one and replied softly. She knew this family might not be overflowing with warmth, but she cherished every quiet, decent kindness shown to her.
On the first day of school, Lu Jinxia slung a patched cloth satchel over her shoulder. Inside, along with her lunchbox packed with coarse-grain steamed buns, she set off toward No. 1 High School. The school lay quite a distance from the apartment block—a good half-hour walk.
The moment she stepped through the school gates, the scene before her stood in stark contrast to the cramped apartment block she called home. Neat rows of blue-brick buildings stood orderly, and the playground bustled with students, their laughter and chatter filling the air. Many of her classmates had come from towns and villages across the region; still getting acquainted, everyone carried a quiet reserve on this first day.
Lu Jinxia found a seat, sat down, and quietly arranged her books. She had no taste for idle gossip. In class she listened attentively; between lessons, she either read quietly or rested her head on her desk with eyes closed. Before long, she had settled comfortably into the rhythm of high school life.
Cafeteria meals were simple—coarse grain buns with thin, watery vegetable soup was the daily norm. Thankfully, she had her private store of food, which she could draw upon quietly to supplement her nutrition. Days were spent focused entirely on her studies at school; at dusk, she walked home, and upon arrival, faithfully completed all her household chores. Lu Lichun, having started at the Garment Factory over the summer, returned home exhausted every evening and had neither the energy nor the mood to pick fights.
And so life flowed gently—between study, commuting, and chores. Time slipped quietly forward, and the year became 1971.
Lu Jinxia was now in her second year of high school, due to graduate in just a few months. She still had no job lined up; factory positions everywhere were already fully filled. If she failed to find work soon, she would almost certainly be sent down to the countryside.
Her relationship with her family remained polite but distant. Her parents, having moved past their initial feelings of guilt toward her, treated her adequately enough—but with no great affection. After all, they had not raised her from childhood herself.
Lu Jinxia preferred it exactly this way. Once she left this home, she could simply regard them as relatives—bound by obligation, but free of deeper entanglement.
Over these two years, she had drawn substantially upon the food, money, and coupons she had stockpiled. She sorted through her supply, selecting what was usable or nearing expiry, and put them to good use—buying pastries, candies, and even heading well out of her way to a state-run restaurant on the far eastern side of town, far from her neighborhood, where she purchased steamed buns and braised pork, packed them in her lunchbox, and stored them away to replenish her strength slowly and discreetly.
“Ring, ring, ring!” The bell rang for the noon break.
Classmates rose in twos and threes, chattering as they made their way toward the cafeteria, filling the hallway with cheerful noise. Lu Jinxia closed her textbook slowly, smoothing the page edges with her fingertips.
Beside her, Li Shuhe had already packed her things. She turned toward Lu Jinxia. “Jinxia, come on—let’s go get lunch.”
Li Shuhe was the closest friend Lu Jinxia had made in her two years of high school. Lu Jinxia nodded, and together they walked out of the classroom. Side by side, they moved along corridors filled with students laughing and talking. They joined no groups, walking quietly together, content in each other’s company.
The cafeteria hummed with voices; the scent of cooking oil mingled with the plain, mild aroma of simple food. The dishes served at the window were predictably simple: stir-fried cabbage with barely a trace of oil, potato soup as clear as water—rarely speckled with any fat—and the staple coarse grain buns.
They queued for their meals and found seats by the window. Li Shuhe looked down at her bland, unappetizing food and sighed softly.
“Every single day the same thing,” she said. “I swear my tongue’s losing all sense of flavor.”
Lu Jinxia broke open her own coarse-grain bun and took a small bite. “It fills the stomach—that’s enough. I doubt any school cafeteria serves anything better.”
“I suppose you’re right. At least I get to eat a proper meal at home in the evening—I’d never survive three meals a day of this.”
Lu Jinxia smiled faintly and said nothing, continuing to eat. Li Shuhe glanced at her composed demeanor, feeling a quiet fondness for her friend. Then, remembering what weighed most heavily on their minds, she took a few quick bites and leaned in, lowering her voice.
“Jinxia—we graduate in just a few months. Have you heard anything about a job yet?”
The question struck exactly the anxiety Lu Jinxia had been carrying. She lowered her gaze, chewing slowly, her tone tinged with helplessness.
“Nothing. Every factory in town is fully staffed—there isn’t a single opening. I’ve asked around so many times, but there’s not even a glimmer of opportunity.”
Without a permanent position, the only path remaining to her would be going down to the countryside—an unavoidable reality for every unemployed youth of their time.
Li Shuhe frowned at her words, set down her spoon, and leaned closer still, speaking barely above a whisper.
“If the factories truly won’t take anyone, don’t panic. My father’s the Director of the Supply and Marketing Cooperative—he knows people, lots of people.” She spoke plainly, without a hint of boasting, only genuine concern for her friend. “He’s already arranged for me to join the store as a salesclerk the moment I graduate—steady work. If you really can’t find anything elsewhere, I’ll speak to him. I’ll ask him to keep an eye out for any opening—even temporary work would be better than being sent to the countryside.”
Lu Jinxia’s heart warmed. She looked up at her friend.
“But Shuhe—please don’t speak of this to anyone else,” she said earnestly. “If someone with ill intentions were to report this, your father—and you—could face serious trouble.”
Li Shuhe stuck out her tongue playfully. “I know. I haven’t breathed a word to anyone but you.”
In an era where everyone struggled simply to get by, to have someone care enough to offer help from the heart was truly rare. Lu Jinxia had grown up with little genuine affection from those around her; such kindness touched her deeply.
“Thank you, Shuhe,” Lu Jinxia said softly.
“But don’t trouble your father just yet. Let me wait a little longer—we still have months before graduation. Perhaps something will come up. Only if there is truly no way at all will I come and ask for your help.”
She was unwilling to owe such a heavy favor unnecessarily. She held Li Shuhe’s kindness close to her heart—but would not ask for help until there was truly no other choice.