Hearing Han Lin say this, Yang Dai froze for a moment, then only nodded without replying.
Back when the hospitalization happened, Yang Dai had fronted the medical fees, but when Li An came to their house earlier, he had already repaid the money—and more than enough.
The reason Yang Dai had suggested visiting that mother and child at the hospital was due to several considerations.
She was the one who had sent them there. She felt that helping people should be carried through to the end, and going to check on them again would show a bit of human warmth.
Besides, according to what Li An had said before, that pair had quite the background.
Yang Dai didn’t intend to go out of her way to curry favor with just anyone she met, but she did believe that if it was possible to make friends, there was no need to make enemies.
Both she and Han Lin knew very well that sometimes, just a single word from someone higher up could easily change the fate of those below—whether toward success or failure.
But clearly, luck was not on their side right now. Yang Dai let the matter drop.
After all, she now had proper work keeping her busy.
After breakfast, she went to see Zhu Qingguo and collected supplies from him.
“We don’t have much. When you start painting, be sure to think carefully before you draw.” Remembering how she had erased and redrawn several times the day before, Zhu Qingguo gave her this uneasy reminder.
Yang Dai accepted the supplies, frowning slightly, though she quickly relaxed.
She had been warned that the smell wasn’t pleasant, but after realizing she would be dealing with it for days, she decided it was best to work quickly and finish the job as soon as possible—for her nose’s sake.
Her task in the brigade didn’t attract much attention. Despite her mother and Han’s mother loudly promoting it, most people didn’t think much of Yang Dai’s propaganda work.
Many believed her article only made it into the paper by sheer dumb luck.
Some, with stronger senses of responsibility, even approached the brigade leader to say giving Yang Dai the propaganda job was a mistake.
But the brigade leader dismissed them with a few sharp words.
“Can you read? Can you draw?”
“If Yang Dai doesn’t do the propaganda work, can you take it on instead?”
If you can, then do it. If you can’t, then watch and keep quiet. Don’t come tattling behind her back.
Yang Dai knew nothing of these minor disturbances in Huangzhuang Brigade.
She endured the acrid fumes all day and came home too exhausted to move.
Luckily, both her mother and Han’s mother now seemed to feel their children had real ability—and capable people deserved special treatment.
Without consulting each other, they both began bringing meals to her door, even bumping into one another and exchanging a few polite words.
They arranged it: Mother Yang would bring lunch, Mother Han would bring dinner.
Yang Dai tried to refuse but couldn’t, so she agreed to pay them back with grain or ration tickets.
“Yang Dai, are you home?” A familiar voice called from the courtyard. She couldn’t place it right away.
When she stepped outside, she found it was Xia Ziqing.
“Ziqing, what brings you here?” From the start, Yang Dai hadn’t really understood Xia Ziqing’s friendliness toward her.
But she had never turned it down either. After a few encounters, the two had grown much more familiar.
“I heard you took on the brigade’s propaganda work. I came to check on you. Isn’t it tiring?” Xia Ziqing hadn’t come empty-handed; she carried a bag of fruit.
“It’s the first day. It’ll get easier.” In truth, Yang Dai was exhausted, with no energy left for idle chatter.
But with Xia Ziqing, she could never bluntly complain.
And besides, the exhaustion was of her own making.
She had originally planned to finish the propaganda drawings in twenty days.
But after smelling the noxious fumes today, she resolved to cut the timeline in half.
Better to be worn out each day than to endure that stench for long.
“I heard the smell is pretty strong, so I brought a mask. Try it—maybe it’ll help.” Xia Ziqing pulled one out and offered it.
Yang Dai accepted it. “This does help. Ziqing, you’re thoughtful.” Looking at the simple mask, she remembered seeing doctors and nurses wear such things at the hospital.
“With this, I’ll definitely make faster progress.” She liked it more the longer she looked at it. It wasn’t hard to make, and it blocked out much of the odor.
The only downside was that wearing it too long felt suffocating.
But she’d rather feel stifled than breathe in the fumes for hours.
“As long as it helps. But you’ll need to change it often, otherwise it’s unhygienic.” Xia Ziqing wanted to say it should be replaced daily, but given the times, she held her tongue.
“The paint gives off not just smell but toxins too. Our brigade’s propaganda work is important, but our health matters most.” Seeing Yang Dai accept the mask warmly, Xia Ziqing felt her plan was moving forward. Their relationship was closer than ever.
She remembered that in her previous life, without masks, Yang Dai had fallen ill from the fumes.
It hadn’t been a grave illness, but it was lingering. Especially when seasons changed, she coughed endlessly, her eyes sensitive.
She and Han Lin tried countless remedies, going to commune, county, and even city hospitals. Nothing worked long-term.
Medicine helped temporarily, but once stopped, the symptoms returned.
The sickness tormented her, forcing her into months of convalescence each year.
Because of it, Huangzhuang Brigade gossiped harshly—accusing her of faking illness, acting like a bourgeois lady though born of poor peasants.
By then, she and Han Lin had begun to restore their reputations, but this knocked them back down again.
It wasn’t until two years later, when she had grown close with comrades working in the cowshed, that one elderly traditional doctor finally treated her fully.
His skills were said to be exceptional. After being rehabilitated and allowed back into the city, he was invited to serve a top leader’s health, but he declined. Instead, he chose to teach at a university of traditional medicine, and he maintained ties with Yang Dai and Han Lin ever after.
After her rebirth, Xia Ziqing had resolved not only to befriend Yang Dai and Han Lin, but also wondered whether to extend goodwill to those cowshed comrades early—building future connections.
But she quickly abandoned the idea. Associating with them too soon was too risky.
Besides, she was only a sent-down educated youth, not a native of Huangzhuang Brigade. Standing out too much here would do her no good.
As she approached middle age, she often wondered whether all her good fortune had been spent on landing her teaching job after being sent down.
The workload at the brigade primary school wasn’t heavy, the work points were generous, and outside she was respected. Because of that job, she had lived far better than most educated youths.
But when college entrance exams resumed, she failed three times, never setting foot on campus.
By the 1980s, even those who hadn’t gotten into university found ways to return to the city. Only she remained stuck.
Not until 1985, when the policy fully opened, did she finally become the last educated youth from Huangzhuang Brigade to go back.
Returning, she quarreled constantly at home and eventually, through an introduction, married her husband.
At first, life was fine. But two years later, their business venture collapsed, leaving them in debt. Her husband never recovered, sinking into despair.
For years, they lived under the weight of debt. Then, one day in middle age, she saw two familiar faces in the news.
Recognizing the names, she recalled: they were from Huangzhuang Brigade.
Before marriage, the pair had been infamous “black sheep.”
But afterward, they completely transformed, leaving the brigade within a few years. Riding the tide of reform, they grew ever more successful.
Reading that news, Xia Ziqing was filled with envy. She investigated their past more carefully, only to admire them even more.
In those idle years, she had often read novels. In her eyes, Yang Dai and Han Lin were just like novel protagonists: whatever they did, they succeeded, blessed with luck itself.
She didn’t know why she had been reborn. But she set herself a perfect plan: cling to strong backing.
If she had no luck of her own, then she would ally with those who did, following in their path. With her foreknowledge, she would never fall into the same pit again.
So upon arriving in Huangzhuang Brigade, she devoted herself to befriending Yang Dai.
Watching the time, she felt she had said enough. If she stayed, she might run into Han Lin, so she quickly excused herself.
Yang Dai seemed approachable and easy to get along with. Han Lin, on the other hand, looked much harder to deal with.
Their one brief meeting had already startled her. She had no wish to face him again so soon.
After seeing Xia Ziqing off, Yang Dai fetched a piece of plain but breathable cloth from storage, planning to sew several masks to rotate.
But as night fell, the dim light of kerosene lamps and candles strained her eyes. She decided that once this propaganda job was done, she would ask about getting electricity at home.
If the brigade was willing to offer electrification as a reward, she would gladly accept.
Relaxing in the courtyard, she looked up as Han Lin pushed the door open, returning with his basket full.
At the top lay pork; underneath, divided separately, were wild pheasants and rabbits.
Such game was a novelty once in a while, but she’d seen it too often to be excited.
Fortunately, Han Lin brought another bit of good news: he had arranged with the supply and marketing cooperative. The next day, with industrial coupons, they could finally bring home a stove.