Li Ying's heart ached. She took the few remaining bills and ration coupons she had, pulled out one mao and two liang of grain coupons, and handed them to her daughter.
"Go buy two plain steamed buns, one for you and one for An'an."
He Xinglan took the money, walked to the window, and bought one plain steamed bun.
"An'an eats."
He took the dark wheat bun from his nephew's hands and stuffed it into his own mouth, chewing and swallowing it in big mouthfuls.
The meals distributed by the canteen couldn't be wasted. If anyone caught them on a technicality, their family would have to endure another struggle session.
An'an's mood improved after eating the soft, fragrant white bun.
After taking a bite himself, he handed it to his grandmother.
"Grandma, eat together."
Li Ying shook her head. "Grandma's full. An'an eats. When you're done, we'll go work."
"Okay!"
The others finished eating and left. They too packed up their lunchboxes and bowls.
Once outside, they collected their farm tools.
He Jianguo said in a low voice, "From now on, let's not talk during meals. The more we say, the more mistakes we make."
Everyone agreed wholeheartedly on this point. Just moments ago, one shake of the grandson's head had made the people nearby look like they wanted to devour them.
Children say whatever comes to mind without thinking. If the boy accidentally said something wrong, a struggle session would be the least of their worries—losing their lives was the truly terrifying prospect.
Having gone through this single ordeal, the He family already realized that the days ahead would not be easy.
After breakfast, the main group assembled in the farmyard.
Work assignments began.
As the lowest rung on this farm's ladder, the He family naturally couldn't expect any good work.
"Hey, Old Qin, you're practically a veteran on this farm. Take this family around to get familiar with things. Head to Black Water Pond—make sure it's cleaned up within today. No need to come back for lunch; someone will bring you food."
"Got it!"
With assignments handed out, the group dispersed and filed out through the farm gate.
After walking a long distance, they could see many tiny figures scattered across the vast land.
Once Old Qin confirmed no one else was around, he muttered to himself, "Talk less, look less, keep your head down and do your own work. At the monthly struggle sessions, let what they say go in one ear and out the other. Just nod at whatever they say. Don't think that just because you didn't do something, you can deny it…"
The old man mumbled on, his voice barely audible.
When they reached the spot, the four of them saw that this wasn't a field at all—it was a huge stretch of undeveloped wasteland.
"Hurry up and get to work. Lots of animals come to drink at the pond—wolves, bears. Watch out."
The old man seemed numbed to it all. He started hoeing the ground as soon as he arrived.
He Lin looked at the waist-high weeds, didn't linger, and went to the other side to dig the ground and pick out rocks.
"Mom, the two of us will pull the weeds."
He Xinglan picked up a sickle and began cutting the grass.
But her movements were clumsy, and she was slow.
Li Ying was even less skilled.
"An'an, follow behind Grandma. Don't run off."
"Okay."
The little one carried a water canteen over his shoulder, trailing behind his grandmother and aunt.
Once this period passed, after October came to an end, the long winter would set in.
But that didn't mean they could spend the winter comfortably on the freezing northwestern plateau.
There was no shortage of work in winter either.
He Jianguo occasionally asked Old Qin questions.
Old Qin answered seriously whatever he could answer; what he couldn't, he kept his mouth shut about.
"The winters here are long and bitter cold. You'd better spend the money to get a stove set up early, and you'll need to gather your own firewood from the mountains for the winter. The warehouse roof and the cracks in the walls need fixing too—the house is drafty as it is, and you don't want the child catching a cold. The nearest hospital is over a hundred kilometers away. The farm has some medicine, but it may not be enough to treat a child…"
The old man's words were lessons bought with blood over the years.
"Much obliged, brother."
"Ah, get to work. You'll have to get used to it—people like us here can only do the hardest, most grueling labor and eat the least."
Old Qin's eyes were vacant as he mechanically swung his hoe, stroke after stroke, without a moment's pause.
He Lin glanced at his father. He felt no ripple of emotion over their home being ransacked, because his grandfather had foreseen this day long ago.
The only thing that angered him was that shameless woman who, knowing full well the family's dire straits, had used the child to take the last of their "life-saving money."
"He Lin, get to work."
He Jianguo wasn't familiar with digging, but how could he let a man in his sixties carry the load?
He called out to his son and threw himself into the work.
The plot was about five or six mu.
If they worked quickly, they might finish it in a day.
The sun hadn't risen yet, and they could barely make out the path underfoot.
They worked from seven-thirty in the morning straight through to noon.
They were already exhausted, but Old Qin, though old, was a skilled worker—not even out of breath.
"Don't use brute force for this work. Rest a bit—the food will be coming soon."
Old Qin sat on the handle of his hoe and took a drink from his water flask.
They waited from noon until one o'clock, but no sign of the food deliverer.
Old Qin seemed used to it. "No use waiting. Keep working—the food will come around three."
Probably the lunch portions weren't enough to go around, so they couldn't spare anything for them at this hour.
Not understanding the situation, the adults chose to listen to Old Qin and kept working.
The highland sun at noon was scorching.
They continued working under the blazing heat.
The morning's thin porridge and a black steamed bun hadn't filled their stomachs, and now their bellies were growling with hunger.
There was nothing to do but endure.
Old Qin said three o'clock, and sure enough, it was three.
A man came carrying something wrapped in a cloth.
"Food's here, Old Qin!"
He stood on higher ground and just tossed the white cloth bundle over. Fortunately, it was wrapped tightly and didn't come apart.
But just from that gesture alone, the four He family members understood—Old Qin was right. They had no standing and no rights here.
They opened the cloth to find burnt flatbreads, with very little edible portion.
Old Qin took the burnt half for himself.
"Eat up. Don't mind it. There are plenty of hard days ahead."
Old Qin seemed optimistic on the surface, but in truth he had long been swallowed by despair, and this was his only way of letting it out.
Seeing others who'd suffered the same fate as him, he tried to help where he could.
After all, his wife had died here. He didn't want to see the same thing happen again.
"Here, you need to understand—survival is what matters. Everything else is external, so let it go. Young man, the way you carry yourself is going to get you criticized. You need to learn to hide it when you meet people."
Old Qin was a good judge of character. He Lin had worn that same look since yesterday—dismissive and cold toward everyone here.
"Did you hear me? From now on, keep a low profile. Let them talk if they want—don't fight back head-on. In the end, it's you who'll suffer!"
"I understand."
On their first day at the farm, the He family received help from Old Qin.
It made their days at the farm slightly more bearable, but the hard and dirty labor was unavoidable.
The monthly struggle sessions were unavoidable too.
The northwest was sparsely populated, and this place in particular was a desolate, uninhabited plateau. The atmosphere wasn't as intense as in the central or eastern regions, but they still couldn't escape being the main targets of the struggle sessions.
At the end of December, today's struggle session had just ended, and all dozen or so people, including the He family, were having a rough time.
Outside, heavy snow was falling.
"He Lin, go to the foot of the mountain and pick up five new educated youths! Hurry up!"
At this time of year, the north wind was bleak and biting, stinging people's faces.
He Lin didn't say anything, just nodded in acknowledgment.
It was originally someone else's job, but after being passed around and pushed off, it landed on his shoulders.