When the brigade leader was writing the introduction letter, he told her that the people going to the county town were the last to leave the village.
People from the village either walked or rode ox carts to the county town, but these two were wealthy—they each had a bicycle, and even two at that.
Moreover, they had an introduction letter, which was why the brigade leader and others thought it was unlikely they were from the county town.
The introduction letter needed to list one’s position and address. These people were workers! They had proper jobs in the city. They had been staying here for four days, and today happened to be the fifth day—the day they were due to leave.
Everything about their trail looked completely normal. When they arrived, they carried large and small bundles and wore brand-new clothes—corduroy, no less, which looked very upscale.
At the time, Liu Jianguo was positively beaming. His relatives had made him the center of attention in the village today, especially since these affluent relatives even gave him a small piece of coarse corduroy fabric. They said they only bought such fabric when making new clothes for weddings in the city!
This one-foot piece cost more than a yuan—it was practically like gold.
Everyone in the village knew about it: these wealthy relatives certainly weren’t short of money.
So compared to the people from the county town, the villagers thought it was more likely that these people were from Majiazhuang.
After all, before Jianguo’s era, Majiazhuang had been known for producing bandits. But the brigade leader didn’t dare mention this—his wife was from Majiazhuang. If he said it, he would have a hard time today.
..
Meanwhile, Song Qinghuan didn’t stop when she reached the commune. She kept heading toward the county town.
She had a sense that something was guiding her, telling her which way to go. She knew when to stop and when to keep moving.
The bicycle wheels kicked up dust as they rolled over the commune’s roads, which were smoother than the village paths. Song Qinghuan didn’t dare stop; she feared that even a moment’s delay could cause her child to suffer the fate described in those cruel stepmother stories.
Faster… a little faster!
..
Elsewhere, a man and a woman were riding bicycles. On the man’s bicycle was a pair of baskets tied to the back, covered with straw. If you didn’t lift it, you would have no idea what was inside.
“Let’s rest for a bit. I’m exhausted.” They had been riding nonstop since leaving Liujiagou, without even drinking a drop of water.
The woman had braided hair and a plump face—a rare “fortunate” look in these times. Anyone seeing her would think her family must be well off.
And indeed, their life was comfortable.
The man glanced at his watch. Three hours had passed since they left the village. A short rest wouldn’t hurt.
“Those people definitely won’t catch up with us,” the woman said, wiping sweat from her brow. They were experienced at this. Villagers didn’t have bicycles, and if anyone found them and asked, they would simply dismiss them with a casual remark—then the villagers wouldn’t dare question them further.
Besides, most village families had many children—eight or nine wasn’t unusual. Over the past few years, some families didn’t even survive, so losing one or two children wasn’t considered much.
This time, someone wanted a set of twins—especially rare, and these twins were healthy and well-kept, which meant they could sell for a good price.
“After we sell these two, get me some lipstick and face powder,” the woman said, pouting. If it weren’t for the fact that these items had been removed from department stores last year, they wouldn’t have to buy them secretly.
“After this job, we’re done,” she added.
The man didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he said, “The authorities are getting stricter lately. Let’s stop for now. Don’t buy the things you wanted.”
The man looked like a simple, honest person. At first glance, no one would suspect the dirty work he was involved in.
The woman frowned. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
The man’s expression darkened. “Things aren’t peaceful. We’ve dealt with a few of them together. Once it’s safe again, I’ll get you whatever you want.”
They had been at this for years and still had a lot of spare money.
The woman nodded. For matters like this, she followed his lead.
“Let’s go.” The man got back on the bicycle, and the woman hurried to catch up.
The spring breeze was unrestrained, mingling with sunlight, making their hair fly.
Before four in the afternoon, Song Qinghuan rode into the county town. On her bicycle, she quickly found her way to a remote alley. The alley had originally been home to wealthy pre-Jianguo families, but after the revolution, the houses became a shared courtyard, with six or seven families living in each small courtyard.
Outside, the courtyard walls were blue bricks and whitewashed. Near the alley, each yard had its own gate. The large courtyards had been divided into smaller ones.
Pushing her bicycle in, Song Qinghuan saw young people wearing secondhand military uniforms, red armbands on their arms, cheerfully labeling others as “bad elements.”
There were many idle young people in the county town, loitering on the streets. Song Qinghuan glanced around but quickly averted her eyes. She cycled deeper into the alley, passing walls painted with slogans like “Self-Reliance, Strive to Improve.” Noise from the small courtyards reached her ears but faded as she went further.
She could faintly hear someone whispering, “Who’s visiting?”
The residents all knew each other. Any stranger would be noticed.
“Who knows? Maybe a family has visitors,” another voice replied.
At the very end of the alley lived only one family, near the outhouse. In hot weather, the smell could be unbearable.
The innermost house was also the smallest, built within the courtyard.
The closer Song Qinghuan got, the faster her heart raced. She didn’t call the police—if these two were habitual offenders, there were likely informants, and she didn’t even dare ask around for information, fearing that the people inside would flee if they got wind.
Her cloth shoes made faint sounds on the bluestone. She got closer, even hearing slight voices.
Meanwhile, the man and woman had returned, hiding the children who were still asleep in the baskets. The man asked, “Why are they still sleeping? Don’t make them dumb.”
If they became dumb, they’d be worthless.
“If I don’t feed them more, could we even leave the village now? Besides, you can tell if a child’s dumb or not.”
The man stopped worrying.
Just as they hid the two children, someone knocked on their gate.
“Who is it?” they asked, but no answer came. The knocks continued, each one harder than the last.