Tietui took the food out of the basket and arranged it on the small kang table in front of Miao Qing.
This was a table Miao Qing had asked Tietui to have the village carpenter make—it was foldable, and when not in use, it could be folded up and placed against the wall, taking up hardly any space. It had only cost three yuan.
As soon as the aluminum lunch box was opened, an enticing aroma wafted out.
Everyone’s eyes grew even more fixated. Wang Changzhu couldn’t help but swallow.
Fresh green-skinned radishes, just pulled from the ground, were shredded into thin strips, mixed with a bit of salt to draw out the moisture, then combined with flour and seasonings, stirred into a sticky batter.
A spoonful was scooped into a hot oil pan and slowly fried over low heat until set, then flipped until both sides turned golden brown.
With one bite, the outside was crispy and fragrant while the inside was soft and tender—the sweet freshness of the radish perfectly complemented by the rich aroma of fried dough. Absolutely delicious.
Washed down with a bowl of millet porridge—not too thick, not too thin—and paired with crisp, refreshing pickled mustard greens, even without meat, it was more than satisfying.
Miao Qing ate with relish while Chang Rufan and the others watched with envy. Tietui’s hands never stopped moving.
He took the washed and dried clothes out of the small basket and folded them neatly, packed up the scattered dirty clothes and smelly socks on the kang to take home for washing, and even tidied up the little odds and ends Miao Qing had left lying around. When he ran out of things to do, he grabbed the broom and carefully swept the area where Miao Qing slept.
Even Fang Mingyuan watched with envy. How come he didn’t have any relatives here?
After eating her fill, Miao Qing cast a glance at the jealous crowd, then walked Tietui out the door. Only then did she quietly tell him,
“Tomorrow afternoon… you’ll come with me… to the commune.”
Tietui was taken aback.
“What are we going to the commune for?”
“To buy rice, flour, oil, salt, soy sauce, vinegar…”
Miao Qing counted on her fingers, naming more and more items. Tietui’s head was spinning.
“Sis, even if you have money, you can’t spend it like this! You need to save.
It’s fine to have a good meal once in a while—but you can’t eat well every single meal!”
Miao Qing wouldn’t listen. She insisted on going.
Food was the most important thing in the world—nothing was going to stop her.
What could Tietui do? He had to listen to her. After all, whoever paid had the final say—and besides, the things she’d mentioned were indeed running low at home.
The next morning, Miao Qing followed Taohua and the others to a sweet potato field. She dug until her arms nearly fell off, and in the end, she only harvested two catties of small sweet potatoes, no bigger than fists, that hadn’t even grown to “Sugar Bean” size.
“Sugar Bean” (Tangdou) was the nickname of Taohua’s little sister—Yang Xiaomei had asked Miao Qing to help come up with it.
This field had already been picked over by the villagers once right after the sweet potato harvest, and all the larger ones had been taken.
The ones left behind were just small ones from the edges and corners—too hard to dig out, so they were left for the scavenging team.
Having learned this in advance, Miao Qing didn’t use her ability to accelerate anything.
After all, the difference between big sweet potatoes and small ones was much more obvious than the difference between good soybeans and mediocre ones. She didn’t want to take the risk.
Besides, with all the running around she’d been doing, her physical stamina had improved quite a bit. At least now she wasn’t as useless as she’d been on the first day—she could grit her teeth and get through it.
After successfully turning in her harvest and having lunch, Miao Qing took Tietui to catch a donkey cart to the commune.
The driver was still Old Liangtou. This donkey had originally belonged to him before being taken over by the commune.
The commune assigned him to keep caring for it. For villagers going to the commune, the fare was five cents—two cents for the commune, two cents for the brigade, and one cent for him.
That one cent was this old bachelor’s only source of income, though he also earned work points for driving the cart—eight work points a day, plus a little cash. With just himself to feed, his life was pretty comfortable.
There were few passengers in the afternoon—the cart was mainly used to deliver goods to the commune.
So aside from Miao Qing and Tietui, the cart carried a basket of eggs, a basket of spinach, and two sacks of cotton.
Miao Qing looked at these items while listening to Tietui chat with Old Liangtou.
It turned out that each production brigade not only had to complete their production quotas as planned, but also had to hand over a portion of their agricultural products.
Not just grain, but also cotton, oil, meat, poultry, eggs, and other farm products had to be turned over as well.
The commune would then sell all the agricultural products submitted by the various brigades and settle accounts with them periodically.
At the end of the year, the brigades would distribute money to their members based on work points. In wealthy brigades, a strong laborer could get over a hundred yuan a year. But Qingfeng Brigade was poor—at most, seventy or eighty yuan.
Listening to this, Miao Qing couldn’t help but sigh inwardly. Life was really too hard.
But since the commune accepted these goods, could she perhaps…
Miao Qing glanced at Old Liangtou. He was chatting and laughing with Tietui, looking incredibly affectionate—a completely different person from when they’d first picked her up.
Tietui called Old Liangtou “Great-Grandpa,” so Miao Qing followed suit and also called him “Great-Grandpa.” Reaching into her satchel, she pulled a handful of fruit candies from her space and handed them over.
Old Liangtou paused, his eyes studying Miao Qing with an unreadable expression.
Miao Qing smiled innocently.
“Great-Grandpa, I want to buy eggs and meat. Could you help me out?”
Tietui couldn’t help but want to advise her against it. Eggs were expensive these days—four cents apiece—and meat too. It wasn’t a holiday or a festival—why buy that stuff?
Old Liangtou didn’t take the candy and asked Miao Qing,
“Do you have ration tickets?”
Miao Qing nodded.
“Yes!”
Old Liangtou relaxed. If she had tickets, that was easy enough.
But then Miao Qing added,
“But… not many.”
Old Liangtou…
He’d heard Futian say this girl was rather slow in speech, but he hadn’t believed it. Turns out it was true.
Why did she have to pause so dramatically when speaking?
Miao Qing pushed the candies closer to Old Liangtou and smiled even sweeter.
“These are for you—a little token of my respect.”
Old Liangtou looked at Miao Qing. The girl might be slow, but she knew how to handle people.
And candy—well, who didn’t like something sweet?
As for eggs and meat—even without tickets, where there was money, there was a way.
If she got to eat meat, Tietui and the others could at least have some broth too.
Old Liangtou pocketed the candy. After delivering the goods, he took them to the supply and marketing cooperative and told Miao Qing and Tietui to buy whatever they could with money and tickets first.
Naturally, they couldn’t buy a single egg. The sales clerk gave them the same spiel as last time:
The eggs were sold out and temporarily out of stock. Who knew who’d bought them all? As for meat—forget it. They could only buy soybean oil, limited to half a catty.
Old Liangtou led Miao Qing and Tietui through the commune’s only street, winding through several turns until they ducked into a small alley.
He got off the cart and knocked on a door. It opened to reveal an old woman wearing an old-style jacket, with bound feet and a headscarf.
Old Liangtou leaned in close and murmured to her for a while.
The old woman nodded, then beckoned Miao Qing and Tietui into the courtyard.
It was the first time Miao Qing had seen a tiled-roof house here—she was a bit curious. But when she got closer, she saw it was still a cave dwelling.
The entrance had just been made to look like a tiled house. Inside, however, the cave walls were whitewashed and decorated with paper-cut window flowers, making it much brighter than the gray, dusty caves they lived in.
The old woman’s house had not only a jar full of eggs but also a crock of meat.
The fat on top had solidified into a white layer. Scooping it open with a spoon revealed chunks of meat beneath—each about the size of a fingertip, reddish and glossy, with a faint aroma of spices.
Miao Qing couldn’t help but swallow. Before she’d transmigrated, she’d never craved meat.
But now, even looking at white lard made her mouth water.
She couldn’t help it—she was desperately lacking in fat and oil.
The old woman’s prices weren’t cheap—five cents per egg, and one yuan and eighty cents per catty of meat—but she didn’t require ration tickets.
For that alone, Miao Qing wanted to buy as much as possible.
But the old woman would only sell her thirty eggs and two catties of meat at most—cash on delivery, and once she left the door, she’d deny everything.