Hearing the surrounding chatter still circling around Miao Qing, Chang Rufan grew even more displeased. After a moment’s thought, she rolled up her sleeve, deliberately glanced at her watch, and said loudly,
“Oh my, it’s almost twelve already—time for lunch. No wonder I’m feeling a bit hungry.”
In those days, a watch was a rare luxury. The cheapest one cost over a hundred yuan, and even with the money, you still needed an industrial coupon—and those weren’t easy to come by.
Anyone who could afford a watch definitely came from a well-off family.
At the sight, everyone’s attention shifted from Miao Qing to Chang Rufan.
The female educated youth secretly sized up her blue woolen coat, white turtleneck sweater, and the brown leather buckle shoes on her feet.
The male educated youth couldn’t help but stare at her pretty face and fair hands—and then sneak a few more glances at Zhang Jingshan, who was sitting beside her in brand-new work clothes and white sneakers.
These two were clearly children of cadre families—so why weren’t they in the sleeper car, sitting with the rest of them in hard seats instead?
Chang Rufan was pleased with the reaction. She lifted her chin proudly, casually soaking in the curious looks and flattery, then turned to pester Zhang Jingshan for food.
Zhang Jingshan handed her a baked flatbread and a tea egg, then hesitated for a moment before pulling out an orange and gently calling out to Miao Qing.
Miao Qing opened her eyes, a little irritated.
After all that commotion earlier, her body felt weak and sore. She was just circulating her energy to recover—what did he want now?
She looked at the orange he offered. It was about the size of a fist, bright golden-yellow, and looked pretty appetizing.
Oranges had seeds. Seeds could sprout into seedlings, and seedlings could grow into trees.
For her, as long as she had one seed, she’d have countless oranges.
Swallowing the urge to drool, Miao Qing slowly opened her satchel and, pretending to rummage through it, pulled out three hawthorns from her space and handed them over.
Her satchel contained nothing but her documents, a few changes of clothes, an aluminum lunchbox, an enamel cup, a towel, and five coarse grain steamed buns.
That was all the luggage Miao Jiang and Miao Hong had prepared for her.
Oh, and the one yuan note her brother had shoved into her hand right before boarding.
They probably never stopped to think how she was supposed to survive a winter in the Northwest with only these things.
Maybe they never expected her to make it through the winter at all.
But before she left, she’d already stashed away cotton-padded clothes and quilts, an enamel basin, a thermos, a flashlight, and more—all into her space.
Along with Miao Jiang and Miao Hong’s hidden savings—35 yuan, 8 jiao, and 6 fen in total—her scumbag father’s stashed 60 yuan, five packs of cigarettes, a bottle of liquor, seven silver dollars, and a small bag of hawthorns she’d grown herself.
She’d wanted to cultivate other, tastier fruits, but the only tree in the residential compound was a hawthorn. And if the fruit hadn’t been too small and unripe, it would’ve been picked clean by someone else long before she got the chance.
In those days, who had surplus food? If it was edible, nobody let it go to waste.
Zhang Jingshan looked at the hawthorns Miao Qing had handed him—plump, glossy red, resting in her fair palm like tiny gems. They were beautiful to look at.
And he wasn’t the only one drawn to them—the people around were curious too.
“Are those hawthorns? They’re not usually this red at this time of year.”
“Ours at home haven’t grown that big either. Hers look as big as crabapples!”
“They look delicious. I’d like to try one…”
Zhang Jingshan quickly accepted the hawthorns and gave the orange to Miao Qing.
Miao Qing peeled the orange and popped a segment into her mouth—sweet and tangy, with plump seeds. Three hawthorns for one orange? Not a bad trade at all.
Zhang Jingshan took a bite of his hawthorn too and raised his eyebrows in pleasant surprise. It tasted even better than crabapples.
Chang Rufan deliberately leaned over and asked,
“Jingshan, isn’t it really sour? Hawthorns are only good when they’re candied on a stick. Eating them plain is always awful.”
“Sour, but even sweeter. It’s delicious—the best hawthorn I’ve ever had.”
Zhang Jingshan took another bite, not sparing any praise.
“I don’t believe it. How could a hawthorn be sweet?”
Chang Rufan snatched one from his hand and took a bite. She wanted to say it was terrible, but her mouth was more honest than her brain—she finished it in one go.
Seeing her reaction, the people around grew even more tempted. Someone couldn’t help but ask Miao Qing,
“Do you have any more of those hawthorns? Could I trade some dry rations for them?”
Miao Qing certainly wasn’t going to turn down an offer like that—dry rations were exactly what she needed most right now.
Because the original owner’s mother had been kind to her, Miao Qing hadn’t taken any of her things or any of the family’s food.
After trading the hawthorns for a baked flatbread, two steamed buns, and three cornmeal buns, she claimed she had no more and didn’t dare make any more trades.
Better safe than sorry. Her little satchel wasn’t that big—it wouldn’t make sense for it to hold that many hawthorns anyway.
When Zhang Jingshan traded his flatbread for her hawthorns earlier, someone had already sneered with envy, saying that no matter how good the hawthorns tasted, they wouldn’t fill you up—only someone with a broken brain would trade a flatbread for them.
More importantly, the seat next to her—which had been empty—was finally occupied.
A strikingly beautiful girl in khaki work clothes sat down and introduced herself with confidence and ease:
“Hello everyone, my name is Wei Ran. I’m an educated youth from Xu County. I’m 18, just graduated high school, and in response to the nation’s call, I’ve volunteered to return to my hometown in the Northwest to contribute my share! I believe the vast countryside holds great potential, and it’s an honor to go to the countryside with all of you!”
Wei Ran’s words were passionate and stirring, and the people around her were visibly moved.
Zhang Jingshan’s gaze toward her also carried a hint of admiration—he too had volunteered to go.
His father had said that the political situation was complicated right now, and instead of wasting time in the city, it would be better to go to the countryside and perform well. Maybe then he’d have a chance to be recommended for university as a Worker-Peasant-Soldier student.
Compared to Miao Qing, who looked young and hadn’t fully developed, the beautiful and shapely Wei Ran made Chang Rufan feel far more threatened.
The educated youth, who knew nothing about the rural Northwest thousands of miles away, eagerly crowded around Wei Ran to ask about the situation there.
Wei Ran was very good-tempered, answering every question patiently and in detail, which only made everyone like her more—and made Chang Rufan even more jealous and resentful.
Seeing Chang Rufan roll her eyes at her without any pretense, Wei Ran smiled even more brightly.
In her past life, she’d been blind and foolish. Instead of pursuing a gentle, well-born man like Zhang Jingshan, she’d fallen for that playboy Fang Mingyuan.
He’d ruined her reputation and dashed any hope of returning to the city. She’d suffered in the village for seven long years, wearing down her health in the process.
When she finally managed to go back to the city, her family had no place for her. She’d rushed into marriage, only to be abandoned for being unable to bear children, and died of illness before she even turned thirty.
And that ugly, talentless Wang Haiyan? Just because Chang Rufan had distanced herself from Zhang Jingshan to protect herself after his father’s downfall—shoving him into a ditch and breaking his leg—Wang Haiyan carried him back and took care of him for a few days, Zhang Jingshan was so grateful that he married her, took her back to the city, and even got her a job at the Xinhua Bookstore.
Meanwhile, short-sighted and selfish Chang Rufan could never have imagined that less than a year after Zhang Jingshan’s father fell, her own father would be finished too. When Zhang Jingshan returned to the city with Wang Haiyan, Chang Rufan was still slogging away in the village.
Chang Rufan had brought it on herself—she’d squandered a winning hand. But Wei Ran? She’d been ruined by that scumbag Fang Mingyuan.
Since heaven had given her a second chance, there was no way she’d let the loyal and devoted Zhang Jingshan fall into Wang Haiyan’s hands again.
Speaking of Wang Haiyan—where was she anyway?
In her past life, hadn’t she been on this very carriage, heading to the countryside with Liu Gang and Li Qiang?
Liu Gang and Li Qiang were both here—so where had she gone?