Su Mi took out two cans of luncheon meat. She didn’t want to pretend to be poor—she had the means, and if she pretended and was discovered, it would only bring unnecessary trouble.
It was better to be open from the start and let others know, but also to make them aware that she wasn’t someone to be trifled with. So, she openly took out two cans of meat, the large-sized ones at that.
As soon as she took them out, the person in charge of cooking that day took them, sliced them thinly, and arranged them on four separate plates.
With a bit of everything, they managed to fill a large table.
Su Mi had never eaten mixed-grain cornbread before, so she picked one up to examine it. The color wasn’t appealing, and it didn’t smell particularly fragrant.
In her mouth, it felt incredibly coarse. Su Mi chewed it for a long, long time. Perhaps due to the ample saliva, by the end, she detected a faint sweetness—the natural flavor of the food itself.
Although it wasn’t as unbearable as some novels described—scratching the throat painfully—it was still far from easy to swallow.
Su Mi didn’t ladle any of the porridge-like soup from the pot. Instead, she poured herself a bowl of plain boiled water from another educated youth and managed to finish one cornbread, along with two slices of the luncheon meat she had brought and a small piece of preserved egg.
After that, she stopped eating.
As for introducing herself during the meal, she only mentioned her name at the very beginning. Where she was from? How old she was? She didn’t say. Mainly because there were dozens of people crammed into the kitchen, with some even standing outside the door—it was simply too crowded.
Everyone had a bowl of porridge and a cornbread, and they would take a bite of whatever was on the table. They tried to leave more of the dishes for others, just tasting a bit to feel included.
This way, when one dish was finished, they moved on to the next. There were no instances of anyone trying to hog or snatch food.
After the meal, everyone washed their own bowls and chopsticks. Those in charge of cooking naturally had to clean the kitchen and stove. They were also responsible for boiling water for all the educated youth, filling the thermoses, and then heating more water for everyone to soak their feet.
After a day of farm work, soaking their feet helped relieve fatigue.
Even though only two people were on cooking duty that day, cooking for dozens was still quite tiring. However, everyone had agreed that on the day they cooked, each person would be credited half a work point. In the end, this arrangement was quite cost-effective—it was less exhausting than working in the fields and earned more.
Still, these were recorded in individual notebooks. The person in charge also kept a record book. At the end of the year, the production team would tally the work points, and then they would close the door and calculate their own shares for final distribution.
The principle was fair and just—distribution according to labor.
So, at first, those who claimed they would cook for themselves eventually weighed the pros and cons and returned to the group to eat from the communal pot once they adapted to the environment.
Su Mi returned to her room. By then, the sky was already growing dark.
“Su Mi, I was waiting for you to come back. I just checked the rooms of the other educated youth next door, and there are quite a few things we need to buy. But it’s getting late now, so we’ll have to go tomorrow morning. As for the lock on our door, do you have one? If so, how much was it? We can split the cost. If not, we’ll have to buy one tomorrow. When I was packing, I completely forgot about these things, and my mother didn’t prepare them for me either.”
As soon as she entered the room, He Caiwen launched into a flurry of words. The others who had arrived together were all sitting on the edge of the kang, clearly having discussed everything beforehand.
“I have neurasthenia and can’t sleep with even the slightest noise, so I’m planning to rent a place outside. You’ll have to buy the lock yourselves! But I do have a ready-made lock here—two industrial coupons and 2.5 yuan for a padlock. If you want it, I can get it for you.”
Li Meixian pursed her lips, mentally calculating how much each of the five should contribute to the 2.5 yuan and how to handle the two industrial coupons.
“Oh no, I don’t have any industrial coupons.”
Shi Caixia yelped, springing up from the edge of the kang and standing on the floor.
“Our girls’ dormitory really needs a lock, but I only have one industrial coupon.”
Wang Yajuan wasn’t worried about the money—her mother had given her several dozen yuan before leaving. What troubled her were the various ration tickets. Hearing that winters here could freeze people to death, her mother was still trying to find cotton and exchange for cotton ration tickets.
“Since we’re all educated youth sent down to the countryside together, just give me three yuan in total. As for the industrial coupons, I won’t charge you for those.”
Su Mi didn’t really care about these things, but she also didn’t want to let others take too much advantage, lest some people start pushing their luck.
If possible, she’d have given it away for free, but unfortunately, this wasn’t an era where one could afford to be overly generous.
“Wow! Su Mi, really? That’s so kind of you!”
Liu Wenli smiled warmly, genuinely pleased. The others naturally heard it too, and smiles spread across their faces.
“Since there are six of you, each can contribute fifty cents. If someone else moves in after I leave, you can ask them to share the cost too. That should work.”
Su Mi sat on her designated spot on the kang, wondering what she should bring when she visited the village chief later.
Wang Yajuan and the others were quick to act, soon pooling three yuan and handing it to Su Mi.
Without fuss, Su Mi rummaged through her backpack and soon pulled out a Triangle-brand lock with two original keys.
“As for who gets the keys, you can sort that out among yourselves.”
Su Mi handed over the keys, collected the money, tidied up her belongings, and headed out.
Assuming she was just going to the restroom, no one pressed further, instead focusing on distributing the keys based on their situation.
The houses in Niutou Village were sparsely built, with considerable distance between them. Most were made of adobe or mud and straw, with thatched roofs rather than tiles.
Several households even had proper thatched huts, the kind Su Mi had only seen before in scenic areas.
She couldn’t imagine how people survived the winter in such houses.
And the houses looked so low—even without stepping inside, she could sense how cramped they must be.
When they entered the village earlier, the village chief had pointed out where his house was.
So, finding it wasn’t too troublesome for Su Mi.
Everywhere was pitch black, and even the moonlight seemed dim tonight. Su Mi took a flashlight from her Dimensional Space, but to avoid drawing attention, she covered it with a makeshift cloth sleeve cut from a dull yellow piece of clothing, creating a makeshift shade.
This dimmed the light to a muted yellow, making it less likely for anyone to suspect the flashlight wasn’t locally produced.
She owed this bit of knowledge to the rural-era TV dramas she’d watched with her mother back in the day.
When she arrived, Su Mi was carrying a small bamboo basket containing a can of yellow peach preserves, a plain glass bottle holding half a kilogram of baijiu without any packaging, and a half-kilogram bag of white sugar.
“Is Village Chief Niu’s wife home?”
Village Chief Niu was smoking a pipe on his heated brick bed at home. They had just finished dinner, and his wife, Tian Cuilan, was mending clothes for their little grandson.