By the time work ended, the sky had already darkened.
Lu Zhanye was waiting beside the stone roller at the threshing ground. When he saw Lin Wan walking over with a hoe on her shoulder, he stepped forward to meet her.
“Tomorrow morning, we’ll go register our marriage,” he said directly.
Lin Wan’s steps paused briefly, then she nodded. “Alright. I’ll ask for leave.”
And just like that, the matter was settled.
..
Early the next morning, at the first crow of the rooster, Lin Wan woke up.
She carefully combed her hair, changed into the blue work jacket with the fewest patches, and washed her face with cold water. In the mirror, the young woman’s expression was calm. There was none of the bashfulness of a bride-to-be in her eyes—she looked more like someone preparing to handle an important piece of business.
Just as she finished getting ready, the sound of a bicycle bell came from outside.
Lu Zhanye stood in the courtyard pushing a fairly new Forever-brand bicycle. A bulging cloth bag hung from the handlebars. Today he wore a cleaner military-green jacket, and his hair had been neatly combed. He looked crisp and energetic.
“Let’s go,” he said.
Lin Wan said goodbye to Zhou Xiaomei and the others before following him out. Several female educated youths pressed themselves against the windows to watch, their expressions complicated—a mixture of envy, curiosity, and concern.
Lu Zhanye handed her the cloth bag.
“My mother made pancakes. Eat them on the way.”
Lin Wan accepted it. The bag was still warm.
“Sit in the back.” He patted the rear bicycle seat.
Lin Wan sat sideways on the back, gripping the spring beneath the seat. Lu Zhanye pushed down on the pedal, and the bicycle rolled steadily out of the educated youth courtyard.
The northeastern morning air was so crisp it felt like spring water chilled with ice. Tender green buds had just begun appearing on the poplar trees lining the road, forming a hazy wash of green in the distance. The dirt road was uneven, and the bicycle bumped constantly. Lin Wan tightened her grip on the seat as her body swayed gently with the motion.
The ten-kilometer journey took around forty minutes.
Along the way they occasionally passed villagers heading to early work shifts. Seeing them together, people smiled knowingly.
“Zhanye, taking your girl to town?”
“Mm.” Lu Zhanye answered without slowing down.
Sitting behind him, Lin Wan watched his back.
Broad shoulders. Straight spine. Distinct muscle lines in his arms as he pedaled.
This man truly was someone who could shoulder responsibility.
The town itself was small—a single main street lined with the supply cooperative, the post office, the clinic, and a state-owned restaurant. There were few pedestrians. Every now and then an ox cart clattered past.
Lu Zhanye parked the bicycle in front of the Civil Affairs Bureau—which, in reality, was just two plain brick rooms with a faded wooden sign hanging outside.
“Did you bring the introduction letter?” he asked.
“I did.” Lin Wan pulled out a neatly folded paper from inside her coat. It had been issued by the village, stamped with the red seal of the production team.
Lu Zhanye took out his own as well. Together, they entered the office.
Inside sat only a middle-aged female clerk drinking water from an enamel mug. Seeing them come in, she lowered the mug.
“What business?”
“We’re here to register our marriage.” Lu Zhanye handed over the two introduction letters.
The clerk examined them, then looked the pair over.
“Voluntary?”
“Voluntary,” they answered in unison.
The clerk nodded and pulled out two sheets of red paper from the drawer—less like certificates and more like award notices. They were ordinary red paper with golden “double happiness” characters printed at the top, followed by blank forms beneath.
She picked up a fountain pen, dipped it in ink, and began filling them out:
Lu Zhanye, male, twenty-two years old.
Lin Wan, female, eighteen years old.
Under work unit, she wrote: “Xiangyang Production Team Members.”
Under class background, she wrote: “Poor peasants.”
When she finished, she pushed over an ink pad.
“Fingerprint here.”
One after the other, they pressed red fingerprints beside their names. The clerk then picked up the official seal and stamped the papers with a loud thump.
“Done.” She handed the two “certificates” back to them. “Congratulations. Here’s a half-jin sugar coupon.”
The sugar coupon was a tiny slip of paper printed with the words: “Special Candy Coupon — Half Jin.”
Lu Zhanye carefully folded the marriage certificate and tucked it inside his coat. Lin Wan did the same.
Those two thin sheets of red paper were now their legal proof of marriage.
When they stepped out of the Civil Affairs Bureau, the sunlight was bright and warm.
Lu Zhanye glanced at the sugar coupon in his hand. “Let’s go to the supply cooperative.”
There weren’t many people inside. Behind the counter stood a young woman with two braided pigtails. The moment she saw Lu Zhanye, her eyes lit up.
“Brother Zhanye! Buying something?”
“Candy.” Lu Zhanye handed over the coupon. “Half a jin of fruit candy.”
The young woman quickly weighed out the candy, wrapping it neatly into a little triangle packet with yellow wax paper and tying it with string. Lu Zhanye paid the money—the coupon only granted permission to buy it; payment was still required.
After they left the cooperative, he handed the candy packet to Lin Wan.
“When we go back, give wedding candy to the people at the educated youth dormitory. Keep the rest for yourself.”
Lin Wan accepted the packet. It felt pleasantly heavy, and she could hear the rustling sound of candy pieces bumping against one another inside.
“Alright,” she said.
Lu Zhanye pushed the bicycle onward, but instead of returning to the main street, he turned into a narrow alley.
The alley was cramped, lined on both sides with low mud-brick houses. Old newspapers were pasted against the walls, many already peeling away.
Following him, Lin Wan more or less guessed what was going on.
After winding through several turns, they stopped in front of a small courtyard gate. It was an ordinary wooden gate, no different from the surrounding homes. Lu Zhanye stepped forward and knocked three times—not too hard, not too soft.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
After about half a minute, the door opened a crack.
A middle-aged man’s face appeared from inside. He looked around fifty, with dark skin and deep wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.
“Brother Ma,” Lu Zhanye greeted quietly.
The man said nothing. He simply stepped aside to let them in.
The courtyard was tiny. A water well sat in the center, with a pile of firewood stacked nearby. Inside, the room was equally sparse—a heated kang bed, one table, and two stools.
Brother Ma walked to a cabinet beside the kang, opened it, and took out a cloth bundle, handing it to Lu Zhanye.
“Everything’s in here,” he said in a hoarse voice. “The factory-second cloth you wanted, plus hair ties and clips girls like. All legitimate goods. Don’t worry.”
Lu Zhanye took the bundle and weighed it in his hand. “Thanks, Brother Ma.”
“No need to be polite.” Brother Ma waved dismissively, then glanced at Lin Wan. “So this is your wife?”
“Mm. We registered today.”
Brother Ma nodded without saying much more. “Be careful. Things have been a little tense lately.”
“Understood.”
The two of them didn’t stay long. Lu Zhanye hung the bundle on the handlebars and pushed the bicycle back out through the gate.
Behind them, Brother Ma shut the door, and the alley returned to silence once more.