Half a month after Lin Wan left, the Lin family finally realized something was wrong.
It started when Wang Xiuqin discovered that money and ration coupons were missing from the five-drawer cabinet—one hundred yuan gone, along with grain coupons and cloth coupons. She exploded on the spot, rummaging frantically through the house, until she finally found a note underneath Lin Jianguo’s enamel mug.
The handwriting on the paper was neat—beautiful, even—but the message was brief:
“I took half the money and coupons. Consider it payment for eighteen years of work. I’ve gone to the Northeast countryside. Don’t worry about me.”
No greeting. No signature. Not even the words “Mom” or “Dad.”
Lin Jianguo was so furious he tore the note into pieces. “Outrageous! Absolutely outrageous! She dared steal the family’s money!”
Wang Xiuqin collapsed into a chair, slapping her thigh as she cried. “That ungrateful wretch! We raised her all these years, and before leaving she steals from us! One hundred yuan! Do you know how much that can buy?”
“To the Educated Youth Office!” Lin Jianguo grabbed his coat. “We’ll find out where she went and get the money back!”
The couple rushed straight to the neighborhood educated youth office.
The same female clerk received them. After hearing their purpose, she adjusted her glasses, her expression calm. “Comrade Lin Wan did indeed volunteer to go to the countryside. She left half a month ago.”
“Where did she go?” Lin Jianguo demanded anxiously. “Tell us the exact address!”
“Regulations do not allow us to disclose that.” The clerk’s tone was purely official. “Educated youths going to the countryside are answering the nation’s call. It is an honorable thing. Comrade Lin Wan volunteered willingly and showed a positive attitude. We should support her.”
Wang Xiuqin panicked. “Comrade, she stole the family’s money! Over a hundred yuan! You have to tell us where she is so we can get it back!”
The clerk glanced at her, a trace of coldness flashing through her eyes. “When educated youths go to the countryside, it is only proper for their families to provide travel expenses and living costs. As for the exact amount, that is your family matter. We are only responsible for placement and assignment.”
“But that was theft—”
“Comrade,” the clerk interrupted, her voice becoming sterner, “the entire country is supporting rural development right now. These educated youths are leaving their homes behind to go to difficult places. Their families should encourage and support them, not obsess over a little money.”
Lin Jianguo wanted to argue further, but the clerk had already stood up. “I still have work to do. Please leave.”
The couple were effectively ushered out of the office.
Standing outside the neighborhood office, the March wind cut through them bitterly. Wang Xiuqin continued crying and cursing. “That damned girl… her wings hardened and she flew away, stealing money before she left…”
Lin Jianguo’s face was dark and grim, but he said nothing.
Deep down, he knew the money was never coming back. The educated youth office was clearly protecting Lin Wan—they would not even reveal her address. And even if they did, the Northeast was enormous. How could they possibly track down the exact production team?
More importantly, if they made a huge fuss about it, the neighbors would all learn that his daughter had stolen money and run away. Where would he put his face then?
“Let’s go home,” Lin Jianguo said through gritted teeth. “Just pretend we never had this daughter.”
Wang Xiuqin cried the whole way back.
But despite her tears, she understood too: once Lin Wan left, she probably would never return.
The second daughter who had once been the least noticeable and most obedient in the household had severed her final ties to the family in the most resolute way possible.
Northeast China, Xiangyang Production Team.
The blisters on Lin Wan’s hands had already hardened into thick calluses.
Half a month of clearing stubble, turning soil, and hauling manure every single day. The skin on her hands had worn through layer after layer before finally toughening into hard calluses. Her waist still ached, but no longer so badly that she could not straighten up like on the first day. She had learned how to use leverage, how to regulate her breathing, how to conserve strength during endless labor.
Her work points had gradually risen from seven a day to eight, then nine. Yesterday she earned ten work points—the first full score she had ever received.
But she knew clearly that it was still far from enough.
Meals at the educated youth dormitory were becoming increasingly difficult to stomach. Everyone took turns cooking, and skill levels varied wildly. The corn porridge was often overcooked, or the pickled vegetables oversalted. Food was limited, and everyone watched their own ration carefully, afraid of being shortchanged.
Lin Wan rarely spoke. She simply ate, worked, and rested in silence. She got along reasonably well with Zhou Xiaomei and Sun Xiuying, but none of them were especially close. Everyone was too exhausted to invest energy into friendship.
That afternoon after work, the setting sun dyed the western sky orange-red. Lin Wan carried her hoe back toward the village, the fresh blisters on her hands burning painfully.
“Lin Wan.”
A deep male voice sounded behind her.
She turned around and saw Lu Zhanye standing beside the stone mill in the threshing ground. He wore a worn military-green jacket with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing strong, solid arms. The sunset behind him outlined his entire figure in gold.
Lin Wan stopped walking. “Comrade Lu, is something the matter?”
Lu Zhanye walked over with steady steps. He was more than a head taller than her, and when he approached he had to lower his head slightly to look at her.
“Let’s talk,” he said. “Down by the river?”
Lin Wan’s heart stirred faintly.
She nodded. “Alright.”
The two left the threshing ground one after another. Along the way they passed villagers returning from work. Some cast curious glances their way, but no one asked questions. Lu Zhanye seemed to possess a special kind of presence in the village—he did not speak much, but nobody dared provoke him casually.
By the time they reached the river outside the village, the sun had already half set. A branch of the Songhua River curved nearby. The river was not especially wide, but the current was gentle. Willow trees lined the banks, their branches just beginning to sprout tender green buds.
Lu Zhanye stopped beneath an old willow tree and turned to face her.
“My name is Lu Zhanye. I’m twenty-two years old, second son in my family. My father is the production team leader. My older brother is married and has already split off into his own household.” He spoke calmly, every word clear. “I don’t have an official job, but I’ve got a few connections. I can make money.”
Lin Wan listened quietly, though her heartbeat quickened slightly.
“I have a house—a homestead allocated by the village. Three rooms, a private courtyard. There’s a heated brick bed, so you won’t freeze in winter.” He continued, “My family also has a bicycle. I can ride it sometimes.”
After saying this, he paused and looked directly into her eyes.
“Do you have someone already?”
Lin Wan did not avoid his gaze. “No.”
“Then look at me,” Lu Zhanye said bluntly, without the slightest attempt at subtlety. “Do you think the two of us are suited for marriage?”
The river breeze stirred the willow branches gently.
In the distance came the cries of birds returning home.