Zhong Dawa’s biological mother was a citizen of Shencheng. Though her family background was average, she had hardly cooked a meal in her life before marriage—not because she was busy with school or because she was naturally lazy, but because Dawa’s maternal grandmother was afraid she would sneak food from the kitchen.
Zhong Jianguo couldn’t cook and while Dawa’s mother’s cooking wasn’t great, he never complained—it was at least better than his own and she could at least make sure the food was properly cooked.
Last night, when Song Zhaodi served the white rice porridge, Zhong Jianguo could tell at a glance that she was a much better cook than his late wife.
Even a simple stir-fried lettuce dish was made flavourful and visually appealing by her. At that moment, Zhong Jianguo made up his mind—if this wife didn’t have any major issues, he would keep her. That was also why he forced Zhong Dawa to promise to listen to his stepmother.
Now, seeing the golden, crispy egg pancakes, Zhong Jianguo couldn’t help but envy his sons. But he didn’t want the woman who had fooled him to feel too pleased with herself. “You’re also the most cunning stepmother.”
“Zhong Jianguo, do you need me to pour you tea and admit my mistakes? Or maybe kneel down and beg for your forgiveness?” Song Zhaodi glared at him.
Commander Zhong waved his hand dismissively. “I’m afraid that would shorten my lifespan. But you do have to tell me—who taught you how to draw?”
“Draw?” Song Zhaodi was puzzled. “What drawing?”
“The blueprint you gave me yesterday. The chair sketch looked incredibly realistic,” Zhong Jianguo said.
“Oh, that.” Song Zhaodi shrugged. “Anyone with a bit of sketching skills could draw that.”
Zhong Jianguo snorted, clearly unconvinced. “Why do I feel like everything sounds ridiculously easy when it comes from your mouth?”
“Because I’m a smart and straightforward person,” Song Zhaodi said. Then, she paused and added, “I think I hear your youngest crying.”
Zhong Jianguo frowned. “You think I’d still—”
“Dad! Dad! Little brother is awake!”
Zhong Dawa’s voice rang out from the staircase. Zhong Jianguo immediately got up and ran out.
“Pfft!” Song Zhaodi burst into laughter.
Zhong Jianguo stumbled slightly, turned back to glare at her and called out, “Dawa, Erwa, come down and let your stepmother wash your faces.”
“Petty,” Song Zhaodi muttered, placing the cabbage and egg pancakes on the small square table. She then ladled out several bowls of porridge. Seeing that Dawa was holding Erwa’s hand and waiting patiently, she wiped the rice porridge off her hands and took both children by the hand. “We’ll have porridge again this morning, noodles for lunch and steamed buns in the afternoon.”
Zhong Jianguo carried Sanwa out and tossed the baby’s wet diaper near the water pump. Hearing Song Zhaodi’s words, he quickly reminded her, “Don’t make too many. Ten or so buns will be enough for two days.”
“How many do you eat in one sitting?” Song Zhaodi asked.
“I won’t be home for lunch. And I don’t eat much at night. The weather here is humid—steamed buns go mouldy in three or four days. It’s not like the north, where they can last for ten days or more.”
“You’re not lying to me?” Song Zhaodi was sceptical.
Zhong Jianguo shot her a look. “Do you think I’m you?”
“Dad! Dad! The chickens! The chickens!” Zhong Dawa suddenly shouted.
Zhong Jianguo replied, “I remember what you said.”
After breakfast, Zhong Jianguo saw that it was still early—before 8 am. He cleaned up the pots and dishes before grabbing a folder and heading to the military camp.
When Zhong Jianguo had returned home for his arranged marriage, Chief Liu had suggested that he bring his guard along. Zhong Jianguo thought it would be ridiculous to have a ‘bodyguard’ accompany him. Since there was no place for the guard to stay at his home, the man would have to lodge at a guesthouse instead. Given that, bringing him along made no real difference, so he left him behind.
After Zhong Jianguo left, his guard, Xiao Li, found himself with nothing to do. When he heard yesterday that Zhong Jianguo had returned, he had gone to check on the Zhong household. But seeing smoke rising from the chimney, he realised they were busy cooking and decided to leave.
This morning, Xiao Li had run straight to Zhong Jianguo’s office, waiting outside. As soon as he spotted him from afar, he sprinted over. “Commander!”
“You seem energetic,” Zhong Jianguo remarked as he looked him over. “Is Political Commissar Zhang in?”
Xiao Li saluted. “Reporting, Commander! Political Commissar Zhang is in.”
“I need to discuss something with him. You don’t need to follow me,” Zhong Jianguo instructed. “There’s a lot going on at home. Your saozi is taking care of three kids and has her hands full. Go over and help her.”
Whenever there was a maritime patrol mission, the commander or chief would always send soldiers to check if military families needed assistance. Before becoming Zhong Jianguo’s guard, Xiao Li had helped many soldiers’ families with household chores. This was nothing new to him. He saluted Zhong Jianguo and ran toward the Zhong household.
When Song Zhaodi heard knocking at the door, she wanted to get up to answer it, but she looked down—one hand was holding chrysanthemums, the other a shovel. “Dawa, go open the door.”
“The door isn’t locked. Come in,” Dawa said, standing up. He saw a large head peeking over the bamboo gate and immediately recognised him. “It’s Uncle Xiao Li!”
Song Zhaodi deliberately asked, “Who are you talking to?”
The child opened his mouth to say “you,” but then he remembered his father had told him not to be impolite. Not wanting to call her “Mom,” he pointed at his little brother instead. “Erwa.”
“You little clever fox,” Song Zhaodi said with amusement as she walked over. “Xiao Li, are you here looking for Commander Zhong?”
Xiao Li grinned. “No, the Commander sent me to see if I could help you with anything.”
“He told you that?” Song Zhaodi asked. “Didn’t he say anything else?”
Xiao Li thought carefully for a moment. “No.”
“My chicken—didn’t my dad say anything about that?” Zhong Dawa asked eagerly.
Xiao Li was confused. “What chicken?”
“Wait a moment.” Song Zhaodi turned around and went back inside. As she passed by Zhong Dawa, she ruffled his hair. “Your dad forgot, but I didn’t.” She went inside and took out five yuan and a ration book. “Help me buy a chicken and also get seven or eight wooden planks and some nails.”
“Saozi, I can help you buy eggs, but I really can’t buy a chicken for you,” Xiao Li said, afraid she might misunderstand. “Our military unit requires meat coupons for pork, but not for chicken, duck, or goose. However, duck and goose meat aren’t very popular, so everyone buys chicken to improve their meals. If you want to buy a chicken, you have to notify the food supply factory in advance.”
Song Zhaodi’s eyelid twitched. “Jianguo didn’t mention this to me.”
“The commander probably doesn’t know,” Xiao Li explained, noticing that Song Zhaodi’s expression didn’t look right. “You don’t think he deliberately kept it from you, do you? That’s not the case. When Dawa’s mother was here, Duan dasao from the neighbouring house, used to buy vegetables for her. The commander rarely bought groceries himself, so he probably doesn’t know how hard it is to get a chicken.”
Song Zhaodi turned to Zhong Dawa. “When you were in Shencheng, your dad didn’t buy groceries either?”
“Grandma did,” Zhong Dawa replied. “Grandma was bad. Mom gave her money to buy meat, but she only bought vegetables and never bought meat.”
Song Zhaodi asked, “So, you and your mom lived at your grandma’s house and your dad lived in the military camp?”
“Sometimes he stayed, sometimes he didn’t,” Zhong Dawa said.
Song Zhaodi turned to Xiao Li. “Is that true?”
“Back then, I was still in the Eighth Company, so I wasn’t familiar with the commander’s family affairs,” Xiao Li replied. “But when the unit was transferred here, I heard that the commander personally drove to Dawa’s grandmother’s house to pick up his wife.”
Zhong Jianguo had never voluntarily mentioned Dawa’s biological mother. Song Zhaodi had assumed he avoided the topic out of consideration for her, but it seemed he simply didn’t want to talk about it. “The Eighth Company you’re talking about—is it the famous Nanjing Road Good Eighth Company1?”
“Saozi knows about it?” Xiao Li was surprised.
“The Eighth Company is well-known. I’ve heard classmates mention it before,” Song Zhaodi said. She handed him the money. “Take this. If you can get a chicken, buy one. If not, get an old duck instead. As for the wooden planks, use the remaining money to buy as many chicken and duck eggs as possible—preferably fertilised ones that can hatch into chicks and ducklings.”
“Alright, I’ll go check.” Xiao Li turned to leave but suddenly noticed someone standing outside the bamboo fence. “Saozi, why are you standing there?”
Following Xiao Li’s gaze, Song Zhaodi saw a short, dark-skinned and slender woman, about 1.53 metres tall. She smiled and greeted her. “Saozi, come in and have a seat.”
The woman smiled shyly. “You look busy, so I didn’t want to disturb you. Did you arrive yesterday?”
Song Zhaodi opened the bamboo gate wide. “Yes, yesterday afternoon. I wanted to visit, but the yard was a mess, so I decided not to disturb you.” As she spoke, she glanced at the woman’s hands. Just as Zhong Jianguo had mentioned, the bones in her fingers protruded noticeably. “Dawa, go get a stool for your aunt.”
Duan dasao quickly waved her hand. “No need, no need. How are you cleaning up? Let me help you.”
“Ah?” Song Zhaodi was momentarily stunned. Seeing that the woman didn’t seem to be saying it out of politeness, she laughed. “Just keep an eye on Sanwa for me. I can manage on my own.”
Zhong Dawa had promised his father to listen to his stepmother. Without hesitation, he ran inside, grabbed a small stool and placed it beside Sanwa.
Hearing the sound, Duan dasao turned around, smiled and said, “Dawa is such a good boy.” Then, she turned back to Song Zhaodi. “Are you sure you don’t need help?”
“No need,” Song Zhaodi replied while replanting flowers. “Saozi, Jianguo said Sanwa is already one year old. Normally, he should be able to walk and call for his dad by now. He still can’t talk—is it because we haven’t been teaching him?”
Duan dasao, who knew how to grow vegetables and crops but not flowers, picked up Sanwa instead. “Sanwa’s birthday is at the end of the ninth lunar month. He hasn’t actually turned one yet, so it’s normal that he can’t speak. But, dameizi, when you have free time, you should teach him to walk. Once he starts walking, you can have Dawa and Erwa watch him and you’ll be able to free up your hands for other things.”
“That’s what I was thinking too,” Song Zhaodi replied. “Saozi, do you know where I can hatch chicks and ducklings?”
Duan dasao asked, “You want to raise chickens and ducks?”
“Yes,” Song Zhaodi said. “I originally planned to buy chicks, but since Xiao Li told me chicken meat is in high demand, I doubt I’ll be able to buy chicks either. If I raise chickens and ducks myself, I won’t have to buy eggs and when the kids crave meat, I can just slaughter a chicken. That way, I won’t have to worry about not having enough meat coupons all the time.”
“That makes sense,” Duan dasao agreed. “I told Dawa’s mother the same thing before. But she was too busy taking care of the three kids, so she never raised any. Let Xiao Li bring the eggs to my house later—I have a mother hen that can hatch them.”
“Thank you, saozi,” Song Zhaodi said. She wiped the sweat off her face and stretched her waist, noticing that she had only planted a quarter of the bamboo fence wall with flowers. She sighed. That ‘proper young lady’ was tiring her to death. She turned to Duan dasao. “Saozi, do you want some flowers?”
Duan dasao didn’t quite understand. “What flowers?”
“It’d be a waste to throw them away,” Song Zhaodi said while keeping an eye on Zhong Dawa’s expression. “But if I don’t pull them out, there won’t be any space to raise chickens and ducks.”
Duan dasao didn’t hesitate. “I don’t know how to grow them.”
“These flowers are easier to take care of than vegetables,” Song Zhaodi assured her. “Once you plant them, you don’t need to water them, fertilise them, or deal with pests. When it’s time to bloom, they’ll bloom on their own.”
Duan dasao was sceptical. “Is it really that easy?”
“It’s not that it’s easy; they’re just easy-to-grow flowers,” Song Zhaodi said. “Shall I dig up a few for you?”
Duan dasao had always admired the vibrant flowers in the Zhong family’s courtyard but never dared to ask for any, fearing she might kill them and upset Dawa’s biological mother. Now that Song Zhaodi offered, she was tempted. “Give me two of each.”
“Dawa, is that okay?” Song Zhaodi asked.
Since the birth of Sanwa, Duan dasao had helped take care of the Zhong children. Zhong Dawa liked her, so he nodded and said, “You can take two more,” holding up two fingers.
Duan dasao laughed. “Our Dawa is such a good child. Auntie thanks you.”
With Dawa’s approval, Song Zhaodi, after planting flowers around the Zhong family’s bamboo fence, moved the remaining flowers to the Liu family’s yard.
As she planted the last chrysanthemum, she noticed the Liu family’s garden had green cucumbers, purple eggplants, red tomatoes, fennel and a Sichuan pepper tree. She couldn’t help but admire it. “Saozi, you grow so many vegetables.”
“Shall I pick some for you?” Duan dasao offered.
Song Zhaodi waved her hand. “No need. Dawa’s father bought plenty of vegetables yesterday, enough for two days.” She washed her hands and took Sanwa into her arms. “I feel like the ground is wetter than yesterday. Is it going to rain?”
“Yes,” Duan dasao said. “If you plan to go out this afternoon, remember to bring in your clothes and close the windows. When it rains here, it often comes with wind.”
Song Zhaodi smiled. “Got it. Thanks, saozi. I’ll come to you if I have any questions.”
“Of course.” Duan dasao smiled. “Xiao Li is back. Looks like he’s carrying a duck. I guess he couldn’t buy a chicken.”
Song Zhaodi glanced over and saw Xiao Li push the door open. She turned to Dawa. “Can a duck do?”
“No,” Zhong Dawa pouted. “It doesn’t taste good.”
Song Zhaodi pinched his cheek. “You should be grateful to have food.” Then she said to Duan dasao, “We’re heading back.”
“Go slowly,” Duan dasao said, watching them leave before turning back to her home. She glanced at the newly arranged bamboo fence and couldn’t help but smile. Then she went inside, grabbed a sieve and picked cucumbers, eggplants and tomatoes.
Meanwhile, Zhong Jianguo dismissed Xiao Li and asked Political Commissar Zhang whether, if he suspected something was wrong with his own family, he should investigate himself or let a higher authority handle it.
Without hesitation, Political Commissar Zhang replied, “Hand it over to the organisation.”
So the two of them went to see Commander Liu.
After hearing Zhong Jianguo’s request, Commander Liu nearly choked on his saliva. “What did you just say? You want me to send people to investigate your new wife, Song Zhaodi?”
“Yes,” Zhong Jianguo answered seriously.
Seeing his expression, Commander Liu became serious as well. “Xiao Zhong, if I remember correctly, Song Zhaodi is also the daughter of your stepmother’s cousin? Your stepmother’s main social connections are all farmers. By external standards, the Song family has a spotless background, even cleaner than yours. What is there to investigate? Your wife isn’t a soldier.”
“My wife isn’t a soldier. She’s a university student,” Zhong Jianguo said.
These words hit like a thunderclap, leaving Commander Liu and Political Commissar Zhang utterly stunned.
- The Nanjing Road Good Eighth Company (南京路上好八连) refers to a renowned unit of the Chinese People’s Liberation Army (PLA), known for its discipline and strong ties with the civilian population. Stationed in Shanghai after the city’s liberation in 1949, the unit became famous for its exemplary conduct on Nanjing Road, a bustling commercial street. ↩︎
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