Song Zhaodi panicked and instinctively stood up. “Don’t… don’t tell me it’s the English book I wrote for you?”
Zhong Dawa nodded fiercely, unable to hold back any longer, and burst into tears.
Feeling a tightness in her chest, Song Zhaodi walked over to Dawa, picked him up, and wiped his tears. “Don’t cry, don’t cry. If it’s gone, it’s gone. I’ll write you another one in a few days.”
“Mom, I know—hic—she took the book.” Dawa, his eyes blurred with tears, clutched Song Zhaodi’s hand. “Mom, let’s go get it back, okay?”
Song Zhaodi gave a bitter smile. “I want to, but she’s on the ship. How can I chase after her?”
“Mom…” Dawa sniffled, accidentally sucking his snot back in.
Song Zhaodi’s forehead twitched. She picked up the tablecloth. “Let me wipe your nose.”
The child was so focused on his stolen book that he didn’t even notice anything was wrong with the cloth. He let Song Zhaodi pinch his nose. “Send a telegram to Auntie and ask her to get it back.”
“There are people in this world who, even if you catch them stealing, will never admit it,” Song Zhaodi said. “Your second aunt, your grandmother, and your maternal grandmother are all that kind of people.
“We could report it to the police, but for just one book? By law, all the police can do is scold a book thief. They won’t lock her up.”
Dawa frowned. “Why not? She’s a thief.”
“Because there are too many petty thieves like her, and the prisons can’t hold them all.” Song Zhaodi thought for a moment. “There’s an old saying: ‘Stealing chickens, swiping dogs, and pulling up garlic sprouts—enough to drive the police mad and exhaust the courts.’ It means there are just too many small-time thieves. We can’t rely entirely on the police—we have to protect our own belongings.”
Dawa lowered his head, ashamed. “I didn’t hide it well enough.”
“It’s not your fault. You’re still young and don’t yet understand the phrase ‘impossible to guard against.’” Song Zhaodi patted his head. “Consider this a lesson. Next time you see someone like your second aunt, stay far away. Okay?”
Dawa nodded vigorously. “Mom, don’t let her come to our house anymore.”
“She won’t,” Song Zhaodi assured him. “She stole from us. If something happens in her family and they send us a telegram, we won’t go. Even if our relatives and neighbours hear about it, no one will call us petty.”
Dawa lifted his head, testing the waters. “So, losing the book is actually a good thing?”
“If it means cutting ties with your second aunt, then yes, I think it is.” Song Zhaodi didn’t really want to say that, but seeing the child’s red-rimmed eyes, she continued, “I’ll send a telegram to your aunt soon. When your grandmother gets home and sees it, she’ll feel guilty and be disappointed in your second aunt.”
Dawa hesitated. “Then… will Grandma and Grandpa still visit?”
“They’ll feel like it’s their fault your book got stolen, so they probably won’t have the face to come for a while.” Song Zhaodi said, “By the time they think about visiting in a couple of years, they’ll be too old to travel. I doubt they’ll come again. But I still need to go back and see them. They’re my parents.”
Dawa immediately asked, “Will you see Second Aunt?”
“No, she lives far from Grandma’s house.” Song Zhaodi wiped away the last of his tears. “How about I teach you English using a first-year textbook?”
Dawa nodded, then hesitated and shook his head. “What do I tell Ma Zhenxing when he asks?”
Song Zhaodi had written those words to encourage all the island’s children to learn some English—not just for her three boys. “I’ll teach you, and you can write them down and teach the others.”
“Then I’ll be a little teacher?” Dawa’s eyes widened.
Song Zhaodi ruffled his hair. “Do you not want to be?”
Dawa nodded quickly. “I do! I do! Mom, teach me now!”
“Don’t rush.” Song Zhaodi laughed. “You can’t learn everything in one go. Let’s wash our faces first, then call Erwa and Sanwa down, and you can all learn together.” She set Dawa down and took his hand, leading him outside to get the washbasin.
Dawa tugged at her arm, stopping her from fetching hot water. He pointed to the wooden washstand. “Mom, your soap is gone too.”
“I noticed.” Song Zhaodi sighed. “Now that’s a real thief. Let’s not wash our faces yet—let’s check what else is missing.”
Dawa responded with an “Mm” and ran to check the chicken, duck, and goose coops. Finding all the birds intact, he sighed in relief and went around checking the corridor for missing items. “Nothing’s gone. Mom, how about you?”
“My face cream and your clam oil are both gone. Good thing our toothpaste and toothbrushes are still here,” Song Zhaodi said, carrying warm water outside. “If the toothpaste was missing too, your dad would be furious.”
Dawa frowned. “But without face cream and clam oil, what will we use tomorrow?”
“We’ll go to the city and buy more.” Song Zhaodi said. “We need to start preparing for the New Year anyway. Now come, let me wash your face.”
Dawa sighed. “She’s even worse than Grandma.”
“Shameless people are invincible.” Song Zhaodi wiped his face. “When you grow up, you’ll meet people even worse than your second aunt. By then, you can’t just cry—you need to find a way to deal with them.”
Dawa nodded seriously. “I’ll remember, Mom.” Then his eyes lit up as he spotted someone under the eaves of the neighbouring house. “Mom, we can call Uncle and have him tell Grandma!”
Following his gaze, Song Zhaodi saw Duan dasao sweeping the roof under the eaves and remembered her family had a telephone. “Do you know your uncle’s number?”
“I do! It’s upstairs—I’ll go get it.” Dawa said and ran inside.
What Song Lainan had done was so shameless that Song Zhaodi no longer felt the need to spare her any dignity. Once the call connected, she told Zhong dage exactly how much her second sister had stolen. Then she asked him to stop by Xiaosong Village and inform her eldest sister and brother-in-law.
Zhong Weiguo had heard from Zhong Jianguo that Song Zhaodi’s parents were reasonable people, and her eldest sister and brother-in-law were honest folks. So when he heard her second sister had stolen from her, his first reaction was to ask if there had been a misunderstanding.
Song Zhaodi was firm. “No one on this island would dare steal from a soldier’s house.”
She had previously installed a lock on the bamboo gate precisely to prevent sudden visits from relatives. Just saying it out loud made her feel embarrassed. That’s why, when Duan dasao had asked why she locked the door, Song Zhaodi had simply said it was to keep the chickens and ducks from escaping. And yet, it still hadn’t been enough.
When Zhong Jianguo got home and heard what happened, he said, “Call da ge again. Tell him not to go to Xiao Song Village.”
“Why?” Song Zhaodi was confused.
Zhong Jianguo said, “It’s just a small matter. If word gets out, your parents will be very upset. It’s just a book, not some valuable treasure.”
“And mother’s snow cream,” Zhong Dawa added, grabbing Song Zhaodi’s arm. “I won’t let you make that call.”
Song Zhaodi held Dawa’s hand, signalling him to stay calm. “Second Sister should have thought about the consequences when she did it.” She paused. “If she dares to take my things today, tomorrow she’ll dare to take dajie’s. dajie is honest, and jiefu is kind; they’ll endure it.
“If da ge exposes this, and Second Sister has any sense of shame, she won’t do it again. But if she thinks stealing from others is her skill, then as long as she does it again, my parents, for their own dignity, even if they don’t scold or punish her, will tell her never to come home again.”
Zhong Jianguo sighed. “Your parents are already in their fifties.”
“That can’t be helped,” Song Zhaodi replied. “When my mother came over this time and talked about Second Sister, I could tell she felt guilty towards her. I’m afraid she’ll go soft.”
Zhong Jianguo was puzzled. “About what?”
“About jiefu,” Song Zhaodi said. “She liked jiefu, but he married dajie instead.”
Zhong Jianguo commented, “Well, you can’t blame your jiefu for that. If it were me, I’d choose your dajie too.”
“What about me?” Song Zhaodi asked.
Zhong Jianguo chuckled. “We’re talking about your Second Sister.” He paused. “You? If I’d dared to choose you, your parents would have skinned me alive. You were just a little kid back then.”
“Father, Mother, what are you talking about?” Zhong Dawa glanced at them suspiciously. “So, no phone call, right?”
“No call,” Song Zhaodi confirmed.
The next morning, Zhong Dawa instinctively reached for his English book to teach his two younger brothers. However, realising it had been taken, tears welled up in the young boy’s eyes again.
Zhong Jianguo woke up to see the dark sky, guessing it would snow. He covered Song Zhaodi’s vegetable patch with straw and, upon returning, found his eldest son sitting silently on a chair, tears streaming down his face. He sat beside him. “Your uncle probably hasn’t left for Xiao Song Village yet. I can call him again and ask him to get it back for you?”
“It won’t come back,” Dawa sniffled. “Mother said she won’t admit it.”
Zhong Jianguo patted his son’s head. “Go get your mother’s English book. I’ll teach you a passage.”
Dawa immediately ran upstairs.
Watching his son’s back, Zhong Jianguo headed to the kitchen. “That kid wasn’t this eager before.”
“Dawa thinks Song Lainan is just like his grandmothers—always guarding against her stealing but still failing to prevent it, so he’s mad at himself for being careless,” Song Zhaodi said. “He’s turning his grief into motivation. Plus, he wants to teach the little ones English and play the role of a teacher, so he’s getting enthusiastic.”
Zhong Jianguo couldn’t understand. “Primary schools don’t even have English classes. What does your Second Sister need an English book for? She can’t even read it.”
“She can,” Song Zhaodi explained. “Our tuition was cheap, and since my parents didn’t have to save for a son’s marriage, they let all three of us study.
“dajie struggled with school and dropped out after a few years. Second Sister did better, but she didn’t study seriously. My mother thought she was wasting money, so she pulled her out before finishing her first year of middle school.
“The schools in Hongya Town wanted to produce college students, so they emphasised English, with five English lessons a week for first-year students. Second Sister would recognise that book instantly.”
“Most middle schools nationwide have reopened, but as far as I know, they haven’t resumed English classes,” Zhong Jianguo said. “If she brings an English book back, isn’t she afraid someone might report her to the Revolutionary Committee?”
Song Zhaodi shook her head and laughed. “You overestimate my Second Sister. She treasures her things. Other than her husband, she won’t tell anyone. Even if he finds out, Song Lainan will just claim I gave her the book but later regretted it and falsely accused her of stealing.”
Zhong Jianguo swallowed. “No way.”
“She would,” Song Zhaodi said. “I’ve seen many women like her in my past life.”
“Then how did your snow cream go missing?” Zhong Jianguo asked.
“I just didn’t expect her to take something I’ve already used,” Song Zhaodi sighed, then glanced at Dawa coming downstairs. “Go teach him English. Start from the basics.”
School was on winter break, so neither Song Zhaodi nor Dawa and Erwa needed to go. Since they weren’t in a rush, Zhong Jianguo let Song Zhaodi take her time cooking. He wasn’t worried about being late; if anything happened, the soldiers would report to Commissar Zhang.
Song Zhaodi first boiled porridge and steamed buns on the stove, then stir-fried two greens, cooked three fried eggs, and made five egg pancakes.
She didn’t use up all the eggs, but they were nearly out of oil.
Carrying the food outside, Song Zhaodi asked, “Is the army and school still distributing oil and rice this year, Zhong Jianguo?”
“It’ll be distributed on the 24th of the twelfth lunar month,” Zhong Jianguo replied. “The logistics department has already bought it. But it’s rapeseed oil. Hey, Song Zhaodi, do you think I should talk to the commander about stopping the supply purchases and just having the cooks go to the sea to catch food directly?”
“Where does the fish you eat now come from?” Song Zhaodi asked.
“The subsidiary food factory buys it from fishermen and sells it to us,” Zhong Jianguo said. “I think that’s too complicated.”
“I think it’s feasible,” Song Zhaodi said. “At least it eliminates the middleman’s profit. But I don’t know the specifics of your unit—if you catch something poisonous…”
“If someone wanted to poison us, sneaking it into the fishermen’s storage would be much easier than poisoning the ocean,” Zhong Jianguo pointed at the food. “These greens don’t taste as good as the cold sea vegetable salad you made the other day.”
Song Zhaodi rolled her eyes. “That was seaweed.”
“Fine, fine, I misspoke,” Zhong Jianguo conceded. “The seaweed egg soup and pork bone seaweed soup you made before were also great. You should go to the subsidiary food factory and buy more seafood. Let’s invite the commander over for dinner on the 24th.”
Since Commander Liu’s family wasn’t considered outsiders, Song Zhaodi had no objections. “You want to feed your commander first before proposing your food plan? I’m telling you, stopping the purchases entirely isn’t realistic—some soldiers love pork and hate fish.”
“Unfortunately, our unit can’t afford to eat pork every meal,” Zhong Jianguo said. “New recruits who don’t eat fish come here for a month and end up treating steamed fish like their own parents.”
Song Zhaodi clicked her tongue. “No wonder if I go three days without cooking meat, you start whining about killing chickens or ducks. Your camp really is like a monastery.”
“Mother, you said we’d slaughter the two drakes for the New Year,” Zhong Dawa suddenly said. “Are we doing it today?”
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