Zhong Dawa wrinkled his nose. “I’m not lazy! I just want to take Gengsheng out to play.”
“Then tell me, what’s so fun about the food factory?” Song Zhaodi glared at him. “Zhong Dawa, I may not be your biological mother, but I’ve raised you for more than two years. I don’t even need to guess your little schemes.”
Zhong Dawa’s heart skipped a beat, but he feigned calmness. “I said there’s nothing, so there’s nothing.”
“Gengsheng, go with him.” Song Zhaodi said.
Zhong Dawa pulled Gengsheng along. “Let’s go.”
Zili watched Dawa’s retreating figure, then turned to Song Zhaodi and tentatively asked, “Auntie, do you really know what Dawa is planning?”
“I do.” Song Zhaodi picked up a vegetable basket and a steamed bun container. “Let’s go pick some chives first.”
Zili went downstairs to the kitchen to grab a bamboo basket and followed Song Zhaodi. When he saw the chives, he suddenly realised something was off. “Auntie, can you mix chives with tofu? I’ve never seen anyone do that.”
“I don’t know if chives and tofu can be used together as stuffing.” Song Zhaodi replied. “But if we don’t eat our chives now, they’ll grow old in a few days. I plan to make chive pockets for you all.”
Zili blurted out, “Grandpa loved chive pockets the most.” As soon as he said it, he froze, his expression darkening.
Song Zhaodi wanted to respond, but when she turned and saw Zili’s reddened eyes, she couldn’t help but sigh. “Zili, people must look forward. I’ve never met your grandfather, so I don’t know him well, but I believe he would want you and Gengsheng to be happy and carefree every day.”
“But my grandpa…” Zili murmured, “He must be suffering now.”
Song Zhaodi put down her sickle. “Zili, life is never smooth sailing. Some people suffer when they are young, and some suffer when they are old.” She paused. “Compared to Dawa’s mother, at least your grandfather is still alive. As long as he’s alive, there’s hope.”
Zili nodded, indicating he understood, but he couldn’t help but ask, “Auntie, how do you know Grandpa is still alive?”
“Your grandfather was one of the founding marshals. If something happened to him, even if the higher-ups didn’t make it public, your uncle would hear about it.” Song Zhaodi explained. “Since your uncle hasn’t contacted your Uncle Zhong, it means your grandfather is not in any immediate danger.”
Zili let out a soft ‘mhm.’ “I won’t cry anymore.”
“Crying is fine.” Song Zhaodi said. “If you feel like crying, then cry. I’m not an outsider; I’m your adoptive mother. Crying in front of family is nothing to be ashamed of.”
Zili couldn’t help but smile. “Auntie, you’re so nice. Why did you marry Uncle Zhong?”
“Because Mom liked us.” Zhong Erwa plucked a scallion. “Mom, I want to eat scrambled eggs with scallions too.”
Zili sighed. “Erwa, have you become a little glutton too?”
“You’re the glutton!” Zhong Erwa huffed unhappily.
Zili nodded. “Yes, I’m a glutton. So don’t interrupt me. Auntie, why?”
“In our countryside, women must marry and have children.” Song Zhaodi explained. “I didn’t want to have kids, but I had no choice but to get married, so I chose your Uncle Zhong. The most important reason was that he had a high salary and good benefits.”
Zili was very curious. He lowered his voice, afraid Erwa would overhear. “Weren’t you afraid that other people’s children wouldn’t be easy to raise?”
“Even biological children aren’t necessarily filial.” Song Zhaodi replied. “Besides, because of your Uncle Zhong, the army arranged for me to teach at a middle school. I have a pension, so I don’t fear being left alone in old age. Whether you all are filial or not doesn’t matter much to me.”
Zili found Song Zhaodi strange. She actually enjoyed being a stepmother. But listening to her, he thought she made a lot of sense, yet at the same time, her way of thinking felt odd. “Auntie, I think you’re very different from the women I’ve met before.”
“Of course I am.” Song Zhaodi said. “Everyone grows up in different environments, so their views on marriage, children and life choices differ.” She paused. “When you grow up, even if you don’t get married by forty, I won’t rush you.”
Zili was stunned. “Forty? That’s too much, Auntie! I won’t wait that long to get married.”
“Kid, never say never.” Song Zhaodi patted his shoulder. “Zhong Erwa, did you understand what your mother just said?”
Erwa pursed his lips and smiled. “Not really. Mom, say it again.”
“When you grow up, you can do whatever you want, and I won’t stop you.” Song Zhaodi said. “As long as you don’t commit murder or arson. Whether you want to go to the skies or dive into the sea, your mother will support you in trying it.”
Erwa didn’t quite understand, so he asked directly, “Mom, can you sew me a new school bag if I give my current one to Brother Zili?”
“No.” Song Zhaodi said without hesitation.
Zili quickly interjected, “Auntie, it’s fine. Dawa and I can share one bag. Dawa already said so.”
“Mom, did you hear that?” Zhong Erwa said. “Mom, when you make me a new bag, can you sew a panda on it too? I really like pandas now.”
Song Zhaodi laughed. “And what if you like something else in a few days?”
“I don’t know.” Erwa thought for a moment. “When I stop liking pandas, I’ll let you know.”
Sanwa spat out a piece of garlic sprout and frowned. “Mom, I want a new school bag too.”
“You don’t even have books. Why do you need a bag?” Song Zhaodi frowned. “Once you get your schoolbooks, I’ll make one for you.”
Sanwa ran over. “I still want one! Mom, Zili ge has a new bag, so I should have one too.”
“Why not give him Gengsheng’s bag?” Zili suggested.
Song Zhaodi looked at Sanwa. “If you don’t behave, I won’t cook dinner tonight. If I don’t cook, Dawa will be very angry, and he’ll hit you. I won’t stop him.”
“Then I don’t want it anymore.” Sanwa knew Dawa was rough. Sometimes a single slap from Dawa made him grimace in pain. But since he wanted to play with his brothers, he never dared to complain to their parents. “Mom, when will the teacher give out new books?”
“When you start first grade, the teacher will hand them out.” Song Zhaodi said. “Learn pinyin and basic math with your brothers. Once you master simple addition and subtraction, I’ll buy you some notebooks and make you a nice new school bag for them.”
Sanwa beamed. “Mom, I want notebooks now!”
“Learn to add and subtract up to twenty first, and I’ll buy them for you.” Song Zhaodi said. “And no more sneaking garlic sprouts! Go back inside with Erwa. I’ll be there soon.”
Zhong Erwa held out his hand. “Sanwa, I’ll take you.”
“Okay.” Sanwa had no desire to eat garlic sprouts. They were too spicy. Once inside, he immediately pestered Erwa for a notebook.
Erwa was still thinking about his new bag, but he didn’t dare anger Song Zhaodi. Not only did he refuse to give his brother a notebook, but he even threatened to tell Song Zhaodi about it.
Zhong Sanwa wilted.
Around 2:30, Zhong Dawa and Gengsheng returned, each carrying a bag of things. Shoulder to shoulder, they walked inside.
Song Zhaodi was by the water pump washing chives. Seeing them enter, she smiled. “Zhong Dawa, I bet you spent every last cent of that fifty cents.”
“Mom, I bought so many things,” Dawa said. “Six jin of aged tofu, more than ten sheets of tofu skin and the yam you’ve been thinking about for so long. Mom, it was fifty cents for two big bundles. You should praise me.”
Song Zhaodi cooperated, “Dawa is amazing.” Then she asked, “Gengsheng, did Dawa tell you that the supply factory has a lot of delicious food and then ask you to call me over to buy some to cook for you?”
Gengsheng’s eyes widened. “Auntie, how did you know?”
“Because Zhong Dawa is a little foodie.” Song Zhaodi looked at Dawa. “Put the things in the house. We’ll cook the yam tomorrow morning.”
Zhong Dawa carefully observed Song Zhaodi’s expression. Seeing that she wasn’t angry, he handed the things to Gengsheng and ran to her side. “Mom, I told the uncle selling yams that I really, really love eating them. When he saw that no one was around, he gave me an extra jin. The tofu and tofu skin too. He added half a jin extra. Mom, am I impressive?”
Song Zhaodi was quite surprised. “Very impressive.” After thinking for a moment, she said, “From now on, I’ll give you fifty cents every day. You can buy whatever you want.”
“Fifty cents?” Zhong Dawa was about to agree but then realised something was off. “No meat coupons?”
Song Zhaodi smiled. “We’ll save the meat coupons for the end of the month to buy pork belly and make braised pork for you all.”
“Then I don’t want meat coupons,” Zhong Dawa said. Then he suddenly remembered something. “Zili and Gengsheng haven’t eaten braised pork before. Mom, in a few days, it’ll be the Lantern Festival1. Let’s make braised pork then.”
Song Zhaodi nodded. “Alright.” She took the chives out, placed them in the open air to dry, and then called the children upstairs to watch them do the practice problems Zhong Jianguo had written for them.
Around four o’clock, Song Zhaodi went downstairs, fished out a head of pickled cabbage, washed and chopped it, and mixed it with tofu as filling. Then, she chopped the chives for another type of filling.
Zhong Dawa was curious. “Mom, are you making three flavors of dumplings?”
“No,” Song Zhaodi said. “I’ll knead the dough in a bit. You’ll roll the dumpling skins, Zili and Erwa will wrap the dumplings and Gengsheng will tend the fire. I’ll make chive pockets for you. How about that?”
“Chive pockets?” Dawa was overjoyed. “Sounds great! Mom, you guys make the chive pockets. Leave the tofu dumplings to me.”
Song Zhaodi nodded. “Then I’ll go knead the dough now.”
In her past life, Song Zhaodi had eaten sauerkraut and frozen tofu dumplings and pan-fried tofu buns, but she had never had tofu and sauerkraut dumplings. She wasn’t sure if they would taste good, so she decided to make some chive pockets as a backup.
Though the new year had passed, spring had already begun before the holiday. With each passing day, the weather grew warmer and the chives in the Zhong family’s courtyard grew fast and aged quickly. Song Zhaodi decided to harvest half of them today to make chive pockets.
Estimating that she would need to make around twenty chive pockets, she worried about using up all the vegetable oil in one go. So, she used the lard she had rendered before the new year to fry them instead. However, she was afraid of scooping out too much lard with a spatula, so she used chopsticks to take out small amounts instead.
Zhong Dawa, drawn in by the aroma, came over to take a look. Seeing Song Zhaodi using chopsticks to extract the lard, he was very curious. “Mom, when did you learn to scoop oil with chopsticks?”
“I just learned it,” Song Zhaodi replied, glancing back. “Do you have a problem with that?”
Zhong Dawa shook his head. “No, no. But I want to know—how do we eat the tofu skins?”
“Have you ever eaten dipping vegetables?” Song Zhaodi asked.
Zhong Dawa thought for a moment. “No, I haven’t.” Then he paused and said, “Mom, today we have dumplings, chive pockets, and dipping vegetables. What’s special about today?”
“Your uncle and aunt were kicked out by your dad. Would you consider that a joyous occasion?” Song Zhaodi asked. “Isn’t it worth celebrating?”
Footnotes:
- Lantern Festival (元宵节): Last day of the Chinese New Year celebrations. Falls on the fifteenth day of the first month of the Chinese lunisolar calendar. ↩︎
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