The children couldn’t hold back their laughter.
Even Gengsheng, who rarely spoke, couldn’t help but say, “Mom, you’re not a mountain bandit.”
Song Zhaodi nodded in agreement. “I’m the marshal of this family.”
“Then what is Dad?” Zhong Dawa asked with a grin.
Zhong Jianguo responded, “I’d like to know that too.”
“You’re the political commissar,” Song Zhaodi decided. “How about that?”
Zhong Jianguo wasn’t satisfied, but arguing with Song Zhaodi seemed pointless. Still, he didn’t want to see her get too smug, so he reluctantly agreed. “I guess that works.”
“Dad sounded really reluctant just now.” Dawa smirked. “Mom, I think Dad is quite unhappy with you.”
Zhong Jianguo chuckled twice. “I’m even more unhappy with you all.” As he finished speaking, he swiftly pulled off his belt.
All five kids bolted instantly.
Zhong Jianguo watched their retreating figures and withdrew his gaze. “I thought they weren’t scared.”
“Would you really hit them?” Song Zhaodi asked.
Zhong Jianguo replied, “A couple of smacks on their butts would only hurt for two days. It’s not a matter of being willing or not. I just don’t feel like hitting them.” Then he turned to her and asked, “Are we having stir-fried spinach with crispy flatbread?”
“You’ll stoke the fire?” Song Zhaodi asked back.
Zhong Jianguo nodded and walked toward the house. “Once they grow a bit bigger, we won’t be able to cook on the stove for them anymore.”
“Yeah,” Song Zhaodi agreed. “Even if we steam a whole pot of buns with a steel pot, it wouldn’t be enough for the five of them in one meal.”
“Then they’ll have to start gathering firewood in the mountains,” Zhong Jianguo said. “We’ll use the earth stove for steaming buns and stir-frying and the small stove for porridge and rice.”
“They’ve already started,” Song Zhaodi pointed at the firewood in the kitchen. “They realise how much they eat and cooking on the small stove is inconvenient. After school, they swing by the mountain to pick up fallen branches.
“I was thinking, once they’re a bit older, you could get a long bamboo pole, tie a sickle to the end and have them trim the stray branches from the trees. Those wild branches don’t help the tree grow anyway.”
Zhong Jianguo nodded. “Take them a few times first and make sure they don’t wander too deep. If they get bitten by a snake or insect, they’ll be miserable for days.”
“I know,” Song Zhaodi said with a smile. “I worked so hard to raise them. I care about their well-being more than you do.”
Zhong Jianguo left early and came back late, so Song Zhaodi said this on purpose to reassure him, though she wasn’t really worried. Zili and Gengsheng were responsible and if Dawa acted up, his brothers would tie him down if needed.
Song Zhaodi made two plates of stir-fried spinach with crispy flatbread. As soon as the dish was ready, she handed Zhong Jianguo a pair of chopsticks. “Try it.”
Worried it might not taste good, Zhong Jianguo picked up only a tiny bit, chewed and then put his chopsticks down. Instead of calling the kids to eat, he just sat there.
Song Zhaodi was puzzled. “The food is ready. Why aren’t you calling them?”
“I think you should make another plate,” Zhong Jianguo said. “They’ll treat this like stir-fried noodles.”
Song Zhaodi tasted a bit, then sighed. “I should’ve thought of this sooner.” She dumped the rest of the spinach into the pan, added more crispy flatbread and then suddenly remembered, “I don’t think the kids have ever had stir-fried noodles, have they?”
Zhong Jianguo nodded. “You want to make some? Don’t bother. I think you should knead some dough instead.”
“Dawa and Zili can do that,” Song Zhaodi said. “Their kneading isn’t great, so the noodles will be uneven, but I’ll roll them out. We still have green beans, so we’ll make braised noodles tomorrow.”
Zhong Jianguo’s face changed slightly. “I won’t be home tomorrow. Do it another day.”
“You’re heading out?” Song Zhaodi asked.
“A routine patrol,” Zhong Jianguo replied.
“Great. Since you won’t be home, we’ll make less,” Song Zhaodi said without thinking.
Zhong Jianguo instantly felt a pang of frustration. “Song Zhaodi, I’m your husband!”
“But your appetite equals mine and Sanwa’s combined,” Song Zhaodi said matter-of-factly. “If you’re not home, I can cook for two fewer people.”
Zhong Jianguo gritted his teeth. “Believe it or not, I’ll report you to the military court for mistreating a frontline soldier?!”
Song Zhaodi clasped her hands together dramatically. “Oh no, I’m so scared. Please don’t do this to me.”
“Pfft!”
Song Zhaodi turned her head sharply. The kids were lined up at the kitchen door. She cleared her throat and asked sternly, “Is that funny?”
“No, not funny at all.” Dawa placed his plate down and ducked behind Zili and Gengsheng. “Just kind of hilarious.” Before either parent could speak, he quickly said, “I’ll go set the table and bring the stools.”
Song Zhaodi huffed. “We should get a bigger rectangular table. This little square one is getting too crowded.”
“Rectangular tables aren’t as nice-looking,” Zhong Jianguo imagined it. “Don’t just make things up.”
“Then we’ll make the table 80 cm high and get seven, wait, seven doesn’t sound good. Let’s do eight chairs.”
“Make it ten,” Zhong Jianguo said. “Ten is a lucky number. Plus, if we have guests, they’ll have somewhere to sit.”
Song Zhaodi hesitated. “I heard from Duan dasao that the island’s carpenters aren’t very skilled. Can they get it right?”
“They used to be bad, but over the years, people kept hiring them for small jobs, so they’ve improved,” Zhong Jianguo explained. “Let’s also get a bunk bed for Sanwa. He’s getting older and can’t keep squeezing in with his brothers.”
On January 30, 1972, the fifteenth day of the twelfth lunar month, Zhong Jianguo returned from outside, not heading home first but going to the military unit to borrow a truck. He drove to the carpenter’s home to pick up the new furniture.
The Zhong family already had several beds, so when he brought back another one, Chen dasao saw them unloading it and asked, “Are you expecting another baby?”
Both Zhong Jianguo and Song Zhaodi froze and asked in unison, “What baby?”
“You’re not pregnant?” Chen dasao glanced at Song Zhaodi’s stomach. “Then why are you making so many beds? Are you adopting another child?”
Song Zhaodi almost cursed. What kind of nonsense was that?!
Zhong Jianguo quickly held Song Zhaodi’s hand and smiled, “The kids are grown now. Each one gets their own bed.”
“Five beds?” Chen dasao was surprised. “I remember your house is the same as ours. There are only three rooms upstairs that can be used. Where are you going to put so many beds? I really don’t know how you manage with so many kids.”
Zhong Jianguo laughed. “No need to worry about that, saozi. If you’re curious, come over to our place and see for yourself one day.”
“Alright!” Chen dasao blurted out without hesitation.
Zhong Jianguo patted Song Zhaodi on the shoulder. “It’s about to rain. Hurry up and move the beds inside.”
“Do you think she’s sick?” Song Zhaodi rarely swore, even though they had five rough-and-tumble kids. “I don’t even know what’s going on.”
Zhong Jianguo replied, “She’s just full with nothing better to do.”
“I think so too,” Song Zhaodi agreed. After a pause, she added, “Our relatives have settled down, so I thought the annoying people were gone too. But I guess I was too naive.”
Zhong Jianguo shook his head and chuckled. “Don’t let it get to you. Whatever she says, just treat it like a fart.”
“If I ignore her, she’ll think I’m afraid of her. And besides, why should I put up with her?” Song Zhaodi glared at Zhong Jianguo. “Whose side are you on?”
Zhong Jianguo grinned. “I sleep in the same bed as you.”
“Get lost!” Song Zhaodi scolded him with a laugh, then sighed. “Soon, Lin Zhong will leave for the army. That’ll leave only her and Commander Lin at home. With nothing else to do, she’ll start staring at our house all day again.” After a pause, she added, “Even more annoying than Goudan’s mom from our village.”
Zhong Jianguo laughed. “At least Goudan’s mom isn’t as good at getting under people’s skin. That woman is blunt and doesn’t sugarcoat things, but at least she says what she means.”
“If only we could build a higher courtyard wall,” Song Zhaodi mused. “Too bad these houses were built by your military unit. We can live in them, but we’re not allowed to make any changes.”
Zhong Jianguo thought for a moment. “Not necessarily impossible. I could hammer in a few nails along the wall, stretch some wires across the fence and plant climbing vines. In a year or two, we’d have a natural barrier.”
“That’s a great idea.” Song Zhaodi’s eyes lit up. “Can you get climbing vines?”
Zhong Jianguo nodded. “I’ll ask around. With so many people in our unit, someone must know.”
“It’s a pity Lin Zhong is all grown up now,” Song Zhaodi sighed. “Even if Dawa waved a fried chicken drumstick in front of him, he wouldn’t make a fuss to his mother about it anymore.”
Zhong Jianguo chuckled. “Lin Zhong has grown up, but so have his nephews and nieces.”
Song Zhaodi took a second to process this. When she finally understood, she stared at him in disbelief. “Commander Zhong, when did you become so devious?”
“You taught me well, dear wife,” Zhong Jianguo replied without thinking.
Song Zhaodi kicked at him.
Zhong Jianguo quickly dodged. “Alright, enough playing around. Let’s get these beds upstairs. The kids are waiting.”
On Friday, after their exams, the school went on break. Today was Sunday. The weather wasn’t great, so Song Zhaodi, worried about rain or snow, didn’t let the kids go out to play. They were all at home.
The entrance to the Zhong family’s courtyard was small, so the truck couldn’t drive in. Zhong Jianguo parked outside and called for Song Zhaodi to help. The kids, who had been peering from upstairs, saw the truck full of things and rushed down after their mother.
Song Zhaodi sent them back up to tidy their rooms. But once the rooms were cleaned, their parents still hadn’t come upstairs. Sanwa leaned over the staircase railing and yelled, “Mom! Dad! Hurry up!”
“We’re coming,” Song Zhaodi called back.
Once upstairs, they helped Zhong Jianguo set up the beds. Then, they brought up the small dining table so the kids could use it for homework. Only after that did Song Zhaodi tell the five children about what Chen dasao had said earlier.
As soon as she finished, Gengsheng asked, “Mom, how are you going to deal with her?”
“On the morning of the second day of the New Year, after you clean up your rooms, I’ll invite her over to take a look,” Song Zhaodi said.
Gengsheng frowned. “That’s it?”
“That’s enough,” Song Zhaodi smirked coldly. “If I don’t stir up trouble in their house, I won’t be–”
Zhong Jianguo quickly interrupted, “Won’t be Song Zhaodi?”
Song Zhaodi’s expression shifted. Damn, she almost said her real name. She quickly corrected herself: “Won’t be your mother.” She glanced at the five children.
Dawa clenched his fists excitedly. “Mom, how can we help?”
“Look at you, all fired up.” Song Zhaodi ruffled his hair. “You’ll find out when the time comes.”
Lin Zhong’s eldest sister had married and moved to Hangcheng. His second and third sisters married and settled on a nearby island. Because travel was inconvenient and Chen dasao favoured boys over girls, the three sisters rarely returned to their childhood home. Or rather, they didn’t want to return.
But on the second day of the Lunar New Year, the three Lin sisters always came back.
On that day, the weather was perfect, clear skies and bright sunshine.
After breakfast, Song Zhaodi told the kids to carry the new rectangular dining table to the veranda.
The children leaned over the table, doing their homework. Song Zhaodi sat on a chair, basking in the sun while keeping an eye on the Chen family next door.
Around ten o’clock, Zhong Dawa put down his calligraphy brush, snuck a glance at Song Zhaodi and dashed inside.
“Where do you think you’re going, Zhong Dawa?” Song Zhaodi asked lazily.
Dawa froze mid-step. “You were pretending to sleep, weren’t you, Mom?”
Zili peeked over. “Mom didn’t even open her eyes.”
Dawa turned back reluctantly.
Song Zhaodi slowly opened her eyes, proving she hadn’t been pretending.
“How did you know it was me, Mom? You didn’t even look,” Dawa asked curiously.
Song Zhaodi: “Your brothers always tell me what they’re up to. Now, tell me, why were you going inside?”
“I was thirsty. I wanted to make some malted milk,” Dawa hesitated before adding, “And I wanted a milk candy. Can I, Mom?”
Song Zhaodi nodded. “You can. But you can’t eat it alone.”
“I wasn’t planning to,” Dawa said.
Song Zhaodi waved her hand. “Go on.”
“I should go too?” Sanwa asked Dawa, his eyes looking at Song Zhaodi.
Song Zhaodi nodded. “Zili and Gengsheng should go too.”
Zili and Gengsheng followed along. Erwa didn’t move.
Song Zhaodi was curious. “You don’t want to eat?”
“Zili ge will bring some back for me.” Erwa put down his brush and picked up a piece of paper from the table. “Mom, does this look like what I painted?”
Song Zhaodi looked over. “Orchids?”
“What orchids?” Erwa flipped the paper over to check, he hadn’t drawn it wrong. “It’s chives. Mom, can’t you tell?”
Song Zhaodi couldn’t help but pat her forehead. “I forgot you’ve never seen orchids before. Of course, you wouldn’t know how to draw them.” After a pause, she asked, “Why did you suddenly think of drawing chives?”
“I’m practicing painting so I can paint on clothes later.” Erwa replied. “Mom, when will you teach me how to make clothes?”
Song Zhaodi raised an eyebrow. “You’re only seven.”
“I’ll be eight in a few months!” Erwa walked over and tugged at her hand. “You said that whatever I wanted to learn, you’d teach me. You taught my brother how to cook, so you have to teach me how to make clothes.”
Song Zhaodi thought for a moment. “When the weather gets hot and I make summer clothes for you all, I’ll teach you then.”
“You made new ones just last year,” Zhong Erwa said, confused. “They’re still new.”
Song Zhaodi pinched his little face. “You’ve all grown taller. Last year’s clothes won’t fit this year, so I have to take them apart and sew them again–huh? When did Lin Zhong’s eldest sister get here? How did I not notice?” She pulled off the woolen blanket covering her lap and walked outside.
“Mom, where are you going?” Erwa followed after her. “Wait for me!”
Song Zhaodi walked to the fence and asked with a smile, “Saozi, do you have guests?”
“Yes.” Chen dasao turned her head at the sound, thinking Song Zhaodi wasn’t aware. She pointed at the woman beside her. “This is Lin Zhong’s eldest sister. The year you arrived on the island, she got married. She’s been busy with work these past few years and hasn’t come back often, so you haven’t met her.”
Song Zhaodi had met Lin Zhong’s three older sisters before, but she didn’t bother explaining and pretended not to know. “Just arrived?”
“She’s been here for a while.” The woman, in her twenties but with a figure like someone in her thirties, smiled. “We thought it was almost noon and our second and third sisters hadn’t arrived yet, so we came out to check.”
Song Zhaodi smiled. “They should be here soon.” She glanced toward the dock and saw a group of people coming this way. The distance made it impossible to see who they were, but she said, “That might be them.”
Chen dasao and her eldest daughter quickly stepped out, squinting into the distance. After a moment, she said, “It really is them. Xiao Song, you have good eyesight.”
“Young eyes.” Song Zhaodi stepped out the door and stood beside her. “When I reach your age, I won’t be able to see that well.”
Chen dasao’s breath hitched. She opened her mouth, wanting to say, “Xiao Song, do you even think before you speak? It’s the New Year, what do you mean ‘won’t be able to’?” But when the words reached her lips, she reconsidered. Song Zhaodi wasn’t wrong, after all. So she forced an awkward laugh. “True, I’m getting old and useless.”
“That’s right. But at least your daughters are all grown up,” Song Zhaodi said. “When you’re too old to move, they’ll take care of you. Unlike me, I’ve just got a house full of rowdy boys.”
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