When Song Zhaodi arrived at the grocery store, it was not yet ten o’clock, but the place already felt like it was about to close. This was because, in this era, people were cautious even when they had ration tickets, and they dared not spend recklessly. As a result, the grocery store was rather quiet.
Back on the island, Zhong Jianguo was always the one who went out to buy things, so Song Zhaodi had only been to the grocery store a handful of times.
Even so, when she appeared at the store entrance with Sanwa in her arms, the workers immediately recognised her—after all, she was the most educated teacher on the island.
The man in charge of the pork stall was around fifty years old, dressed in a grey work uniform. His appearance was quite ordinary—small eyes, protruding teeth, and, strictly speaking, a little ugly. When he saw Song Zhaodi approaching, his already small eyes narrowed into slits as he smiled. Before she even got close, he greeted her, “Teacher Song, what are you looking to buy?”
“I wanted to buy some pork, but since it’s only halfway through the month, I don’t dare to spend my ration tickets so soon.” Song Zhaodi wasn’t naive—she wasn’t about to walk straight to her intended purchase.
As she casually glanced around, she spotted the pork vendor and recalled something Zhong Jianguo had mentioned. He had said that every time he bought pork, the man’s hand would tremble slightly when cutting, causing him to always give a little extra—about half a tael to a whole tael more. Song Zhaodi figured the man must like Zhong Jianguo quite a bit, so she walked toward him.
Reaching the stall, Song Zhaodi discreetly scanned her surroundings but didn’t see the young woman around her age. She found it strange—had the woman already left? She asked, “What time do you all close up?”
“The dry goods sellers close at night. We, the fresh goods vendors, close when we sell out,” the man said, pointing to the chopping board. “Still got about ten jin left, so it won’t be long now.”
Sanwa had learned to walk, albeit unsteadily, and now that he had, he no longer liked being carried. When Song Zhaodi stopped walking, he squirmed to get down.
Bending down, she set him on the ground, and he scurried off like a bird freed from its cage. Song Zhaodi then noticed a basin under the chopping board filled with neatly cleaned pork bones. “Uncle, are the pork bones priced the same as the meat?”
The man chuckled. “Of course not. Pork bones don’t require ration tickets; you can buy as many as you want. But they’re priced the same as fatty meat.” Seeing Song Zhaodi eyeing the bones, he widened his slit-like eyes as much as he could. “Teacher Song, do you want some?”
“I heard that pork bone soup helps children grow taller, so I’ve always wanted to buy some. But I was worried they’d require ration tickets like pork, so I never dared to ask.” That was genuinely what Song Zhaodi thought.
The man waved his hand and lifted the basin onto the counter. “These don’t have much fat. If they required ration tickets, my stall would’ve been buried under a mountain of bones long ago. How many do you want, Teacher Song? I’ll weigh them for you.”
“Give me a moment.” Song Zhaodi hurried over and scooped up Sanwa, who had wandered quite far. “I’ll take two pieces. Uncle, I don’t have a cleaver at home—could you chop them for me?”
The man weighed the bones, accepted the fifty-cent note she handed over, and raised his cleaver. As he did, he asked, “Teacher Song, what’s the point of kids learning foreign languages? It’s not like we’re going abroad.”
“It’s useful even if we don’t go abroad.” Song Zhaodi noticed the fish vendor nearby listening in, so she raised her voice slightly. “For example, if your son joins the military in the future and captures one of Old Jiang’s warships, but everything on board is in a foreign language, he wouldn’t be able to operate it.”
Most people on the island knew that Old Jiang was backed by the Americans. The pork vendor had also heard that Jiang’s weapons came from the U.S., so he nodded repeatedly. “Teacher Song, you’re right—that makes sense.”
After chopping the bones, he noticed she wasn’t carrying a basket. “Teacher Song, you can borrow my basket. Just bring it back next time you buy pork.”
Song Zhaodi smiled. “Thanks. I’ll have Old Zhong return it tomorrow. I’m going to take a look over there.”
“Teacher Song, won’t you buy a fish?” The fish vendor, who had been eavesdropping, suddenly spoke up.
Raising an eyebrow in surprise, Song Zhaodi turned to him. Why did it feel like everyone here knew her? “Do you have perch?”
“…No,” the man said awkwardly. “I have ribbonfish. Do you want some?”
Song Zhaodi shook her head. “Ribbonfish have too many bones—not good for the kids.”
“You’re really good to those kids,” the man blurted out.
Zhong Jianguo held a high position and was well-educated. Whenever he came to buy groceries, he spoke to the workers without any air of superiority. He never scrutinised the scale when they weighed his purchases—he simply paid and left swiftly.
Grocery store workers dealt with all kinds of housewives daily, most of whom nitpicked over every detail. Given their tight budgets, they couldn’t help but argue to get a little extra for their families. As a result, the workers were not only physically exhausted but also mentally drained.
Compared to those women, Zhong Jianguo was like a breath of fresh air in the marketplace. The workers liked him so much that they wished every customer were like him.
Because of this fondness, they often talked about Zhong Jianguo during idle chatter, which inevitably led to discussing his new wife. Some worried she wouldn’t be good to his children.
The fish vendor was one of those people. He had been listening, not to hear what Song Zhaodi and the pork vendor were saying, but to observe whether she was genuinely good to the kids or just pretending.
His words came out before he could stop himself, and his tone held a trace of disbelief. Embarrassed, he quickly added, “I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just that you’re so young—I didn’t expect you to be so good at taking care of children.”
“I’m not very good at it,” Song Zhaodi laughed. “But my nephew is about the same age as Old Zhong’s kids. I used to look after him a lot and learned a thing or two from my older sister. I see you have a pomfret—can you sell it to me?”
“Yes, yes!” The fish vendor hastily said. “I’ll tie it up with a string for you. Teacher Song, do you need anything else?”
Handing over the money, Song Zhaodi glanced around. “No, that’s all. I’m going to check the dry goods counter.”
“Go ahead—there’s a fresh batch of goods this morning,” the man said. “I saw dried string beans, dried kelp, and even dried shrimp.”
Planning to check out the dry goods, Song Zhaodi paused when she heard this. Lowering her voice, she asked, “Why did they change the counter staff? Wasn’t there a woman around my age working there?”
“She didn’t come today,” the man replied. “I heard she’s sick. But honestly, she looked perfectly fine yesterday, and now, overnight, she’s too sick to work? Who’s she trying to fool? She probably just wanted a day off.”
Song Zhaodi raised an eyebrow. The marketplace truly was the best place for gossip. “Aren’t they afraid of fining her?”
“No way!” The man spoke loudly, unconcerned. “That girl has connections with Commander Qian. The store supervisor wants to send his son to the army and is afraid she’ll badmouth him in front of Qian, so he wouldn’t dare fine her.”
Song Zhaodi was surprised. “But Commander Qian doesn’t handle recruitment—why be afraid of him?”
“You never know what might happen in the future,” the pork vendor interjected. “It’s better to avoid trouble.”
Song Zhaodi nodded. “That makes sense. But how did she get to know Commander Qian in the first place?”
“Commander Qian often comes to buy groceries,” said the middle-aged woman selling live chickens as she approached.
Song Zhaodi chuckled—gossiping was a universal trait across all eras. “Commander Qian comes grocery shopping too?” she asked, feigning surprise. “My Old Zhong actually told me that he’s the only man who comes to buy groceries in the morning, like a crane among chickens. So he was lying to me?”
“Commander Zhong didn’t lie to you,” the fish vendor quickly chimed in. “He really is the only man here shopping for groceries. Commander Qian, well, he buys groceries as an excuse—he actually comes here to chat with her.”
Seeing the other two nod in agreement, Song Zhaodi grew curious. “So all of you know about this? Commander Qian really comes often? Does he admire that girl?”
“Xiao Zhao is good at talking and knows how to handle things. Commander Qian likes chatting with her,” the middle-aged woman selling chickens explained.
“Oh, I see,” Song Zhaodi mused. “From your accents, you’re all from the island. Is Xiao Zhao from here too?”
“No,” a woman near the pork stall suddenly interjected.
Song Zhaodi was startled and probed further, “She’s not? A young girl coming here alone—her parents must be very trusting. When I moved here with Old Zhong, even though he’s my cousin, my parents still weren’t at ease. Our families at least know each other well.”
“You’re Commander Zhong’s cousin?!” the chicken vendor exclaimed. The surrounding people all turned to look.
Sanwa was a bit frightened, so Song Zhaodi quickly hugged him tighter and patted his back.
Since Bai Hua was once close to Duan dasao, and Commander Zhong was recruited by Commander Liu, the Liu family knew that Zhong Jianguo wasn’t on good terms with his own family. This didn’t surprise Song Zhaodi.
Most military families weren’t gossipmongers, so it was understandable that ordinary people didn’t know much about Zhong Jianguo’s background.
“Yes,” Song Zhaodi confirmed. “I’m eight years younger than him. When Dawa was born, I was still in high school.” Then she changed the subject, “Enough about me. What’s the story with this Xiao Zhao?”
Since Song Zhaodi didn’t frequent the grocery store and Xiao Zhao wasn’t some untouchable figure, the others saw no harm in discussing her. The chicken vendor said, “Xiao Zhao is from Hangcheng. She has relatives on the island. When the military was setting up this grocery store, Xiao Zhao happened to be staying with her relatives.
“She had some schooling, isn’t timid, and knows how to talk. The director thought she was decent and hired her. She helps with bookkeeping, goes with the director to pick up supplies, and is quite capable—just a bit lazy sometimes.”
“So she’s not married?” Song Zhaodi feigned surprise.
The chicken vendor waved her hand, looking reluctant to say more.
Seeing the others also unwilling to speak, Song Zhaodi deliberately acted even more puzzled. “Why not?”
“There’s nothing to hide,” the woman who had previously said Xiao Zhao wasn’t from the island spoke again. “Xiao Zhao has high standards. Once, I was at the hospital getting medicine, and I overheard her asking the nurses about the officers in our military unit—she wants to marry a military officer. She sticks so close to Commander Qian because she hopes he’ll introduce her to one.”
Song Zhaodi suddenly understood. “That explains it. Wait, but if she really wants to marry an officer, why not go for Dawa’s father? No matter where you look, Old Zhong’s conditions are top-notch.”
“Your Old Zhong has three kids,” the woman stated. “I always wondered why a university graduate like you was willing to marry Commander Zhong. So you two are cousins, huh?”
Song Zhaodi didn’t see how the two things were related. “Being cousins explains everything?”
“Of course!” the woman said. “One day, when Dawa grows up, even if he doesn’t want to call you ‘Mom,’ he still has to call you ‘Auntie.’ No matter how you look at it, your relationship with them can never be severed. Those kids have to be filial to you.
“Becoming a stepmother is always risky—you worry the kids won’t truly accept you. But for you, that’s not a problem. If I were in your position, I’d be willing too, as long as Old Zhong treated me well.”
Cousins? That excuse might fool those who didn’t know better.
Song Zhaodi didn’t want half-truths and lies to later be exposed, making people think she was a habitual liar. So she simply said, “Don’t overthink it. I need to pick up Dawa and Erwa from school later, so I’ll just buy some dried mushrooms now and chat another time.” She waved at them and went to buy her things.
Dried goods and seafood didn’t require ration tickets or food stamps, but they were relatively expensive, so not many people bought them. Song Zhaodi noticed that even the best kelp hadn’t been picked over—thick and large pieces were still available. She really wanted to buy more to make kelp soup, but since everyone was frugal, she didn’t want to stand out. So, she bought only a small amount and headed home.
She hadn’t seen Commander Qian’s mistress, and she didn’t want to waste more words discussing it with Teacher Yao. That evening, when Zhong Jianguo came home, Song Zhaodi told him, “I want to take Teacher Yao out to see the world.”
“You mean to show her the outside situation?” Zhong Jianguo picked a piece of fish for their youngest son. “You really care a lot about her business.”
Song Zhaodi sighed. “I don’t want to, but when I see how the principal and the others are worried sick, I figure I might as well take on the trouble.”
“Teacher Song, what about these little ones?” Zhong Jianguo reminded her.
“I’ll go on Sunday,” Song Zhaodi said. “I’ll ask Aunt Liu to help watch them for a day. Dawa, Erwa, in a few days, I have to go out for something. Can you help Grandma take care of your little brother?”
With their parents looking serious, Dawa knew that shaking his head now would definitely earn him a beating. He nodded. “Come back soon.”
“I’ll try to be back before dark.”
Instead of going directly to Teacher Yao, Song Zhaodi sent Lin Zhong.
When Teacher Yao arrived, Qian Qinghua had come along.
Song Zhaodi noticed that Qian Qinghua was walking unsteadily and frowned. “Why are you here? Are your injuries healed?”
“It’s just superficial wounds, nothing serious.” That day, after leaving the Zhong household, Qian Qinghua had confronted his father, questioning what his mother had ever done to deserve his cruelty. Commander Qian neither admitted nor denied anything—he simply pulled off his belt and beat Qian Qinghua while cursing him, calling him a brat who dared meddle in his father’s affairs.
Qian Qinghua was completely disillusioned with his father and hadn’t mentioned the missing letter.
Commander Qian wasn’t an observant man and hadn’t realised the letter was gone, giving Qian Qinghua time to hide it. Today, when he saw Lin Zhong, Qian Qinghua knew it was Song Zhaodi who had sent for him.
Thinking there was new information about his father’s mistress, he disregarded the pain in his back and buttocks and followed his mother.
Seeing the anxiety in his eyes, Song Zhaodi sighed. Children were always the ones hurt the most when parents fought. “I want to take your mother to Hangcheng. While I’m there, I’ll also check if I can buy some fabric. The kids are growing so fast—I need to stock up. Can you come?”
“I can,” Qian Qinghua replied. “I’ll go with you.”
Since Zhong Jianguo was a regiment commander and Song Zhaodi was a teacher, their rations and food stamps from the school and the military were more than enough for their family. Her parents had their own farmland and didn’t need her support, so she had been saving up her ration tickets, planning to trade them for fabric tickets.
With ration tickets and money tucked in her pocket, Song Zhaodi put on her patched-up old jacket and said, “Let’s go.”
Nowadays, each person only received enough fabric annually to make one set of clothes. Even if they didn’t want to wear old clothes, everyone had no choice but to. Song Zhaodi’s clothes had patches, and so did the clothes of Teacher Yao and Qian Qinghua.
The three of them looked no different from anyone else. When they arrived in Hangcheng, no one paid them any attention.
Song Zhaodi had visited once before the New Year, but now, coming again after the holiday, she noticed the atmosphere had become even more tense.
It was Teacher Yao and Qian Qinghua’s first time outside. Seeing the streets covered in large-character posters and people wearing red armbands everywhere, Qian Qinghua instinctively grabbed his mother’s arm.
Noticing how nervous and fearful Teacher Yao was, Song Zhaodi sighed, “Teacher Yao, now do you believe I wasn’t trying to scare you?”
“Thank you, Teacher Song.” Qian Qinghua saw the words on the wall, all calling to overthrow something, and couldn’t help but whisper, “Teacher Song, let’s go back.”
Song Zhaodi reassured him, “My family has been poor farmers for generations. You’ll be fine following me. I can even recite the Chairman’s quotes. Don’t be afraid. Let’s head to the cooperative.”
Having been here before, Song Zhaodi knew where to buy fabric. The recent weather had been unusually hot, feeling as if spring had been skipped entirely and summer had arrived in full force. She planned to check the cooperative, hoping to find some end-of-season fabric on clearance or exchange grain coupons.
At the cooperative, she picked out a friendly-looking woman at the counter and quietly asked if she was interested in exchanging fabric coupons for grain coupons.
The woman’s eyes lit up and asked how much she had.
Song Zhaodi had thirty jin of grain coupons but, after a quick thought, she told the woman she only had ten jin.
The woman was delighted and quickly told her to wait.
About ten minutes later, she returned with another woman, around forty years old. By then, Song Zhaodi had already separated her thirty jin of coupons.
When the woman arrived, Song Zhaodi sized her up, then took out ten jin of grain coupons in exchange for fabric coupons. After the woman left, Song Zhaodi handed the counter woman one jin of grain coupons. Before the woman could ask why, Song Zhaodi inquired if there was any end-of-season fabric available that could be bought without fabric coupons, as well as any fabric scraps.
With the heat continuing, the cooperative staff worried that if it stayed this warm, thick fabric would pile up in the warehouse, leaving no space for new lightweight materials. They planned to start clearing stock in a couple of days.
The counter woman went to check with her supervisor and returned, saying she couldn’t sell too much to Song Zhaodi.
Song Zhaodi didn’t ask for much—just enough to make outfits for three children.
Seeing how reasonable she was, the counter woman decided to share some of her personal fabric scraps, giving her half a sack for free. Still, when no one was looking, Song Zhaodi discreetly slipped her a dime.
Teacher Yao and Qian Qinghua watched as Song Zhaodi skillfully negotiated, their eyes widening as if they were seeing her for the first time.
As they were leaving, the counter woman even told Song Zhaodi to come again next time.
Teacher Yao couldn’t help but exclaim, “Teacher Song, you’re amazing.” Then, after a pause, she asked, “I saw you watching that woman for a while—were you making sure she had fabric coupons? How did you tell?”
“Her clothes had no patches, but her face was sallow—clearly someone who wasn’t short on clothing but lacked food,” Song Zhaodi explained. “When I spoke to her, her breath had that telltale smell—only people who haven’t eaten breakfast have that kind of breath.”
Teacher Yao opened her mouth, then, after a long moment, simply said, “You’re very observant.”
Song Zhaodi chuckled, “I’m not observant. Last year, when Old Zhong and I traveled back, we spent a whole day and night on the train with barely anything to eat. When we arrived in the morning, my breath smelled just like that. As for her complexion, it reminded me of people in our village who have too many mouths to feed and not enough grain to go around. That’s how I knew she was short on grain coupons.”
“That’s still impressive,” Qian Qinghua said, admiringly.
Song Zhaodi thought to herself, In my past life, I worked in the fashion industry—if I wasn’t sharp-eyed, even with mentors helping me, I never would have made it to Milan or Cannes.
“Do you two want to buy anything?” she asked. “I still have some grain coupons left.”
Teacher Yao replied, “Our family has some too. If we need anything in the future, we’ll come here to trade. But I hope Teacher Song can come with us again. I wouldn’t dare come alone.”
“I’d love to say yes, but I can’t—the three kids can’t be left alone.” Song Zhaodi wasn’t fond of Teacher Yao’s personality and didn’t want to get too close. “People from our island come here often. You can join them. Once you’re here, just don’t talk, don’t stare, and don’t meddle in anything. You’ll be fine.”
Since the three children were still small, Teacher Yao didn’t question her.
Once they got off the boat and returned to the island, Song Zhaodi asked, “So, what are you planning to do about Regiment Commander Qian?”
“We can’t get divorced,” Qian Qinghua was even more resolute after the trip. “If my dad keeps pressuring my mom, I’ll write a letter to the commander.”
Song Zhaodi hummed in approval. “My advice is that no matter what happens, don’t transfer out of the military and return to civilian life.”
“I know,” Qian Qinghua said. “My eldest brother is also in the army—I’ll talk to him about it.”
Seeing that he had a plan, Song Zhaodi was completely reassured. When she got close to home, she waved at Teacher Yao and put the fabric away before heading next door to pick up the children.
But as she walked over, she spotted Regiment Commander Qian’s mistress coming out of the Lin family’s house.
Song Zhaodi quickly hid behind the fence. Once the woman was gone, she asked Lin Zhong’s mother, “Chen dasao, wasn’t that Xiao Zhao from the supply store’s cash counter? Are you close with her?”
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