Lin Zhong’s face lit up with joy as he quickly said, “Thank you, Uncle Zhong.”
“No need to thank me,” Zhong Jianguo replied modestly. “I don’t know how to make clothes. If you want to thank someone, thank Teacher Song.”
Lin Zhong nodded and turned to head home.
Zhong Jianguo called after him, “Dawa, go tell your mother. She doesn’t know yet.”
“Okay.” Dawa went out and strutted around, basking in the envious gazes of others. If he didn’t have to take care of his younger brother, Sanwa, he would’ve already dragged Erwa along for a tour around the neighbourhood.
It was a hot day. To provoke Zhong Jianguo, Song Zhaodi had worn long pants and a long-sleeved shirt. The moment Zhong Jianguo left, she went upstairs and changed into knee-length shorts and a short-sleeved shirt, instantly transforming into an ordinary housewife.
Hearing Dawa call for her, Song Zhaodi ran downstairs while tying up her hair. “What is it?”
“Mom, you have to make Ma Zhenxing’s clothes just as nice as mine,” Dawa said.
Song Zhaodi was puzzled. “I’m making clothes for Ma Zhenxing?”
“Yes.” Dawa agreed without hesitation. “He’ll be coming over soon.”
Seeing that Song Zhaodi was talking to his brother and ignoring him, Erwa ran up to her. “Mom, and Lin Zhong too.”
Song Zhaodi understood now. “Zhong Dawa, you are really capable. You went out and brought me back multiple orders. Did you even ask for my opinion?”
Dawa blinked, looking guilty. “Dad said so.”
“Dad?” Song Zhaodi frowned. “What did your dad say?”
Dawa replied, “Dad said your sewing is good and told Lin Zhong to go home and get some fabric. If you don’t believe me, ask Erwa.”
“It’s true,” Erwa nodded repeatedly. “Mom, I’m thirsty.”
Song Zhaodi clenched her teeth and took a deep breath. That damn Zhong Jianguo. “Wait, I’ll get you some water.”
Before she could pour the water, she heard Chen dasao’s voice.
Lin Zhong was the youngest child of Commander Lin, who had three daughters and one son. Song Zhaodi wasn’t very familiar with Lin Zhong’s mother, Chen dasao, but from the fact that she kept having children after three daughters and the way she acted when picking out clothes for Lin Zhong last time, it was clear that she favoured boys over girls.
Since Chen dasao came in person for her son, Song Zhaodi knew she couldn’t refuse. Refusing would mean offending her. So, she brought out two bowls of plain water and greeted her with a smile. “Saozi, you’re here. Please sit.”
Chen dasao smiled, looking a bit embarrassed. “Lin Zhong saw your Dawa’s clothes and thought they looked nice. Xiao Song, sorry for troubling you.”
“It’s no trouble at all.” Song Zhaodi secretly cursed Zhong Jianguo again but kept a warm smile. “But saozi, the Ma family’s kid also asked me to make him clothes, and I still have to take care of Sanwa. I won’t be able to finish it right away. It might take one or two weeks.”
Chen dasao thought she was unwilling but then caught the last part, and her smile deepened. “That’s fine, no problem.”
“Mom…” Lin Zhong tugged at Chen dasao’s sleeve and gestured toward where Sanwa was.
Chen dasao chuckled. “Xiao Song, if you’re okay with it, I can help you watch Sanwa.”
“If Lin Zhong is in a hurry for his clothes, then I’ll have to trouble you, saozi.” Song Zhaodi wouldn’t be polite with her. “Once Dawa and Erwa finish their homework, I’ll send them to your house.”
Chen dasao laughed. “No need for that. I’ll come over after lunch.”
Song Zhaodi cursed Zhong Jianguo in her heart again. “Then come by around 2.30 or 3 in the afternoon.”
“Alright.” Chen dasao smiled. “I’ll leave the fabric here.”
“Just put it on the chair. The kids won’t touch it.” Song Zhaodi said.
After Chen dasao left, Song Zhaodi pointed at Zhong Dawa and warned, “From now on, if anyone asks me to make clothes, tell them I’m too busy and don’t have time. Otherwise, I won’t cook lunch or dinner.”
“Got it.” Zhong Dawa shivered and sneaked a glance at Song Zhaodi. Carefully, he asked, “Are you still making clothes for Ma Zhenxing?”
“Just this once. No exceptions in the future.”
About ten minutes later, Zhou Shufen arrived with her two children, bringing a piece of fabric and asking Song Zhaodi to make clothes for them.
Song Zhaodi unfolded the fabric, measured it with her hands, and told Zhou Shufen that there was only enough for one set.
The Ma family’s two children clung to Zhou Shufen’s arms, looking at her pitifully.
Seeing this, Song Zhaodi felt bad and suggested making two tops instead. They could just pair them with black or grey pants from home.
The fabric was actually leftover from making clothes for the children, and Zhou Shufen had planned to use it to make herself two pairs of shorts. But after hearing Song Zhaodi’s suggestion and looking at her children, she hesitated and eventually agreed to make two vests instead.
Song Zhaodi neatly folded the fabric and placed it on top of Chen dasao’s fabric. Then, she told Zhou Shufen that since she still had to make Lin Zhong’s outfit, Ma Zhenxing and his brother’s clothes would have to wait a few days.
Zhou Shufen saw the fabric on the long bench as soon as she entered and had no doubts about Song Zhaodi’s words. She said it wasn’t too hot yet, so her kids weren’t in a rush to wear them.
After sending Zhou Shufen off, Song Zhaodi closed the door, took out her sewing kit, and started working.
Zhong Dawa curiously asked, “Mom, are you making clothes for Ma Zhenxing now?”
“What clothes? I haven’t even taken measurements.” Song Zhaodi replied. “I’m making shoes for you guys, stitching the soles.”
As she spoke, she organised the scraps of fabric in the box. “Zhong Dawa, listen to me. If you ever take more orders for me again, even if your shoes have ten toes sticking out, I won’t make you new ones.”
Zhong Dawa wanted to blame his father, but when Song Zhaodi glared at him, he shut up immediately. “Mom, I’ll take my brothers to play.”
“It’s hot outside. Stay under the eaves,” Song Zhaodi said. “Take the fabric on the windowsill, lay it on the ground, and sit there to play.”
Zhong Dawa nodded his little head, walked to the door, then couldn’t resist turning back. “Mom, if someone comes again, I’ll just say you’re not home.”
“They don’t believe it,” Song Zhaodi said, then suddenly thought of something. “I have a way to refuse. You don’t have to worry about it.” She then went upstairs and brought down the old clothes and English books of the three children.
At 2.30 in the afternoon, Chen dasao arrived with Lin Zhong.
Song Zhaodi used a rope as a makeshift ruler to measure Lin Zhong’s size, then pulled out the large table and started cutting fabric.
The eldest and second child were lying on the small table, doing the homework assigned by Song Zhaodi, while Chen dasao helped look after the youngest. With no need to watch the children, and given her skills, Song Zhaodi could easily cut out a short-sleeved top and cropped pants in no time.
Yet, she deliberately dragged the process out for over an hour. Even Chen dasao started getting anxious for her and couldn’t help but comment, “Xiao Song, you are really meticulous when making clothes.”
“I haven’t done this much before. I’m afraid of cutting the fabric wrong,” Song Zhaodi replied. “Back home, it was always my mother or my sister who cut the fabric while I did the sewing. Holding the scissors myself, I can’t help but feel my hands shaking and my heart racing for no reason.”
Chen dasao quickly said, “Then I won’t distract you anymore. Take your time, Xiao Song, no rush.”
There are some people who are warm and considerate to others and handle things flawlessly, yet they are difficult to like. To Song Zhaodi, Chen dasao was exactly this type of person. She didn’t like her. If asked why, Song Zhaodi wouldn’t be able to pinpoint a reason—she just knew she would rather interact with Zhou Shufen than deal with Chen dasao.
During lunch, Song Zhaodi had already instructed the eldest child that when the clock upstairs struck five, he should start complaining about being hungry.
A little past four, Song Zhaodi finished cutting the clothes. Chen dasao took a ball of thread out of her pocket and asked, “Is this enough?”
“I’m not sure,” Song Zhaodi’s eyelids twitched. “I’ve never made clothes for a child as big as Lin Zhong before, so I don’t know how much thread it’ll take.” She picked up the cut fabric and added, “Saozi, my stitches are tight, and I also overlock the edges, so I think I’ll need one more ball of thread.”
Chen dasao was silent for a moment. “Then I’ll bring you another ball later.”
Without looking at her expression, Song Zhaodi could already tell that her face didn’t look too good. So, she started sewing the sleeves, collar and pant legs first.
Halfway through sewing the pant legs, the clock upstairs chimed. Zhong Dawa, who was engrossed in his homework, immediately threw down his pen and cheered, “Mom, it’s five o’clock! Time to cook!”
“You eat this early?” Chen dasao asked in surprise.
Song Zhaodi replied, “We ate early at noon today. They woke up from their nap just past one. Usually, they sleep until two and then rush off to school, managing to be late four times a week.”
Being frequently late was true. Zhong Dawa felt embarrassed and covered his face with his hands. “Mom, let’s cook first. You can sew later.”
Song Zhaodi’s hand twitched. This little rascal!
Seeing this, Chen dasao said, “Xiao Song, you should cook first.”
Song Zhaodi put down the clothes and glanced at Lin Zhong, who was still there. She smiled and said, “Saozi, your Lin Zhong seems quite eager. Why don’t you take the pieces home and sew them yourself? I’ve already cut everything. Just make them as you usually do.”
There was a state-run garment shop on the island, but people were used to being frugal, so they often made simple clothes themselves. Chen dasao also knew how to sew, and while watching Song Zhaodi cut the fabric, she had already noted that it was just a top and pants—nothing particularly special.
Hearing this, Chen dasao looked at her son, then said, “Alright, I’ll sew them myself.”
“Sure,” Song Zhaodi handed her the fabric along with the leftover scraps.
Chen dasao took them and smiled, “Thank you, Xiao Song.”
“No trouble at all,” Song Zhaodi smiled back and saw them out.
Zhong Dawa clung to the door, peeking outside. When he saw Song Zhaodi closing the main door and coming back, he quickly ran back inside.
The cucumbers and gourds in the yard hadn’t grown yet, and the scallions and garlic were too short to provide any cover. Turning around, Song Zhaodi immediately spotted Zhong Dawa. Inside, she saw him holding his workbook and teaching the youngest how to count. She glanced at him before quietly tidying up the chalk.
“Mom, are you unhappy?” Zhong Dawa probed.
Song Zhaodi replied, “I could have had half a day to rest. Instead, I not only helped someone make clothes but also got watched by Lin Zhong’s mom the whole time. I couldn’t even slack off if I wanted to. Would you be happy?”
Zhong Dawa thought about it. If his mother stared at him without blinking while he did homework, he would find it annoying too. “Then… then let’s not do it for them next time.”
“Of course!” Song Zhaodi declared. “Next time someone asks me to make clothes, you all should throw a fit and call me to join you in the play.”
Zhong Dawa’s eyes lit up. “Okay! Mom, are we cooking now?”
“Yes,” Song Zhaodi replied. Chen dasao was a meticulous person—she was even the type to watch their chimney to see when it started smoking. Thinking of this, Song Zhaodi asked, “What do you want to eat?”
Zhong Dawa licked his lips. “I want fried pancakes.”
“You have good taste!” Song Zhaodi tapped his forehead. “Watch your brother while I knead the dough.”
After kneading, Song Zhaodi plucked a handful of scallion leaves, put some rice porridge on the stove, and made six large, round fried pancakes using the earthen stove—essentially a homemade version of scallion pancakes.
As soon as Zhong Jianguo stepped into the yard, he was hit by the delicious aroma and quickened his pace. Inside, he saw the second and third children and whispered, “Is your mom and brother cooking? What are they making?”
“Fried pancakes,” the second child answered, having peeked just now. “They’re almost done. We’re about to eat, Dad—go wash your hands!”
After washing, Zhong Jianguo came back and saw three bowls and three pairs of chopsticks on the table. His expression changed slightly as he pulled out a stool and sat down. “Dawa, get me a set of chopsticks.”
“Take care of your own things,” Song Zhaodi said before Dawa could move.
With his mouth full of pancakes, Zhong Dawa could only nod vigorously in agreement—Mom was right.
Zhong Jianguo coughed awkwardly. “Did Lin Zhong come looking for you?”
“What do you think?” Song Zhaodi shot back. “From now on, if you take on something for me, sleep on the bench for a month.”
Zhong Jianguo stood up and went to the kitchen to get his own utensils.
Erwa laughed, “Mom, Dad is afraid of you!”
“He’s not afraid of me—he just knows he’s in the wrong,” Song Zhaodi said. “Dawa, go find Ma Zhenxing tomorrow morning and tell his mom that I’ll measure his and his brother’s sizes. I have to prepare lessons in the afternoon and won’t have time.”
On Sunday, Zhong Dawa went to Ma’s house and relayed the message to Zhou Shufen.
Zhou Shufen, knowing that Song Zhaodi not only had to care for her children but also teach students, felt embarrassed and packed a small basin full of sticky rice cakes for Dawa.
Children love sweets, so Zhou Shufen warned them to wait until they got home before eating.
Zhong Dawa, curious about the taste, held back until he reached home.
Seeing what he brought, Song Zhaodi took Ma’s brothers’ measurements, then sent the children off to eat their treats.
In just half an hour, she not only cut out two vests but also used the leftover fabric to piece together a pair of shorts for the younger Ma boy.
On April 7th, Sunday afternoon, Zhou Shufen brought her children over. Seeing the finished clothes, she was amazed. “Teacher Song, you’re so skilled!”
Song Zhaodi smiled. “Not really. It took me a whole week to sew these. If I were a tailor, I’d starve. Oh, by the way, since there wasn’t enough fabric, I made the neckline a bit bigger and used the leftover scraps to make decorative knot buttons. Now, there’s nothing left.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Zhou Shufen said. “I know how much fabric there is. When you said earlier that you could make two vests, I thought you were exaggerating. On the way here, I kept worrying that if you only made one, I wouldn’t be able to explain it to Xiao’er.”
Song Zhaodi chuckled. “Your Ma Zhenxing is about the same height as Dawa. I might not be confident about other clothes, but I know exactly how much fabric is needed for kids his size.”
“Then I won’t disturb you,” Zhou Shufen said, noticing the half-finished shoe sole in the sewing basket on the chair. She turned to her sons. “Zhenxing, Xiao’er, do you want to stay here and play or go home?”
Ma Zhenxing wanted to play with Dawa, but when he saw the clothes in his mother’s hands, he waved at Dawa instead. “Zhong Dawa, I’ll come find you tomorrow.”
“I have school tomorrow,” Zhong Dawa reminded him.
Ma Zhenxing suddenly remembered that tomorrow was Monday. “Then I’ll come find you before school.”
“Alright, Ma Zhenxing,” Zhong Dawa said. “I’ll wait for you at home, but you better come early. If you’re late, I won’t wait.”
Ma Zhenxing stopped at the door and insisted, “You have to wait for me. I’ll come early.”
“If you’re not early, I won’t wait,” Zhong Dawa replied.
Song Zhaodi rubbed her forehead. “Dawa, go upstairs and bring me my English book.”
“Oh, okay.” Zhong Dawa turned and ran upstairs. Seeing this, Ma Zhenxing followed his mother out.
Song Zhaodi couldn’t help but sigh. “Thank goodness we only have three kids. If we had three more, life would be unlivable.”
“Three more girls would be fine too,” Zhong Jianguo’s voice came from outside.
Song Zhaodi’s heart skipped a beat. “Why are you back so early?”
“The situation has been getting more tense lately. The commander held a meeting today—it went on all day and gave me a headache. As soon as it ended, I came straight home,” Zhong Jianguo said. “I ran into Old Ma’s wife. Since the clothes are finished, can I finally sleep in the bed tonight?”
Since last Saturday, Zhong Jianguo had been sleeping in a chair. He had tried sneaking back into bed a few times, but every time he did, Song Zhaodi would wake up in the middle of the night and kick him off. After that, he didn’t dare try any more tricks and obediently stayed in the chair.
Song Zhaodi let out a cold snort. “And what if I say no?”
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