When Zili and Gengsheng were brought back by Song Zhaodi, their hands were ice-cold, and their little faces were frozen pale. Duan dasao felt terrible seeing the two children in such a state. Upon returning to Wengzhou Island, she couldn’t help but mention to Commander Liu that the two kids were truly pitiful.

With Liu Ping attending medical school and Liu Wei joining the army, the Liu family had few burdens and little work left to do. Commander Liu then instructed Duan dasao to help Song Zhaodi more.

For the past few days, Duan dasao had been picking spinach, lettuce, and leafy greens to send to the Zhong family, hoping the two children could eat a little better. However, she never considered how they might feel about it. “Then if your family runs out of vegetables, just come to my place to pick some. I won’t send them over anymore, alright?”

“Auntie, if we run out of vegetables, I’ll definitely come over to pick some,” Song Zhaodi said with a smile. “I wouldn’t be polite about it.”

Duan dasao chuckled. “Alright then. Hurry back now, the sun is already setting. It must be around two o’clock, the kids must be hungry by now.”

“You should head home too,” Song Zhaodi replied, unlocking the door and carrying a large burlap sack inside.

Five children ran out.

“Mom!” Sanwa shouted. “I’m hungry!”

Song Zhaodi threw the sack under the eaves. “None of you is allowed to touch the sack. Dawa, go lock the door from the inside. Zili, come help me start the fire. I’ll cook.”

“Okay,” Zili followed her in, not forgetting to add, “Auntie, we drank milk.”

Song Zhaodi paused for a moment before continuing forward. “The milk powder was bought for you to drink. By the way, has your Uncle Zhong not returned?”

“Uncle Zhong came back,” Zili said. “He asked if we wanted to eat in the canteen, but Dawa said no, that we’d wait for you. So Uncle Zhong left. Oh, and there’s no rice left at home. Uncle Zhong bought a sack of rice and wanted to cook, but Dawa wouldn’t let him.”

Song Zhaodi laughed. “Dawa doesn’t trust his dad’s cooking. Either it turns into porridge, or it’s so dry it’s inedible.” She scooped out half a ladle of rice, washed it, and set it on the stove to steam.

Then, she poured three ladles of water into the earthen stove. Once the water boiled, she blanched some pork bones before using them to make a seaweed soup.

Hearing footsteps, Song Zhaodi covered the large pot and turned to see Dawa. “Should I stir-fry some vegetables too?”

“What’s Mom making?” Zhong Dawa asked.

“Pork bone soup with rice,” Song Zhaodi replied. “Later, I’ll add some winter bamboo shoots we gathered from the mountain two days ago.”

“Then we don’t need to stir-fry vegetables,” Zhong Dawa said. “Mom, are we running low on food at home?”

Song Zhaodi looked at him. “Why do you ask?”

“Lin Zhong said Dad bought sweet potatoes and potatoes to save for later when we don’t have enough food,” Zhong Dawa said, glancing at Zili instinctively.

Song Zhaodi didn’t need to guess; this must be Chen dasao spreading rumours in front of Lin Zhong. “We still have 100 jin of grain ration tickets, enough to last until next month when your dad gets paid. The military distributes food rations as well.

“You kids are growing, and you get hungry even before mealtime. I thought it’d be good to buy some sweet potatoes to keep at home. If you get hungry, you can roast them yourself. As for the potatoes, those are for cooking – I’ll make some for dinner tonight.”

“Are you going to stew the potatoes?” Zhong Dawa asked.

“Potatoes taste best stewed with chicken or pork,” Song Zhaodi explained. “We don’t have any meat at home, so I won’t be stewing potatoes today. But once we’re done cooking, we’ll put a few sweet potatoes under the pot to bake. They’ll be ready by four o’clock.”

Zhong Dawa’s eyes lit up. “I’ve never had roasted sweet potatoes before!”

“I haven’t had them in years either,” Song Zhaodi said. “Don’t put too many in at once, or they won’t cook properly.”

“I know, I know,” Zhong Dawa replied, already planning to save room for potatoes at dinner.

Initially, Song Zhaodi had Zhong Jianguo buy potatoes and sweet potatoes to stretch their food supply. But now that Lin Zhong had spread the word and even Dawa was starting to worry about running out of food, she immediately decided they’d just eat as usual.

If they ever ran short on ration tickets, she’d ask Duan dasao to get some from Commander Zhao. As a commander, he received far more ration tickets than Zhong Jianguo each month, yet his family was smaller. If those tickets weren’t used, they’d only go to waste.

Not wanting to scrimp on food just to prove to Zili and Gengsheng that she hadn’t bought potatoes because of them, Song Zhaodi started kneading dough after lunch.

While waiting for the dough to rise, she selected six large potatoes, each about a jin in weight, peeled them, shredded them, and soaked them in water for later use.

Around seven o’clock, as darkness fell, Zhong Jianguo returned home. Seeing the empty living room, he was startled and quickly rushed to the kitchen. Finding all the children and Song Zhaodi inside, he let out a silent sigh of relief. “Dinner’s not ready yet?”

“The buns are still steaming,” Zhong Dawa said. “Dad, Mom said she’s making shredded potatoes later.”

Zhong Jianguo noticed the kettle on the stove. “Why not cook on the stove?”

“The wok on the stove is too small,” Song Zhaodi said, taking out the last batch of mantou and scooping out the water from the pot. Then she turned to Zili. “Go wash your hands. Everyone, get ready for dinner. Zhong Jianguo, keep the fire going while I stir-fry.”

Zili didn’t move.

Zhong Jianguo chuckled and pulled him up. “Go set the table, move the benches, and get the chopsticks.”

Only then did Zili lead his younger brothers to wash their hands.

Since everyone had good teeth, Song Zhaodi made vinegar-flavoured shredded potatoes.

Zhong Jianguo had only ever eaten stewed potato chunks before and was curious about this new dish. However, as soon as the red vinegar was added, even though he trusted Song Zhaodi’s cooking skills and expected the dish to taste fine, the tangy aroma made him swallow involuntarily. “Teacher Xiao Song, your cooking is improving.”

“I’ve been cooking for you and the kids for two years now,” Song Zhaodi said. “If I still couldn’t make a simple stir-fry…” She glanced outside to make sure no one was listening before lowering her voice. “I’d be too embarrassed to say I’ve lived an extra lifetime.”

Zhong Jianguo watched as she turned to get a serving bowl. “It’s done already?”

“It’s ready once the moisture evaporates,” Song Zhaodi said. “Try it if you don’t believe me.”

Zhong Jianguo grabbed a strand and popped it into his mouth. “It’s cooked through. Huh, why is it a bit spicy?”

“I added two red chillies,” Song Zhaodi said quickly. “You can taste the spice?”

Zhong Jianguo grabbed another bite. “Just a little. Sanwa can eat it.” He reached for another piece.

Song Zhaodi frowned. “Commander Zhong, did you wash your hands?”

Zhong Jianguo’s expression flickered with guilt. He cleared his throat. “I’ll go wash them now.”

Watching him leave, Song Zhaodi could only shake her head with a wry smile.

As soon as the two bowls of shredded potatoes were brought out, Zhong Dawa reached for a bun.

Song Zhaodi frowned. “Dawa, split it in half and share with Erwa.”

“I’ll just grab another one for him,” Zhong Dawa replied.

Zhong Jianguo continued, “Your mother is afraid you’ll overeat again. She made shredded potatoes today, and they’re especially delicious.”

“Really?” Zhong Dawa eagerly tore his bun in half, stuffed one half into Zhong Erwa’s hand, and picked up his chopsticks to grab some shredded potatoes. “Crispy and tangy? Mom, why didn’t you make this before?”

Song Zhaodi smiled. “I was in a good mood today.”

“Again with the mood?” Zhong Dawa pouted. “I don’t believe you.”

Zhong Jianguo said, “Your mother shredded all those potatoes by hand. It’s exhausting. Zhong Dawa, do you want to tire your mother out until she gets sick?”

Was his father imitating him? Zhong Dawa almost choked. “Then… then we won’t eat shredded potatoes tomorrow. We’ll have kelp and bone soup instead.”

“New Year’s is just around the corner,” Song Zhaodi said. “Tomorrow, we’ll steam buns and baozi. Oh, right, Zhong Jianguo, go buy two ducks later. If there aren’t any, one goose will do. We’ll have iron pot stewed goose on New Year’s Eve.”

Zili swallowed his bite of potato and hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Auntie, it doesn’t matter what we eat for New Year’s.”

Song Zhaodi was momentarily stunned, then chuckled. “You don’t think I asked your uncle to buy a goose just because you and Gengsheng came to our house, do you? That’s not it. Last Spring Festival, we killed two ducks. This year, we didn’t because the roosters and ducks are still young and not ready to eat.”

“That’s right,” Zhong Dawa nodded repeatedly. “My mom’s braised duck is amazing.” Then he noticed Zili eating his bun but barely touching the dishes. “You don’t like potatoes?”

Zili shook his head. “No.”

“Then why aren’t you eating them?” Zhong Dawa was curious.

Song Zhaodi said, “Zili is just shy. Help him get some.”

Before meeting Zili and Gengsheng, Song Zhaodi had told Zhong Dawa that they were orphans with no one to care for them. Later, when Zhong Dawa saw that they didn’t even have a pair of thick cotton pants, he thought they were really pitiful. Now, hearing Song Zhaodi’s words, he pushed the bowl of shredded potatoes toward Zili. “Eat up, no need to be shy.”

“That’s right,” Zhong Jianguo said. “Zili, you and Gengsheng are already on our household register. From now on, we’re family. Family members aren’t guests; no need to be so reserved.”

Zili’s eyes widened. “Uncle, you already went to handle it?”

Song Zhaodi said, “These days, there are many orphans. No one would doubt it if we said you and Gengsheng were orphans. So, you don’t have to be afraid anymore. When you go out to play, if someone asks your name, stand tall and tell them—you’re Zhong Zili.”

“Zhong Zili?” Erwa repeated.

Song Zhaodi nodded. “That’s right. The same surname as your dad, so you three brothers share the same family name.” Then she noticed Zhong Dawa nibbling on his half-eaten bun and immediately wanted to smack him. “Zhong Dawa, finish your bun before eating the dishes.”

“I am eating the bun.” Dawa took a small bite. “Mom, you should eat too. If you keep talking, the food will get cold.”

Song Zhaodi pointed at him in warning. “Later, if you complain about eating too much and having a stomachache, I won’t make you egg pancakes for breakfast tomorrow.”

Zhong Dawa immediately slowed down his chopstick movements.

Zhong Jianguo noticed and was speechless. “Zhaodi, we’re out of eggs.”

“I know, we have duck eggs,” Song Zhaodi said.

Dawa quickly swallowed his food. “Mom, duck eggs are fishy, I don’t like them.”

“You’ve just had too much good food,” Song Zhaodi glared at him. “Believe it or not, I’ll steam cornmeal buns tomorrow and make bean flour noodles for dinner.”

Dawa nodded. “Cornmeal buns are pretty tasty, and bean flour noodles are good too. Go ahead.”

Song Zhaodi was momentarily speechless. “You brat!” Then she turned to Zhong Jianguo. “Can we buy some rice wine? A little bit will get rid of the fishy taste.”

“Probably hard to find,” Zhong Jianguo said. “The last time I had a drink was four years ago, after we defeated Old Jiang.” He paused. “I’ll check tomorrow.” However, he didn’t manage to buy any.

Commander Zhao gave Duan dasao two extra jin of oil coupons for Song Zhaodi. Since this oil was unexpected, she used more when making the duck egg pancakes for the children. Zhong Dawa’s mouth was greasy as he ate, and he no longer complained about the duck eggs being fishy.

The next afternoon, Duan dasao came over to help Song Zhaodi steam baozi. Seeing that the filling was made of vermicelli, dried tofu skin and pork lard residue, she casually asked, “Did your family buy meat to render lard?”

“Bought it this morning,” Song Zhaodi replied. “We saved this month’s meat coupons just for New Year’s, to buy fatty pork for lard and baozi filling.”

Duan dasao was surprised. “You planned this from the start of the month? Xiao Song, you really know how to make the most of things.”

“My mom makes the best food,” Zhong Dawa said. Then he glanced at Song Zhaodi and, seeing that she wasn’t paying attention, quickly grabbed a piece of pork lard residue and popped it into his mouth.

Song Zhaodi caught him with her peripheral vision. “Zhong Dawa, if you dare steal another bite, I won’t make shredded potatoes tomorrow.”

Zhong Dawa immediately stood up, waved at his brothers, and said, “Let’s go play upstairs.” After a pause, he added, “I’ll get you guys some milk candies.”

“You still have milk candies left?” Duan dasao was curious.

Song Zhaodi said, “We bought a lot, enough to last until the Lantern Festival.”

“Xiao Song, don’t take this the wrong way, but at the rate you’re eating, you won’t save any money,” Duan dasao said. “The kids are young now, so it’s fine, but in a few years, when they grow up, if you don’t have money, it’ll be hard to find them wives.”

Song Zhaodi replied, “A daughter-in-law isn’t going to spend her life with Jianguo and me. If they want a wife, they can find one themselves.”

Duan dasao was momentarily stunned but then laughed. “Even if the boys find their own wives, you’ll still have to provide money for the wedding. The other day, when I went shopping, I heard that the regiment commander on the nearby island was marrying off his son. The bride’s family asked for a sewing machine and a radio.

“When Dawa grows up, what if his wife asks for one of those new televisions? Just one of those requests could give you a headache. Even if a girl doesn’t care at first, when she sees her friends getting married and receiving those things, she’ll start wanting them too.”

Song Zhaodi thought to herself: By the time our five boys graduate from college and get stable jobs with state-provided food rations, plenty of girls will be willing to marry into the Zhong family, even if we don’t buy them TVs or sewing machines.

“Dawa is only eight years old. He won’t be getting married for another ten years,” Song Zhaodi said. “And if he joins the army, who knows how many years it’ll take before he can marry. It’s too early to think about this. When he’s twenty, we’ll start saving then. Jianguo and I earn good salaries anyway.”

Duan dasao still couldn’t help but advise, “Having money in hand makes everything easier.”

“Auntie, is your family’s money managed by you or Uncle Liu?” Song Zhaodi asked.

Duan dasao replied, “Of course, by me. He doesn’t handle household affairs.”

“Well, in our house, Zhong Jianguo has all the money hidden away.” Not wanting to continue the topic of daughters-in-law, Song Zhaodi casually made something up. “He only gives me a hundred yuan a month.”

Duan dasao’s hand trembled, and the bun in her hand instantly deformed. “One hundred yuan isn’t enough? I heard Old Liu say that Jianguo only earns about a hundred yuan a month. Giving you a hundred, plus your own salary… Xiao Song, you’re spending money too recklessly. When Jianguo comes back, I have to talk to him. From now on, you’ll only get fifty yuan a month, no more.”

Zili was thirsty and went to get the thermos himself. Hearing Duan dasao’s words, he quietly walked back and whispered to Zhong Dawa, “Is your family very poor?”

“We’re not poor,” Zhong Dawa answered, but then realised something was off. “Zili, if you’re talking about our family, you should say ‘our family.’ We’re one family.”

Zili nodded to show he understood. “So, does our family not have money to use?”

“We do,” Zhong Dawa replied. “A lot of money.”

Zili thought about what he had just heard. “Grandma Liu told Auntie to save money. Isn’t it because our family has no money?”

Zhong Dawa’s heart skipped a beat, and he looked at Zili. “Weren’t you getting water for Sanwa? Why are you suddenly asking this?”

Zili looked at Zhong Dawa.

Zhong Dawa looked back at him. Go ahead, what are you up to?

Zili pursed his lips, hesitated for a long moment, then went to his room and lifted the lid of a wooden chest where he kept his clothes.

Dawa followed him inside. “What are you doing now?”

Zili rummaged under a white shirt, pulled out a rolled-up bundle, and handed it to Dawa.

Dawa instinctively unrolled it. When he saw what it was, he gasped in shock. “W-where did you get so much money?!”

“My uncle gave it to me before,” Zili thought for a moment and added, “I thought that if… if we didn’t have money, I could give mine to Auntie.”

Song Zhaodi had never spoken about Zili and Gengsheng’s relationship with Commander Zhao in front of the children. At this stage, Dawa was most interested in food. If he overheard anything, he would forget it quickly.

Zhong Dawa asked curiously, “Then why didn’t your uncle adopt you and Gengsheng?”

“He’s old,” Zili replied.

Dawa patted him on the shoulder. “Poor kid. Keep your money. Our family has plenty of it.” He paused. “Since you showed me your money, I’ll show you our family’s money. Come with me.”

He pushed open his parents’ bedroom door and waved at Zili.

Zili followed him in. Dawa pulled back the quilt and dug out two thick stacks of ten-yuan bills.

Looking at the money in his own hands and then at the money in Dawa’s, Zili suddenly understood. It wasn’t that Song Zhaodi was too busy and forgot about money, it was that she simply didn’t care about a child’s savings. But something still didn’t add up. “Then why does Grandma Liu think our family has no money?”

Dawa stuffed the money back. “Because Dad goes to the supply store every day and buys lots of delicious food. He always gets the things that don’t require ration tickets, like money isn’t an issue.” He paused. “Lin Zhong’s mom also said that my mom wants people to think we don’t have money, so no one comes to borrow from us.”

Zili couldn’t help but admire her. “Auntie is so smart.” He thought for a moment, then handed the money back to Dawa. “Put it in.” He pointed at the quilt.

“This is the money your uncle left for you,” Dawa tried to return it.

Zili stuffed it back. “You just said, we’re one family. A family’s money should be kept together.”

“That makes sense,” Zhong Dawa agreed after thinking about it.

Zili nodded confidently. “Of course! Auntie also said she’s going to send Gengsheng and me to college, and college costs a lot of money.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Zhong Dawa said. “My mom said if you go to a teacher’s college or a military academy, the government pays for it.”

Zili was stunned. Zhong Dawa, you know too much. “I don’t want to go to a teacher’s college or a military academy, I want to go to Imperial Capital University.”

“Imperial Capital University?” Zhong Dawa didn’t really know what that was. “Alright, I’ll put it back. But you can’t take it back later.”

Zili declared, “A man keeps his word. I won’t go back on it.”

“You’re not even taller than me,” Zhong Dawa sized him up. “Such big talk. You’re just a little brat.”

Zili suddenly understood why the adults in the family always wanted to smack Zhong Dawa. That mouth of his, he wanted to hit him, too.

“Nothing to say, huh?” Zhong Dawa smirked smugly and pushed Zili out, shutting the door behind him. “Go watch the others upstairs. I’ll see if Mom needs me to tend the fire.”

Zili said bluntly, “You just want to sneak some lard cracklings, don’t you?”

“I do not!” Zhong Dawa’s face turned red. After a pause, he added, “You don’t want some? I’m telling you, if you sprinkle just a little salt on them, they’re even tastier than vinegar potato slivers. Absolutely delicious.”

Zili swallowed.

Zhong Erwa chimed in, “Brother, I want some.”

“I know where to get them,” Zhong Dawa said. “There’s still a bowl in the kitchen cabinet. If you guys want some, I can get them—but if Mom finds out, you have to say you wanted them, and you can’t blame me.”

[SM] 53: Dawa’s Mischief [SM] 55: Mischievous Children

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