Song Zhaodi couldn’t help but hold her forehead. This mischievous child used to follow her lead in conversations, but today he had learned to block her words. “Dawa, if you keep talking, the dumplings will get cold.”
Zili tugged at Dawa’s sleeve, signaling him to stop talking; any more and their aunt would get angry.
Zhong Dawa glanced at Song Laibao, curled his lips slightly and lowered his head to eat.
Song Zhaodi sighed, worried that Dawa might say something else to upset her elder sister. She quickly changed the subject, “Jie, let’s eat.”
Song Laibao picked up her chopsticks and took a bite of the steamed bun, but she found it difficult to swallow.
She hurriedly finished the bun in large bites, then noticed the children had all put down their bowls and run outside to play. She stopped eating as well and started helping Song Zhaodi clean up.
For breakfast, the Zhong family had steamed buns, pickled vegetables, dumplings and white rice porridge. The pots and bowls were easy to wash. When Song Zhaodi saw Song Laibao carrying the dishes to the kitchen, she said, “Dajie, the dishes don’t have any grease on them. I can just rinse them with cold water.”
“You wash them by the well? I’ll do it,” Song Laibao said as she turned to place the dishes in the metal sink.
Song Zhaodi was taken aback. “Dajie, why are you crying?” Then it suddenly struck her. “Is it because Dawa said he doesn’t believe you? Don’t cry, I’ll give him a good scolding later. That brat is getting more and more unruly.”
“It’s not that,” Song Laibao wiped her tears and quickly explained. “I… I always thought I was the one who cared for the children the most. But I never realised that in their eyes, I…” Her voice trembled and fresh tears welled up.
Song Zhaodi hurriedly grabbed a towel. “Dajie, it’s not just you. Don’t take it too hard. I only know these things because I’ve heard my students complain about their parents. After hearing so many stories, I figured out how to teach children.” She handed over the towel. “Wipe your tears first. Now that you realise your mistakes, it’s not too late to change, Dali and Liu Gen are still young.”
Song Laibao nodded repeatedly, her voice choked with emotion. “Before, when you brought the kids home, you gave them one egg a day, never missing a single one. I thought you would spoil them rotten. I was sure I knew how to raise kids better than you.”
“I know,” Song Zhaodi replied.
Hearing this, Song Laibao looked up in surprise.
Song Zhaodi smiled. “You’re my sister, of course, I understand you.” Since she possessed the original host’s memories, she spoke without hesitation. “The past is in the past. Wash your face and go with Auntie to the Jin family’s place.”
Song Laibao hesitated. “I should go too?”
“You know more about the village affairs,” Song Zhaodi explained. “Auntie doesn’t understand much and jiefu is careless. You should keep an eye on things and make sure the Jin family settles the issue of the homestead properly.”
Song Laibao nodded. “Right. There might also be private land involved, we need to claim that too.”
“One thing to remember, don’t say it’s for Liu Ping’s sake,” Song Zhaodi warned. “Liu Ping listens to Xiao Jin’s every word. If you approach it as if you’re doing it for her, she might foolishly say she doesn’t need your concern. Instead, say it’s for the child’s well-being.
“Tell Xiao Jin’s parents that this is Liu Ping’s first pregnancy and she doesn’t know much. As elders, they should help her more. Commander Liu only has one daughter and he’s very worried about Liu Ping.”
Song Laibao nodded in understanding. “I see what you mean. Jin Lihui married Liu Ping because her father is Commander Liu. We’ll just remind them that the daughter of a commander is not the same as an ordinary girl. If they don’t take good care of her, their family will suffer the consequences.”
“Exactly,” Song Zhaodi confirmed. “But don’t be too aggressive, let the neighbours see that you’re only showing concern for Liu Ping.”
As she washed her face, Song Laibao replied, “I know how to handle it.”
“Jie, the wind is strong on the island, apply some snow cream,” Song Zhaodi reminded her. “Otherwise, by the time you come back this afternoon, your face will be chapped.”
Song Laibao hesitated, feeling embarrassed to use Song Zhaodi’s snow cream. She thought it was too expensive. In the morning, when she applied some to her sons, she noticed its pleasant fragrance but didn’t dare use it herself since Song Zhaodi hadn’t offered.
Now that Song Zhaodi mentioned it, she felt even more reluctant. “If we keep using your snow cream, it’ll be finished soon.”
“I’ll just buy more,” Song Zhaodi replied. “If your hands and face get chapped, not only will it hurt, but it’ll also slow you down when working.”
After thinking about it, Song Laibao realised she was right.
Watching her sister’s back, Song Zhaodi sighed. Her two cheap sisters truly were extremes.
At noon, Zhong Jianguo came home and didn’t see Song Laibao. When he spotted Song Zhaodi, he immediately asked, “Did you drive your sister away?”
“Dawa did,” Song Zhaodi replied seriously. “I had little to do with it.”
Just then, Dali and Liu Gen ran inside from the yard.
Zhong Jianguo felt like kicking her. “You’re full of nonsense.”
“I was just going along with what you said,” Song Zhaodi retorted. She hadn’t started cooking yet. “What should we have for lunch?”
“Whatever you make, I’ll eat. I’m easy to please,” Zhong Jianguo said.
“Be serious,” Song Zhaodi said. “We don’t have much cooking oil left. I didn’t fry any dishes this morning, so we’ll need to cook something properly for dinner. Should we just have something simple for lunch?”
Zhong Jianguo had rushed home for lunch because he didn’t want something “simple.” Otherwise, he would have just eaten at the cafeteria. “Do we still have meat ration tickets?”
“I planned to buy meat the day after tomorrow,” Song Zhaodi replied. “The day after that is the 13th and my sister and brother-in-law are leaving in the morning.”
Zhong Jianguo thought for a moment. “Do we have cabbage?”
“There’s still half a jar of pickled cabbage from before the New Year,” Song Zhaodi said. “But we ran out of fresh cabbage a long time ago. How about noodle soup with lettuce or spinach?”
Zhong Jianguo wasn’t in the mood for vegetable noodles. “Give me the meat ticket, I’ll go buy a pound of meat. I’ll also check if the supply store has vermicelli. If not, I’ll get sweet potato noodles. We’ll make pickled cabbage stew with vermicelli.”
“Alright, you go buy it,” Song Zhaodi agreed, too lazy to argue. “I’ll steam some rice. The tickets are in the small change box.”
Twenty minutes later, Zhong Jianguo returned with five pounds of sweet potato noodles and a pound of pork belly since he couldn’t find vermicelli.
The pork was sliced and fried in a pan until the fat was rendered, then the excess oil was poured into a container. After that, the pickled cabbage was added to the pan, some water was poured in, it was let to simmer for a while and the soaked sweet potato noodles was finally added.
When Zhong Dawa and the other boys came back, they immediately smelled the sour and savoury aroma mixed with the scent of meat and rushed to the kitchen. “Mom, what are you making? It smells delicious!”
“Go wash your hands and face first,” Song Zhaodi said without answering. “Lunch will be ready in five or six minutes.”
Zhong Dawa swallowed hard, turned around and waved his small hand, signaling a group of children to file out.
To extract as much oil as possible from the meat, Song Zhaodi added a lot of pickled vegetables and vermicelli. When the dish was ready, she filled two large bowls to the brim.
Zhong Jianguo carried a bowl in each hand and muttered as he walked, “You put in so many pickled vegetables that the meat doesn’t even taste like meat anymore.”
“If you cut off a piece of meat from your leg and put it in, it’ll have a meatier taste,” Song Zhaodi retorted, following behind him with a steel pot in hand. “Dawa told me that you all rarely ate fish before, hardly ever bought bone meat and had to rely on just five pounds of meat ration tickets per month. Yet, you never complained. Now you have so many opinions, are you dissatisfied with me?”
Zhong Jianguo choked on his words. “What are you saying? When did I ever complain? I haven’t said a word!”
Dawa, walking behind his parents with bowls and chopsticks in hand, glanced at Zhong Jianguo and sighed helplessly. “I was the one who said that.” Placing his chopsticks on the table, he continued, “Mom, you should take a break. I’ll serve the rice.”
“It’s fine,” Song Zhaodi said with a smile. “Shall I serve you half a bowl of rice first?”
Dawa glanced at the food. “Just a small half-bowl. I want to try your cooking first.”
“Alright,” Song Zhaodi chuckled. “If it’s good, eat more. Try to finish it so I can cook something new for dinner.”
Erwa eagerly asked, “Mom, what are we having for dinner?”
“Braised Zhong Erwa,” Song Zhaodi teased, looking at him. “How does that sound?”
Erwa quickly shook his head. “I don’t taste good! Sanwa tastes better.”
“I’m not tasty either!” Sanwa pointed at Dali and Liugen. “Mom, you should eat them. Aunt and Uncle aren’t home and when they come back, we’ll just say… we’ll just say they fell into the sea.”
Dali and Liu Gen spoke in unison, “Aunt, we’re not tasty either!”
“Your aunt was just joking with you,” Zhong Jianguo reassured the children, worried they might take it seriously. “Eating human flesh will kill you.”
Dali and Liu Gen let out a sigh of relief.
Song Zhaodi couldn’t help but laugh as she handed a bowl to Song Dali. “Eat more vegetables.”
“I will,” Dali replied, pausing for a moment before adding, “Thank you, Aunt.”
“We’re family; no need to be so polite,” Song Zhaodi said.
After dinner, the children washed the dishes and Song Zhaodi called them into the house. She pointed at the brushes and paper on the table. “Let’s practice calligraphy together.”
After a meal, their bodies were warm and their hands weren’t cold. None of the seven children objected. Zili, Gengsheng, Dawa and Dali leaned over the big table, while Song Zhaodi guided the three younger ones at the small table.
They had just finished one page when Song Laibao arrived.
Worried that the children might overhear and spread the news, Song Zhaodi sent them upstairs before asking, “How did it go?”
“Smooth as can be. The Jin family saw Uncle Liu’s guard and didn’t dare say a word,” Song Laibao replied. “But Jin Lihui’s younger brother kept trying to chat with Uncle Liu’s guard. I think he wants to join the army.”
“The military has rules,” Song Zhaodi said. “Uncle Liu is an old revolutionary. Even if Liu Wei wanted to enlist here, Uncle Liu wouldn’t allow it. The Jin family shouldn’t even think about it.”
“Then there’s nothing to worry about,” Song Laibao said. “If the guard hadn’t been with us, things wouldn’t have gone so smoothly.”
Liu Yang nodded. “Exactly. When we mentioned building a house, Jin Lihui’s parents even said we didn’t need to hire anyone. The Jin family has plenty of people and they could build the house in just a few days.
“But Aunt said everyone is busy and she didn’t want to trouble them. She also mentioned that we had already hired professional builders who would start laying the foundation next weekend. As soon as she finished speaking, Jin Lihui’s parents’ faces turned sour. I have a feeling there’ll be more trouble ahead.”
“The Liu and Jin families are mismatched. From the moment she chose to marry Jin Lihui, she should have been prepared for this,” Song Zhaodi clicked her tongue. “Unfortunately, she wasn’t. Whether they can work things out or not is her own doing. You don’t need to worry about it. If you interfere too much, she’ll just accuse you of meddling.”
Liu Yang sighed, “I don’t plan to interfere, I’m just worried about my uncle and aunt.”
“They’re already heartbroken over her,” Song Zhaodi said. “From what I’ve gathered, Aunt Liu is already mentally prepared for Liu Ping’s divorce.”
Liu Yang’s eyes widened. “No way!”
“It makes sense,” Song Zhaodi replied. “Aunt Liu never approved from the start, but her daughter was too stubborn, so she had no choice but to accept it. Jiefu, jie, you’ve been running around all day. Go upstairs and get some rest.”
Liu Yang and Song Laibao had been stressed and sleep-deprived over Liu Ping’s situation. After dealing with the Jin family all day, they were mentally and physically exhausted. They didn’t refuse Song Zhaodi’s offer and went upstairs to rest.
On the morning of the thirteenth day of the Lunar New Year, after seeing Song Laibao’s family off, Song Zhaodi also felt drained. However, instead of sleeping, she stripped the bed sheets and washed them, prepared lunch and only then went upstairs to nap.
Worried that she might get sick in her sleep, Zhong Dawa checked on her every now and then, once, twice, three times, four times, until he confirmed that her breathing was steady and her complexion was rosy. Only then did he feel assured enough to take his siblings outside to play.
Song Zhaodi slept deeply, so much so that she wouldn’t have noticed if someone had thrown her into the sea. It was because of this that Zhong Jianguo had initially been certain she wasn’t a spy. A spy like her wouldn’t have even graduated from training.
At around four in the afternoon, Song Zhaodi woke up feeling lazy and unmotivated to cook. She simply reheated some steamed buns and served them with pickled carrots and garlic for the children.
Seeing her lack of energy, the children didn’t complain. After eating, they poured themselves hot water and washed their faces and feet on their own.
Touched by their thoughtfulness, Song Zhaodi made them pork fat pancakes with eggs for breakfast the next morning.
Two pancakes each, no more, no less. The five children ate with their mouths covered in oil. Zhong Jianguo, watching enviously, couldn’t help but ask, “When will oil ration tickets be abolished?”
“I want to know that even more than you do,” Song Zhaodi whispered. “If I didn’t have ‘her’ memories and weren’t constantly calculating how much oil to use, I would have gone crazy already.”
Zhong Jianguo immediately stopped asking. “Forget I said anything. Just cook however you want. If we run out of oil, we’ll eat boiled vegetables.”
“Oh, so we eat boiled vegetables while you sneak off to the canteen, huh?” Song Zhaodi challenged.
Zhong Jianguo’s face turned red. “I wasn’t thinking that! Stop making things up.”
“Your expression says otherwise,” Song Zhaodi smirked. “Hurry up and eat. Afterward, I need to clean up. Later, I have to go up the mountain with Aunt Liu to dig for bamboo shoots.”
Zhong Jianguo offered, “You go ahead, I’ll clean up.”
“Alright, I’m off then,” Song Zhaodi said.
Zhong Jianguo waved her away. “Go on, go on.”
Song Zhaodi grabbed an iron pick and a basket and headed to the Liu family’s house. Seeing Aunt Liu on the phone, she didn’t enter right away. But when she heard the words “Xiao Zhong,” she tensed up and instinctively rushed inside. “Auntie, is it for Jianguo?”
“Yes, it’s Jianguo’s older brother. Here, take it quickly,” Duan dasao said, handing her the receiver.
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