Braised chicken legs, stir-fried potato with sliced pork, and shepherd’s purse fish soup.
Three dishes laid out on the floor.
Lin Xiaohe swallowed hard. First, she filled a bowl of rice for her parents and served them some dishes.
“Mom, time to eat.”
“Hehe, there’s so much good stuff today—meat, chicken legs, and fish! I’ve never had such a feast in my whole life!”
Xiaogu chattered away, her eyes curving into little crescent moons that never straightened out.
Both parents only had one working hand each, so eating from a bowl was still difficult—the kids had to feed them. Sweet potatoes and potatoes were easier—they could hold them in one hand and eat on their own.
“Mom, I’ve been taking Xiaogu over to the other side these past couple days to sell wild greens, and we’ve made quite a bit of money.
I’ve used most of it to buy grain. We’ve got several dozen jin of rice at home now, and I’ll buy more each day—we won’t have to worry about food anymore.
The greens we pick still need to be sorted—some got crushed or have old leaves. I’ve been drying those in the back. They’re still edible, so let’s save them and not waste anything.”
The house was missing just about everything, so Lin Xiaohe could only spread the greens out on the floor to dry.
They’d have to wash them before eating anyway, so it didn’t matter.
“Aunt Xiang and Grandma Zhao also gave us some grain. Our life is getting better and better. You two just focus on getting healthy.
Once the whole family is back on our feet, things will be even better.”
While feeding them, Lin Xiaohe gave her parents a full rundown of everything that had happened over the past two days, keeping them in the loop.
Looking at their sensible daughter, the couple’s eyes reddened—both moved and proud.
“Good, good. Xiaohe, you’re the backbone of this family now.”
“You bet! Once you and Dad are better, you’ll both have to listen to me! I’m going to lead us to a good life—one that even the gods wouldn’t trade.”
Lin Xiaohe lifted her chin with a hint of pride. “And I’m going to go to school too—become the most educated person in the whole village.”
“Great—then you’ll have to work hard. I hear some of the educated youth even went to high school.”
“Then I’ll go to college!” Lin Xiaohe was full of confidence in herself.
“Fine, fine—college it is. Then I’ll be a college student’s mother. Walking down the road, my back will be as straight as a steel plate.”
“Exactly! And when I go out, I’ll be like—’I’m a college student’s father.’”
“And me, and me! I’ll be a college student’s little sister!”
Xiaogu wasn’t about to be left out and immediately chimed in.
She was her sister’s most loyal sidekick—Mom and Dad weren’t allowed to steal that title!
“Ahhhhh!” Xiaoman waved her little arms—whether she wanted to be a college student’s sister too or was just hungry, nobody could tell.
Either way, it sent the whole family into fits of laughter.
The atmosphere was warm and filled with endless laughter…
…
At the crack of dawn, no one in the village had chickens anymore, so there was no rooster crow to wake them.
Lin Xiaohe got up quietly, splashed cold water on her face, and shook herself awake.
She grabbed some rice and started cooking congee. They had work to do in the morning, so she made it thick and hearty.
She picked up her basket and headed out to trade for some pickled vegetables in the village. Congee needed a side of pickles to go with it.
Grandma Zhao’s pickled vegetables were always the best—and she was the only one who made them. Other families pickled big vats of sour cabbage or turnips.
In her basket, she had about a quarter packet of salt wrapped in newspaper, plus half a jin of rice.
At the Zhao household, everyone was already up except for Lin Xuanxuan.
When Granny Zhao spotted Xiaohe peeking around the doorway, she warmly waved her inside.
“Come in, come in! What are you doing standing out there? Have you had breakfast? There’s some cooking in the pot—have a bite here?”
The autumn harvest had been meager, and every household had received very little grain. But the Zhao family had some savings and the nerve to use them.
Early on, when they’d realized the harvest might fail, they’d taken money to the black market and traded for a good amount of grain.
Other families were afraid next year’s harvest would be just as bad, so hardly anyone dared to eat proper grain. They survived on wild greens and tree bark, hoarding whatever grain they had as a lifeline—if next year was another disaster, that grain would save their lives. By then, there’d be no tree bark or wild greens left to dig up.
Only the Zhao family still cooked cornmeal porridge in the mornings.
“No need, no need—we’ve got some cooking at home. Granny Zhao, I’d like to trade for some pickled vegetables.”
She took out the things from her basket.
“What are you saying, child? It’s just a bit of pickled vegetables—no need to trade anything for it. Just take it.”
Granny Zhao put on a stern face, pretending to be angry. “No bartering! Wait here—I’ll go get you some.”
These pickles were made last year—homegrown chilies ground into chili powder, and homegrown radishes sliced into shreds and dried.
The radish shreds were mixed with various seasonings and chili powder, then sealed in a jar.
They went perfectly with rice or congee.
There was another kind made from tofu—cut into small cubes, left to air in a cool, ventilated spot until a layer of white fuzz grew on them, then rolled in seasoned chili powder and stored in a jar.
Granny Zhao scooped out a bowl of each. “Is that enough? We didn’t plant radishes this year, but the tofu ones are easy enough to make more. If you run out, come get some more of the tofu kind.”
The ground was cracked open from the drought—nothing could grow. The little water left in the river wasn’t enough to irrigate their private plots either.
Everyone had to conserve water. Luckily, the village had two deep wells that could still draw water.
Otherwise, even drinking water would be a problem.
The sky still showed no sign of rain—it wouldn’t be long before even water became a serious issue.
“That’s plenty, thank you Granny Zhao. You have to take these—you put a lot of work into making these pickles.”
Just the salt alone must have cost a good amount.
“You know my dad has some connections. Our family’s already getting back on our feet. Grandma, don’t worry—just take it. I’m not the type to pretend things are fine when they’re not, right?”
Granny Zhao thought about it—and it was true!
Xiaohe wasn’t the kind to put on a brave face. If things were really bad at home, she’d just remember the favor and come back to repay it when things improved.
“Alright, I’ll take it then.” Granny Zhao nodded.
After she left, Lin Cheng, Lin Xuanxuan’s father, came rubbing his eyes from the east room. He’d heard everything.
“Ma, something doesn’t feel right to me. Brother Cai never mentioned going to the black market for more grain before.
How come after getting hurt, he can suddenly get good stuff from there? I’ve been going to the black market for grain all this time too, and I’ve never seen rice this good—so white and clean.”
“Means you don’t have the skills, and he does. What’s with all the questions? If some greenhorn like you could find those connections, it wouldn’t be called the black market.”
Granny Zhao rolled her eyes. “Go wash up and get ready. And get your daughter up too.”
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