Song Wei’s comments landed solidly, each word piercing like a nail. Yet her tone and expression remained completely sincere, her demeanor genuine.
The old woman, thoroughly humiliated, stormed off, leaving even her granddaughter behind.
“Ha! Song Zhiqing, you’ve got quite a way with words,” someone remarked with a laugh.
The crowd chuckled in agreement, grateful the sharp tongue hadn’t been directed at them.
Li Juan, Liu Linlin, and the other female Zhiqing gazed at Song Wei with open admiration.
“If it were me, I’d never have thought of such a quick comeback. That wit of hers—where does she get it?”
Meanwhile, the old woman’s granddaughter hesitated, glancing in the direction her grandmother had gone. She was about to leave when Song Wei called out to her.
Song Wei handed her the candy.
“Eat it here. Don’t take it back.”
The little girl, her face thin and dark from malnutrition, hesitated.
“Thank you, Sister Song,” she said politely, holding the candy but not eating it.
She had been taught all her life to give everything to the boys in the family, especially food. Though she wanted to eat it, fear kept her from daring to do so.
Song Wei noticed and crouched down to her level.
“Tell me something,” she asked gently. “If you give this candy to your little brother, will he thank you? Will he think you’re a good sister? Will he stand up for you when you’re in trouble?”
The little girl froze.
Even though she was young, Song Wei’s words hit hard, like tiny daggers piercing her heart. She felt as though something icy was filling the cracks.
The girl didn’t answer, but her silence was answer enough.
Song Wei shrugged lightly. “See? If you eat the candy, at least you’ll feel happy now. But if you give it away, not only will you lose that happiness, but you’ll likely still be blamed for something later. Why choose double unhappiness when you could just enjoy the candy?”
The little girl nodded, finally convinced. Carefully, she unwrapped the candy and began to lick it.
The sweet taste lit up her face, her eyes shining with delight.
Sister Song was right—eating the candy now was worth it, even if she got punished when she got home.
Besides, she reasoned, her grandmother would probably find an excuse to scold her anyway, whether she ate it or not.
The candy might have been the highlight of her day, but then Song Wei finished rendering the lard and fished out the crispy, golden lard residue.
She scooped some into a small bowl and handed it out to the children.
The kids were ecstatic.
In the countryside, where clean faces were rare and sun-darkened skin common, the children swarmed around Song Wei, shouting “Sister! Sister!” at the top of their lungs, as if competing to see who could call her the loudest.
Song Wei sighed internally. “I do like kids, but this many at once? Terrifying.”
“Line up!” she instructed firmly. “Everyone will get the same amount. Once you’ve got yours, leave.”
With her clear directions, the kids quickly formed a line, their eyes glued to the bowl in Song Wei’s hands.
Outside the educated youth residence, the aroma of the lard residue drew murmurs from onlookers.
“Song Zhiqing is so generous!”
“Giving away lard residue like that! Just the smell is making my mouth water.”
While most adults kept their dignity and didn’t ask for any, their expressions betrayed their longing.
“I can’t believe it—my wild little rascal actually listened to her! These Zhiqing know how to handle kids.”
“Come on now,” someone joked, “if I had something this tasty, even the wildest kid would behave.”
“I remember her handing out candied hawthorn skewers and those pretty sugar paintings before. She’s always doing nice things for the village kids.”
Of course, not everyone approved.
“She’s just wastefully generous,” someone sniffed. “What happens when she gets married? No household can afford a wife like her.”
“She’s spending her own money,” someone else retorted. “Why does it matter to you?”
“Once she marries, what’s hers becomes her in-laws’ anyway. They’ll feel it.”
“Ha! Speak for yourself. Only greedy in-laws like yours would try to take their daughter-in-law’s things.”
This sparked a lively debate, though it didn’t escalate into anything serious.
Back inside, the children eagerly devoured their lard residue. Some gobbled them down in one bite, while others nibbled slowly to make them last.
Heidan, proud and smug, held the biggest portion.
“My Sister Song gave me the most!” he boasted, sharing with his closest friends, like Shuanzi, earning their envy and admiration.
Even so, he saved some for the brigade leader’s children, Fuwa and her brother, planning to give it to them tomorrow.
As the evening wore on, the kids, clutching their treats, happily rejoined their families, whose parents offered Song Wei warm smiles of gratitude.
Not everyone shared their gratitude.
“What are you doing?” Liu Linlin snapped, slapping away Xu Laidi’s hand as she reached for the lard residue.
Xu Laidi crossed her arms, indignant. “She’s already handed out so much—what’s wrong with giving me a little? I’m a Zhiqing too, you know! Why are you all siding with these peasants instead of helping one of your own?”
Song Wei rolled her eyes. “With that attitude? No chance.”
Xu Laidi wasn’t afraid of Liu Linlin and tried to grab some again. This time, she didn’t notice Song Wei approaching.
Song Wei blew on her hands as if warming them, then slapped Xu Laidi hard across the face.
The force knocked Xu Laidi to the ground, where she sat for a moment in stunned silence before bursting into exaggerated sobs, flailing her legs and arms like a tantrum-throwing child.
“You always hit my face! I can’t live like this anymore!” she wailed, her voice rising.
Song Wei crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.
“Find a brick and end it, then. With a face that thick, I doubt a few slaps made much of a dent.”
“You’re all ganging up on me! I’ll report you to the Women’s Federation!” Xu Laidi threatened.
“Go ahead,” Liu Linlin shot back. “We’ll gladly tell them about all the things you’ve done. See whose side they take.”
With that, the group resumed their work, storing the lard and leftover lard residue in Song Wei’s room.
Later that night, after cleaning the pig offal thoroughly with ash and ginger, Song Wei returned to her room to prepare for bed.
She paused while locking the door, her fingers brushing over faint scratches around the lock.
She leaned in, inspecting them under the oil lamp.
“What’s wrong, Sister Song?”
Heidan, freshly washed and smelling clean, toddled over.
Song Wei pointed at the lock.
“Look at these scratches. Someone tried to break into our room today.”
Her tone was calm, but her expression was grim.
Heidan gasped, his eyes wide with alarm.
“Someone wanted to steal from us?!”
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