“More or less. Auntie, don’t worry, just take them. Do you think my parents would be fools? They wouldn’t starve us kids just to give you things.
Really, we’re doing okay. It’s not that bad.”
“Alright, I’ll take them then. But I’m still paying for them—your dad must’ve spent something to get these.”
Wu Xiang didn’t refuse further. She pulled a yuan out of her pocket.
“Here, take it. Let’s not go back and forth—I’ve got things waiting at home.”
She shoved the money straight into Lin Xiaohe’s pocket, took her husband’s arm, and left.
After a couple of steps, she turned back.
“Give me that cleaver. I’ll have your uncle sharpen it—how are you supposed to chop anything with it in that state? Even cutting a potato would be a struggle.
When it’s done, I’ll have your Big Bear brother bring it back.”
With that, she left without looking back, pulling her husband along.
As soon as they got home, Lin Deshan brought out their whetstone and sat in a corner of the yard, working the blade.
Wu Xiang stored the potatoes in the cellar and sat down beside him.
“Look at this—with things as hard as they are, Yuexiu and her husband are still thinking of us. They really weren’t wrong when they said distant relatives aren’t as good as close neighbors.”
Good relationships were built over time.
She’d married into the village first—her son Big Bear was already running around by the time Yuexiu came.
From the very first meeting, she’d felt this was someone she could get along with. That’s how life worked—you help me out, I help you out, and the bond grows stronger.
“We’ll just keep it in mind. Who knew Third Brother had such solid connections on the black market? Even in times like these, people still remember him.
I used to think he just knew where the market was and had the guts to trade a few things. Now it looks like he’s actually made a name for himself there.”
Lin Cai: “…”
Well, you’re giving me too much credit. I really was just brave enough to take a few things to the black market.
Lin Deshan actually knew where the market was too, but he never dared to go—unless things got desperate, it just didn’t feel safe.
Back when they needed to trade for something, they’d usually ask Third Brother to take it to the market for them.
It was never anything fancy—just a bit of grain they’d saved from their own rations, or a couple of eggs pinched from the chickens’ share.
The black market paid a little more than the state purchasing station.
And you could trade for things you urgently needed—much more convenient than the purchasing station.
“Then Yuexiu’s family won’t have to worry about food. I’ve heard people say—even though our grain harvest was lousy this year, the black market’s still making a killing. They say business is booming over there.”
While the couple was talking, over at the ancestral hall, the husband and wife were chatting with their three kids.
Liu Yuexiu still didn’t know about her daughter’s heroic cleaver-throwing feat.
“Shameless, truly shameless. How dare she show up here? If I weren’t bedridden, I’d be grabbing a knife and chopping them myself.”
Liu Yuexiu gritted her teeth in fury.
“Mom, don’t get angry over people like that—you’ll only hurt yourself.
Your only job right now is to rest and get better. Once you’re well, our family can really start to thrive.”
Lin Xiaohe patted her mother’s good hand. “We’re living in the ancestral hall now, with no courtyard or anything.
Anyone can just walk right up and eavesdrop on us through the window.
From now on, we need to be careful what we say. Once you and Dad are better, we’ll build a house!”
Liu Yuexiu gave a wry smile. “It won’t be that fast. By the time we’re both better, we’ll have to scratch a living out of the soil for two or three years just to save up a little. Then we can ask the uncles and brothers in the village to help make adobe bricks, and the house will go up.”
“Why wait that long? We’ve got other ways now. Once Dad’s better, I’ll bring some things over from the other side, and he can resell them—we’ll have money in no time.
Then we can just say we borrowed the money and start building.”
The ancestral hall wasn’t really a proper place to stay—it was a shrine, after all. Moving in out of desperation was one thing; the villagers would just feel sorry for them. But if they hogged it for too long, people would start to grumble.
“Alright, whatever our girl says.” Lin Cai agreed without hesitation. This daughter of his had always had a mind of her own.
They’d planned to send her to school this year, but then all this happened.
He didn’t know if she’d be able to go next year. He thought his girl was clever—she had what it took to sit in an office with a steady government job someday.
But it all depended on the times. If next year was still a famine year, forget about school—even the school itself might collapse.
The brigade did have an elementary school, housed in an empty room at the brigade headquarters, with teachers drawn from the educated youth in the village.
There were only four educated youth in the brigade now. Going to the countryside was honorable, but it was also truly exhausting—so not many came.
“Xiaohe! I brought your cleaver back—left it at the door.” Lin Daxiong called out from the doorway, set the knife down, and left.
Lin Xiaohe went out and brought the cleaver back inside. The blade, which had been so dull it could barely chop anything, was now polished to a gleaming edge—clearly a pleasure to use.
She had to cook the meat they’d bought today right away. The weather was still warm enough that it’d spoil if left out—and that would be a waste.
It was only half a jin of meat—sliced up, it didn’t make much.
Lin Xiaohe cut up a few potatoes too, planning to stir-fry them together.
“Sis, I’ll tend the fire!” Xiaogu plopped down happily on her little stool. Meat! Real meat—it was going to be mouthwateringly fragrant!
“Alright, I’ve got rice cooking in the pot. You can stoke the fire a bit bigger. Oh, and go borrow a couple of dried chilies from Grandma Zhao’s place—we don’t have any at home.”
“Got it! I’ll be right back.”
They used to have dried chilies, hung right by the door—but after the house collapsed, they were gone.
Once the water in the pot came to a boil and cooked for a bit longer, she could scoop out the rice. She’d use a bamboo winnowing basket to hold the rice over a bowl to catch the liquid—that was the rice water, or congee broth.
After scrubbing the pot clean, it was time to stir-fry.
Before cooking, Lin Xiaohe rendered all the lard first.
Once it was done, she stored it in the small clay pot. From now on, that pot wouldn’t be used for cooking anything else.
“Sis, I’m back! Grandma Zhao not only gave me chilies—she also gave me two cloves of garlic.”
Grandma Zhao’s family was one of the better-off households in the village. She had two sons.
The eldest had made something of himself—he’d gotten a job at the county machinery factory.
He’d married a city woman, gotten an apartment, and settled down in town.
A few years ago, he’d pulled strings to get his younger brother a temp job at the same factory.
The second son hadn’t gotten housing yet—he slept in the factory dormitory, while his wife, child, and mother lived at home.
Whenever he missed his wife and kids, he’d come back for a night.
The Zhao family had plenty of earners but few mouths to feed. The eldest branch had a son and a daughter; the second branch had only a daughter.
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