Chapter Twenty-Nine: Grinding the Mill

In the pitch-black darkness, a beam of light shone onto someone’s face, instantly provoking a flurry of shocked cries and exclamations. The entire settlement of educated youth was roused from sleep, and soon the glow of candles, oil lamps, and flashlights flickered to life throughout the place. After taking in the situation, people muttered under their breath and retreated back to their rooms to try to sleep once more.

No matter how well or poorly you slept that night, the morning demanded labor all the same. When the bell tolled, the compound resounded with collective groans of misery. The newly arrived youths soon discovered that, after a night’s rest, their bodies felt even worse than the day before. If yesterday was like having every bone broken, today was as if those bones had been ground to dust. The ache was so overwhelming that even getting up seemed an insurmountable task—they longed to lie in bed for three days and nights, even if it meant going without food.

But seeing the veteran youths already up and about, they had no choice but to grit their teeth, dress, and rise for the day. It was even more dismal in the women’s quarters; the new girls had all turned into pale, sorrowful figures. Silently weeping, they struggled to dress and get out of bed.

Jiang Xiaoli comforted them, “Just hold on a few more days. Once your bodies adapt, it’ll get easier. You have to rely on your own willpower. At least you didn’t arrive during autumn harvest; if you had, you’d be suffering a thousand times more. Back then, we had to head to the fields before dawn and wouldn’t return until it was too dark to see. In the morning, you’d pack your cornbread and pickles, and have lunch right in the fields. As soon as you finished eating, you went straight back to work. Cooking and eating dinner was all done in the dark. That was true hardship. So try to adapt now—otherwise, you’ll have no strength left to cry come harvest time.”

One way or another, a new day had begun. The newcomers followed everyone else out, blank-faced and numb. In the fields, they did what was expected—if their work was poor, the team leader scolded them, and if that wasn’t enough, the brigade leader followed up. After the day’s labor, pain was etched so deeply on their faces it looked permanent; they moved like the walking dead.

Hao Hongmei and Yang Xiuying fared a bit better. For one, they had learned to slack off strategically; for another, their nutrition was supplemented. They always carried water mixed with malted milk in their canteens.

Five days passed in this way. From the expressions of the new arrivals and the growing sounds of life in the compound, it was clear that everyone was beginning to adjust to the new rhythm. The exhaustion remained, but that soul-crushing sense of despair had faded.

After work one day, Han Li walked back to the settlement with Hao Hongmei and Yang Xiuying. “Tomorrow our house’s frame will be raised,” Han Li said. “By tradition, we should treat everyone who helped us to a meal. So I plan to take a day off, go into the county town, and buy some wine and meat. I’ll cook for everyone in the evening. Otherwise, the villagers might think us rude, and that would be bad for our reputation.”

Yang Xiuying quickly agreed, “Let’s all take a day off. I’d like a break too.”

Han Li’s secret storage had everything they needed, so there was no real need to buy anything. But it wouldn’t do to have things appear out of nowhere; people would get suspicious. As long as he made a trip to town, he could use some of his hidden supplies without raising eyebrows.

Not wanting to bring the others along but unable to openly refuse, Han Li compromised. “Let’s apply for leave together. When we get to town, we’ll split up to handle our own errands, then meet up and return right away. There’s still a lot to do that afternoon—we need to borrow big pots and cutting boards from villagers, and ask some people to help us make cornbread. Should we ask villagers to help, or people from the compound?”

Hao Hongmei said, “Since we’ll be moving out soon, it’s better to ask the villagers.”

Yang Xiuying added with a huff, “Yes, let’s ask the villagers, not the others here. You have no idea what we’ve endured these last few days. Because we’re building a house, we haven’t bought cabinets yet, so there’s nowhere to lock up our grain. The village gave us a sack of coarse corn grits, which we left untouched as a marker. We’ve just been trading with villagers for a bit of cornmeal or sorghum flour to eat, but that alone has drawn jealous looks from the others. Every time we cook, they make snide remarks. It’s driven me mad. Ask them for help? I’d rather give my food to the villagers.”

Hao Hongmei said, “Let’s not dwell on it. We’ll be gone in two days. What matters now is grinding our grain. Tomorrow, with more than a dozen people to feed, we can’t keep borrowing from others.”

Han Li nodded. “Let’s apply for leave first, then borrow a cart to haul our grain to the millstone.”

The three of them visited Village Chief Zhao again, explained their plans, and asked his wife and daughter-in-law to finish work early the next day to help with the cooking. With leave granted, they also visited Captain Liang and Secretary Zhang, repeating their request. The wives all agreed to help.

Finally, Han Li and his companions hauled a cart full of grain to the stone mill. There were five millstones of various sizes—some powered by livestock, some by hand. Han Li chose a clean hand mill, set down the grain, and prepared to work. Though they had seen villagers milling grain, it was their first time operating the stone mill themselves. There was no backing out; they encouraged each other and got started.

Han Li lifted the millstone cap, and Hao Hongmei and Yang Xiuying quickly cleaned out the inside. Then, using a wooden scoop, they poured the corn grits into the hopper. Han Li gripped the handle and began to turn the heavy stone; slowly, it started to rotate.

With each creak, yellow cornmeal began to trickle from the gap between the millstone and the base. Hao Hongmei and Yang Xiuying grabbed brushes, sweeping the stray meal into the grooves. Flour flew everywhere, but their faces shone with excitement. It was their first time working the stone mill, and more importantly, the first time they truly had grain of their own. The joy in their hearts was indescribable.

As Han Li’s movements became more practiced, the millstone spun faster. When he saw the others fumbling—nearly jamming the brushes into the stones—he gradually slowed his pace, careful not to let their enthusiasm cause any mishaps.