Chapter Thirty-One: A Newcomer Is Arriving

Thinking about the shortages in daily necessities that would come in the future, Han Li couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of melancholy. It was true that his dream was to be a carefree loafer, but what kind of life would that be if he couldn’t guarantee a basic quality of living?

What should he do? Was he supposed to frequent the black market just to improve his quality of life? That idea clashed with his determination to avoid any risks. So, what now? Han Li pondered over it the entire way, but still couldn’t come up with a solution. By the time they returned to Shanghe Village, to the site of his new house, he was no closer to an answer.

No, it could no longer be called a construction site. The beams and purlins were already in place. Villagers were mixing mud and laying down the final layer of straw for the roof—the main structure was essentially finished. According to old customs, the main beam had to be set in place before noon, accompanied by firecrackers. Though no one openly insisted on these traditions anymore, everyone respected the timing, and no one objected to the firecrackers. They had been brought over by the village head’s wife, but Han Li truly didn’t know much about these customs. He could barely recall the sound of firecrackers from his childhood before he came to this world.

The heated walls and kang beds inside the house were also complete. All that was left for these two courtyards were the main gate and the doors and windows. The carpenter had already taken the measurements and would have them installed in a day or two. Han Li had chosen glass for the windows, at an extra cost of two yuan. Glass was a rare commodity—impossible to get without connections—but the carpenter had the right contacts.

The village head’s wife and daughter-in-law, the brigade leader’s wife and daughter, and the accountant’s wife and daughter had all come to help, and were currently leveling the yard—every villager’s eye saw only work to be done.

They had come prepared with a large iron pot, a chopping block, a two-tiered steamer, and a kitchen knife. The temporary stove was set up, saving Han Li’s group a lot of trouble.

Han Li quickly stepped forward with polite greetings and handed out cigarettes, while Hao Hongmei and Yang Xiuying distributed candies to everyone. After the pleasantries, Han Li followed the accountant’s wife to her house to fetch eggplants, while Hao Hongmei accompanied the brigade leader’s wife to get soybean paste, which they’d need for the communal meal.

Meanwhile, everyone else busied themselves in the courtyard—kneading dough, slicing meat, chopping wood—no one stood idle. The whole yard was filled with laughter and cheerful chatter, along with bits of local gossip only they would know.

No matter the era, tales of romance and scandal always drew the most attention, spreading quickly and forcefully.

For instance: someone was seen sneaking off into the woods with someone else; a girl from a certain family was pregnant before marriage; a sales clerk at the commune’s supply and marketing cooperative had climbed into the director’s bed and ended up with her face scratched by his wife. Or, the young women in the neighboring village’s educated youth house always had men coming and going, with rumors that the local men liked to hang around there. Everyone then felt grateful that their own village had no such troublemakers; otherwise, they’d have surely been driven out.

“Yesterday, my old Zhao went to a meeting at the commune. They said a new group of educated youths will be assigned here in a few days,” announced the village head’s wife, instantly dampening the lively atmosphere.

All the women present were family members of village leaders, and they knew well enough that dealing with educated youth was no easy task. The village only had so much high-yield land and only so much grain each year. Every new mouth meant less grain for the villagers. When people couldn’t fill their bellies, their husbands would be the ones under fire.

The village had no right to refuse these assignments, and accepting them meant a host of problems to follow. Not every educated youth was like these three—well-off, unpretentious, and diligent in their work. In the end, it always made things harder for their men. They could only hope the new arrivals would be as decent as Han Li and his friends.

Han Li and his companions heard all of this, but he felt little concern. He’d soon be moving out—new arrivals wouldn’t trouble him. But for those who would remain in the educated youth house, things would be less pleasant. Besides the usual chores, there’d be inevitable friction between newcomers and the old hands. The biggest problem, however, was grain. There simply wasn’t enough to eat.

At first, the monthly ration of thirty-five pounds per person sounded generous, but reality was something else. A pound of cornmeal mixed with water and steamed yielded only a pound and a half or so of food. Any more water, and the cornbread would fall apart; make it into porridge, and it wouldn’t be filling at all.

In other words, each person could eat at most half a pound of grain per meal. In later years, few people could finish even that, but in these times, everyone was short on oil and fat and could eat a great deal. For heavy laborers, even a full pound of grain left you only half-satisfied. During the autumn harvest, people ate even more—otherwise, they simply couldn’t keep up.

It was clear that the rations from the village would never be enough; the educated youths had worked this out days ago. Their solution was to stuff wild greens into the cornbread, making vegetable buns—a common trick. If that still wasn’t enough, they’d try to get an advance on their grain from the village, but there was no guarantee of success.

Advances depended on the village’s stores and your work performance. Even if you were allowed more, you’d have to pay for it yourself. Otherwise, the villagers would complain and accuse the cadres of favoritism.

If you had no money, you went hungry. And if you lived together in the educated youth house, could you really stand by while someone else starved? These were times that preached unity, camaraderie, and self-sacrifice. Would you help out? And if you did, would you have enough left for yourself?

In the end, even if you were unwilling, even if it meant you might go hungry, you’d still lend a hand. If someone actually starved to death, those living together would be blamed first and have it recorded in their files—forget about returning to the city; life locally would become unbearable. Claiming ignorance would only make things worse.

But if you didn’t live together, such problems wouldn’t arise. You didn’t have to worry about whether others had enough to eat—no one would come rummaging through your grain sack to check. If anything happened, you just needed to keep your own grain secure. Don’t let softheartedness make you a scapegoat; you could always play dumb and get by.

All this idle gossip didn’t slow anyone’s hands. Slices of pork and chunks of eggplant simmered in a huge pot, while mixed-dough cornbread was shaped and placed in steamers. The wood fire under the iron pot gave off a comforting heat, and soon the courtyard was filled with the mouthwatering aroma of food.