Chapter 13: New Educated Youth, Old Educated Youth

The village was quiet, with few people about; there was no farm work at this time, and everyone was busy preparing for winter. When they reached the entrance to the village, the wagon came to a halt. Old Liu brusquely drove the young intellectuals off, luggage and all, with obvious impatience.

Mingdai shouldered her bundle and gazed at the village where she would spend the next five years of her life. It was large, most houses built of mud bricks, spaced apart rather than clustered, with vast courtyards enclosed by fences. Chimneys already puffed smoke into the cold air—it was mealtime.

The brigade leader looked with satisfaction upon the group of young intellectuals, now subdued and docile as quails. Indeed, a stern hand was needed to keep them in line. After taking a few puffs of his tobacco pipe and knocking it against his shoe, he said, “Come along, I’ll take you to the Young Intellectuals’ Center first.”

The Center was not within the village itself but outside, near the main road, with mountains rising behind it. It was not a favored location; few chose to build houses there. When the young intellectuals were sent here, the spot was selected for their lodging. Smoke rose from the Center as well; someone had started cooking.

It, too, was built of mud bricks, larger and with more rooms than the average household, and the courtyard was spacious. The leader knocked on the door; someone inside responded and opened it. Seeing the brigade leader and the unfamiliar faces behind him, she immediately understood—new young intellectuals had arrived.

She was clearly displeased, her gaze sweeping quickly over the group, noting four female intellectuals and frowning. Still, with the brigade leader present, she quickly masked her feelings and welcomed him inside.

“Comrade Song, are Fang Mingyang and Chen Erhong here?”

Song Lanlan nodded hurriedly. “Yes, they’re both warming themselves in the kitchen. I’ll fetch them.”

She crossed the courtyard in quick strides, disappearing into the smoky building. Soon, a man and a woman followed her out.

“Brigade leader, you’re here!”

The male intellectual looked about thirty, dark-skinned and thin. The female was much the same, her face marked by frostbite, dressed in thin layers, shivering as she spoke to the leader.

The brigade leader touched his pipe and smiled. “Comrades Fang and Chen, here are the new young intellectuals. I leave them in your care. You’re the big brother and big sister here—look after them well.”

The two nodded promptly, said a few kind words to the leader, and escorted him out.

Mingdai observed the scene, thinking that clearly, the intellectuals were not welcomed here.

Fang Rou dropped her gaze in disgust. If not for Luo Cheng, she would never have come.

At first, Liu Family Bay had been friendly to the intellectuals—they were, after all, city children.

But the earliest arrivals had behaved badly. One male intellectual secretly impregnated a local girl and refused to take responsibility. A female intellectual, dissatisfied with her assigned tasks, reported the brigade leader for corruption to the commune. Both were eventually sent for reform at a farm, and the reputation of the intellectuals was thoroughly ruined.

Since then, life had been hard for subsequent arrivals. There had been protests, but the more they resisted, the heavier their workload and the worse their situation. In the end, they had to keep their heads down.

There was, however, one exception. Yet none at the Center hoped for such exceptions, for this person was exceptional in ways that affected them all.

Once the brigade leader left, Fang Mingyang and Chen Erhong’s expressions darkened. Looking at the eight bewildered newcomers, Fang Mingyang sighed. “Come inside, it’s too cold.”

He led the way, Chen Erhong following, shivering. The rest glanced at each other and trailed after.

Entering the kitchen, the warmth and smoke made them feel alive again. A group poured in, and those already inside stood up quickly.

The first meeting between old and new intellectuals began. There were too many for everyone to sit, so Fang Mingyang addressed them standing.

“First, on behalf of the old intellectuals of Liu Family Bay, I welcome the fresh blood. Let’s have some applause.”

The old intellectuals kindly obliged him with enthusiastic clapping.

Fang Mingyang spoke with a smile. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Fang Mingyang, one of the earliest young intellectuals sent down to Liu Family Bay. I’ve been rooted here for eight years, and I’m currently the leader of the Center and the men’s team. If you have any problems, you can come to me—we’ll make progress together.”

The new arrivals applauded as well. Mingdai admired him; to have lived at the Center for eight years, he must be nearly thirty, unmarried in the countryside, likely still hoping to return to the city.

Fang Mingyang was pleased with their attitude, and continued, “There are currently eleven old intellectuals at the Center—eight men and three women. Some have married and moved out; I’ll introduce them later. Now, let’s have the old intellectuals introduce themselves, then the newcomers.”

He nodded to Chen Erhong.

Chen Erhong cleared her throat. “I’m Chen Erhong, the women’s leader. Female comrades can come to me if needed.”

Her words were brief; she seemed not one for much talk.

The remaining old intellectuals introduced themselves just as succinctly. Most were silent, expressionless, numb.

The three female intellectuals were easy to recognize. Aside from Chen Erhong, the one who had opened the door was Song Lanlan, whose eyes kept darting between the new male arrivals, finally settling on Qi Zhijun with a look of determined interest.

The other was Zhou Guiping, still cooking; Mingdai remembered her vividly for the lice that fell from her headscarf as she adjusted it.

Alarm bells rang in Mingdai’s mind—she absolutely did not want to share a room with her!

Among the men, apart from Fang Mingyang, there were seven others, all confirmed bachelors: Bai Yang, Liu Hongbing, Qu Gang, Zhang Xiang, Hou Wei, Zhou Weiguo, and Kan Jie.

Bai Yang and Zhang Xiang looked more delicate. Liu Hongbing was energetic, with relatives on the Revolutionary Committee and a penchant for loud slogans. Qu Gang and Zhou Weiguo were honest and friendly, the kindest among them. Hou Wei, like Song Lanlan, sized up the female newcomers, finally showing particular attention to Fang Rou. Kan Jie was aloof, not sociable, but dressed the best and was the most refined in appearance.

After the old intellectuals had introduced themselves, it was the newcomers’ turn.

They followed the old intellectuals’ style, with the most verbose being Zhang Xiaojun and Liu Yan.

Zhang Xiaojun conversed more with Fang Mingyang, while Liu Yan made a point of highlighting that she, Fang Rou, and Qi Zhijun were all from East City in the capital, and subtly disparaged Mingdai from West City.

Mingdai remained as wooden as ever, as if the words were not directed at her.

All in all, the meeting went smoothly.

The old intellectuals had finished cooking. Fang Mingyang glanced at the stove and said, “Normally, on your first day, we’d treat you to a meal, but things are different here from the city. All our food rations are earned through labor points. We intellectuals aren’t highly regarded in the team and earn few points, so we only have enough to feed ourselves—there’s no way to host you. But don’t worry; your rations are kept at the brigade office. Once you’ve chosen your beds, you can go collect your grain. We’ll finish eating soon, and you can use the stove.”

He scratched his head, speaking warmly, “This time, you can use our firewood and water for free. We’re all intellectuals, let’s look after each other.”

The implication was clear: in the future, don’t use their firewood and water.

The other old intellectuals obviously shared this sentiment.

Mingdai wasn’t concerned; as long as she didn’t have to eat Zhou Guiping’s cooking, she was relieved. Food with extra “ingredients” was not something she could stomach.

As for bed assignments, she was determined not to share a room with Zhou Guiping.

Fang Rou felt the same. She didn’t even bother to look at the beds, heading straight to the brigade office with Qi Zhijun.

Liu Yan wanted to follow, but hesitated over the bed issue, biting her lip and staying behind. There would be plenty of time ahead, no need to rush.