Chapter 32: Full Marks, Borrowing an Awl

Carrying her newly bought small stool, she arrived at the work site.

As soon as Zhou Sinian appeared, the whole place fell silent.

They chose their usual spot by the corn pile. Zhou Sinian, experienced as ever, got straight to work with the awl without needing Mingdai to demonstrate.

Mingdai joined in shelling corn, wearing a new pair of cotton gloves, which made the nearby aunts exclaim at her extravagance, while the young women and newlyweds looked on with envy.

Today, Aunt Huang’s family chose the corn pile right next to Mingdai and Zhou Sinian.

Amid the admiring looks from the others, Aunt Huang sidled over.

“Ming girl, you’re too kind, giving Tiedan four pieces of peach crisp—such a precious treat.”

Despite her slightly trembling voice and her posture ready to escape at any moment, this was already a bold step for her.

Mingdai looked up with a cheerful smile. “Aunt, you gave us so many vegetables and wild produce. This morning, I made chive turnovers—they were so delicious I thought my tongue would melt. I must ask you for tips, how do you grow them so well?”

This praise hit Aunt Huang right in the heart. She moved even closer, sharing her planting experience with Mingdai, and in the end promised to give her a batch of chive roots.

“When spring comes next year, plant them and you’ll soon have fresh chives. Let me tell you…”

She was in the middle of her explanation when she realized she was sitting directly in front of Zhou Sinian. The words stuck in her throat.

Luckily, Zhou Sinian was busy with his work and didn’t even look up. Only then did Aunt Huang relax.

Seeing how quickly Mingdai and Zhou Sinian worked, Aunt Huang didn’t say more, only reminding them to come by and dig up some soybean paste and pickled vegetables when they had time.

Here, you could do without many things in winter, but not without soybean paste and pickles.

Mingdai agreed with a smile.

When Aunt Huang returned to her place, a group quickly gathered around her. As they chatted, they kept glancing in Mingdai and Zhou Sinian’s direction.

The two paid no attention. Mingdai wanted to finish early so she could clean out the vegetable cellar at home and buy some more produce from the village. Otherwise, in the dead of winter, if she kept eating greens and Zhou Sinian wasn’t suspicious, he’d have to be mad.

Under the envy of the crowd, their pile of corn was soon finished—mostly thanks to Zhou Sinian. Mingdai hadn’t even gotten through a third.

The villagers watched with admiration, while the educated youths looked on with jealousy, especially the girls.

Among the older educated youths, Song Lanlan stared at the brand-new cotton gloves on Mingdai’s hands, nearly drooling with envy.

Cotton gloves were a luxury—even city girls didn’t want to use them for work but would unravel them to knit scarves. Now here was Mingdai, wearing them to shell corn—what a waste!

Liu Yan, on the other hand, was grinding her teeth with resentment. They were both from the capital, took the same train, so how could someone from the west side of the city be doing better than her from the east?

She worked at home, too, but had never done such rough labor—at most, she did laundry and cooking.

Yesterday, she shelled corn all morning and ended up with three blisters, then went crying to Chen Erhong to ask for leave.

Before Chen Erhong could respond, Song Lanlan had already scolded her.

“Oh my, you really do act like a capitalist’s young lady. Even Fang Rou got blisters, but she didn’t whine or ask for leave. Why are you so special? Still want to be the master oppressing us poor slaves?”

These words were harsh. If they weren’t in the simple village of Liujiawan, Liu Yan would have been dragged away for investigation.

Stunned, Liu Yan just held up her hand, not knowing how to reply.

Seeing things getting out of hand, Chen Erhong glared at Song Lanlan and frowned at Liu Yan. “Everyone goes through this. No leave. I’ll help you lance the blisters later. You’ll get used to it.”

Liu Yan could only agree, returning to work with her shriveled blisters, only to get four more that night.

At that moment, Fang Rou was also troubled. Her hands hurt too.

She’d forgotten to bring her work gloves, so she was shelling corn barehanded.

In her previous life, she’d arrived here two summers later, right at the start of the busy farming season.

The workload was heavier then. On her first day, she was so exhausted she cried by the fields.

No one pitied her; they just told her she’d get used to it.

But how could she? She didn’t belong here in the first place.

Luckily, Luo Cheng had helped her later, freeing her from the heavy labor.

In this life, she’d come early, hoping to lay the groundwork for meeting Luo Cheng, but had forgotten there was still work to do in winter in Liujiawan.

Looking at the shiny blisters on her palms, she realized she needed to bring up the idea of teaching at the commune’s primary school.

Beside her, Qi Zhijun was also grimacing as he shelled corn. As a pampered young master, his hands were softer than most girls’, so of course he’d gotten blisters too.

Still, seeing Fang Rou endure without complaint spurred him on. He was determined to match her dedication, work hard, and never shirk.

Fang Rou had no idea. If she did, she’d probably resent him more—she’d been through this before, and after his brief vows, she still had to do her own work. That useless young master couldn’t take care of her at all.

Soon enough, Mingdai and Zhou Sinian finished another pile of corn before noon.

After the team leader checked their work, a girl with a butterfly barrette and thick braids came over to ask their names.

When she learned Mingdai’s name, her eyes lit up and she became much more friendly.

This was Secretary Liu’s youngest daughter, the cherished Liu Miao.

Mingdai caught her gaze and winked, making Liu Miao laugh.

“Ahem, Mingdai and, uh, Zhou Sinian—full points, mark eight points,” she announced.

When she read Zhou Sinian’s name, Mingdai felt as if she’d uttered something unpleasant.

Finishing, Liu Miao turned to the last page of her little notebook and wrote an eight by each of their names.

Mingdai glanced down—yes, there was already an eight in front.

Looking up the list:

Liu Yan: 4;
Qi Zhijun: 6;
Fang Rou: 6;
Liu Daye: 6;
Zhang Xiaojun: 6;
Cai Mingcheng: 8;
Qin Fangfang: 8.

Satisfied, Mingdai smiled at Liu Miao, then gathered their stools while Zhou Sinian picked up four sacks of corn cobs and left.

“Ming Zhiqing, may I borrow your awl?”

Mingdai turned to see Fang Rou, looking exhausted—a rare sight without her usual haughty air.

Fang Rou hadn’t wanted to ask for help, but she was at her limit.

Her hands were meant for playing violin; now they were full of blisters from shelling corn.

At this rate, she wouldn’t even finish half of what she did yesterday.

Aunt Luo always admired capable, thrifty daughters-in-law. She couldn’t afford to leave a bad impression.

Others looked over, especially the older educated youths. Most of them didn’t have awls and wanted to see if Mingdai would lend hers to a newcomer over them.

Fang Rou noticed too, cursed under her breath, then fished a handful of candies from her pocket and handed them to Mingdai.

“Ming Zhiqing, after you use it in the mornings, lend it to me. I’ll give you a handful of candy each time.”

Mingdai looked at the six candies in her hand. The heroine was generous indeed!

She nodded and handed over the awl.

Fang Rou breathed a sigh of relief, smiled, and returned to her place.

The other educated youths looked away—after all, a handful of candy was not something any of them could afford.

Mingdai pocketed the candy and left with Zhou Sinian.

At home, Zhou Sinian dumped the corn cobs in the kitchen and neatly folded the sacks for tomorrow’s work.

“Do you want some?” Mingdai offered the candy to Zhou Sinian.

He glanced at it, shook his head, and went to his room, returning with a piece of egg cake, which he ate leaning against the door frame.

Mingdai smiled—she knew Zhou Sinian would never eat food from anyone else.