Chapter 75 Furious and Flustered, Song Lanlan Seizes the Opportunity

When Song Lanlan heard that Qi Zhijun wanted to buy her hot water, she immediately stopped making a fuss. She glanced outside, shooed away the crowd of curious young intellectuals, and, after a quick calculation, stretched out her hand, palm up, toward Qi Zhijun sitting on the kang, demanding brazenly, “One yuan! Give it to me right now, or I’ll report you for stealing hot water!”

One yuan? Qi Zhijun was furious—this shrew was taking advantage of the situation! Yet, unwilling to lose face, he reluctantly dug out a yuan from his inner pocket and tossed it to her.

Song Lanlan eyed the stack of bills he revealed, swallowed hard, and immediately regretted her earlier decision—had she given up on him too soon? He seemed quite well-off. Qi Zhijun, meanwhile, found her utterly repulsive, gritting his teeth as he spat, “Can you leave now?”

Song Lanlan quickly surveyed his room, lingering a moment on the radio. What’s the use of being rich if you still have to haul earth in the countryside? Feigning disdain, she snorted and turned to leave. Yet as she walked away, her waist twisted extravagantly, as if hoping to lure him back once more. Had Mingdai witnessed this, she would surely have applauded—how did Song Lanlan manage it? Even wrapped in bulky cotton pants and jacket, she could pull off such difficult moves; there was indeed some talent in her!

Song Lanlan sashayed back to the kitchen, grinning as she started to boil water again. In the female intellectuals’ room, Liu Yan finally breathed a sigh of relief—thank goodness Brother Jun hadn’t revealed her involvement, else Song Lanlan would have clawed her face to pieces! Brother Jun must really like her! His public rejection earlier must have been out of embarrassment, thanks to Mingdai’s blunt words!

Once the commotion died down, Liu Yan quietly slipped to Qi Zhijun’s room. She didn’t dare enter, but stood at the open doorway, peering inside. Qi Zhijun, still trembling with rage from Song Lanlan’s antics, sat on the kang with his bare feet dangling, the floor soaked in water, his feet red from the cold.

Liu Yan, intimidated by his expression, shrank back and timidly spoke, “Brother Jun, I’m sorry—I really didn’t know that was Song Lanlan’s water. I thought Qin Fangfang boiled it…”

Liu Yan was also frustrated—she’d only gone for the second pot of hot water after seeing the old intellectual take away the first batch. Who could have guessed Song Lanlan had boiled the second pot herself? Had she known, she’d never have dared touch it!

Qi Zhijun was now thoroughly exasperated with her, and snapped, “So all the hot water you gave me before was boiled by Comrade Qin?”

Liu Yan, caught, was at a loss for words, stammering without explanation.

Qi Zhijun, physically and mentally exhausted, veins bulging on his forehead, slipped his feet into his soaked cotton shoes, stood up, and walked to the door. “Comrade Liu, I need to sleep.” With that, he slammed the door in her face.

Liu Yan shuddered at the sound, staring at the tightly shut door, tears nearly falling.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Song Lanlan scooped out the last water from the barrel to boil again, leaving Qin Fangfang, who waited in line to boil water, utterly bewildered. She stared at the empty barrel, rubbed her aching shoulder, and wondered—where had the water gone again?

Luckily, Cai Mingcheng slipped in quietly and whispered, “I’ll fetch water. Watch the fire and don’t let it go out.” They didn’t even have matches—if the fire died, they’d have to borrow from the old intellectuals. Better to avoid trouble.

Qin Fangfang nodded eagerly, and together they boiled a large pot of water, sharing it with Zhang Xiaojun and Liu Daye.

Liu Yan, feeling guilty, didn’t even wash her feet, went straight to bed, only warming her icy feet in the middle of the night.

At last, the intellectuals’ base grew calm. Everyone lay on the warm kang, letting the aches creep over their bodies as they slowly drifted into sleep.

The next day, Mingdai slept in and woke close to ten o’clock. She went downstairs and, not seeing Zhou Sinian, walked to the small meadow behind the house. Sure enough, he was there.

The slender young man, dressed in a simple white shirt and black trousers, sat on the wooden railing, gazing tenderly at the foolish deer grazing in the distance, his smile gentle as a spring breeze. If one disregarded his Adam’s apple bobbing and the frequent swallowing, the scene would have been even more picturesque.

Mingdai approached. “Have you had breakfast?”

Zhou Sinian nodded. “I heated some lamb offal soup and had a rolled pancake.”

Up early and eating well—he never neglected himself. Mingdai glanced at the curious deer who’d run over to watch, then mused, “Let’s catch one and fry it for lunch!”

Zhou Sinian sprang up, darted toward the deer, and quickly seized his favorite. The deer, frightened stiff, was carried away from its herd, blinking its large, innocent eyes, still clueless about what had happened, while Zhou Sinian excitedly hung it on the rack.

Leaving him to his work, Mingdai returned to wash up and eat breakfast. Soon, Zhou Sinian came in carrying a basket brimming with butchered venison. She picked out two sturdy legs; the rest went into the warehouse for preservation.

She had Zhou Sinian debone the leg meat and slice it into strips, one finger wide and three fingers long. Checking the time, she left the meat soaking in running water and changed clothes with Zhou Sinian, then left the space.

Mingdai reflected that since arriving in the countryside, she hadn’t had a moment’s rest, always busy and never tending the barren land in her space. Now, apart from a small meadow and a grove outside the villa, nothing had been planted. She planned to use the next two months before the New Year to sow some vegetables.

She intended to ask Aunt Huang for some chive roots and seeds. Before heading out, Zhou Sinian put on his neatly folded red headscarf, tied a perfect bow in the mirror, checked both sides, and only then, satisfied, stepped out—leaving Mingdai waiting by the door, utterly speechless.

Outside, the snow had stopped. Every household had cleared paths to their doors.

Mingdai realized they hadn’t gotten up early to sweep snow. Looking at other rooftops, all cleaned, and seeing the intellectuals’ base had cleared the snow, she decided they’d also need to sweep their roof and path, fearing the tiled roof might collapse under the weight.

On the road, most children were playing in the snow, their faces red, running wild despite runny noses, unwilling to go home. When they saw the two approaching, especially Zhou Sinian with his iconic red headscarf, they immediately scattered.

Soon, they arrived at the team leader’s house, hearing her scolding from far away.

“You wasteful woman! Digging out so much lard! Are you trying to kill us? We can’t go on like this!”

“What? The girl Ming said you need more oil for it to taste good?”

“All right, just this once. Next time you dig out so much, I’ll twist your ears off!”

Mingdai hadn’t expected to hear gossip about herself and felt a bit helpless.

She knocked on the wooden door. “Auntie, it’s Mingdai. I’m here to visit.”

Before Aunt Huang could answer from the kitchen, lively footsteps and excited shouts approached.

“Aunt Ming is here! Aunt Ming is here!”

Then came the sound of the latch being pulled, and the wooden door opened. Dog-Egg’s red face appeared, eyes gleaming, with Iron-Egg behind him, smiling shyly at Mingdai.

Before Mingdai could speak, Zhou Sinian slipped past her, pushing Dog-Egg aside and heading toward the stable. Dog-Egg covered his mouth in silence, Iron-Egg shrank his neck, casting a sympathetic glance at his uncle feeding the horses.

Liu Laifa was chopping up dried autumn grass to feed the horses when he turned and saw the “madman” staring at him and his basket without blinking. Frozen by the gaze, he dared not move, the two locked in a silent standoff.

Mingdai patted Dog-Egg’s sheepskin cap, gave each boy a fruit candy. “Here, eat.”

“Candy!” Dog-Egg exclaimed, eagerly unwrapping and popping it into his mouth.

Iron-Egg grinned, thanked her, and the two told Aunt Huang they were going out to play, disappearing in a flash.

Aunt Huang greeted her cheerfully, “Ming girl, come, sit on the kang—it’s warm!”

Mingdai waved her off, “No need, Auntie. I came to ask if you could spare some chive roots—I remember you said you kept some.”

Aunt Huang nodded with a smile, “Yes, yes, they’re all in the cellar. You want them now? They grow better in spring.”

Mingdai nodded, “I want to try growing them in winter, Auntie. My father used to grow vegetables indoors in winter.”

Aunt Huang was surprised, “You can grow them in winter?”