When Zhang Lan walked out of the "Late Autumn Food Workshop," the midday sun was blazing, making the ground gleam white. The old locust tree at the village entrance drooped its branches, even the cicadas' chirping sounded languid. Only the occasional shouts of farmers from the distant field ridges made her steps seem particularly heavy. The two peach shortbreads she clutched in her hand were already cold, the oil paper wrinkled from sweat, just like her chaotic thoughts at that moment—both annoyed at her own lack of ambition and reluctant to give up that job that paid five cents a day and included meals.
She walked slowly along the ridge of the field, and as she passed Wang Erzhu's vegetable garden, she saw Wang Erzhu's wife picking cucumbers. The woman was wearing a newly made blue cloth jacket, and her face was smiling. When she saw Zhang Lan, she greeted her warmly: "Sister-in-law, are you back from the workshop? I heard you went to try out the job. How did it go? Can you stay?"
Zhang Lan paused, her face burning, and stammered for a long time, unable to speak. Seeing her like this, Wang Erzhu's wife guessed what was going on and quickly smoothed things over: "Hey, the workshop has strict rules, it's normal to not be used to it at first. My Erzhu said yesterday that Comrade Wanqiu taught him how to check the goods, even explaining in detail how to put on the labels. He's a very honest person. If you really want to work here, go and plead with her again, maybe you'll still have a chance."
These words stung Zhang Lan's heart like a thorn—it wasn't that she lacked opportunities, but that she herself was incompetent. She couldn't knead the dough properly, sifting sesame seeds resulted in pebbles falling through, and her red bean buns either leaked filling or collapsed. She couldn't even do the most basic tasks well; how could she possibly have the face to plead for help? She forced a smile and shook her head: "No, I'm clumsy; I can't do that delicate work. Don't delay their workshop." With that, she hurried away without waiting for the other person to speak again.
When she got home, Old Mrs. Shen was sitting in the yard sewing shoe soles. When she saw her return, her eyes lit up immediately, and she threw down her needle and thread to greet her: "How was it? How was it? Can you stay? I told you you could do it. There's no job that a daughter-in-law of the Shen family can't do!"
Zhang Lan slammed the peach shortbread she was holding onto the stone table and sat down irritably: "If I don't do a good job, they won't let me stay!"
Grandma Shen's smile froze instantly. She picked up the peach shortbread and examined it for a long time, her tone full of disbelief: "How come you can't do it well? It's just kneading dough and making pastries, isn't it? You cook a lot at home, so why can't you do it there? Is Lin Wanqiu deliberately making things difficult for you? I knew she had no good intentions and couldn't stand to see our Shen family doing well!"
"Mother! Don't talk nonsense!" Zhang Lan suddenly raised her voice, her grievances and frustration surging up all at once. "Their rules are clearly stated, it's just that I'm not good enough! Kneading the dough requires making a translucent membrane, and wrapping the filling requires perfect precision, and I didn't do either of those things! Widow Li can knead ten qualified dough balls in half a day, while I can't even knead one properly in a whole day, and I still have the nerve to blame others?"
Grandma Shen was taken aback by her outburst, then frowned and said, "What's so difficult about that? Just knead the dough vigorously, and it doesn't matter how much or how little filling you put in! Lin Wanqiu is just deliberately nitpicking! Have you forgotten how she was treated in our family before? Now that she's got some skills, she's starting to act all high and mighty! No, I have to go and talk to her. How can we let her bully the people of the Shen family like this!"
As she spoke, Old Mrs. Shen was about to get up and walk towards the workshop. Zhang Lan quickly grabbed her, tears welling up in her eyes: "Mother, don't go! You'll only embarrass yourself more! So many villagers are watching in the workshop. If you cause a scene, our family will never be able to hold our heads up in the village again! Besides, Wanqiu said that as long as I think things through and work hard, the workshop will still welcome me. If you cause a scene, there won't even be that much room for negotiation!"
Old Mrs. Shen was pulled down by her and sat down angrily, slapping her thigh and scolding: "You're too honest! You were intimidated by her words! That job that pays five cents a day, so many people would fight for it, and now it's gone, what a pity! How will we cover our expenses in the future? Nian'an eats good food at the workshop every day, while your Da Bao and Er Bao can hardly even have a piece of peach shortbread. How can you bear it?"
Mentioning her children made Zhang Lan's heart ache even more. She went into the inner room and saw her two children sitting around the stone table, carefully sharing two peach shortbreads. The older child handed the larger one to the younger one, while he held the smaller one, nibbling on it with tenderness in his eyes. Seeing his mother come in, the older child looked up, his mouth full of shortbread, and mumbled, "Mom, these peach shortbreads are so delicious, even sweeter than the ones we bought for New Year. Can you bring us more next time, Mom?"
Zhang Lan's nose tingled, and she went over to touch the child's head, forcing back her tears: "Yes, Mother will work hard in the future and buy you lots and lots of peach shortbread." But even she herself didn't believe this—the family relied on the few work points that Shen Laoda earned in the production team to make a living. After deducting food rations, there was no money left at all, so where would they get extra money to buy peach shortbread?
As evening fell, Old Shen returned from the fields. Hearing that Zhang Lan hadn't been kept at the workshop, he wasn't angry. He just sighed and said, "If she wasn't kept, she wasn't kept. The work at the workshop is very meticulous. You're used to being lazy at home, so you might not be able to adapt. From now on, work hard in the production team and try to earn more work points. You'll be able to make a living."
Looking at the exhaustion on her husband's dark face, Zhang Lan felt even worse. Shen Laoda did all the heavy work in the production team, collapsing into bed exhausted every day, yet his work points were barely enough to make ends meet. If she could work in the workshop, earning an extra fifteen yuan a month, the family would be much better off, and the children could have more decent meals. But now, all of that was gone.
At night, Zhang Lan tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. Moonlight streamed through the window, casting dappled shadows on the floor, and she could hear her husband and child's even breathing. She recalled the scenes she had witnessed in the workshop during the day: Widow Li's skillful kneading of dough, Old Zhao's focused gaze as he watched the oven, Wang Erzhu's nimble movements as he moved goods, and Lin Wanqiu's earnest expression as she meticulously checked the ledger. They were all working hard to make a living, while she, afraid of hardship yet eager to gain advantages, had ended up with nothing.
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