The late spring morning light, like scattered gold dust, spilled across the mud-brick walls of the Hongqi Production Brigade, casting a warm glow on the slogans promoting the "Learn from Dazhai in Agriculture" campaign. An oxcart, having just delivered soy sauce from the county town, still sat by the threshing ground, its ruts stained with mud and the aroma of soy sauce gleaming softly in the morning sun. Lin Wanqiu stood under the old locust tree in the center of the threshing ground, her fingers clutching the thin order form from the supply and marketing cooperative, yet it felt heavier than a thousand pounds of grain—this piece of paper carried not only her family's livelihood but also the burning hope in the eyes of her fellow villagers.
Shen Tingzhou propped his bicycle aside and took the empty porcelain bottle from her arms. The warmth of his palm wafted through her coarse cloth clothes: "Don't stand there in the wind. You must be tired after coming back from the county town." He glanced at the villagers gathered around him, a gentle smile on his dark face. "Don't worry, everyone. Wanqiu has something to say to you all."
The crowd immediately fell silent, dozens of eyes fixed on Lin Wanqiu. Aunt Li's apron was still damp with flour dust, clearly she had rushed over from the stove; Aunt Wang held her sleepy-eyed grandson in her arms, clutching half a sweet potato; several young women stood in the back row, their sleeves rolled up high, their fingertips still bearing the yellow stains from picking soybeans. Looking at these familiar faces, Lin Wanqiu recalled how they had worked late into the night brewing soy sauce half a month ago, and her throat tightened slightly.
"Folks," she cleared her throat, her voice particularly clear in the morning breeze, "Director Wang of the county supply and marketing cooperative said that our Hongqi soy sauce is selling exceptionally well. Restaurants and canteens in the county are all coming to order, and the orders will only increase in the future."
As soon as she finished speaking, an uncontrollable gasp of surprise erupted from the crowd. Aunt Li excitedly grabbed the arm of the person next to her, her knuckles turning white; the young wives exchanged surprised glances, their lips curving upwards in uncontrollable smiles. After everyone's emotions had calmed down a bit, Lin Wanqiu continued: "Before, we were paid by the day for rushing to finish the work. Now that orders have stabilized, I want to officially open the soy sauce shop and hire the women from our brigade to work. We'll give them a fixed monthly wage, and if they do a lot, they can get bonuses."
A fixed wage? Aunt Wang suddenly looked up, startling the child in her arms. "Wanqiu, are you serious? We women can earn a decent living right here at our doorstep?"
Absolutely true. Lin Wanqiu took out the ledger she had prepared long ago from her cloth bag and unfolded it in the morning light. "Tingzhou and I have discussed it. The soy sauce workshop is divided into three groups: sorting beans, brewing and drying, and bottling. Each group will have a group leader. The monthly wages will be calculated according to the level: eighteen yuan for the group leader, fifteen yuan for a skilled worker, and twelve yuan for a novice. It's more profitable than working at the commune's brick kiln."
These words were like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, instantly creating ripples. Eighteen yuan was enough to support most of a family in an era when a few cents could buy an ice pop. Several women who had hesitated earlier immediately pushed forward, their eyes filled with eagerness. Looking at their enthusiastic expressions, Lin Wanqiu felt a surge of warmth in her heart—in her previous life struggling in the city, she had never experienced such complete trust from others. This kind of heartwarming expectation was more reassuring than any honor.
Shen Tingzhou added at the opportune moment: wages will be paid on time on the fifth of each month, without delay. In late autumn, everyone will also learn the authentic art of making soy sauce, so that even if they want to make some soy sauce at home, they can do it themselves. As he spoke, he took two earthenware jars from the back of his bicycle. These were an extra reward given by Director Wang yesterday—the first batch of soy sauce left over from brewing soy sauce—to be shared and tasted.
Aunt Li was the first to step forward and take the sauce. The moment she lifted the ceramic lid, the rich aroma of the sauce wafted out on the wind, causing everyone to gasp. She dipped her finger in and tasted it, her eyes immediately lighting up: "My goodness, this tastes even better than the sesame oil sold at the city's supply and marketing cooperative! Wanqiu, your cooking skills are absolutely amazing!"
That afternoon, the soy sauce workshop became bustling with activity. Thirty new earthenware vats had been added next to the original twenty, all ordered by Shen Tingzhou through the commune's supply and marketing cooperative. The dark blue vats gleamed warmly in the sunlight, standing neatly in rows on the west side of the threshing ground, like a troop of soldiers waiting for orders. Lin Wanqiu, dressed in a clean blue cloth jacket, was demonstrating to the women in the soybean-picking group: when picking soybeans, choose the plump ones, and discard the ones with wormholes or those that are shriveled, as this directly affects the aroma of the soy sauce.
Her nimble fingers rummaged through the pile of soybeans, the golden beans slipping through her fingers and making a crisp sound as they landed in the earthenware basin. Aunt Li was the most diligent learner; she didn't even bother to adjust her reading glasses as they slipped down to her nose, meticulously sorting the beans in her hands: "Wanqiu, don't worry, we'll definitely ensure the first step is done well, and we won't let a single bad bean ruin our reputation."
Aunt Wang from the fermentation and drying group was learning how to identify the type of koji (fermentation starter) from Lin Wanqiu. She carefully held the fermented koji, bringing it close to her nose to sniff: "Is this the right aroma?" Lin Wanqiu nodded, gently picking up a small amount of koji with her fingertips: "Look at the color, a deep, shiny brown, with a hint of alcohol. It's fermented perfectly. If it's over-fermented, it will taste bitter; if it's under-fermented, the aroma will be weak." Aunt Wang immediately pulled out a small notebook and wrote it down. Although she didn't know many words, she drew quite convincingly.
Shen Tingzhou was busy setting up drying racks nearby. He was tall and straight, and his muscles were taut in his overalls as he swung the axe, quickly splitting the thick logs into suitable lengths. Several young wives secretly glanced at him, their faces flushed, but they didn't slack off at all—everyone knew that Shen Tingzhou was Lin Wanqiu's husband and the backbone of the soy sauce shop, so this job was hard-won, and no one dared to be lazy.
Nian'an also became a little helper at the soy sauce shop. He wore new cloth shoes made by his mother and carried a small wooden box to collect the bad beans that had been picked out. The little guy squatted by the earthenware basin, his round eyes wide open, not letting even half a shriveled bean go unnoticed. Lin Wanqiu passed by and ruffled his hair: "Nian'an, are you tired? Go rest in the shade for a while." The child looked up, his face slightly red from the sun, revealing a smile with a missing front tooth: "Not tired! Mother says labor is the most glorious thing. I want to help Mother with the work, and when I earn money in the future, I'll buy Mother floral fabric."
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