The early winter wind, carrying flakes of snow, rustled against the mud walls of the Hongqi Production Brigade. The old locust tree by the courtyard gate was bare, its branches tipped with a thin layer of ice, like frozen silver hairpins, slanted against the leaden sky. On the tenth morning after Shen Tingzhou left, Lin Wanqiu was awakened by Shen Nianxi's babbling. The little one was wrapped in a thick quilt embroidered with a tiger, his little fists clenched around the corners of the quilt, his nose pink from the cold. When he saw Lin Wanqiu open her eyes, he immediately stretched out his arms to hug her, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth onto the quilt, leaving a small wet patch.
Lin Wanqiu tiptoed off the kang (a heated brick bed). The cold floor seeped into her feet through her cloth shoes, instantly sobering her up. She pulled her faded blue cotton-padded coat tighter, went to the stove, and retrieved the embers from the firebox. She added a few dried corncobs, and the tinderbox blazed up with a "whoosh." The orange flames licked the blackened bottom of the pot, gradually dispelling some of the chill in the kitchen. As she ladled water into the iron pot, she noticed a half-finger-thick layer of ice on the rim. When she bent down, the jade pendant at her waist gently pressed against it. Her fingertips traced the warm, smooth jade, and she felt a sense of peace. Shen Tingzhou had personally tied it to her before he left, saying that jade could calm the mind. But she knew that what truly reassured her was the space inside the jade pendant where grain, medicine, and modern farming tools were stored—her most reliable source of confidence in this era of scarcity.
"Mom, I'm here to add firewood." Shen Nian'an's voice came from the doorway. The little guy, wearing puffy cotton pants, shuffled to the stove in his slippers. His little hands, red from the cold, skillfully stuffed corncobs into the firebox. "Dad said we need to leave a vent when we start a fire, otherwise the smoke will choke Mom." He looked up, his eyelashes still covered with unwashed eye boogers, but his eyes showed a seriousness beyond his years.
Lin Wanqiu's nose tingled with emotion. She reached out and warmed her son's little hand with her breath, the warmth condensing into a white mist in the cold air. "Add it slowly, don't burn yourself." Looking at her son's sensible expression, she recalled the scene before Shen Tingzhou left, teaching Nian'an how to feed the chickens and keep accounts—at that time, Shen Tingzhou squatted by the chicken coop, teaching her son how to tell if a hen was about to lay an egg, the sunlight falling on the two of them, warm like a thin veil. Now that Shen Tingzhou was gone, Nian'an had truly become the little man of the family, even remembering to sift the corn kernels cleanly when adding feed for the chickens, afraid of getting any pebbles mixed in.
She turned and took two white steamed buns from the cupboard. These were taken from her spatial storage; she wouldn't eat them on ordinary days, but she wanted to supplement the children's nutrition. After putting the buns in the steamer, she scooped half a spoonful of white sugar from the earthenware pot, mixed it with warm water to make sweet water, and poured it into a baby bottle before walking to the kang (heated brick bed) and picking up Chen Nianxi. The little one immediately took the nipple into her mouth, nuzzled her head against her chest, and stared at the firelight in the kitchen with her round eyes, humming a tuneless melody.
Just as breakfast was set on the table, Sister Liu's voice came from the courtyard gate. A figure wrapped in a thick headscarf burst in through the wind and snow, the snowflakes on her eyebrows melting into water as soon as she entered: "Sister Wanqiu, Comrade Li from the supply and marketing cooperative sent someone to say that the fifty catties of rice paste ordered last time needs to be picked up today, and he also asked if we could send ten catties of our newly developed red date paste to try first."
Lin Wanqiu quickly ushered Sister Liu inside to warm herself by the fire, put Shen Nianxi in the cradle, and poured her a cup of hot water: "The jujube paste was just made yesterday and is sealed in a ceramic jar. I'll take it over with Brother Zhou later. By the way, Sister Liu, are the women's hands still stiff? If they're cold, light another coal stove so they don't get cold."
"No, no, the cotton gloves you made for us are really thick!" Aunt Liu rubbed her hands together and laughed, her gaze falling on Shen Nianxi. She couldn't help but reach out and tease the little one's cheek. "Xixi is getting prettier and prettier. Look at those big eyes, they're exactly like Tingzhou's." Then she looked at Shen Nian'an. "Nian'an helped my girl with arithmetic yesterday. She remembered the little ledger better than I could. She really takes after you, so smart!"
Shen Nian'an's ears turned red, and he whispered while picking at his steamed bun, "Li Xiaohua always gets the multiplication table wrong. I taught her to use small stones to arrange them, and she'll get it after two tries." Lin Wanqiu felt a warm glow in her heart as she looked at her son's shy expression. When Nian'an was first brought back by her, he was a shy and thin boy who didn't even dare to speak loudly. Now, however, he could take the initiative to tutor others. This change made her more gratified than anything else.
After breakfast, Shen Nian'an carried his faded schoolbag to school. Before leaving, he deliberately stuffed his little ledger into Lin Wanqiu's pocket: "Mom, this is the five cents I earned last week for helping Grandma Wang feed the chickens, and the two mao (0.2 yuan) for selling eggs. I've written it all down. I'll show it to Dad when he gets back." Lin Wanqiu nodded, watching her son's small figure disappear into the alleyway as he walked through the snow, before heading to the workshop with Brother Zhou.
The workshop was located in three tiled houses at the west end of the courtyard. As soon as the door was pushed open, a fragrance mixed with the aroma of rice, the sweetness of red dates, and the warmth of firewood wafted out. Several women were sifting rice flour around a large wooden table, the bamboo sieves in their hands making a "shush" sound as they shook them. When they saw Lin Wanqiu enter, they all greeted her with smiles: "Manager Lin is here!"
"How's everyone's work going?" Lin Wanqiu walked to the pile of raw materials, picked up a handful of millet and examined it carefully—the grains were plump and golden in color, the best quality that Brother Zhou had picked out at the commune's grain station in the early morning. She sniffed it closely; there wasn't a trace of mold, and she was relieved. "We're making baby food, so we can't be careless with the ingredients. Even a single bad grain has to be picked out, understand?"
"We know!" the women replied in unison, their hands working even more diligently. Lin Wanqiu watched their busy figures, feeling grateful—after Shen Tingzhou left, the workshop was entirely supported by Brother Zhou and Sister Liu. Brother Zhou was in charge of raw material procurement and transportation, going to the commune's grain station to queue up before dawn every day; Sister Liu led the women in making baby food, carefully overseeing every step from sifting the powder to steaming and cooking. If it weren't for their loyalty, the business would have fallen into chaos long ago.
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