The morning light had just spilled over the bluestone path of the neighboring county when it was shattered by hurried footsteps. Lin Wanqiu, holding Shen Nianxi wrapped in a light pink swaddle, had a thin layer of sweat on her forehead and stray hairs sticking to her cheeks, yet she dared not slow her pace. Shen Tingzhou walked beside her, carrying a cloth bag containing milk powder and cotton towels in one hand, and occasionally steadying the child in her arms with the other, his eyes warily scanning the roadside—this was not like the Red Flag Production Brigade, and the unfamiliar gazes from passersby in the alleys made him involuntarily tense.
"Just turn one more corner and you'll reach the workshop." The messenger walked quickly ahead, his voice still slightly breathless. "The commune people have been inside for almost an hour, saying they want to take all the pickles away for inspection. The workers are trying to stop them, and there's a stalemate."
Lin Wanqiu's heart felt like it was being gripped by an invisible hand. Nianxi in her arms seemed to sense her tension, nuzzling her little head against her chest and letting out a soft "ee-yah." She quickly lowered her head, gently pressing her cheek against her daughter's soft hair, her voice extremely gentle: "Xixi, be good, Mommy will be fine soon, don't be scared." Her fingertips unconsciously touched the jade pendant on her chest, the cool touch of the jade calming her chaotic thoughts slightly—the jade pendant's space not only contained modern testing tools to prove her innocence, but also enough supplies to deal with emergencies. As long as she could successfully enter the workshop, she was confident she could solve the problem.
Shen Tingzhou noticed her trembling and gently grasped her wrist. The warmth of his palm seeped through her coarse cloth, carrying a reassuring strength: "Don't panic, I'm here. I won't let them investigate randomly." He knew how much Lin Wanqiu cared about this workshop—from choosing the location and finding workers to preparing the pickle recipe, she was busy until late at night almost every day. She even used a temperature-controlled warehouse in her space to store the raw materials to ensure their freshness. Now, someone was maliciously reporting them, clearly trying to cut off their livelihood.
Turning the corner, the workshop's wooden door came into view. The wooden sign "Shen Family Pickles Workshop" hanging on the door frame was still swaying crookedly. Several commune cadres in blue overalls were standing at the door, holding paper and pen, seemingly taking notes. Several workers stood around, their faces full of anxiety, but they dared not step forward to stop them.
"Comrade Lin, you've finally arrived!" A master craftsman in charge of the workshop rushed to greet Lin Wanqiu, his voice filled with urgency. "They say there are 'prohibited substances' in our pickles and they're taking all our stock away. If they take it away, all our work for the past two weeks will be for nothing!"
Lin Wanqiu took a deep breath, picked up Nianxi, and stepped forward, trying to keep her voice steady: "Hello, comrade, I am Lin Wanqiu, the person in charge of this workshop. May I ask what exactly is wrong with our pickles? What evidence can prove that prohibited substances have been added?"
The leading commune cadre raised his eyelids, looked her up and down, his gaze lingering on the child in her arms. His tone was impatient: "You're Lin Wanqiu? Someone reported that you added industrial salt and coloring to your pickles, which is strictly prohibited by the state! We are going to shut down the workshop and take away all the products for inspection in accordance with the law. If you know what's good for you, don't interfere with our work."
"Industrial salt and pigments?" Lin Wanqiu sneered inwardly, but remained outwardly calm. "Comrade, all the raw materials in our workshop are purchased from regular supply and marketing cooperatives. The salt we use is edible salt allocated by the state, and we have never added any pigments—the color of our pickles is achieved by using soy sauce and caramel coloring. If you don't believe me, you can check the purchase records, or you can take samples for testing on the spot."
As she spoke, she gestured for Shen Tingzhou to fetch the purchase ledger. Shen Tingzhou immediately turned and went into the workshop, quickly returning with a thick ledger, which he handed to the commune cadre: "This is our purchase record for the past month. Every entry has the supply and marketing cooperative's stamp, which you can verify."
The commune cadre took the ledger, flipped through a few pages, and frowned slightly. A younger cadre next to him leaned over and whispered, "Director Li, this ledger looks fine, and their workers all say they've never seen any industrial salt before."
Director Li's face darkened; he clearly hadn't expected this outcome. He paused for a moment, then spoke again: "Even if the accounts are correct, it doesn't prove your pickles are safe! They must be taken away for testing; that's the regulation!"
“Inspection is fine, but we can’t take away all the stock,” Lin Wanqiu immediately retorted. “Our workshop has more than a dozen workers who depend on these pickles for their livelihood. If they’re all taken away, what will happen to their wages this month? Besides, inspection takes time. If it turns out that our pickles are fine, who will compensate us for our losses?”
As soon as she finished speaking, the surrounding workers chimed in, "That's right! We all make a living with our skills. We can't just shut down our workshop for no reason!" "If the inspection shows no problems, we have to get an explanation!"
Director Li was put on an awkward position, and his face turned even uglier. Just then, a woman in a floral dress suddenly stepped out from the crowd, pointed at Lin Wanqiu, and shouted, "I saw with my own eyes your workshop people adding white powder to the pickles. What else could it be but industrial salt? And that red pickle, the color is so bright, it must have had food coloring added!"
Lin Wanqiu looked in the direction of the voice and her heart skipped a beat—she recognized the woman; she was the owner of a pickle shop in a neighboring county. The woman had previously come to her workshop under the pretense of a visit, but it turned out she was there to cause trouble! Clearly, this report was her doing, and her goal was to bring down her competitor.
"You saw it with your own eyes?" Lin Wanqiu sneered, looking at her sharply. "When did you see it? In which workshop did you see it? Who was there at the time? The white powder you mentioned is actually MSG, which we use to enhance flavor. I had someone buy it from the city, and I have a proper invoice. As for the red pickles, they are made from red yeast rice. This is a recipe passed down from our ancestors. If you don't understand it, don't talk nonsense here!"
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