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◎The King of Scrolls, Day Thirty-Five◎
Political Commissar Wang didn't say much, just grinned and carried the box into the house.
Lin Xiaomei also came carrying a cloth bag containing several white steamed buns: "They're freshly steamed. You must not have eaten properly on the way, so have something to eat first."
Just as they were busy at work, another head peeked in from outside the courtyard gate. It was an old woman with gray hair, carrying a bamboo basket: "Newly moved in? I'm Sun Guiying from next door. You can just call me Aunt Sun."
She came in, put the bamboo basket on the table, inside were several palm-sized sea fish, silvery and still damp: "Just caught from the sea."
"Auntie, this is too expensive..." Shen Xinglian felt bad and tried to pay her off.
"Oh, what's money!" Aunt Sun waved her hand, her rough palms covered in cracks. "We're all military dependents, no need for formalities. My husband is really good at fixing things, so if anything's broken in your house—tables, chairs, benches, pots and pans—just ask him!"
Jiang Wanzhou looked at the people in the room and listened to their lively conversation, feeling a little apprehensive about the unfamiliar place.
The waves outside the window were still crashing against the rocks, and the wind was rustling through the coconut leaves.
Mingyuan woke up at this moment, rubbed his eyes and sat up, pointing at the coconut tree at the gate of the courtyard and shouting, "Mom, what's that? Can we eat it?"
Everyone in the room laughed. Zhao Xiulan teased him, "You can eat it! When it turns yellow, I'll have your aunt pick it for you. It's so sweet it'll stick to your teeth!"
Jiang Wanzhou looked into Mingyuan's bright eyes and smiled too.
evening.
Jiang Wanzhou squatted beside the hand pump, pressing down the handle with much more force than the well back home.
She filled the red bucket halfway with water.
Shen Xinglian was packing her things in the room, and the rustling sound of fabric rubbing together mixed with Mingyuan's whimpering voices drifted out.
Jiang Renzhou returned carrying a bundle of firewood, his army green trousers cuffs stained with bits of grass.
"Enough to burn for three days."
He leaned the firewood against the corner of the wall, his voice hoarse from training, "I'm going to collect my food rations tomorrow, so stay home and don't wander around."
"Brother, I'll go with you." Jiang Wanzhou wiped the water off her hands. "I'll familiarize myself with the way."
Shen Xinglian poked her head out of the house: "Let her go, it's not good for her to stay cooped up all the time."
the next day.
Jiang Wanzhou followed Jiang Renzhou in line to receive their food ration booklets, and overheard two women arguing in front of them.
"I said I wanted thin noodles, why did you give me coarse noodles?" The woman in the floral jacket slammed the cloth bag onto the counter.
The saleswoman, a local girl, rolled her eyes and said, "That's all the thin noodles we have. Take it or leave it."
"What kind of attitude is that?" The man in the floral jacket took half a step forward. "Do you believe I'll go talk to your director?"
Jiang Wanzhou quietly tugged at Jiang Renzhou's sleeve, and he subtly stepped in front of her to shield her.
When it was their turn, Jiang Renzhou handed over the letter of introduction, his voice steady: "Receive two ration books, one for Jiang Renzhou, one for Shen Xinglian, and one for Jiang Wanzhou."
The girl glanced at the letter of introduction and suddenly smiled: "Commander Jiang? Sister-in-law Zhao was talking about your new girl yesterday."
She pulled out a ration book from the drawer and stuffed in two more fine flour coupons. "Take these. The child needs to eat something fine since we just arrived on the island."
After leaving the supply and marketing cooperative, Jiang Wanzhou held the red stamp on the grain ration book, rubbing her fingertips against the rough surface of the paper: "Who was that just now?"
“It’s from the Liu family. The coarse grains will be given to my maternal family.” Jiang Renzhou walked back, his pace faster than when he came. “There are few people on the island, so gossip spreads quickly. I’d better avoid getting into conflicts with people.”
The sea breeze suddenly picked up.
Jiang Wanzhou saw Lin Xiaomei passing by with a net bag filled with shiny purple eggplants. Upon seeing them, she called out, "Wanzhou, Sister-in-law Zhao asked me to bring you some vegetables!"
"No need for that..."
"Here, take it. We grew it ourselves." Lin Xiaomei handed her the net bag, glancing behind Jiang Renzhou.
When they got home, Shen Xinglian was standing at the gate looking around. When she saw them, she came up to them and said, "Aunt Sun brought some seaweed, saying that it would be good to eat with rice."
Jiang Wanzhou put the eggplant into the kitchen and heard Shen Xinglian talking to Jiang Renzhou in a low voice.
Jiang Wanzhou squatted in the yard mending the net, the hemp thread winding into knot after knot between her fingers, like tying small ropes to the mesh of the net.
The old fishing net that Aunt Sun gave her had a hole in it, and the threads along the edges were frayed. She bit off the end of the thread with her teeth.
"This net needs to be repaired with new thread; the old thread won't last long after being soaked." Shen Xinglian came out of the house carrying a wooden basin containing Mingyuan's clothes.
"Sister Zhao said the tide is low today, so there's a lot of cargo." She tugged at the mended net; the knot was a little crooked, but it was still sturdy enough.
Shen Xinglian hung the clothes on the clothesline. The sea breeze, carrying moisture, rushed over, and the newly hung clothes fluttered loudly in the wind.
"Go early and come back early, don't get into arguments with anyone." She pinched her fingers on her cloth shirt, as if wringing out invisible water.
Mingyuan was holding a conch shell and walking around in the yard.
Jiang Wanzhou patted his head, rolled up the net, and slung it over his shoulder.
A crowd had already gathered on the beach. Zhao Xiulan squatted by the nearby rocks, tapping oyster shells with her small rake. When she saw Jiang Wanzhou coming, she waved and said, "There are many here!"
Jiang Wanzhou had just walked over when she heard someone scoff behind her.
Old Liu's wife stood not far away, kicking her bucket against a stone with a jarring sound. "Some people, they just arrived and already claim a good spot, they're so shameless."
Zhao Xiulan suddenly stood up: "Liu Guixiang, who are you talking about?"
"Whoever's right should be the one to talk." Liu Guixiang took two steps over, the razor clams in the bucket jumping in the water. "Is this reef yours? You think you can just occupy it?"
Jiang Wanzhou gripped the net tightly in her hand, her knuckles pressing against the hard edge of the mesh.
She tried to pull Zhao Xiulan away, but her arm was held down.
"When I was here gathering seafood, you were still nowhere to be found!" Zhao Xiulan's voice was louder than the waves. "If you're so capable, go talk to the team leader and see who should get this place!"
People around stopped what they were doing and watched from a distance.
"What's all the commotion about!" Lin Xiaomei ran over with a bucket and stood between the two of them. "It's no big deal, Sister Liu, move over there, the clams over there are fatter."
Liu Guixiang glared at Zhao Xiulan, picked up the bucket and walked away, her footsteps making a "crunch" sound on the sand.
Zhao Xiulan spat on the ground and started cracking oyster shells again, but with three times the force of before.
Jiang Wanzhou's palms were sweaty. She glanced at Grandma Sun, who had already stood up and was walking home, her figure shrinking into a small dot on the beach.
"Ignore her!" Zhao Xiulan put the oysters she had knocked off into Jiang Wanzhou's bucket. "Her husband doesn't get along with Political Commissar Wang, and he dislikes everyone because of her."
The edges of the oyster shells were very sharp. When Jiang Wanzhou picked them up, she got a small cut, and blood seeped out, spreading into a pale red mist in the seawater.
She suddenly lost interest, tossed the net over her shoulder, and said, "Sister-in-law Zhao, I'm going back now."
"Are you leaving already?" Zhao Xiulan looked up at her, her eyes dimming. "Let's pick some more. This little bit isn't enough to eat."
"My family is waiting for me." Jiang Wanzhou walked back, the net rope leaving a red mark on her shoulder.
As I approached the residential compound, I saw Grandma Sun standing under the old locust tree at the intersection. When she saw me coming, she hid behind the tree and concealed the basket in her hand behind her back.
Jiang Wanzhou pretended not to see it, but her steps slowed down by half a beat.
“Wanzhou, my dear,” Aunt Sun suddenly spoke, her voice hoarse as if blown by the sea breeze, “Don’t take Liu Guixiang to heart. Her husband didn’t get promoted to political commissar recently, and she’s been holding a grudge.”
Jiang Wanzhou was stunned for a moment, the bucket in her hand wobbled, and water splashed onto her shoes.
“Sister Zhao has it tough too,” Aunt Sun’s voice lowered, “Political Commissar Wang is rarely home, and she’s raising two children all by herself…”
When she got home, Shen Xinglian was sitting by the stove picking vegetables. Seeing her return, she asked, "Why are you here so early?"
"I'm a little tired." Jiang Wanzhou put the bucket on the ground, and the oysters in the water were blowing bubbles, as if they were whispering to each other.
Shen Xinglian added a piece of firewood to the stove, the firelight reflecting off her face: "Did you have a fight with someone?"
"No." Jiang Wanzhou squatted down to clean the oysters, her hands covered in mud and sand from the shells. "I just find it pretty boring."
When Jiang Renzhou returned in the evening, he saw the oyster stew with tofu on the table and suddenly said, "I've asked about the cafeteria. Go and try it tomorrow."
"I'm not going." Jiang Wanzhou ate her rice, the grains swirling in her mouth.
"I have to go." Jiang Renzhou put his chopsticks down on the table, making a clattering sound as his bowl hit the rim. "Always hanging around outside, he'll get into trouble sooner or later."
Shen Xinglian placed a piece of tofu into Jiang Renzhou's bowl: "We just arrived, let her catch her breath..."
"What's the rush?" Jiang Renzhou's voice hardened. "The island isn't like home; there's no one to bail you out here."
At night, Jiang Wanzhou lay on the kang (a heated brick bed) and quietly sat up.
She touched the herbal packet under her pillow. The scent of perilla mixed with the smell of the sea wafted in, and she suddenly remembered the nights at the Red Star Brigade, where the chirping of insects was much softer than the sound of the tide.
The next morning, just as Jiang Wanzhou had brought the nets into the woodshed, Zhao Xiulan arrived, carrying a piece of floral cloth.
"Make Mingyuan a little jacket; it's windy on the island, it'll keep him warm." She placed the fabric on the table, glancing at Jiang Wanzhou's face. "I heard you're going to work in the cafeteria?"
"Mmm." Jiang Wanzhou twisted the hem of her clothes with her fingers.
"That's good, the cafeteria is quiet." Zhao Xiulan traced patterns on the cloth with her fingers. "It's just that the head chef is stubborn, so you'll have to bear with him."
Jiang Wanzhou looked at the floral fabric; the small yellow flowers on the red background looked like a handful of stars.
On the way to the cafeteria, Jiang Wanzhou saw Lin Xiaomei squatting by the roadside picking vegetables.
"Wanzhou, do you like the fabric that Sister Zhao gave you?" Lin Xiaomei looked up and smiled, a little mud stuck in the lines at the corners of her eyes.
"It looks pretty good."
"That's all she's good for," Lin Xiaomei spat on the ground. "The other day, Aunt Sun's husband injured his hand and wanted to borrow some money, but she refused to lend it to him."
Jiang Wanzhou paused, as smoke was billowing from the cafeteria's chimney.
When the master chef saw her arrive, he pointed to the dough vat and said, "Knead fifty pounds of dough first, and test your strength."
Jiang Wanzhou washed her hands and put them into the flour vat, where flour covered her fingers.
She started kneading the dough, and she kneaded it for an unknown amount of time without the head chef telling her to stop.
Jiang Wanzhou's arms ached as if they were filled with lead, and the dough slowly became smooth under her hands, like an obedient lump of clay.
Unbeknownst to her, behind the kitchen door, the head chef was peering at her through the crack, his lips pressed into a straight line, as if weighing something.
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