Chapter 4 Xiaoxiao, let's eat meat buns!
Zhao Fei hastily splashed some cold water on his face, pushed out his bicycle, and left the courtyard.
The morning air, cool with dew, slightly eased the suffocation in his heart.
The pig farm is located on the outskirts of the city, and you can smell that familiar yet strong mixed odor from afar.
The workers had already started mixing breakfast, and several sows awaiting delivery were pacing anxiously in their separate pens.
Zhao Fei parked his bicycle and went to check on the small feed truck that was lying haphazardly in the corner.
"Boss Zhao, you're here so early?" Old Wang, who was in charge of maintenance, came over with a cigarette in his mouth. "I had someone bring the parts over last night. They can be installed this morning, and after the test run, we can definitely go pick up the parts this afternoon."
Zhao Fei nodded: "Hurry up and get it done, don't delay things."
He got up again, walked to the pen of the sows waiting to give birth, looked at them carefully for a while, and instructed the workers in charge of taking care of them: "These sows will be due in the next few days. Be vigilant at night, make sure their food and water are clean, and put more dry straw in the pen."
"Don't worry, boss."
Next up are the pigs ready for market.
A truckload of fat pigs was being herded onto a food station truck, their grunts filling the air.
Zhao Fei held the notebook and checked the weights with the weighing workers one by one.
On the other side, Zhao Qingda was driving that bus, bumping along the dusty rural road.
Zhang, the ticket seller who was quick and efficient and had a sweet tongue, was poached by a rival bus company a couple of days ago with an extra five yuan in wages.
These past two days, he's been driving while simultaneously shouting for fares and collecting money, leaving him extremely busy and frustrated, with a burning anger simmering inside him.
The car stopped at an intersection, and a few more people got on.
The last person to come up was a woman in her thirties, wearing a trendy floral shirt, with slightly wavy hair, and carrying a worn canvas bag.
Unlike other passengers who rushed to find seats, she took the initiative to ask, "Sir, how much to the county town?"
"Two yuan and fifty cents!" Zhao Qingda said without turning his head.
The woman deftly pulled out her money, but instead of handing it over immediately, she raised her voice to the passengers behind her and said, "Hurry up and get on the bus and find seats, don't delay the driver! It's two yuan and fifty cents to the county town, have your change ready!"
Her shout spurred a few of the dawdling passengers to hurry up.
Zhao Qingda was somewhat surprised and glanced at her in the rearview mirror.
The woman collected the fares from everyone at once, tidied them up, walked to the driver's seat, and handed them over: "Sir, these are ten yuan for four people going to the county town. Please count them." Her voice was crisp and her movements were decisive.
Zhao Qingda took the money and casually asked, "Pretty efficient. Do you work in the city?"
"I used to work at the supply and marketing cooperative, but I don't have a stable job now." The woman smiled. "Sir, you seem quite busy driving and selling tickets. Why don't you hire a ticket seller?"
"Don't even mention it, I was just robbed." Zhao Qingda said irritably.
"Oh?" The woman's eyes darted around. "Do you need anyone else? How about me? I'm good at selling tickets."
Zhao Qingda then looked her over properly.
He has a decent appearance and seems like someone who can get things done. "You really dare to do it? This job is tiring, and you'll have to deal with all sorts of people."
"What's there to be afraid of?" The woman raised an eyebrow, her tone a bit sharp.
"My name is Wang Juan. As long as the money is fair, I guarantee it will be no worse than your previous one."
She paused, then said, half-jokingly and half-seriously, "Master, don't underestimate me. I, Wang Juan, am divorced and living on my own. I'm not that delicate. My ex-husband thought I was a coward, but I earn my own living. I'm tough!"
Divorce? Zhao Qingda's heart skipped a beat.
These days, divorced women are rare, and it's quite unusual for one to talk about it so openly.
“Okay,” he nodded. “Then you can try going with one of the trucks tomorrow. The pay… will be calculated daily, and we’ll talk about it if you do well.”
"Okay!" Wang Juan readily agreed and sat down near the door. For the rest of the journey, she indeed helped with getting on and off the bus, collecting fares, and announcing stops, making everything much more organized than when Zhao Qingda was working alone.
Looking at her in the rearview mirror, Zhao Qingda felt that this woman had an indescribable straightforwardness in her speech and actions.
Inside the courtyard house, the sun slowly climbed higher.
Wen Xiaoxiao remained lying on the kang (a heated brick bed), staring at the roof beams.
My face was still swollen and painful, and my heart was a desolate wasteland.
It was almost noon when the door was gently pushed open.
Li Yugu brought in a steaming bowl of tomato and egg noodles and placed it on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed). "Xiaoxiao, get up and eat something. Lying down for too long will make you feel empty and uncomfortable."
Wen Xiaoxiao didn't move or say anything.
Li Yugu sat down on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), sighed, and said in a much gentler voice than usual: "That brat Qingda, I scolded him this morning. He's a piece of trash, he doesn't know his place after drinking some cat piss, he speaks without thinking, and... he even hit him."
She paused, then took Wen Xiaoxiao's icy hand.
"Mom knows you're upset. Not having a child... this can't be rushed, and it's not just your problem. Although Mom longs for a grandson, I'm not senile. In the two years since you came into the family, you've been diligent, kind-hearted, and good to Yidi. I've seen it all."
Wen Xiaoxiao's tears silently slid down her temples.
"Men, sometimes they're just bastards." Li Yugu said, his voice lingering as if he were recalling something.
"When my dead old man was alive, he... he did hit me. Later, he got older and learned to care for me, but he passed away early... In this life, a woman has to grit her teeth and bear it, and she has to be clear-headed. Qingda isn't a bad person at heart, he just lacks discipline and is impulsive. Don't argue with him, it's not worth getting angry. Take care of your health first, okay?"
These heartfelt words contained little blame, but rather a sense of shared misfortune.
She remained silent, but slowly sat up.
Li Yugu pushed the bowl of noodles towards her: "Eat it while it's hot. Take your time with the rest."
Zhao Qingda returned in the evening, later than usual.
The scratches on his face were still visible, and his eyes darted around when he entered.
The kitchen was cold and deserted. He pursed his lips, then took matters into his own hands, scooped out flour, boiled water, and made a pot of dumpling soup. He also stir-fried a plate of wilted greens.
Once the meal was ready, he called out towards the main house, "Big brother, dinner's ready!"
Zhao Fei was inside looking at the accounts when he heard the noise. He came out, glanced at the simple meal, and then at Zhao Qingda's somewhat unnatural expression. He waved his hand and said, "You guys eat. I haven't finished going over the accounts yet. We'll talk about it later."
Zhao Qingda didn't try to persuade her further. He turned to the east wing and said in a low voice, "Xiaoxiao, time to eat."
There was no response.
Zhao Qingda waited a moment, his forced amiable expression crumbling, and raised his voice: "Wen Xiaoxiao! Eat! I'm giving you a way out, are you going to refuse?"
Still silence.
Zhao Qingda's anger flared up again. He slammed his chopsticks on the table and raised his voice, "Fine! You're asking for it! If you don't want to eat, fine! Don't come looking for me if you starve!"
After saying that, he angrily ladled out a large bowl of dumpling soup, slurped it down, threw down the bowl and chopsticks, didn't even wash the pot, wiped his mouth, turned around and left the yard, most likely to go find someone to play cards with again.
The sky gradually darkened.
Li Yugu led Zhao Yidi, who was covered in sweat from playing, back home. Seeing the mess in the kitchen and the deserted east wing, he shook his head, said nothing, and took Zhao Yidi to wash up.
The courtyard fell completely silent, with only the crickets chirping in the corner.
Wen Xiaoxiao had been lying in bed all day and was actually quite hungry; she only ate a few bites of the noodles she had for lunch.
My stomach felt terribly empty, but my heart felt completely full.
She listened until there was no more noise outside before slowly getting up and walking to the kitchen.
Looking at the unwashed pot, the greasy dishes, and the little bit of burnt dumpling soup left in the pot, tears welled up again without warning.
She turned on the tap and began to wash silently, the sound of water splashing mixed with her low sobs.
The door to the main house made a soft knock.
Zhao Fei came out, as if he was about to leave. As he passed the kitchen door, he saw Wen Xiaoxiao's trembling shoulders.
He said nothing, turned around and went back into the house.
Not long after, the courtyard gate creaked open, and Zhao Fei pushed his bicycle out.
About fifteen minutes later, he returned, carrying an oil paper package in his hand.
He walked to the kitchen window, looked at the figure inside through the screen, hesitated for a moment, and then whispered, "Xiaoxiao."
Wen Xiaoxiao's back stiffened, but she didn't turn around.
Zhao Fei slipped the oil paper package through the crack in the window and placed it on the windowsill inside.
"I just bought some meat buns, they're still warm. I... I can't finish them, so don't go hungry."
His voice was low, as if he dared not wait for a response. He turned and quickly went back to his room, closing the door gently behind him.
In the kitchen, Wen Xiaoxiao finally stopped what she was doing.
She turned around and looked at the paper package on the windowsill, which was emitting the aroma of hot food and oil.
She slowly walked over, picked up the warm paper package, and held it tightly to her chest, as if it were the only real warmth in this cold, long night.
Outside the window, inside Zhao Fei's room, the light stayed on until very late.
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