Chapter 642
In the evening, they went to buy some snacks and piled some food they brought with them on the table.
The persimmon cakes that Meng Linlin brought were covered with white frost, the Poria cocos pancakes had a white crust with an amber filling, and the preserved fruits in the glass jars glowed with a honey-colored luster under the dim light.
Wang Yingtong took out an iron box from the bottom of her luggage:
"I brought some Wuyishan rock tea, which was given to me by a relative during the Chinese New Year. It won't be dry when I brew it and have it with snacks."
The iron box makes a light "click" sound when it is opened. The Wuyi Mountain rock tea leaves are tight and dark. When boiling water is poured into the enamel teacup, the natural floral and fruity aroma instantly fills the table.
He Rong laid out several exquisite paper boxes and said, "I brought pine nut candy from Caizhizhai, and some snacks."
Guo Xiaojie was so surprised: "You all have high-end goods, but I only brought local specialties..."
"How could that be? You brought good things, but my sesame cake looks shabby." Su Miao said.
"Oh! What's the point of talking about whether it's shabby or not? They are all things from my own home, and the intention is the same. Let's not make a fuss about that. Let's talk about what we did during the winter vacation." Wang Yingtong said while making tea.
Wang Yingtong held the enamel teacup with her slender fingers, and the aroma of hot rock tea rose with the steam.
The lights in the dormitory were dim. Five girls sat around the desk, turning on a desk lamp to illuminate the table full of various foods.
Guo Xiaojie grabbed a handful of pumpkin seeds and spoke impatiently:
"My winter vacation was wonderful! On the 25th day of the 12th lunar month, my family slaughtered the New Year pig and invited all the relatives to enjoy the pig-killing dishes. After that, other relatives slaughtered their own pigs, and we ate them one by one. I became fat..."
She vividly described the lively scene of slaughtering the pig, how to collect the pig's blood, scald the pig's hair, and how her mother stewed a pot full of meat in a big iron pot.
She was so excited that she even stood up and imitated the butcher's knife swinging motion, almost knocking over the tea that Wang Yingtong had just brewed.
"Be careful!" Wang Yingtong protected the teacup and scolded, "My tea is a rare treasure. Half a pound costs more than 80 yuan!"
"Over eighty?! That's enough for my family to buy two piglets!" Guo Xiaojie's eyes widened.
He Rong covered her mouth and chuckled, then picked up a piece of preserved fruit and tasted it carefully:
"During the Chinese New Year this year, my home was deserted and my parents were not home, so I went to spend the New Year with my aunt.
She's a doctor and had to go to the county town for half a year this year. She was all alone, so we just happened to be together. It was her turn to be on duty on New Year's Eve, so I stayed with her in the hospital."
"Can I still go to the hospital to accompany him?" Guo Xiaojie asked in surprise.
"Of course, the hospital won't say anything during Chinese New Year. There were quite a few patients that night. What impressed me most was a barefoot doctor who walked over 20 miles along a mountain road to bring a pregnant woman with a difficult labor to the hospital."
The story she told brought peace to the dormitory, telling how the barefoot doctor made a simple stretcher out of bamboo poles and bed sheets, and how he trudged for several hours in the cold night to finally keep the mother and child safe.
When she spoke of the touching parts, He Rong's eyes turned slightly red.
"That's amazing." Meng Linlin said softly, handing her a handkerchief embroidered with plum blossoms.
Wang Yingtong poured half a cup of rock tea for each person. The tea soup was golden and translucent.
"If you want to talk about the biggest changes, Shanghai has to be it. A few years ago, my parents and I went to visit my aunt, and there were several new foreign-funded restaurants there. You had to dress nicely to get in."
She described the neon lights on Nanjing Road, the jazz music at the Peace Hotel, and the first "cream cake" she ate.
"It's such a small piece, and it costs five dollars! But it's really delicious, melts in your mouth..."
"Five yuan?!" Guo Xiaojie exclaimed again, "That's enough for me to eat in the cafeteria for a week!"
"You, all you know is to calculate the meal money."
Meng Linlin smiled and poked Guo Xiaojie's forehead, then took out a beautifully bound notebook from her bag:
"I attended a youth literature salon and met the famous writer Zhang Zhicheng... Oh, come to think of it, he's Miaomiao and Rongrong's senior."
She opened the notebook and found a black and white photo inside: a group of young people sitting around a man, listening to something attentively.
In the photo, Meng Linlin is wearing a simple Chinese cotton-padded jacket and has an exquisite hairstyle, making her stand out among the blue and gray people.
"We discussed the relationship between avant-garde literature and realism. Teacher Zhang said that literature should be rooted in the land..."
Meng Linlin's voice was soft and firm, and her eyes were shining with ideals.
Su Miao snuggled in her quilt and thought quietly, rooted in the land? Then her novels were rooted in the land too, firmly rooted.
"Miaomiao, what about you?" He Rong suddenly asked, "Did you have any special experiences during your winter vacation?"
Everyone's eyes turned to Su Miao.
She hesitated for a moment and told the story of the agricultural supply store selling substandard fertilizers. Of course, she omitted the details of the Pan family's help and only said that the relevant departments had intervened in the investigation.
Guo Xiaojie slammed the table and stood up, causing a few drops of tea to spill out of the cup. "How despicable! These unscrupulous businessmen should be arrested and shot!"
Wang Yingtong pondered, "In the early stages of a market economy, it's inevitable that there will be a mix of good and bad. My father said there have been quite a few cases of counterfeiting in the south, and supervision will gradually be strengthened in the future."
Meng Linlin gently held Su Miao's hand. "Life is so difficult for farmers. Teacher Zhang said that literature should speak for these ordinary people..."
It was late at night. Tea had already been refilled three times, and most of the snacks had been consumed. Outside the window, the campus was hushed, save for the occasional meow of a cat. Five girls huddled together on two lower bunks, covered by a single blanket, continuing their nightly conversation.
The topic shifted from social news to campus gossip and then to plans for the new semester.
Wang Yingtong suddenly remembered something, went back to her bed, and took out a newspaper from her schoolbag.
"Look, the Asian Games will be held in Beijing in September, and we're recruiting young volunteers right now!"
The corners of the Youth Daily she unfolded still smelled of ink. At the bottom of the front page were printed the words "Recruitment Notice for Volunteers for the 11th Asian Games", with a picture of the mascot panda "Panpan" next to it.
Several heads immediately came forward, and Guo Xiaojie's eyes widened as she said:
"Youth volunteers? Then we can sign up too."
Wang Yingtong excitedly pointed to the registration requirements: "Of course! Anyone who is over 18 years old, in good health, and speaks standard Mandarin can sign up, but there will still be a screening process.
Newspapers are now urging us college students to actively participate! This is not only a contribution to the country, but also a rare social practice experience!
After she finished speaking, the dormitory instantly fell silent. Su Miao silently raised her hand: "I... I'm not yet 18."
Guo Xiaojie also looked frustrated: "Me too."
"Um...it doesn't matter. What if there aren't enough people who sign up...maybe the age requirement will be lowered!" Meng Linlin comforted.
The rock tea in the teapot had long gone cold, the pumpkin seed shells had piled up into a small hill, and there was still half a piece of pine nut candy left in the empty box of Caizhizhai.
The five girls were squeezed into the two lower bunks, their feet touching each other under the blankets.
That is their youth, which will unfold in 1990, with the fragrance of tea and dreams.
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