RBI1960 Chapter 24

Time passed slowly as the donkey cart rocked along the road. Inside the cart, thick quilts had been laid down, and after days of emotional turmoil, the group finally relaxed enough to fall into a deep sleep. When they were woken up by Jiang Dahai, they still looked groggy and disoriented, unsure of where they were.

Huo Wu was the first to regain full awareness. He mentally scolded himself for letting his guard down, then turned his attention to little Ruan Ruan.

The four-year-old girl was fast asleep. Even Jiang Dahai’s voice hadn’t stirred her. Her small head rested against the boy beside her, her cheek smushed flat, mouth slightly open, with a suspicious glint of drool at the corner of her lips.

That would have been unthinkable in the past. Having lost her parents at a very young age, Ruan Ruan had always been a quiet and sensitive child. Back then, both Huo Wu and Old Ruan were too busy with outside affairs and didn’t know how to raise a little girl. So they entrusted her care to the wives of Ruan Lao’er and Ruan Lao-san and even hired a nanny to help out.

At the time, the entire Ruan family lived together in their old family home in Haicheng. All the children played together, and Ruan Ruan was always the best-dressed and best-fed among them. No one ever questioned anything—those women had hidden things too well. For years, neither Huo Wu nor Old Ruan realized what kind of life Ruan Ruan had been living.

Unfortunately, by the time they found out, it was too late. Huo Wu closed his eyes, refusing to think about the murderous rage he’d felt when he discovered the truth.

Since then, Ruan Ruan had become even more timid. She never slept well, startled awake by the slightest sound. They had tried everything—doctors, remedies—but nothing worked. Emotional wounds required emotional healing. After that incident, neither Huo Wu nor Old Ruan felt safe leaving her in anyone else’s care, so they kept her close at all times.

Now that they were far from those people, Ruan Ruan’s condition had improved slightly. But the trauma had left a mark—she had become unusually well-behaved for her age, never crying or making a fuss, always afraid of upsetting them. It pained both Huo Wu and Old Ruan to see it.

Huo Wu clenched his fists. He remembered the promise he made to Ruan Ruan’s father before he died: that he would protect her for the rest of his life and never let anyone hurt her again. He couldn’t undo the past, but from now on, he’d keep her safe. Maybe being sent down to the countryside wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Looking down at the sleeping girl in his arms, Huo Wu’s heart ached. These days, he and Old Ruan had been so busy dealing with external pressures and arranging the group’s future, they’d neglected Ruan Ruan. She must have been scared and anxious all this time.

“Be gentle with her. It gets cold at night—wrap her in this blanket so she doesn’t catch a chill,” Jiang Yiliu said calmly as he handed over a thick blanket from who knows where.

Wrapped in the warm blanket, the little girl finally settled down, nestling into Huo Wu’s arms and drifting back into peaceful sleep.

Huo Wu glanced at the small boy next to him, who was only up to his thigh yet seemed more attentive and considerate than most adults. He suddenly fell silent, feeling like he’d just caught a glimpse of a fussy old nanny in a five-year-old’s body. He quickly dismissed the thought—it had to be his imagination.

“Dahai, your kid is something,” said Ruan Yuanjiang as he stretched out his stiff joints with a smile.

Jiang Dahai rubbed the back of his head, clearly proud. Of course, his son was the best! But he still replied with modesty, “He’s always been thoughtful. He’s the one who looks after our fourth daughter at home. Farm kids are like that—grow up fast.”

Ruan Yuanjiang’s shoulder rub faltered. His smile stiffened. If he remembered correctly, Jiang Dahai’s fourth daughter was older than Yiliu… Had Dahai mixed something up?

Bai Fangqiu chuckled softly, appreciating how Jiang Yiliu had just handed over the blanket. It was rare to see such a young child be so thoughtful.

But later, after spending more time with them, he would see just how much Jiang Yiliu played the role of caretaker, like a little housekeeper, protecting his older sisters as if they were the children. Only then would Bai realize just how naive his first impression had been.

The livestock shed was close to the commune office.

It was already late. The old man who used to look after the livestock had passed away the previous year. Now, there was no permanent caretaker; villagers took turns patrolling. The shed was in terrible shape—a hole in the roof let in freezing wind. Spending a night there in the dead of winter could freeze a person to death. Most villagers avoided staying overnight, only checking in periodically when it was their turn.

When Jiang Dahai and the others arrived, the place was silent except for the occasional snort and grunt of the animals.

The moment they approached, the strong stench of manure hit them. In the village, animal dung was valuable—used to fertilize fields. Every few days, someone came to clean out the buildup in the shed.

When Old Mo was still alive, he had been meticulous about cleaning. He gathered all the manure into a pile, keeping the smell down. But clearly, no one had cleaned it today. The stench made a few city-bred folks want to gag.

Still, the group had enough experience to know this smell might become a regular part of their lives from now on. They held back their expressions, though the corners of their mouths twitched.

Jiang Yiliu quietly observed them the whole time. Seeing that none of them showed disgust or contempt, he was secretly pleased.

He had worried these people wouldn’t be able to handle rural life, but it seemed they had strong minds after all.

Jiang Dahai unhitched the donkey from the cart, led it into its stall, and locked it up. Jiang Yiliu added some feed to the trough. With that done, they headed to the commune office. It wasn’t far.

The building was brightly lit. Inside, along with the production team leader Mo Dashuan and Old Jiang, stood three respected village elders. One was the team accountant Cheng Ming, another was the women’s committee director Yang Xiu, and the last was retired soldier Sun Rong, like Old Jiang, a former soldier who had fought against the Japanese. Both men held great authority in Qingshan Village.

When Jiang Cheng saw his old comrade, he was overwhelmed with emotion. But the telegram from his superior had been clear—their connection must remain hidden to avoid political fallout. No matter how happy he felt, he couldn’t acknowledge him openly.

Ruan Yuanjiang and Jiang Dahai had also clearly been briefed on this. From the moment they entered the commune office, both sides acted like strangers, with none of the warmth they’d shown earlier.

Jiang Yiliu sat quietly in Jiang Dahai’s arms, deep in thought.

Inside, the commune office was much warmer than outside, thanks to a brazier burning in the corner. The men sat around a square table, chatting.

As soon as he stepped inside, Jiang Yiliu let out a relieved breath. He looked at Ruan Ruan, asleep in Huo Wu’s arms, cheeks flushed, and finally relaxed.

“These are the ones being sent down?” Mo Dashuan stepped forward and took the official documents from Jiang Dahai. He looked over the three men—a frail old man, a scholarly one, and one strong young man who looked potentially dangerous. Still, none of them looked like bad people.

“Brother Mo, these are the three ‘stinking intellectuals’ assigned to our village for reeducation through labor,” said Jiang Dahai, pointing them out one by one. “That’s Bai Fangqiu, former director of the People’s Hospital in the capital. That’s Ruan Yuanjiang, a professor from Huaqing University—classic bourgeois class. And that’s Huo Wu, ex-military. Broke the rules, so he’s here for reform.”

The room murmured in surprise. These were big names! In the old days, that would’ve been like having a royal doctor or top scholar in their midst. Looking at Bai and Ruan, the villagers suddenly felt a bit self-conscious. Could people like that be made to do menial labor?

The central directive said they had to be housed in the worst quarters and given the hardest work. But from the looks of them, only Huo Wu seemed physically capable of such labor.

“What kind of work do we even assign them?” Yang Xiu tugged Mo Dashuan’s sleeve, then pointed to the little girl in Huo Wu’s arms. “And what about the girl? Why’d they bring a kid? What are we supposed to do with her?”

Ruan Yuanjiang, catching Jiang Cheng’s glance, understood who the real decision-maker in the village was. He turned to Mo Dashuan and said with a bitter smile, “She’s my granddaughter. Her parents were both killed in the Vietnam War. I’m all she has left. I had no choice but to bring her with me. Don’t worry—we’ll share my food allowance. I won’t let her be a burden.”

Reform-through-labor workers earned work points, but fewer than others, and Ruan Yuanjiang didn’t seem strong enough to earn enough for even himself.

That said, the Ruan family used to be incredibly wealthy. Even after donating most of their assets, they’d secretly held onto some valuable items. One of those could probably feed him and Ruan Ruan for life.

Thinking of the ration coupons hidden in his clothes, Ruan Yuanjiang felt slightly relieved.

A martyr’s daughter? No one asked why the father of a martyr would be sent down—they all had their guesses. But when it came to the child, a few hearts softened. People were still kind back then, especially to the children of those who had died for the country.

Sun Rong was especially moved. Many of his comrades had died in battle, leaving behind widows and orphans. He’d always shared his rations with those families. In his eyes, Ruan Ruan was like one of their daughters.

His temper flared. “She’s just a little girl. Are you telling me Qingshan Village can’t take care of one child? She’ll stay with us. As long as I have food, she won’t go hungry!”

Mo Dashuan knew Sun Rong well and didn’t respond directly. Instead, he turned to Jiang Cheng. “Uncle Jiang, what do you think?”

Jiang Cheng didn’t know why his old comrade brought the girl, but he didn’t think too hard about it. He agreed with Sun Rong. “She’s a martyr’s daughter. One kid doesn’t eat that much. If the village won’t provide for her, I will. My pension is enough to feed one child.”

No one objected, and just like that, Ruan Ruan was allowed to stay.

The conversation then turned to the group’s housing and labor assignments.