RBI1960 Chapter 5

“Zhenzi, why don’t you stay for dinner tonight?” Grandma Miao called out from outside.

Though Miao Sanfeng didn’t value her daughter as much as her two sons, she still cared more for her than for her granddaughters. Besides, her daughter had married well, which gave the old lady a lot of face in the village. Naturally, she treated her a bit better because of it.

Jiang Dazhen’s husband, Meng Chuanzhen, worked at a machinery factory in the county. He was a senior fourth-level worker, making 52.8 yuan a month. In those days, workers with that kind of income were even more sought-after than officials. You see, officials got paid monthly, but workers were paid by the day—so long as you worked 25 days in a month, you’d get your full salary, and if you worked all 30 or 31 days, you could make even more.

Meng Chuanzhen’s parents were also workers in the county. The whole family had solid incomes and steady supplies of grain and ration coupons. They never worried about food or clothing, and could even help out relatives back in the village.

Meng had been married before, but his first wife had died during childbirth, leaving behind a daughter who was now ten years old.

Jiang Dazhen had finished middle school and was working as a temp at the same textile factory where Meng’s mother worked. His mother, seeing her son had been single for years, thought it was time to do something. She liked Dazhen—hardworking, sturdy, and not the least bit bothered that she came from a farming family—so she matched the two up.

Other than being a bit older and bringing a stepchild into the marriage, Meng Chuanzhen was a great catch. Jiang Dazhen agreed without hesitation. She gave birth to a son in their second year of marriage, which delighted Meng’s parents so much they practically worshipped her after that. Even when they noticed she occasionally sent things back to her family, they just turned a blind eye.

“I can’t stay. I only came to drop some things off. Mengxue is still young and can’t be left alone,” Dazhen said.

She knew full well what her family’s situation was. The production team only distributed food twice a year—once midyear and once at the end. It was still more than a month until the next distribution. This was the time when the family’s food supply was at its tightest. They were probably all relying on her father’s government subsidy next month. If she stayed, her nieces might not have enough to eat.

“It’s getting late—I’d better head out,” she said, kissing her nephew and handing him back to her sister-in-law. “And remember what I told you—look out for Daniu and the others.”

She stepped down from the kang, brushed herself off, smoothed her clothes, and walked out through the curtain.

Little Jiang Laidi reached out, trying to grab her.

“Oh, my sweet little nephew doesn’t want Auntie to go, huh?” Dazhen looked at his soft little hand reaching out to her, and her heart melted. This nephew really had a bond with her, so much more likable than her second brother’s daughters.

Laidi was still tiny and weak—there was no way he could drag a grown woman back. He could only watch helplessly as she left.

Gu Dongmei was puzzled. Why did it feel like her baby had lost all his energy the moment his aunt left? He was just lying listlessly on her chest.

“Is he sleepy?” she murmured to herself. “Maybe I should put him down for a nap. If the girls come home and wake him up, that’ll be a whole thing.”

Big Sister! Laidi’s eyes lit up. In the few days since his rebirth, his mind had been groggy. He hadn’t even had a good look at his four older sisters. He wondered how they were doing now.

As night fell, the rest of the family returned home after a hard day’s work.

Because Gu Dongmei had just given birth to a son, Miao Sanfeng had, unusually, gone to the production team to get her a half-month maternity leave. In those days, people weren’t so delicate—many women were back in the fields two or three days after giving birth. Work points meant food, and not working meant going hungry. You had no choice but to grit your teeth and keep going.

Many women ended up with lifelong illnesses from those postpartum days, suffering terribly as they aged.

This was Gu Dongmei’s first time doing a proper postpartum recovery. Even if it was only half a month, she was deeply grateful.

“You’re back. Zhenzi came by today and brought some things,” Miao Sanfeng said, setting the chopsticks on the table as her husband and son returned, soaked in sweat and carrying hoes.

“Daniu, Ernü, go bring fresh clothes for your dad and grandpa,” she said, tending the stove while instructing the girls who followed the men inside.

Daniu and Ernü responded quickly and went to their room, putting the four-year-old Sannü and the two-year-old Sinu on the kang for their mom to watch.

Laidi stared at his oldest sister with hungry eyes. When Daniu died, the family was still been poor. She’d never even had a photo taken. After all these years, he’d nearly forgotten what she looked like.

His gentle big sister, fierce second sister, gluttonous third sister, and dazed little fourth sister… He looked at Sinu, drooling at his side—right now, she was just a toddler, just like him.

“Here, for little brother.” Sannü pulled a small black berry from her pocket. It had been squished a bit, and the dark juice was all over her hand. She reached out, trying to stuff it into her little brother’s mouth.

Laidi nearly cried.

It had always been like this. As the youngest, his sisters always gave him the best of whatever little treats they had. Even Sannü, the most possessive of food, would always save a piece of her favorite snacks to share with him.

Watching her look heartbroken yet still determined to give him the berry, Gu Dongmei couldn’t help but laugh.

“He’s too little for that, sweetie. You eat it,” she said gently. She was relieved that the girls didn’t resent their little brother despite the special treatment he received. Harmony among siblings was all she ever wanted.

Sannü didn’t understand why her brother couldn’t have the delicious berry. After a moment, she looked at her drooling little sister and split the berry in half, feeding one piece to Sinu. The sweet taste made both girls beam with delight.

Daniu and Ernü, seeing their sisters enjoying themselves, found clean clothes for their dad and grandpa and hurried back.

Jiang Cheng, who had a limp, normally didn’t go out to work, but now that his eldest son had given him a grandson, he was fired up again. He wanted to earn some extra food points while he still had strength, to save up for the baby’s future wedding.

He and his son had been working together daily, doing lighter tasks that still earned a few points.

The two men stripped off their shirts, leaving only their underpants, and used a bucket of well water to rinse off. It was summer, and villagers preferred the convenience of cold well water over baths.

After washing up and putting on clean clothes, they came into the main room. Jiang Cheng didn’t see his daughter and asked, “Why didn’t you have Zhenzi stay for dinner?” Then, spotting the large pot of pork bones, he was surprised. “She brought over bones?”

He got half a pound of meat coupons every month, but meat was scarce. It had been months since they’d had any.

“What meat are we supposed to eat? All of it went to Dongmei. She needs to eat well so my grandson doesn’t go hungry,” he grumbled. In his mind, nothing was more important than his grandson now.

“Don’t need you to tell me,” Miao Sanfeng snapped. “I already cleaned all the meat off the bones and saved it for Dongmei. You two can gnaw on the bones.”

To people back then, meat was the good stuff. Bones didn’t satisfy unless they had a little fat or meat on them.

“Mom, is the baby asleep? I haven’t held him all day—I miss him,” Jiang Dahai said. Ever since his son was born, he walked with a spring in his step.

Jiang Cheng didn’t say it out loud, but he looked just as eager. Unfortunately, as the grandfather, he wasn’t allowed into the room during the postpartum period, and the baby was rarely brought out.

“Dongmei’s feeding him. Don’t go in—you’ll scare him and he might choke,” Miao Sanfeng warned, not trusting her clumsy son at all.

Jiang Dahai wasn’t offended. He just grinned, figuring the baby would be done eating by the time dinner ended, and then he could play with his son.

Jiang Cheng was quietly jealous. He’d hardly even seen his grandson.

Miao Sanfeng ignored them, carrying the steaming bone broth into the bedroom. It had simmered all afternoon, and the bones were falling apart. She hadn’t added salt—since it was meant to help produce milk—but the aroma still made everyone’s mouths water.

“Dongmei, drink this soup while it’s hot.”

“You girls better not touch this. It’s for your brother. If I catch you sneaking even a sip, I’ll tan your hides,” she snapped at the girls before heading back to the kitchen.

Sannü and Sinu were so scared they didn’t even dare look at the soup.

In this household, the girls only got to eat after the adults finished.

Laidi stared at the bowl of soup in his mother’s hands, lost in thought. Was the difference between boys and girls really this stark? In his past life, he’d been a girl—his grandparents had never treated him well. But now, as a boy, his mom was drinking meat soup.

He didn’t know whether to feel lucky or just sad.

“Daniu, Ernü, Sannü, Sinu—come here,” Gu Dongmei whispered, waving her daughters over once their grandmother left.

“Mom, what are you doing? That soup is for you!” Daniu panicked when she saw her mother trying to feed her a piece of meat.

“It’s a huge bowl—I can’t finish it. Don’t you all want a taste?” she said softly.

They were still kids. No child could resist the smell of meat.

“Hurry up—your grandma could come back any minute,” Gu Dongmei urged, giving each girl a piece of meat. It was the first time she’d ever dared defy her mother-in-law. Her heart was racing.

Sinu was too little to chew, so Dongmei gave her a spoonful of broth instead.

“This is what meat tastes like? It’s amazing! When I grow up, I’m gonna eat meat every day!” Sannü said, eyes shining.

Dongmei’s heart ached. Her daughter was already four, and this was her first taste of meat. What kind of mother had she been?

“Mom, why aren’t you feeding baby brother?” Sannü asked.

“He can only drink milk right now. He’ll get to eat meat when he’s older,” Dongmei said, gently stroking her daughter’s sparse yellow hair.

Sannü thought it over and decided her baby brother was too pitiful. She was going to be extra good to him from now on.

That little bowl of soup became one of their most treasured memories. Even Ernü, usually tough and loud, couldn’t stop smiling.

The girls chewed every bite until it lost all its flavor, reluctant to swallow even a scrap.

Laidi looked at his sisters’ thin, yellowed faces. He knew just how precious food was in times like these. In a few years, when that terrible storm came, how many more would be swept away into despair?

He’d been given a second chance at life. What could he do to change his family’s fate?