RBI1960 Chapter 6

After the family finished dinner, they brought out a few chairs and sat under the big tree in the courtyard to enjoy the cool evening breeze.

Old Jiang puffed on his dry tobacco pipe, the sharp, choking smoke curling into the air. Life had just begun to improve a little, and nobody was willing to waste money buying tobacco. What he smoked was homegrown tobacco leaves. He liked it strong and rough—he lived for that harsh, throat-scorching feeling. Without a few puffs every day, he felt like something was missing.

“Stop smoking already, or you’ll choke the baby!” Miao Sanfeng glared at him and quickly went to close the window to their son’s room. Old Jiang shot her an unhappy look and dumped the tobacco out of his pipe with a sigh.

There wasn’t much to do in the countryside at night. Once it got dark, every household lit kerosene lamps. The poorer ones saved on oil and worked by moonlight instead.

Miao Sanfeng lit a lamp and began mending clothes under the dim light. The two older girls, Dani and Erni, were out in the yard washing the family’s laundry. Jiang Dahai glanced at his thin, frail eldest daughter, then at his mother. After hesitating for a while, he finally worked up the courage to speak.

“Ma, I want to send Dani to school.”

“What?!” Old Lady Miao dropped the clothes in her hands and shouted in disbelief. “What does a little girl need school for? Where do you think we have extra money lying around? You must be out of your mind with all this nonsense.”

Qingshan Village didn’t have a school. The nearest elementary school was in the biggest production brigade nearby—the Hongqi Production Team. Kids from several surrounding villages went there. The school wasn’t much, only had two teachers, and the annual tuition and miscellaneous fees added up to two yuan. At that time, one labor point was only worth about three cents, so that two yuan was equal to nearly half a month’s income for an average worker.

Life was better than a couple of years ago, but no family had much surplus. Unless a household had many laborers, no one would waste money sending a girl to school. After all, daughters eventually married out. It made more sense to feed the boys better with that money.

That was the prevailing mindset in the village. To Miao Sanfeng, keeping her eldest granddaughter at home meant one more person earning labor points and helping watch the little ones. She had already made plans—once her daughter-in-law finished her postpartum confinement and went back to the fields, Dani would stay home to take care of the baby. Dani had helped raise her younger sisters anyway; she was reliable.

Dani’s eyes had lit up when she first heard her father speak, but they quickly dimmed. In their village, only two girls had ever gone to school—one was the brigade leader’s daughter, Mo Xianghong, and the other was the daughter of the women’s committee director, Huang Yingying. Their families weren’t necessarily better off than the Jiangs, but they loved their daughters enough to support them.

Erni, unwilling to accept their grandmother’s words, muttered quietly to her sister, “Our second uncle’s boys are going to school, and Grandma and Grandpa paid for it too. But they don’t even study—they just skip class and climb trees all day!”

Dani gave a bitter smile and bowed her head. It wasn’t the same—those boys were grandsons.

“Ma, it’s not like we don’t have the money.” Jiang Dahai saw the disappointment in his daughter’s eyes and, for once, argued back. Every time the production team distributed labor points, some were converted to grain and some to cash. Plus, Old Jiang got a monthly allowance. The Jiang family wasn’t exactly poor. In those days, even money was useless without ration coupons—some things couldn’t be bought no matter how much money you had.

Spending two yuan was no big deal for their household.

“Ma, do you want Dani to earn labor points for the rest of her life? Look at Xiaomei—she only studied through junior high and now works in a factory. She’s got a steady paycheck and lives much better than we do here. If Dani learns a little more, she can even help her younger siblings study. Kids grow up fast—if someone teaches them at home, they’ll catch on quicker in school.”

Mentioning the grandson made Miao Sanfeng hesitate, but she still hated to give up the extra labor. Once Dani started school, who would help with all the chores? Erni was still too young and unreliable, and the other two girls were even smaller.

Old Jiang thought for a moment, then made the final call. “We’ll do what Dahai said. When Sanni’s a bit older, we’ll send Erni too. All the girls in the family should get an education.”

Erni hadn’t expected that—although she’d have to wait a few more years, the surprise filled her with joy.

“How much is all that going to cost?” Just paying for Dani was already enough to make Old Lady Miao’s heart ache. Now they were talking about all four girls? What use was sending girls to school anyway? The old man must be going senile.

“What do you know?” Old Jiang reached for his pipe, only to remember he’d dumped the tobacco out earlier.

As loud and tough as Miao Sanfeng usually was, Jiang Cheng (Old Jiang) was still the head of the household. Once he made a decision, she didn’t dare challenge it. She could only glare at her granddaughters and the foolish son who came up with this “ridiculous idea.”

But Old Jiang was thinking long-term. He didn’t want his grandkids to end up like him—stuck in the countryside forever. If even one of his four granddaughters succeeded, she could become a great support for his grandson. Sisters would always be connected by blood. Treat them well now, and they’ll remember the family in the future.

Even if his motives weren’t entirely selfless, this moment marked a major turning point in the sisters’ lives.

In their past lives, only Sini and Laidi ever went to school. But this time, before Laidi even said a word, fate had already taken a completely different turn.

“Nai, don’t worry,” Dani said nervously to her grandmother. “I’ll get up early to cut pig grass and finish chores after school. I promise I won’t slack off.”

“Grandma, I’ll help Dani with her chores too,” Erni added quickly, not wanting to miss the opportunity.

“Hmph.” Miao just gave them a look but didn’t say more.

Dani and Erni exchanged an excited glance and started washing the clothes with renewed energy.

“Be careful! Don’t scrub so hard you tear the clothes!” Miao Sanfeng shouted when she saw their enthusiasm. The girls stuck out their tongues and finally calmed down a bit.

The old farmhouse had thin walls, so Laidi, lying in the room, heard everything. In his previous life, his foolishly obedient father had never stood up for them. He’d been passive his whole life. Laidi closed his eyes tightly. Who would’ve thought having a son would spark such a big change? Maybe he should be grateful he was reborn as a boy.

Outside, Old Jiang suddenly thought of another problem.

“What should we name the baby?” He’d been mulling it over for days and still couldn’t think of one good enough for his grandson. The four granddaughters had been named simply: Dani, Erni, Sanni, Sini—just numbers in order. He had already picked out the next name: Laidi, meaning “bring a younger brother.” Ironically, before that name could be used, the real little brother had arrived.

“Dad, aren’t there a few city folks assigned here as educated youths? I heard they’re all pretty smart—maybe we can ask them for help?” Jiang Dahai suggested cautiously.

Previously, all the educated youths had been sent to the large Hongqi brigade. But lately, more had been sent down, and housing there ran out. So a few were distributed to nearby villages—Qingshan got four, two men and two women, all said to be high school graduates, which made them more educated than anyone around.

“You’ve got a point. I’ll go visit the educated youths’ house tomorrow.” Old Jiang nodded. He wanted to ask them about other things too.

As it grew darker, mosquitoes came out in full force. Old Jiang slapped his bitten leg and slowly made his way inside.

The rest of the family followed.

The Jiang house was small—only five rooms: a main hall, a kitchen, a storage room, and two bedrooms. Below the storage room was a big cellar, where they kept sweet potatoes and other food from the production team. One bedroom was for Old Jiang and his wife; the other housed Jiang Dahai, his wife, and their children.

The heated brick bed (kang) was long—easily fitting ten people. Since the girls were getting older, Jiang Dahai had hung a curtain down the middle for privacy. It didn’t block sound, but at least it was something.

“You’re back. What did Mom and Dad say?” Gu Dongmei asked quietly as Jiang Dahai entered.

“Dad agreed. When school starts in the fall, I’ll sign Dani up.” He said this while gazing affectionately at his newborn son, poking gently at his chubby cheeks.

Laidi, annoyed, swatted away the hand bothering him, but couldn’t help eavesdropping on the conversation.

“Don’t poke him! His skin’s delicate—you’ll hurt him.” Gu Dongmei scolded and brushed her husband’s hand away, visibly relieved that her daughter could go to school.

“I’m not hoping they turn out like Zhenzi and get factory jobs in town. I just want them to study a bit so they don’t get bullied in the future,” she said, glancing at Sanni and Sini, already fast asleep.

Laidi sneered inwardly. If they truly cared, why had they let big sis marry a widower and second sis marry a cripple in the last life? If it weren’t for their weakness and neglect, big sis wouldn’t have died.

That pain had long festered inside him, rotting like a wound—it hurt whenever touched.

Rationally, he knew everything was changing now. But decades of suffering couldn’t be undone by a few kind words and one warm meal.

He was almost glad he couldn’t speak yet. He didn’t want to call anyone Grandpa, Grandma, Dad, or Mom—not yet.

Later, Dani and Erni came back inside after cleaning the stove. They looked at Jiang Dahai with gratitude, making him feel ashamed and a little heartbroken. He pulled a steamed cornbread bun from his pocket. It was still warm—he’d kept it hidden there all day.

Today, he’d been assigned to dig a canal near the county. It was filthy, exhausting work, and the pay was the same as usual. No one wanted to go, but when he heard lunch was provided, he volunteered.

That bun was the only one he got. He didn’t eat it. After a bowl of cornmeal porridge and a drink of tap water from outside the canteen, he saved the bun. If his mom had known, the girls would’ve never seen a bite of it.

This bun was slightly larger than usual, mixed with a bit of white flour. It was soft and even a little sweet—something rare.

Jiang Dahai had done this many times before. Old Lady Miao always gave the girls too little food, so this was the only way he could help without openly confronting her.

In the end, they didn’t eat it that night. Sanni and Sini were already asleep, so Dani hid the bun, planning to share it with her sisters on their way up the mountain the next morning.

That night, with a whole bun stashed away, the sisters slept soundly. Laidi, however, felt deeply bitter.

This was life in the 1960s for girls like them—working harder than oxen, eating less than pigs.

But now, with his tiny limbs and fragile body, how could he possibly change that reality?

Just as he was worrying about the future, in the blink of an eye, he found himself in another space altogether.