Chapter 20

Lin Yun actually understood Zhao Lanxiu’s thoughts. They had been poor for so long, and they subconsciously wanted to hold tightly to the little money they had. They feared that one day the situation would repeat itself, and they wanted to have some ability to withstand risks.

However, Lin Yun felt that, even if they needed to defend against risks, they should first ensure their most basic survival conditions.

Lin Yun even directly told Zhao Lanxiu that she could no longer tolerate eating the same things. If Zhao Lanxiu insisted, Lin Yun would spend money to buy rice.

Perhaps because she knew her daughter’s stubbornness or perhaps because she was reluctant to spend money on rice, Zhao Lanxiu agreed that the rice harvested this time would not be sold, except for the public grain tax.

After receiving a clear answer, Lin Yun breathed a sigh of relief. No matter what, life seemed to have a bit more hope.

Lin Yun originally thought that once the rice was dried, it could be packed into bags, but there were still many steps left. While using a windmill to remove the weeds from the rice, Lin Yun didn’t expect that even though the rice seemed clean, there was still a lot of wheat chaff. Their family worked together, and the rice had to go through several rounds of processing. It took a full three days to finally pack the rice into bags.

When they had just finished packing the rice, it was time to pay the public grain tax. According to Lin Chuntian, in the past, he would carry the grain to the grain station, which was not close, and he had to carry two to three hundred pounds of grain. Once at the grain station, he couldn’t immediately unload the grain; they had to wait because the time for grain collection was short, and there were many people. Waiting for a day was not uncommon.

Waiting was fine, but what was most worrying was that the staff at the grain station might find the rice to be of poor quality. In that case, they would need to bring it back for re-drying.

After understanding this process, Lin Yun approached Lin Yonggang: “Do you know anyone who has a cart and an ox we can borrow?”

“I know, Uncle San’s family raises oxen and has a cart. Why, sis? What do you need it for?”

“We need to take the grain to the grain station. It’s too hard for Dad to carry it. If we can borrow the cart and ox, it would be much easier to transport it.”

“Uncle San’s family also has to pay the public grain tax, and I saw Uncle San today, already using the ox cart to take the grain over.”

“Why must we go at the same time as them? We can wait until they are done and borrow it after.”

“But I feel like Uncle San might not lend it to us. Aunt San really treasures that cart. Last time, Mom wanted to borrow it but couldn’t get it.” Lin Yonggang was very skeptical about this.

“If we go empty-handed, they certainly won’t lend it to us. Here’s the plan: let’s go to town tomorrow, buy some pork, and then go to Uncle San’s house.”

“Sis, that’s too costly. It would be better if I just helped Dad carry it.”

“Dad usually carries those jars all the way to far places, and his shoulders are still sore. Don’t you see that his shoulders are covered in blood? Do you want to work him to death?”

Lin Yonggang thought these were things he could do without spending money, and that doing it himself wouldn’t be too difficult. He felt his sister had become more extravagant since she started earning money.

When Lin Yun first learned about the public grain tax, she had been thinking about whether they could borrow the ox cart, not only because of Lin Chuntian’s shoulders being rubbed raw during the double harvest season, but also because she had noticed a deep scar on his waist.

It was about one finger wide, running across his waist, with the flesh depressed, as though something had been pressing against it for a long time. The mark was so deep it seemed impossible to remove. Lin Yun hadn’t dared to ask Lin Chuntian directly.

Later, she found an opportunity to ask Lin Yumei, who explained that the scar was because of her. Lin Yun had originally had a twin sister, but when the two children were still in swaddling clothes, they fell ill. After seeing many doctors, no one could diagnose the disease, and her sister passed away soon after.

Many people had said Lin Yun wouldn’t survive either, just like her sister, but Lin Chuntian didn’t believe it. He didn’t argue with anyone but carried Lin Yun around looking for treatments. Whenever he heard about a doctor, he would take Lin Yun there.

Anyone who saw Lin Chuntian outside would always see him carrying a back basket with the small, frail Lin Yun inside.

Lin Yumei told her that people in the village were amazed that she had survived. While other children her age were already running around and causing mischief, three-year-old Lin Yun still couldn’t walk and hadn’t even spoken a word—she only cried occasionally, but even then, it was a weak cry that you could hardly hear. In those days when everything required ration tickets, Lin Chuntian was practically an exception—whenever he took Lin Yun out, he didn’t need any tickets to buy things.

Everyone who saw Lin Yun believed that the child wouldn’t live to see tomorrow, and they thought the father and daughter were pitiful.

Lin Yumei even remembered the first time she fought with someone. A child from an aunt’s house came over when Lin Yun was two and was placed in the living room. The child pointed at Lin Yun and asked their mother, “Why is there a dead child here?”

The aunt was embarrassed and hadn’t had time to correct her child when Lin Yumei exploded, “Who says my sister is a dead child? She’s not dead! She’s alive and well!”

The child, offended by the sharp rebuttal, got angry and said, “She’s a dead child. She can’t move. She’s a dead child. You’re inviting bad luck into your house. I’m never coming back again.”

Lin Yumei became even angrier and rushed to fight with the child, and even the aunt couldn’t stop her.

Lin Yumei never mentioned this incident to Lin Yun again, but Lin Yun seemed to sense the family’s despair at that time.

But perhaps Lin Chuntian’s persistence really moved the heavens. When Lin Yun turned six, they met a doctor who could cure her illness. Eventually, Lin Yun recovered and grew up, but those six or seven years had left an indelible mark on Lin Chuntian.

In fact, Lin Yun’s nickname, Er Ya (Second Girl), was because people believed a bad name would help her survive. The whole village called her by that name, thinking that if everyone called her this name, maybe she would survive thanks to Lin Chuntian’s sacrifices.