Chapter 4: A Letter from Home

The sun rose higher, burning away the morning mist as the temperature climbed steadily.

The June sun was no joke, and Ye Xin finally understood the true meaning behind the poems she’d read, like “Who knows the toil behind every grain of food?” and “Scorching heat burns my back.” Farming was no easy life.

Drenched in sweat and thoroughly exhausted, the only relief she found was in the coolness of her feet, submerged in the mud. Her lower back ached from bending over for so long, but she couldn’t afford to straighten up and rest when everyone else was planting rice so quickly.

Rice planting was done walking backward, and though the people on either side of her had left space for her to work, things weren’t going smoothly. To her left, Shen Zhuo planted in a perfect line, but the woman on her right kept veering off course, gradually closing the gap and nearly cutting off Ye Xin’s path.

The scorekeeper noticed this from afar, came over with a notebook, sighed, shook his head, and walked away. Ye Xin blushed with embarrassment once again.

Determined, she sped up her pace, finishing one patch of the paddy and moving on to the next. By the time noon arrived, she was utterly exhausted. Hunger was one thing, but thirst was unbearable. Licking her dry lips, she longed for a drink of water.

Shen Zhuo had already washed his feet and was heading up to the ridge. Ye Xin quickly followed. The noon sun was relentless, and by the time they reached the house, her vision was swimming.

Shen Zhuo fetched cool well water, drank a few sips, and then headed out to the vegetable garden behind the house. It was their private plot where they grew vegetables for themselves. Lunch had already been prepared earlier in the day to save time, but they still needed fresh vegetables to make it tastier.

While Shen Zhuo was busy, Ye Xin was desperately searching for something. After rummaging through the house, she made a depressing discovery: there wasn’t a single cup to be found! Worse yet, the village didn’t have a store where she could buy one; she’d have to go to town, but that wasn’t an option now.

After a grueling morning, she realized she couldn’t survive the summer heat without water. She could very well collapse from heatstroke like her predecessor, landing face-first in the muddy fields—that would be no fun.

“Lunch is ready,” Shen Zhuo’s cool voice called from the kitchen.

Ye Xin had no choice but to go outside. She suddenly remembered she had been so focused on finding a water cup that she hadn’t helped Shen Zhuo prepare the vegetables. He must’ve been just as tired from the morning’s work, and she hadn’t lifted a finger to assist. After promising to be more diligent, she was already slacking off. Hopefully, this wouldn’t deepen his dislike of her.

Shen Zhuo was already seated and eating, not even glancing in her direction. Ye Xin quickly served herself some sweet potato porridge and sat down across from him. On the table was a plate of steamed sweet potato leaves mixed with soy sauce, which looked much better than what she’d made the night before. She took a bite—thankfully, it tasted better too, palatable enough to swallow.

Time was of the essence; they’d need to rest quickly before getting back to work in the afternoon.

After they finished eating, Ye Xin couldn’t help but ask, “Do we have any cups?”

Shen Zhuo gave her a puzzled look.

“I want to take some water with me,” Ye Xin explained. “It’s too hot, and I get thirsty easily. I need to stay hydrated.”

Her eyes wandered over the kitchen, taking in the small pile of old, chipped bowls and plates. Not a single one had a lid—they were just too poor.

Shen Zhuo did have an enamel cup with a lid, which he kept in his room for drinking water at night. He often got thirsty during the day too but never bothered to bring it with him, preferring to wait until he got home to drink. But it was a personal item, and he hesitated to offer it.

He glanced at her exhausted face, clearly reluctant to share, yet worried she might suffer heatstroke again. The afternoon would be even tougher than the morning.

To his surprise, he found himself impressed by her effort that morning. Though she had worked slowly and clumsily, at least she’d stuck with it.

After a brief internal debate, he convinced himself that letting her use the cup was better than having to carry her back again in case of heatstroke. That would be even more embarrassing.

After washing the dishes, he spoke in a flat tone, “I have one in my room. If you need it, I’ll give it to you.”

Ye Xin immediately understood what he meant but, after weighing her options, decided that staying hydrated was more important than her embarrassment. She muttered, “Yes, I’ll take it.”

Shen Zhuo retrieved the cup, his expression stiff as he handed it to her, avoiding eye contact.

Ye Xin accepted it gratefully and thanked him sincerely.

He said nothing, closing the door to rest as soon as she took the cup.

Ye Xin hurried to the well, washing the enamel cup several times to ease her mind. Though it had seen better days—chipped along the bottom and rim—it was clean and clearly well-maintained. Still, she felt better after giving it an extra wash.

She never would have imagined needing to borrow someone else’s cup just to drink water…

After just one day here, her levels of embarrassment had far surpassed anything from her previous life.

Once the cup was clean and filled with fresh water, Ye Xin returned to her room to rest.

After a short nap, she headed back out for the afternoon’s work. Before leaving, she grabbed the large, tattered straw hat hanging by the courtyard gate. Although it was old and oversized, making her look ridiculous, it at least provided some shade.

Following the morning’s blistering heat, Ye Xin wasn’t concerned with appearances anymore—she just wanted to be comfortable.

Shen Zhuo glanced at her, then silently walked out of the house.

Ye Xin followed, holding the water cup close.

Halfway to the fields, they ran into a group of female educated youths. Ye Xin immediately felt her scalp prickle with unease.

Sure enough, one of them, a sturdy girl with short-cropped hair, spotted her and called out, “Well, well, if it isn’t Ye Xin! I almost didn’t recognize you. You look like a proper village woman now. I heard you were planting rice this morning—who’d have thought you’d actually get to work?”

This was Liu Hongxia, another girl who had arrived in March, the same batch as Ye Xin. She was hardworking, friendly, but had a sharp tongue and a fondness for gossip. Given Ye Xin’s less-than-stellar reputation, Liu Hongxia never missed a chance to poke fun at her.

Since avoiding her was impossible, Ye Xin mumbled a response, “Of course I’m working—what else would I be doing in the fields?”

Liu Hongxia let out a mocking laugh. “Is that so? You were in the fields yesterday too, weren’t you? But instead of working, you passed out! So delicate. We’re all from the city, but you seem to be the most fragile. Isn’t that right, Jingyu?”

The girl next to her, Jiang Jingyu, a quiet beauty with a slender frame, didn’t join in the teasing. Instead, she calmly said, “Hongxia, maybe you should go easier on her.”

Ye Xin glanced at Jiang Jingyu, whose elegance and good looks made her stand out wherever she went. Feeling self-conscious about her own current disheveled state, Ye Xin looked away.

Liu Hongxia snorted. “She doesn’t even seem to care about embarrassing herself, so why should I?”

Then she turned to another girl, “What do you think, Xiao Wei?”

Wang Xiaowei, a tall and composed young woman who had been there for two years, only frowned at Ye Xin, but didn’t respond to Liu Hongxia’s question.

Another girl, Zheng Wenwen, who looked even more no-nonsense, remarked to Liu Hongxia, “Why are you even bothering with her?”

Feeling her taunts falling flat, Liu Hongxia got to the point. “Aren’t you supposed to break off your engagement with Shen Zhuo? Why are you still following him around to work?”

Fed up with her prying, Ye Xin snapped, “None of your business!” She quickened her pace, eager to get away from them.

Jogging to catch up with Shen Zhuo, she realized how far ahead he’d already walked.

The afternoon was more of the same—hours of backbreaking labor under the blazing sun. The heat radiated from the sky and even the water in the fields began to feel warm as the day wore on.

Ye Xin was drenched in sweat, her head spinning from exhaustion, and her efficiency had dropped even lower than it had been that morning. She no longer cared about rushing through the work; every now and then, she had to straighten her back and take a break. After all, there was no point in overworking herself at such a young age—what if she hurt her body? It wouldn’t be worth it.

Still growing, she worried. What if she ended up with a hunchback from all this? That would be a disaster.

“This farm work is so grueling,” she thought with a sigh. “When will I ever finish planting these crops?”

Just as she was lost in thought, someone called out to her.

“Ye Xin! You’ve got mail!”

A postman on a bicycle rode up to the field and shouted across the paddies, his voice booming.

Ye Xin was momentarily stunned, but quickly put down the rice seedlings and made her way to the edge of the field.

The postman approached her, handing her a letter and a package. “Ye Xin, here’s your mail! And this package too! It wasn’t too heavy, so I brought it along for you. Take care!”

“Thank you!” Ye Xin quickly expressed her gratitude.

Waving her off, the postman turned and continued on his delivery route.

Ye Xin placed the letter and package on a dry patch by the field and took a moment to drink from her enamel cup before returning to work.

By the time evening rolled around, her back felt like it was about to break in two.

“Are you alright?” Shen Zhuo, seeing how sluggish she looked—like a wilted wild herb—couldn’t help but ask.

Ye Xin looked up, her face streaked with sweat and flecked with mud, and replied weakly, “Oh, I’m still alive.”

Shen Zhuo glanced at her again, pursed his lips, then turned away, saying nothing more.

The record-keeper came over with a notebook, tallying everyone’s work points for the day.

After all her backbreaking labor, Ye Xin checked her score: four points.

“Four points?”

In her mind, she scrambled to recall the meaning: Ten points a day was enough to ensure a good harvest, maybe even save up a little. Eight points? Enough food to survive but no savings. Six points meant barely scraping by, never fully satisfied. Four points? On the verge of starving!

That meant, despite working herself to the bone, she couldn’t even feed herself!

The realization hit Ye Xin hard, leaving her utterly disheartened.

With work over and the points recorded, the group dispersed for dinner.

Ye Xin, her stomach growling with hunger, lagged behind the others. As she grabbed her letter, package, and cup, she also discreetly picked up a few wilted rice seedlings that had been left by the field’s edge.

She had wanted to take some seedlings at noon but hadn’t found the right opportunity. Now, she could bring them back and try planting them in her “space”—her secret place.

Shen Zhuo, probably used to having her trailing behind him all day, noticed she wasn’t there and turned to look back.

Ye Xin quickly hurried to catch up with him, flashing a smile. “Thanks for waiting!”

Shen Zhuo looked ahead again, confused as to how she had perked up so quickly after earning a measly four points—less than a child might earn—and yet, she didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed…

When they returned, Ye Xin excused herself to her room under the pretense of putting away her letter and package. She took the chance to enter her secret space and plant the rice seedlings.

Rice thrived in water, so Ye Xin planted them by the stream that flowed through her space, letting the water nourish them without washing them away. Whether they would take root remained to be seen, but it was worth trying as an experiment. If they did grow, she could compare them to the ones outside.

She didn’t even open her letter before rushing out to help prepare dinner.

Shen Zhuo had cooked both breakfast and lunch today, so she couldn’t afford to slack off anymore. If she got kicked out, it would be trouble!

Dinner was once again sweet potato porridge and greens, and after a full day of heavy labor, the feeling of not being full was even more pronounced. It wasn’t so much that her stomach wasn’t full, but there was no oil or meat—nothing satisfying about it.

After eating sweet potato porridge for so many meals in a row, Ye Xin had had enough—she wanted meat!

After washing up, it was already dark by the time Ye Xin finally sat down to read her letter.

That’s when she realized—she didn’t have a kerosene lamp…

Most of the village didn’t have electricity, and even those that did rarely used it due to the high cost. Most people still used kerosene lamps, but even those were used sparingly to save money. Most work was done during the day, with people going to bed early in the evening.

Ye Xin couldn’t help but reflect on how poor she was.

Luckily, she had her space.

Inside her space, there was no night—it was always bright daylight. This had already been proven.

Entering her space, Ye Xin sat down in the study on the second floor of her wooden house and read her letter.

It was sent from Chang City in Jiangsu Province, addressed to her here at Liangshuitang in Fengshui Brigade, Hongze Commune, Nanshi, Guangxi Province. The two locations were separated by three provinces and over a thousand kilometers—an arduous journey.

The original owner of this body had been a 16-year-old girl, traveling alone to this distant place. Life had been hard.

This was the fate of many young people during this era, a reflection of the experience of over ten million others who had been sent to the countryside, either by choice or force.

Ye Xin opened the letter and began to read.

It was written by her elder sister, Ye Huan. The letter began by asking why Ye Xin hadn’t written back. Why hadn’t she responded to their letters? How was she doing in the countryside? Was she adjusting to rural life? Had she encountered any difficulties?

Her sister also mentioned the items she had sent: a pair of cloth shoes, a shirt, a jar of salted meat sauce, and two cloth coupons, reminding her to check if anything was missing. There was also a 30-yuan money order that she would need to exchange in town.

At the end, Ye Huan expressed hope that Ye Xin would write back. The family was worried about her and felt guilty about sending her away. They hoped she didn’t hold a grudge against them and asked her to keep in touch, to let them know how she was doing.

Had the original Ye Xin never written back?

After some thought, Ye Xin realized that was indeed the case.

Before she left, her family had asked her to write as soon as she arrived. But after arriving in early March, she hadn’t written. The family waited for a month, then sent a letter in April asking how she was. The original Ye Xin hadn’t replied. Now, in June, they had sent another letter, this time including some items for her.

Why hadn’t the original owner written back? The letter hinted at it—resentment towards the family for not securing her a job in the city.

Her parents were both working, and the family’s financial situation was decent. But like many families in that era, they favored sons over daughters and wanted to have many children. Ye Xin had an older sister, who, though not a son, was still the first child and was treated well. As the second daughter, Ye Xin was less favored. Below her was a younger brother, who, of course, was the family’s favorite.

Her older sister had finished middle school, and their parents had spent money to get her a job in the city.

Ye Xin, on the other hand, had also graduated from middle school and even been admitted to high school. But instead of letting her continue her studies or finding her a job, her parents had signed her up to be sent to the countryside. At just 16, small and skinny, she was forced into a life of farming.

If that weren’t bad enough, they had sent her off with nothing but two quilts, a few old clothes, and a measly 30 yuan—money they were saving to help her brother find a job!

Of course, the beloved son had to stay in the city and couldn’t possibly suffer in the countryside.

Thinking about this, Ye Xin could feel the original owner’s bitterness and resentment, and it left her feeling unsettled.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she reminded herself that the past no longer mattered. The original owner’s family was far away, and their contact would be minimal from now on. She didn’t need to dwell on it.

But that money? She could definitely use it for now.

Ye Xin examined the money order closely, a smile forming on her lips.

The original owner’s initial 30 yuan had been nearly spent on essentials like a basin and soap, so this new 30 yuan was a welcome relief. Now she could finally buy some much-needed supplies.

She began counting on her fingers—water cup, kerosene lamp, spices… and maybe even a little something delicious to replenish her strength!