The two pancakes that Luo Bing ate were not in vain. He carried the entire 150 pounds of sweet potatoes on his shoulders and set off without complaint. Their father, Luo Wen, had a smile he couldn’t hide, carrying 100 pounds of cornmeal on his back as they headed home.

Luo Cheng wasn’t idle either. He carefully packed their grains into separate cloth bags, ensuring the rice, flour, millet, and soybeans didn’t mix.

The grains cost a considerable sum of money:

Rice and flour cost 1.6 cent per pound, totaling 1.6 yuan for 5 pounds of each.

Sweet potatoes were cheap at 0.01 yuan per pound, with 150 pounds costing 1.5 yuan.

Cornmeal, priced at 0.05 yuan per pound, came to 5 yuan for 100 pounds.

Millet and soybeans, slightly more expensive than cornmeal, added another 1+ yuan.

The total expenditure was nearly 10 yuan, a significant amount in rural areas. For perspective, even urban workers often earned only 20-30 yuan per month. Without grain coupons, this purchase could have cost several times more.

As they walked back together, the three men were alert. When they left home, they hadn’t anticipated buying so much grain. They felt safe then, but now they carried nearly 300 pounds of food.

Luo Wen and Luo Bing, carrying the bulk of the load, were nervous about encountering desperate people who might attempt to steal their grain. Luo Cheng, wearing his military uniform and carrying lighter bags, was their safeguard. Luo Wen intentionally arranged it this way so Luo Cheng could free his hands to handle any potential threats.

In Luo Wen and Luo Bing’s eyes, a retired soldier like Luo Cheng should easily fend off several attackers.

If Luo Cheng knew what they were thinking, he would have laughed. While the people they passed might look thin and malnourished, they weren’t weak. At the grain station, he had seen a female worker casually lift a 100-pound sack of grain as if it were nothing. He suspected that in a fight, he might even lose to her.

Rural farmers might be lean, but they were strong. Luo Cheng doubted he could take on even one of them. At best, he thought he might be able to defeat his two younger sisters.

The grain made it home safely:

150 pounds of sweet potatoes

100 pounds of cornmeal

With 280 pounds in total, a portion would be shared with relatives.

As for Luo Cheng’s carefully chosen 30 pounds of rice, flour, millet, and soybeans, they were intended for specific uses. The flour would be saved for making dumplings during the New Year. The millet was for making nourishing porridge for his grandmother, and the rice was for occasional indulgence when he craved it.

His mother and grandmother had been waiting outside the house, seated on stools by the entrance. When they saw the men return, laden with sacks of grain, they were astonished—though Luo Cheng’s smaller bags were less impressive.

Despite sweating heavily, Luo Wen and Luo Bing were in high spirits, joking and chatting as if the heavy loads didn’t bother them. In contrast, Luo Cheng, carrying only 30 pounds, already felt tired. The walk from the grain station to their home, even at a brisk pace, took nearly 20 minutes.

For someone unaccustomed to physical labor, walking 20 minutes while carrying 30 pounds was exhausting. Luo Cheng couldn’t help but admire his father and younger brother, who had carried over 100 pounds each without showing much fatigue.

The unexpected abundance of grain disrupted the family’s initial plans. They hadn’t anticipated that the national grain coupons would allow such flexibility in purchases. The 100 pounds of cornmeal alone was enough to share generously with relatives:

10 pounds each for two uncles and two aunts

Luo Cheng’s mother, Wang Ling, also wanted to set aside some grain (20 pounds) for her parents. She planned to send it to her eldest brother’s house, where her parents lived. Once there, it would be up to them to distribute it among Wang Ling’s siblings.

After these allocations, the family wouldn’t have much left for themselves. Wang Ling also planned to send 20 pounds of sweet potatoes to her family, leaving the household with a modest supply.

With so many relatives coming they needed to prepare a hearty lunch. The plan was to cook:

Red yam porridge with a mix of sweet potatoes, millet, and rice.

Cornmeal for making wotou (steamed cornbread).

For this era, such a meal was considered generous, though it would use up a fair amount of grain.

Without clocks, people relied on intuition and the sun’s position to determine mealtimes. Most families ate only two meals a day, and some women and children managed with just one. As a result, lunchtime came earlier than it does in modern times.

There was also a common pattern: the farther relatives lived, the earlier they arrived; nearby relatives tended to dawdle. Those living far away feared being late and set out earlier, while those living close assumed they had plenty of time.

Luo Cheng’s youngest aunt was the first to arrive, bringing a bundle of radish greens to add to the porridge. Luo Cheng had no memory of her—she was effectively a stranger to him. He only recognized her because Luo Bing and his sisters greeted her as “Aunt,” prompting Luo Cheng to follow suit.

His aunt, however, was full of enthusiasm. Luo Cheng, the family’s only high school graduate and a former soldier, was a source of pride. To her, he represented the family’s success and her own ability to hold her head high among in-laws.

“Chengzi, you’re finally back! These past years, your parents and all of us have missed you. Look at you in that uniform—so handsome, even more beautiful than some girls!”

Her flattery was overwhelming. Luo Cheng, feeling awkward, quickly changed the subject.

“Aunt, hold on a moment. I’ll grab something from my room.”

In his room, away from prying eyes, Luo Cheng didn’t bother pretending. He pulled out a bag of Melon seeds from his system inventory and grabbed a few other items: a washbasin and a flashlight. The system didn’t allow items to be returned once removed, so he made sure to choose carefully.