At 1:30 PM, the white lime on the walls of the Songjia Village branch of the Hongxing Commune, which had been painted on the walls, was peeling off in large chunks under the sun.

The courtyard of the commune was full of people, all sweating heavily, and there was a strong smell of sweat in the air.

“Male workers, go to the mountain slope for the waterworks. Female workers, go to the valley fields to weed. Boys with men, girls with women, and the elderly, the disabled, and the young, go pick up manure together. Work starts now.” The voice of Team Leader Song Guangguang, broadcasting from the commune’s loudspeaker, was especially loud.

Of course, he was standing up on the podium.

“Second Uncle, Second Uncle, help me, Second Uncle!” Su Xiangwan, with her hair in disarray and her dirty, torn cloth clothes even more ragged, holding a child in her arms, rushed straight towards the podium during the busiest time when most of the commune was gathered.

“Su Xiangwan, you shameless woman, go back!” Old Lady Song shouted.

“Su Xiangwan, what are you doing? The podium of the production team—what are you, a woman, doing here? Do you want to end up in a labor reform camp?” Team Leader Song Guangguang also shouted.

“Team Leader, I just want to ask you, are you going to take charge of this situation for me?”

“Take charge? Take charge of what? Take charge of letting you marry your brother-in-law, Song Lao Er, while bringing your three children with you?” Someone in the crowd shouted.

The crowd began to jeer loudly.

Su Xiangwan had always been a joke in the entire Songjia Village.

“I’ve been married for seven years, folks. The man I married, I’ve only seen him twice, and we’ve been together for a grand total of fifteen days. You laugh at me for wanting to marry Song LaoEr? Pfft, if you ask me, marrying a man from the Song family is worse than marrying a donkey. At least the donkey would be with me all year round!” Su Xiangwan suddenly turned around, put one hand on her waist, and shouted, “I clearly just asked Lao Er to have Lao San help me feed the donkey, but you all think I want to marry Lao Er. Look at my little Zhizhi here in my arms, you’re all still reciting the leader’s quotations, studying the Little Red Book, and I just want to ask—did the leader ever tell you to spread rumors and slander a widow?”

“It wasn’t your mother-in-law who said you wanted to marry Lao Er?” Someone in the crowd called out loudly.

Su Xiangwan looked over and recognized the voice.

It was Song Jianguo, the tractor driver, Xiong Dan’s father.

Su Xiangwan stomped her foot and spat again. “My mother-in-law also said your Xiong Dan is an idiot. So, let me ask you, is Xiong Dan an idiot?”

Song Jianguo thought for a moment and immediately shut his mouth, saying nothing.

Su Xiangwan’s words were like machine gun fire, rapid and sharp.

The people of Songjia Village were simple folk, and in this society where the leader was revered above all, when they heard Su Xiangwan invoke the leader’s name, the people who had laughed at her earlier suddenly stopped talking.

Honestly, looking at little Zizhi, who was just over a year old and still unable to walk due to malnutrition—how could anyone not pity her?

“Xiangwan, resolve your family’s issues privately. Get down now.” Song Guangguang pounded the table.

“Okay, if the commune leader won’t help a member in need, and the Song family bullies me, then I should turn to the Women’s Federation for help. Where is Sun Shufen, the head of the Women’s Federation of Hongxing Commune? Have you seen her? A woman is seeking your help!”

Every commune had a Women’s Federation leader who helped solve problems that women faced, like being beaten by their husbands or mistreated by their mothers-in-law.

Women could seek help from the Women’s Federation in such matters.

This is a department established from the very beginning of the New China.

However, while setting it up was easy, implementing it proved challenging.

Why?

Because, while there were so-called Women’s Federation directors, most were uneducated rural women serving as part-time officials.

They themselves didn’t understand the central government’s policies, so how could they represent other women?

Thus, when the original character’s husband died, and she suffered abuse from her mother-in-law while struggling with hunger, she could have sought help from the Women’s Federation.

But like all the women in Songjiazhuang, she didn’t even know there was a Women’s Federation director in the Red Star Commune’s Songjiazhuang production team.

And the Women’s Federation director of the Red Star Commune was none other than Song Laotai’s sister-in-law, Song Guangguang’s wife, Sun Shufen.

When Su Xiangwan called out in public, she effectively drew a line between the families and pushed the matter into an official framework.

After all, in the eyes of Song Guangguang and his wife, Su Xiangwan was nothing more than a promiscuous woman unworthy of respect.

“What is it? What do you need me to solve?” Sun Shufen asked impatiently, her dislike for Su Xiangwan evident in her tone.

“Director, I have something that I can’t show to others, but I need to show you. Can you step behind the stage with me?” Su Xiangwan said.

“Fine, let’s go to my office. I’m curious to see what you’ve got for me,” Sun Shufen replied, stepping into a nearby brick house that served as her office.

What Sun Shufen didn’t expect was that as soon as they entered, this frail, emaciated woman carrying a baby immediately lifted her shirt in front of her.

Although only 24 years old, the original character had given birth to twins at 17 and had three children by now. Despite her youth and the physical demands of her life, her body had recovered quickly due to continuous labor.

But her ribs were deeply sunken, her abdomen hollowed—a clear sign of prolonged malnutrition.

Then she raised her head and asked, “Director, apart from during ’58, ’59, and ’64, have you ever seen a woman able to produce this?”

Half-red, half-white milk mixed with blood dripped into the baby’s mouth.

The little girl hungrily licked it without hesitation.

A child drinking their mother’s blood—this was something that had only happened during the Great Famine years.

No matter how much Sun Shufen despised Su Xiangwan, she was still a woman.

The original character, too ashamed to show her private suffering, had previously chosen to starve herself and her daughter rather than seek help.

At that moment, Sun Shufen transformed from a scornful rural woman into a Women’s Federation director determined to uphold justice.

So, Old Song was summoned.

The Women’s Federation director was going to stand up for Su Xiangwan.

“Big sister-in-law, your family isn’t poor. After all, your second son is a soldier, and the eldest worked outside and sent money back before he passed. Couldn’t you have figured out a way to buy some formula for the child?” Sun Shufen scolded.

Old Lady Song nodded furiously. “Buy, buy, buy! It’s just a can of formula. I’ll buy it, okay? Was there really a need to make such a fuss?”

Su Xiangwan could only sneer at this.

Because from the original character’s memories, she knew exactly what kind of person Old Lady Song was.

Old Lady Song hated Su Xiangwan and the child, Zizi, wishing both would die to satisfy her bitterness.

Years ago, Old Lady Song’s eldest son had a confidential job.

Shortly after marrying Su Xiangwan, he returned to work, leaving only a few days later.

When Su Xiangwan gave birth to twin boys, he regularly sent money home, allowing the family to live comfortably.

Two years ago, Old Lady Song’s eldest son took a rare leave but couldn’t leave Dongfeng City.

So he had his younger brother bring Su Xiangwan there. It was the first time the couple reunited in five years.

However, shortly after Su Xiangwan returned to Qinzhou, a letter arrived from Dongfeng City, announcing her husband’s sacrifice.

In Old Lady Song’s eyes, her eldest son—a pillar of the family, akin to a cash machine—had been cursed to death by Su Xiangwan and Zizi.

How could she not hate them?

“I don’t want formula; I want money,” Su Xiangwan said firmly.

“You’re crazy! There are over a dozen people in the family. The third son and his wife are still working as commune members in the village, and Qingyu needs a dowry to get married. Where would I get money for you?”

“Mom, let me ask you one thing: When my husband died, didn’t you find out from a letter sent home?” Su Xiangwan asked.

“Yes. His work was special, and I can’t read, so it was explained to me,” Old Lady Song replied.

“There’s a kind of work where you can’t tell your parents or spouse. But if one day a letter arrives from Republic Mailbox No. 10 with a martyr certificate and a remittance slip, it means that person has died. Do you want me to say the amount on that remittance slip?” Su Xiangwan spoke slowly and deliberately.

She wasn’t as impatient as the original character, choosing her words precisely: “The truth is, you only confirmed his death when you received the letter, the martyr certificate, and the remittance slip from Mailbox No. 10, right? But can you dare say in front of everyone the exact amount written on that slip?”

Old Lady Song’s heart skipped a beat.

That amount was enormous, something she dared not let anyone know.

“Fine! Stop talking. Just tell me—how much do you want?” Song Laotai asked.

Su Xiangwan held up three fingers. “Fifty. I want fifty yuan.”

“You’re crazy. Why don’t you just sell me and get fifty yuan for yourself to have fun?”

“Pfft, what I want is clear and justified. My husband is dead, my daughter is crying for milk powder, and my husband was a martyr. So I’m entitled to a portion of the compensation.”

Old Lady Song raised three fingers. “I’ll give you at most fifty cents. If you want more, there’s none.”

“Then I’ll shout into the loudspeaker that after Song Lao Da’s death, how much compensation did the country give you two old people?”

Su Xiangwan stood her ground.

At this point, the commune members outside were all watching curiously, wanting to know how much compensation a man could get after dying in a situation where no one spoke about it—father not reporting to parents, wife and children not informing anyone.

Old Lady Song was so angry she felt dizzy.

Fifty yuan, that’s one-tenth of the compensation.

She had hoped to use that money for her retirement, to get Lao San a formal job, and to prepare a dowry for Qingyu.

“Ten yuan. No more. If you dare ask for more, I’ll drink pesticide right now.”

If Old Lady Song really drank the pesticide, Su Xiangwan would be seen as the one who forced her mother-in-law to death. She wasn’t afraid.

“Ten yuan, fine. But I want you to hand it over in front of the Women’s Federation Director.”

Old Lady Song slapped her chest.

Ten yuan—nowadays, a worker only made at most eighteen yuan a month.

This wasn’t just cutting off her flesh, it was like digging her heart out.

She pulled out a large “unity” note and threw it on the ground, grabbed Qingyu, and turned to leave.

It was Gou dan who was quick enough to pick it up from the ground and handed it to his mother.

“Qingyu, did you see? Your sister-in-law is about to rebel. What are you going to do about it?”

Qingyu, also a widow, had returned to Songjia Village only because her mother-in-law had forced her out.

Now, seeing the situation, she couldn’t help but feel some sympathy. “She’s not doing easy, you know. She earns the most work points in the family every day. Even though she has three kids, it’s not all her burden. Mom, just give her a little help.”

“But she caused your brother’s death!” Old Lady Song sighed, tearing her chest. “My poor eldest son…”

“Then was it also me who caused Jin Gui’s death?” Qingyu rolled her eyes at her mother. “Enough, all the money from Big Brother isn’t it all in your hands? What difference does it make to give her ten yuan? Are you happy seeing little Zizhi starving to death?”

“It’s she who wants to starve Zizhi, so she can go to Dongfeng City to find your brother. Don’t you know?” Old Lady Song knew everything.