Chapter 12: Busy Farming Season

Soon, the call for the busy farming season echoed through the brigade.

He Yashu had gone early to the old Zhong family to arrange to help with cooking during the busy period. The Zhong family was very happy—after all, the farming season was truly exhausting. Zhang Xiuying handed over all the household’s cash and ration coupons to He Yashu for safekeeping. The two sisters-in-law had no objections. It was collective money anyway, so there was no need to fuss about everyone eating together.

He Yashu was quite pleased with the trust they gave her. Every day, she would come to the old Zhong household to prepare lunch and dinner.

“Yashu, you don’t need to make everything so lavish every day. Just a filling lunch is enough,” said Zhang Xiuying, a bit distressed as she looked at the big bone soup and meat dumplings on the table. She was sure the money she gave wasn’t enough for such extravagant meals every day.

“Exactly, sister-in-law. You don’t need to cover for us. If we have money, we eat more. If we don’t, we eat less,” said Zhang Dafen, realizing how much He Yashu had contributed these days. Everyone nodded in agreement.

“We should still eat well during the farming season. I haven’t paid for much of this. For example, the flour came from the old Zhang family, and the meat money too. I haven’t spent a penny of my own,” He Yashu was growing increasingly fond of this family’s temperament.

“That’s still stuff they took from you. You should save your money for yourself and Lingling,” grumbled Old Man Zhong, disapproving. His youngest son hadn’t come home in years—mother and daughter had been wronged long enough.

“Dad, Mom, I’m planning to take Lingling to see her father in a few days. Youliang wrote and said he wanted to see her,” said He Yashu, feeling a bit overwhelmed as everyone looked at her disapprovingly. She quickly changed the subject.

Sure enough, everyone was distracted by the news.

“Mom, does Dad miss me? When are we going?” asked little Zhong Ling excitedly.

“In a few days,” said He Yashu, gently stroking her daughter’s now-chubbier cheek.

“Youliang is really something. All these years and only now he writes?” Old Man Zhong was both happy and angry. He felt his son lacked responsibility—neglecting his wife and child for so long.

“Dad, I think he was out on a mission. It was classified; he couldn’t tell us,” He Yashu tried to defend him.

“Yashu, is it really safe for you to take the child alone? Why don’t Youguo accompany you with Lingling?” asked Zhang Xiuying, worried.

“No need, Mom. It’s just one child—I can manage. Big Brother needs to earn labor points every day, and he still has three kids to support. Once we get there, Youliang will come to pick us up,” He Yashu didn’t want to trouble them. In this era, every work point mattered.

Everyone finally gave up persuading her and began discussing what gifts to bring for Zhong Youliang. Little Zhong Ling, full of joy, excitedly talked with her older cousins about what they’d do when they met her father. The older boys, being a bit older, still had memories of their uncle and shared stories, which made little Zhong Ling even more eager to meet her dad.

When Zhong Youliang received his wife’s letter, this tough, upright man couldn’t help but shed tears. He had married He Yashu under pressure—Zhang’s Iron Egg had pushed her into his arms in front of everyone. For her reputation, he had no choice but to marry her. He had once dreamed of what his wife would be like, and seeing Yashu’s timid demeanor had left him disappointed.

But none of that outweighed the guilt of not returning home for four years—or the fact that his daughter, now three, had never seen her father. They say reading a letter is like seeing the person, and looking at his wife’s letter, he felt both guilt and anticipation. He knew she had changed—cutting ties with the Zhang family showed independence. And he admired that…