Chapter 5 – The Female Military Doctor of the 1950s

April 20th.

It was Grain Rain, the last solar term of spring.

It also happened to be the warm house blessing day carefully chosen by Uncle Tun.

Early that morning, relatives showed up one after another, and neighbors came bearing gifts.

One family brought sorghum; another gifted bowls and chopsticks.

What surprised Xu Wanchun most was that someone even came carrying matches as a congratulatory gesture.

Later, her adoptive mother explained that matches symbolized “adding firewood (wealth) and fire (life).”

All in all, the entire nuanwu (warm house blessing) process was eye-opening for Xu Wanchun.

From burning the wok base, scattering five grains, and posting red paper, to Grandpa Xu Dagen lighting the first stove fire, and then cooking a pot of sticky rice to symbolize family unity—the banquet was officially ready to begin.

Because of her divorce, Xu Hehua had always been the subject of gossip in the village.

To ensure peace in the days to come, there were some things she simply couldn’t scrimp on.

Stewed pork with vermicelli, sauerkraut and pork belly, braised fish with tofu, chicken stew with mushrooms, stir-fried seasonal veggies—altogether a full eight dishes.

Though there was less meat than vegetables, the meal was still better than what many families ate for the New Year.

Whether relatives or neighbors, everyone had smiles of satisfaction when they saw the food being served.

And that was exactly the effect Xu Hehua was going for—after all, it’s hard to criticize someone who’s fed you well.

Their village, Xujiatun, didn’t have any tradition of women being forbidden from sitting at the table, but as the host, Xu Hehua stayed in the kitchen to manage everything.

Naturally, Xu Wanchun, just a little kid, wasn’t allowed at the table either.

It was also then that she learned her adoptive mother had six siblings—an older brother, an older sister, two younger brothers, and a younger sister.

Only the youngest sister, who had married off to a town eighty miles away, didn’t come. The rest were all there.

Each sibling brought along one or two kids, all crammed into the kitchen now, waiting to sneak a taste before the food officially hit the table.

Xu Wanchun was tempted, of course, but at her core, she was still an adult. She had self-control and didn’t join in the scuffle with the other little ones. Instead, she helped her adoptive mother and just nibbled on a bun to tide herself over.

She had assumed she wouldn’t get anything tasty—after all, the dishes on the table were wiped clean.

But unexpectedly, after seeing all the guests off, her adoptive mother pulled out two ceramic jars from the very bottom of the cupboard.

Xu Wanchun came over for a look and saw they contained stewed sauerkraut with big pork bones and black fish soup. She exclaimed with delight, “Mama, did you hide these ahead of time?”

Xu Hehua grinned smugly. “Of course. I might treat others generously, but I’m not about to shortchange myself. Just wait—I’ll go heat it up.”

This was exactly the kind of personality Xu Wanchun liked. She responded brightly, “I’ll go get the bowls and chopsticks!”

The generosity of the warm house banquet did, in fact, earn them goodwill in return.

In the days that followed, various aunties would stop by to chat now and then.

And because Xu Hehua had just moved back to Xujiatun and hadn’t had time to plant vegetables, these aunties rarely came empty-handed.

One would bring a few potatoes, another a cabbage—small things, but together they signified the villagers’ acceptance of the mother and daughter.

Of course, there were still some old-fashioned types who clung to outdated ideas and made critical, condescending remarks.

But neither Xu Hehua nor her daughter paid them any mind.

Time passed amid the noisy chaos and bustle, and soon it was May 10th.

Spring planting was coming to an end, and it just so happened to be market day.

Before the sun was even up, Xu Wanchun was yanked out of bed by her mother and dressed up.

She was put into a floral dress, along with a pair of cloth shoes embroidered with little flowers and fastened with buckles.

And when she saw that her adoptive mother was about to tie a pigtail on her barely-one-centimeter-short hair, Xu Wanchun yelped, grabbed her head, and ran.

…her rejection was written all over her face.

“All right, all right, I won’t tie it. Don’t go running and trip,” Xu Hehua said as she locked the red ribbon back in the cupboard.

Xu Wanchun, already out of the bedroom, peeked her head back in through the door. “Really?”

Xu Hehua shot her daughter a look. “Really, really. Now go wash up, you little rascal—so annoying.” She truly didn’t get it. Don’t all little girls love having their hair tied up in pigtails? Yet her own little gremlin refused every time, wasting the pretty ribbons she’d specially bought.

Xu Wanchun, unaware of her adoptive mother’s silent complaints, saw that she was no longer being watched, and cheerfully skipped off to the kitchen.

There would be all kinds of food at the market, so Xu Hehua planned to indulge her daughter a little and only had them eat a couple of bites before heading out.

As they passed by the neighbor’s house, the mother-daughter pair stopped to call for Su Nan.

Doctor Cao had to make house calls that day and didn’t feel at ease letting his wife go out alone, so the two families had agreed the night before to go to market together.

Sure enough, after hearing the noise, Su Nan quickly came out with a basket on her back.

She was so stunning that before going out, she had darkened her face and dressed in plain, aged-looking clothes to tone it down.

Xu Wanchun stared at her face for a long moment, curious about what kind of potion she used.

Su Nan bent down and playfully pinched her cheek. “Don’t recognize me anymore?”

Xu Wanchun’s eyes curved into a smile, revealing a row of white little millet-like teeth. “Good morning, Auntie.”

“Aiyah, good morning to our little Taohua, too.” After nearly a month of getting along, even the outwardly cool but inwardly warm Su Nan had developed genuine affection for this child—after all, she was just too sweet and well-behaved.

But more importantly, Taohua was well-mannered.

Suddenly remembering something, Su Nan slapped her forehead and said, “Wait a sec!” before hurrying back inside.

About one or two minutes later, she returned and gently placed a little floral hat onto the girl’s head.

With her short hair now covered, the child looked even more delicate and sweet. Su Nan nodded in satisfaction. “Our little Taohua is really beautiful.”

After a month of nourishing meals, Xu Wanchun had gained a few pounds.

She was still quite underweight compared to normal, but she had gone from a bean sprout to at least a soybean sprout.

Maybe not quite “beautiful,” but definitely no longer “ugly” or “scrawny.” That alone was worth celebrating!

Xu Wanchun touched the little hat on her head, grinning even brighter. “Thank you, Auntie.”

Seeing that the hat was made of patchwork scraps and probably hadn’t cost much, Xu Hehua relaxed and teasingly scolded, “Nan-jie, you really go out of your way.”

Su Nan smiled gently. “It’s because Taohua is just too lovable.”

She had only one child in this life—Cao Jingliang. The boy had been well-behaved and sensible since young. But last year, after liberation, her husband’s older brother, who had been busy fighting in the war, came to visit and persuaded her husband to return to public service.

Her husband didn’t budge—but unexpectedly, their 16-year-old son, already quite skilled in medicine, insisted on going.

Such youthful passion and patriotism! All he wanted was to serve the country with what he’d learned.

And just like that, he had been gone a year.

Thinking of this, Su Nan’s face grew wistful. That rascal hadn’t sent a letter in three months…

The market was held in town.

Every 5th, 10th, and 15th day of the month, villagers from the surrounding areas would gather there.

Cash was rarely used—most trading was done through bartering.

But there were too many people. Holding a sesame flatbread in her arms and chewing on it, Xu Wanchun was wedged tightly between her adoptive mother and Aunt Su, barely able to see anything interesting.

Well, not exactly—there was something…

Not that she saw nothing interesting.

She actually witnessed a real-life matchmaking scene at the 1950s market.

A young man and woman pretending to browse sewing supplies but clearly too shy—both of their faces red as cloth, fumbling for words, barely able to speak. Their awkwardness had their chaperoning elders fuming in frustration, and Xu Wanchun almost laughed herself into a stomachache while secretly watching.

But her amusement didn’t last long.

As they passed a grain stall, Xu Hehua exchanged a bolt of cloth for 80 jin of sorghum, which she tied to the donkey’s back. Then, without warning, she picked up Wanchun and handed her over.

Xu Wanchun was confused. “Mom?”

“It’s fine,” Xu Hehua casually brushed off her daughter’s concern, then turned to the grain vendor. “Uncle, weigh the kid for me, see if she’s gained any weight.”

Clearly not his first time doing this, the uncle didn’t say a word. He pulled out a hemp rope, tied it around the little girl’s waist, hooked her up to the scale, and easily lifted her into the air before loudly announcing, “28 jin and 6 liang—nice and tall!”

His voice boomed across the market, loud enough to startle the dead. People all around turned to look.

Xu Wanchun was horrified. She hadn’t expected this humiliation—and he had to yell it?! She clutched her face in social-death-level embarrassment.

“Still too light! Not even as heavy as a piglet, huh? Now you’re shy? You’re just a little bean, how come you’re so easily embarrassed?” Laughing uncontrollably, Xu Hehua took her daughter back and sat her on the donkey.

I may be small, but I have my dignity, Wanchun grumbled to herself, choosing to go mute for the next five minutes.

Su Nan, having long since noticed that this little girl was a bit more mature than her age, saw her cheeks flush red and quickly changed the subject with a smile. “There’s someone doing shadow puppetry over there. Want to go take a look, Taohua?”

Xu Wanchun wasn’t especially interested in shadow puppets—but she was desperate to escape her mother’s nonstop laughter, so she grudgingly nodded.

But they never made it to the show. Su Nan suddenly spotted the village postman and rushed after him, full of excitement.

She hadn’t expected anything, just a sliver of hope, but to her surprise, there were letters—four of them, in fact.

She carefully retrieved her official stamp from her chest pocket and marked the receipts before receiving all four letters. Her whole face lit up.

But the market was too crowded to read them there. Picking up on this, Xu Hehua tactfully asked, “I’ve traded what I need. Nan-jie, do you still have errands after selling your herbs?”

Su Nan, grateful and genuinely warmed by the gesture, replied, “No, that’s all.”

“Good. After we stop by the clinic, let’s head home,” Xu Hehua said.

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De Yuan Clinic.

This was the place Xu Wanchun had been most looking forward to.

Out of courtesy, she and her mother stood a little ways off from Su Nan, so she didn’t catch how much her herbs sold for.

But during that short time, several herb gatherers came in to sell, and from the snippets she overheard, Xu Wanchun pieced together the market prices.

For example:

• Licorice root: 0.2 to 0.5 yuan per jin, depending on quality.
• Schisandra berries: 0.4 to 0.7 yuan per jin.
• Astragalus: 0.3 to 0.8 yuan per jin.

She didn’t hear the prices of everything, but it was enough to fire her up.

Over the past few days, she’d been shamelessly tagging along with Doctor Cao, becoming his little shadow, and had learned to identify over a dozen herbs.

Maybe tomorrow, when she went foraging wild greens with her mother, she could start collecting medicinal herbs too!

She wasn’t the protagonist of some novel—she wouldn’t dare dream of stumbling across ginseng or anything—but harvesting common herbs and earning 3 to 5 yuan a month? That was actually possible.

And don’t underestimate 3 or 5 yuan—that’d buy over 10 jin of pork! If they bought chicken or fish instead, they could stretch it even further.

The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to act immediately.

“What are you thinking about? Time to head home.” Xu Hehua lifted her daydreaming daughter back onto the donkey, quietly wondering to herself: Why doesn’t this girl like to play with the other village kids? You can’t even chase her over there. All she does is daydream.

Snapping out of her thoughts, Xu Wanchun realized Su Nan had already returned. She couldn’t exactly say she’d been dreaming about eating meat every day, so she just grinned and said, “Nothing! Let’s go home! Let’s go home!”

In a good mood, Su Nan pinched the now chubbier little girl’s cheek and teased, “Taohua’s awfully excited to go home, huh?”

Xu Wanchun giggled. “Aren’t you too, Auntie?”

Su Nan really was eager to get back. An hour later, just as they arrived home and Xu Hehua was unloading supplies from the donkey, Su Nan couldn’t wait any longer and tore open one of the letters.

While Xu Wanchun was happily chewing the malt candy her mother had bought her, a small piece of paper fluttered down onto her shoe.

She blinked, picked it up on instinct—and realized it was a two-inch black-and-white photo.

In the photo was a teenage boy in military uniform. His features were sharp like blades, but there was a gentleness about him too—like blooming crabapple blossoms.

A striking mix of coldness and warmth.

What a handsome young man.