Chapter 2

“Grandma, do you want my mom to find me a stepfather?”

Before Yang Qiujin could respond, Tianyou, her son, entered the kitchen to drink water and almost spilled it when he heard this.

Yang Tianyou looked like Yang Qiujin, with large double-lidded eyes, a high nose, and a small mouth. He was very handsome, small and thin like his grandmother. Despite eating well, he couldn’t gain weight. His skin resembled his father, Chen Shengqing’s: fair and clean, not tanned despite being in the sun daily. If his hair weren’t cut short, he would look like a pretty little girl.

“Why, don’t you want your mother to live a good life?” Li Xiu’e quickly took the water from Tianyou’s hand and handed it to Yang Qiujin. “Don’t you know how hard it’s been for your mother? Your father has been gone for seven years. When your mother gave birth to you, she almost died from blood loss, and he never showed up. You’ve caused your mother so much trouble over the years, making her cry. You never listen to what your grandma and mother say. If your father is truly dead, what reason would I have to keep her in our house? A woman should marry while she’s still young to live a better life.”

“Then I’ll follow my mom to my stepfather’s house,” Tianyou said, blinking his round eyes.

“That won’t work. You have to stay here,” Li Xiu’e replied while peeling bamboo shoots. “It’s unreasonable for a woman to remarry with a boy. It would make her husband’s family dislike her. Your grandma is still alive, so you should stay with her.”

“I don’t want to! I don’t want to stay with grandma, I want to stay with mommy!” Tianyou said loudly, his eyes reddening.

Tianyou, usually playful and a bit silly, knew who truly cared for him. Although his mother was stricter and often scolded him, it was only because he misbehaved. When he was good, his mother spoiled him with rare treats like meat, toys, and clothes. She would carry him around, sing to him, and praise him for being a good child.

Although his grandmother treated him kindly, her food didn’t taste as good as his mother’s. She never scolded him openly; instead, she would comfort him in private. His grandmother was a kind, timid person, who often let others walk all over her.

His mother was different, with a strong, fiery temper who wouldn’t let others bully her or him. He admired her for standing up for herself.

He didn’t understand what “shrew” meant, but he liked that his mother fought back. He wanted to stay with her.

Since his birth, Tianyou had never seen his father and had no concept of him. When Yang Qiujin considered remarrying, Tianyou had no objection—he just wanted to be with his mother.

Yang Qiujin took a sip of cool mountain spring water from the bowl, and when she saw her son crying, she wiped his tears, feeling both amused and sad. “Okay, who said mom is remarrying? Your grandma was just teasing you. You are my child, and I will never not want you.”

She put the bowl down and continued peeling bamboo shoots. “Mom, don’t believe the village gossip. Shengqing is a soldier. Soldiers need to keep their missions secret, so it’s normal to not have news for years. If he died, the state would give us a pension, and the leaders of the county and commune would visit us with a martyr’s certificate. But they haven’t come. Those gossiping women are just jealous of the money Shengqing sends every month, and they envy our life. It’s not easy for any family these days—who would send money just to support the families of their comrades? Tell me who spread these rumors, and I’ll shut them up!”

Li Xiu’e didn’t fully believe the gossip, though. She was illiterate and timid, so she would often believe what others told her.

However, after hearing her educated daughter-in-law’s explanation, Li Xiu’e felt reassured. She knew her third son was smart and capable—one of the only two high school graduates in the village—and she believed he couldn’t be dead.

She knew her daughter-in-law had a short temper and wouldn’t tolerate any losses. Worried that a quarrel with the gossiping women in the village would ensue, she hesitated and quickly made up an excuse to avoid the matter, urging Yang Qiujin to prepare breakfast instead.

In the smoky kitchen, Yang Qiujin sliced the freshly peeled bamboo shoots in half and threw them into a pot of boiling water to cook.

From 100 kilograms of bamboo shoots in their shells, only around 50 kilograms of edible bamboo shoot flesh would remain after peeling. After boiling them for a few minutes, she removed them and dried them. In the end, the dried bamboo shoots weighed less than 2 kilograms.

Chen Shengqing hadn’t written home for two years, and Yang Qiujin wasn’t sure if he was still at the original address, so she decided not to send him the dried bamboo shoots this year.

She removed the bamboo shoots from the pot, cut most of them into thumb-sized strips, and put them in a bamboo winnowing basket to dry outside. She packed half of the remaining bamboo shoots to give to her mother’s family and kept the other half for herself.

After cooking the bamboo shoots, soak them in cold water to remove the bitterness and turn them a light yellow.

Yang Qiujin casually picked up some bamboo shoots, sliced them, then picked some garlic sprouts from her garden and a few dried red peppers hanging under the eaves. She heated some oil in a pot, added the bamboo shoots, and stir-fried them for a while. She then added garlic sprouts, red peppers, salt, and MSG. The combination of the bamboo shoots’ fragrance with the garlic and spicy peppers filled the kitchen. The dish was spooned into a plate, so aromatic that Tianyou, who had been watching, began drooling.

“Mom, I’m so hungry.”

“Don’t grab the vegetables with your hands. It’s impolite. Go wash your hands, and I’ll grab some kimchi to cut. Then we can eat.”

Yang Qiujin knew exactly what Tianyou was up to even without looking. She glared at him as he obediently walked over to the water tank in the yard to wash his hands. She took out a small bowl and went to the kitchen window to get some kimchi from a large jar.

Almost every family in the southwest made kimchi, but the taste and texture varied from home to home.

Yang Qiujin had been a skilled cook since childhood, and she was excellent at it. As soon as she opened the kimchi jar, a strong sour and spicy aroma filled the air, making her mouth water.

She took out a few pieces of pickled radish skins, along with some pickled vegetables, red peppers, and young ginger. After covering the jar, she brought it to the chopping board, cut it into two-finger-wide pieces, added sugar and MSG, then a spoonful of chili oil, and mixed everything with a bit of cold sauce. The sour, spicy, and slightly sweet kimchi was ready.

For breakfast, they had leftover sweet potato porridge from the night before, which Yang Qiujin reheated. She and her mother-in-law each had a large bowl, while Tianyou had a small bowl. They sat around the wooden table in the yard.

“Eating porridge again,” Tianyou said, frowning when he saw it. “I don’t like it.”

“Other families don’t even have enough to eat, and you’re being picky. Eat quickly,” Yang Qiujin said, placing a piece of pickled radish skin into his bowl. She lightly tapped his head with her chopsticks. “Other families can’t even get a full meal, let alone porridge made from fine rice. Be thankful.”

In recent years, famine and hunger had caused many people in the Pioneer Brigade to starve to death. Though life had improved recently, every family still lived frugally.

In many families, adults and children could only eat until they were about 60% to 70% full at each meal. A bowl of thin porridge with only a few grains of rice was nothing like Yang Qiujin’s porridge, which was thick and hearty. She used refined rice because coarse rice hurt the throat, and she feared it would upset Tianyou and her mother-in-law.

Yang Qiujin believed that one didn’t need fine clothes, but they must eat well to have the energy to work. Therefore, she always made sure there was enough food.

After marrying Chen Shengqing, he sent money home on time every month. After deducting the money given to her mother-in-law, she still had plenty left. Yang Qiujin wasn’t like other women in the village who were tight with their money.

She took care of all the shopping, food, and drink, and made sure her family had plenty. As a result, Tianyou had become picky about food, refusing to eat certain things.

This was why many women in the brigade envied, hated, and admired Yang Qiujin. Many families were struggling to feed themselves, but her family had not only good food but also a picky child!

Picky eater! How extravagant!

Tianyou didn’t like porridge because he thought it was too sticky and bland.

No one knew a child better than his mother. Yang Qiujin understood him well and had many ways to discipline him. She would not indulge his pickiness, no matter how much she wanted to give him food and drink.

If he didn’t like the porridge, she would add his favorite sweet potato cubes to it. If he didn’t want it, she would add his favorite kimchi. She didn’t believe he couldn’t eat it.

Tianyou also knew that if he didn’t eat what his mother made, there would be consequences. She might stop making sweet potato porridge for months or make it every day until he couldn’t stand it.

He quietly scooped a mouthful of porridge, eating a piece of sweet, soft yellow-heart sweet potato. These were special sweet potatoes that Yang Qiujin had improved and planted in their field. Unlike the white-heart sweet potatoes grown in the village, these were fragrant and sweet, while the others were flavorless and often choked when eaten. After one bite, you had to pound your chest to keep from choking. He had no idea what variety of sweet potato his mother grew.

Tianyou, who had just complained about not wanting porridge, ended up finishing an entire bowl, alongside the spicy, crispy radish skin and bamboo shoots.