Chapter 12 – Comrade Fu, What a Coincidence

The man with the scruffy beard walked ahead carrying a straw mat, while Shen Mo’er and Shen Shaoyuan followed behind. Just as they were about to leave the market, a woman with a red armband stopped them. “Where are you going?”

“They want to buy bamboo mats,” the bearded man replied without hesitation. “I only brought straw mats today, so I’m taking them to my house to get some.”

The woman with the armband squinted at him. “You live in the commune?”

The bearded man chuckled. “Nah, it’s my brother-in-law who lives here. It’s a hassle to move stuff back and forth, so I keep it at his place.”

She didn’t say anything else, just looked Shen Mo’er and Shen Shaoyuan up and down for a while. Seeing how calm and composed they were, without the slightest sign of guilt or fear, she waved them on. “Go ahead.”

“Alright then,” the bearded man said cheerfully.

Once they turned a corner and the red armband lady was out of sight, he let out a breath of relief. “You two have nerves of steel. I was worried you’d give yourselves away.”

Shen Mo’er smiled sweetly. “But you didn’t lie, Uncle. We really do want to buy a bamboo mat.”

He nodded, then immediately shook his head, widening his eyes. “Hold on. I’m not that much older than you. Why are you calling me ‘Uncle’?”

Shen Mo’er blinked in surprise. “Shouldn’t I? You look older than my father.”

Shen Shaoyuan glanced at the bearded man and added with a hint of confusion, “You don’t look younger than me. What’s wrong with my daughter calling you Uncle?”

The bearded man turned to look at them both and found himself at a loss for words.

Sure, his full beard made him look older—but there was no denying it, Shen Shaoyuan was handsome and youthful. He didn’t look like someone old enough to have a grown daughter.

In fact, the only reason the bearded man had confirmed they were father and daughter was because he’d overheard a bit of their conversation earlier. Otherwise, they could easily be mistaken for siblings.

Even so, he wasn’t confident that shaving his beard would make him look younger than the man in front of him.

Instinctively, he touched his beard and felt a trace of weariness settle in.

The commune wasn’t small—not on par with the county town, of course—but it was still sizable. Liuqiao Commune had two collective-run factories. Between the original residents and the workers recruited by the factories, the population was quite large. The residential areas and factory dormitories were tightly packed, stretching as far as the eye could see.

The bearded man led Shen Mo’er and her father through the dormitory area of the textile factory, winding through alleys and side streets. After quite a bit of weaving around, he finally brought them into a small single-story house.

As soon as they entered, Shen Mo’er was hit with the rich aroma of food.

The house wasn’t big. Immediately to the right of the entrance was the stove. A woman in her thirties was tending the fire, with several stacked steamers on a large iron pot. The delicious smell was coming from inside the steamers.

Seeing unfamiliar faces walk in, the woman quickly got up from her small stool, looking nervously at the bearded man.

Now that he’d brought them home, the bearded man didn’t bother keeping secrets. “This is my sister. She’s steaming buns—scallion and meat ones are eight fen each, vegetarian ones five fen. More expensive than the state-run restaurant, but no ration coupons needed, so it’s still a good deal.”

Shen Mo’er hadn’t eaten since half a melon in the morning, so she was already starving. “Are they done? If so, I’ll take three meat and two veggie ones.”

“They’ll be ready in a minute,” the woman said quickly.

The bearded man gestured for them to come inside. “Two more minutes. In the meantime, come take a look at the cotton and bamboo mats.”

But rather than show them the items directly, he brought them inside, pointed to two stools for them to sit, then exited through the back door.

Shen Mo’er wasn’t surprised. For risky transactions like this, no one would leave their goods lying around in plain sight. Most likely, they had a hidden storage spot nearby.

She glanced around the room. It was sparsely furnished, with just a table and a few stools. She guessed this was a private little eatery, and the furniture was for diners.

On both side walls were several posters of the kind commonly seen at the time. The people in the posters were full of spirit and determination, with slogans like “Stay Alert, Defend the Motherland” and “Resolutely Follow the Path of Unity with Workers, Peasants, and Soldiers.”

The original host had seen these posters countless times, but it was Shen Mo’er’s first time seeing them up close. She was fascinated by the different brushwork compared to what she’d seen back in Daliang, and she stared at them with great interest.

Shen Shaoyuan also studied the posters for a while before whispering, “These are pretty interesting. I’ll study them some more another day and paint one like this for you.”

Father and daughter, on the same wavelength, both found the posters amusing.

At that moment, the bearded man returned. In one hand, he held a burlap sack; in the other, a rolled-up bamboo mat.

“There really aren’t two mats,” he said. “But take a look at the quality of this one. If it’s good enough, you can take it for now. I’m not just bragging—it’s super smooth and tightly woven!”

He unrolled the mat on the floor, then untied the sack. “The new cotton hasn’t come in yet, but this is from last year. It’s good stuff. Feel how soft it is, and look how white—pure snow white!”

Okay, now that’s bragging, Shen Mo’er thought, though she had to admit the quality was indeed excellent.

The bamboo mat was 3.80 yuan. The cotton was 1.20 yuan per jin. The sack contained eight jin of cotton, totaling 9.60 yuan. Add five buns at 0.34 yuan, and the grand total came to 13.74 yuan.

Shen Mo’er pulled out two large-denomination notes, then added some change—coins the original host and her father had scraped together—counted out exactly four fen, and handed it over. The bearded man quickly counted it and gave her the correct change.

The buns were ready. Since they were hot and aromatic, carrying them out would be inconvenient, so they decided to sit down and eat first.

Shen Mo’er had one meat and one veggie bun. Based on his usual appetite, she had bought two meat and one veggie bun for Shen Shaoyuan. After finishing those, he patted his belly and asked for another veggie bun.

Only then did Shen Mo’er realize—her father used to be a leisurely prince, never working a day in his life, so he hadn’t needed much food. But now things were different. Even if he was just pretending to work, he still had to go to the fields, carry water, chop wood. Of course his appetite would grow.

After finishing their buns, they grabbed the sack and the bamboo mat, ready to leave.

Suddenly, rhythmic knocking sounded on the door. The woman in the kitchen answered and rushed to open it.

“Qiao-jie, three meat buns, please.”

A man’s gentle and clear voice rang out.

Something about that voice struck Shen Mo’er as oddly familiar. Before she could think further, the man stepped inside. Sensing others in the room, he stopped abruptly at the threshold.

Face-to-face, they ran right into each other.

Shen Mo’er blinked in surprise, then instinctively gave him a once-over.

She had noticed him before—this Comrade Fu wore clothes patched all over, his shoes had a hole in the front, even exposing half a toe. He looked poor… so what was he doing here buying expensive buns? And not even the cheap veggie kind—he was buying meat buns.

Fu Mingze was just as stunned. He hadn’t expected to run into Shen Mo’er and her father here.

To be honest, he hadn’t paid them much attention before. It was only during the food distribution incident that he remembered them at all.

His first reaction was exactly the same as Shen Mo’er’s: Aren’t they supposed to be poor? They nearly starved over a few stolen grains—how could they be here buying things from Qiao-jie?

Then he remembered they must’ve overheard what he just said. Buying meat buns at a private eatery like this… If word got out, it could cause trouble.

An awkward silence fell.

But Shen Mo’er, confident because her money came from a legitimate source, was the first to speak. “Comrade Fu, what a coincidence.”

Fu Mingze gave her a nod. “It really is.”

Shen Mo’er took the initiative to explain, “Our house is leaking. The bedding and mats all got soaked and ruined. Cotton’s hard to find, so we traded for some from this gentleman.”

Even if everyone knew what was going on, they couldn’t call it buying and selling. Among the people, bartering was allowed by policy.

Fu Mingze hummed in understanding. Just then, Qiao-jie came over with a bowl holding three buns. He took it, chopsticks and all, feeling slightly awkward. After a pause, he added, “I helped someone write a letter a few days ago and got a few eggs as thanks. Heard Qiao-jie’s buns were good, so I came to trade for a few to treat myself.”

Strictly speaking, the two of them barely knew each other. But under these circumstances, they both instinctively tried to make it clear—

Yes, I’m really poor.
Yes, this encounter was purely accidental.