Lin Hongying made dinner with pork belly and high-gluten flour. The braised pork in the cafeteria was too lean, with only a thin layer of fat, so she hadn’t enjoyed it much.  

But the pork belly in front of her now had a fat layer a full three fingers wide—snow-white, glossy, tender, and succulent, reflecting a soft glow like freshly fallen snow.  

This was undoubtedly top-tier pork belly, the kind that would make people fight over it outside.  

Swallowing her saliva, Lin Hongying deftly began preparing the meat.  

If only I had some eggs… The braised pork would release its rich oils, slowly simmering into an amber hue. The entire pot would be coated in a thick, caramelized sauce, with all the essence concentrated in that rich broth. Adding a few eggs would allow them to soak up the savory sweetness of the meat juices. The soft, crumbly yolks, dipped in the sauce, could easily help her finish two bowls of rice.  

As for the flour, she could make flatbread and stick it to the sides of the pot to soak up the braised pork sauce—a feast of carbs and fat, delivering the ultimate delight to her taste buds.  

Just as Lin Hongying thought, If only I had eggs… they appeared right before her eyes.  

Her eyes widened in shock!  

A pound of smooth, pale pink eggs materialized in front of her, each one plump and of premium quality. The price displayed on them was ten cents per pound.  

At this moment, Lin Hongying’s gratitude toward those gossipy military wives reached its peak!  

She had always believed in reasoning things out and disliked quarreling.  

But now, Lin Hongying felt that maybe… she could adjust her approach.  

Immediately, she swiftly exchanged for five pounds of rice.  

She tried thinking of other things—winter coats for warmth… but while the exchange page showed cotton-padded jackets, they were grayed out and locked, with the price displayed as a row of question marks.  

She attempted socks, gloves, and thermal pants, but none could be exchanged. Lin Hongying guessed she probably hadn’t accumulated enough resentment. Scrolling over the items, a note appeared: “Unlock requires over 5,000 resentment points.”

Did this mean other things could be exchanged too? Lin Hongying wondered.  

She silently chanted, “Yun-10 blueprints.” Good heavens—it actually appeared!  

(The Shanghai Y-10, also known as Yun-10, was a four-engine narrow-body jet airliner developed in China during the 1970s.)

Except even the schematic image was completely pixelated. Lin Hongying guessed the cost must be astronomical.  

Closing the page, she turned her attention back to the pot. The original owner’s body hadn’t tasted meat in so long that she was practically skin and bones, frail as a sheet of paper. Watching the meat simmering in the pot, every cell in her body screamed with hunger.  

The flickering flames licked the bottom of the pot gently, coaxing out the rich flavors of the meat. The savory juices gradually melded with the aroma of the braised pork and the fragrance of the flour. By the time the meat was done, the eggs would be cooked through, and the flatbread stuck to the pot’s edges would have wrinkled from soaking up the sweet sauce.  

The pot of rice bubbled noisily, its steam carrying an indescribably comforting fragrance of fresh grains.  

While waiting for the meat to finish, Lin Hongying opened the wardrobe and randomly grabbed one of Shao Qingfeng’s overcoats.  

She sneezed—it was freezing! Even huddled by the stove, she still shivered uncontrollably. Though Shao Qingfeng had bought her new clothes after she arrived here, Lin Hongying, accustomed to warmth, found a single layer insufficient against the cold.  

Inside the wardrobe, the clothes were neatly pressed and arranged—some folded into perfect squares, others hung on hangers.  

Shao Qingfeng had a closet full of shirts and overcoats, sorted by shade from light to dark, making it easy to see that the owner was a man of cleanliness, precision, and refined elegance.  

She stripped off the original owner’s tattered clothes and put on Shao Qingfeng’s military coat. The thick, warm overcoat enveloped her completely, and with every breath, she inhaled his scent. The masculine aura made her feel somewhat uneasy.  

Lin Hongying swore to herself—once she saved up enough resentment, she had to buy a few down jackets.  

Once the braised pork sauce had reduced, Lin Hongying, now snug in warm clothes, devoured the meat with gusto. The pork belly was tender and flavorful, the fat melting at the slightest touch—rich but not greasy. The flatbread provided a satisfying fullness, while the solidified proteins delivered an unparalleled pleasure to her stomach, something the lean meat from the cafeteria could never match!  

The braised eggs had a soft, crumbly yolk, sweetened by the meat juices and warming her heart with every bite. Pouring a ladle of the sauce over the rice made it so fragrant it was almost intoxicating!  

Lin Hongying ate like a starved wolf, one mouthful after another. By the time she finished over half the pot, she was so full she couldn’t help but let out a satisfied burp.  

Finally, she leaned back in her chair, patting her stuffed belly contentedly as she gazed out the window at the thick snow that seemed to seep cold into the air. Inside, the stove burned warmly, and the kettle bubbled with steam, filling the frigid room with a cozy warmth.  

At this moment, the sheer bliss of being full nearly moved her to tears.  

…

After eating and drinking her fill, Lin Hongying exchanged resentment points for five pounds of cornmeal.

The cornmeal cost seven cents per pound, totaling 35 resentment points. She planned to repay the “debts” left by the original owner.  

When Shao Qingfeng was around, the original owner had indeed lived a decent life. But after he left for a mission and didn’t return for a month, people noticed she was quiet, withdrawn, and easy to bully. The snide remarks in the military compound grew louder.  

Some said she wasn’t even married yet but was already eating fine grains every day, living off Shao Qingfeng’s resources. Others accused her of clinging to him through an arranged marriage, becoming a nuisance.  

After recovering from her illness, the original owner immediately found odd jobs to support herself.  

Granny Xu had trouble getting around, and her husband’s family was too busy with work. The Zhengs were decent people and agreed to pay the original owner thirty pounds of grain and twenty yuan a month to do housework for them.  

The original owner had taken an advance of five pounds of cornmeal and ten yuan in wages, helping the elderly fetch water, chop firewood, tend the stove, and clean—handling every little chore meticulously.  

Lin Hongying had no intention of continuing the original owner’s work. Carrying the five pounds of cornmeal, she arrived at Brigade Commander Zheng’s house.  

As soon as she stepped inside, memories flashed in her mind like slides.  

The original owner had been dazzled when she first entered the Zheng household. The floors were covered in gleaming, spotless tiles. An expensive radio sat on the table, alongside a large horn-shaped gramophone. A high-wattage lamp, shaped like a flower, illuminated the room brilliantly.  

Every corner was wiped clean, reflecting the owners’ refined taste. Where had she ever seen such a beautiful home?  

She had even worried whether her shoes carried mud or dust, hastily taking them off at the door for fear of dirtying the pristine floor. Yet her cautious behavior only earned her scornful looks.  

Those looks burned her ears red with shame, making her too embarrassed to lift her head.  

The memory faded, and Lin Hongying steadied her emotions.  

She glanced around. The family was well-off, with some taste, but far from truly cultured.  

The Zhengs owned many valuable items. On her first day here, the Zheng daughter-in-law had scolded her for being too rough, claiming she’d broken their radio by pressing the buttons too hard.  

Radios weren’t cheap—this one cost 130 yuan. To the original owner, that was an unimaginable sum, a crushing burden. After that, she became even more withdrawn.  

In Lin Hongying’s eyes, using the price of a radio to intimidate a girl fresh from the countryside was nothing but bullying.  

Besides, this radio looked old. Its malfunction couldn’t be entirely blamed on the original owner.  

Lin Hongying returned the five pounds of cornmeal along with five yuan to Granny Xu.  

“Granny Xu, I’m planning to find a proper job, so I won’t be able to come here often anymore. Thank you for your kindness during this time.”

Granny Xu adjusted her reading glasses and looked at Lin Hongying in surprise.  

This country girl was smiling today, holding her head high—gone was the bitter, timid demeanor that made her seem perpetually on the verge of tears. For the first time, people could see her clearly.  

Her features were actually quite pleasant: dark, expressive eyes and cherry-red lips. Granny Xu found her rather pleasing to look at, not at all as dowdy or unsightly as rumors suggested. Before, she had always kept her head down, speaking in a voice as faint as a mosquito’s, leaving a poor impression.  

Truthfully, with a little more meat on her bones, she’d be quite pretty.  

“Alright, alright. Hongying, work hard. What kind of job are you looking for?”

Lin Hongying replied, “Something related to agriculture, I think. Maybe at a farm.”

Granny Xu tried to refuse the repayment but eventually accepted the cornmeal, though she wouldn’t take the money. “Farm work is tough… but a farm is good. Our Production and Construction Corps is hiring… you could check there.”

Lin Hongying borrowed a bicycle from Granny Xu, who agreed readily. “What’s the big deal? If you need it in the future, just take it.”

Lin Hongying then said, “Last time, I accidentally damaged your family’s radio while cleaning it. Today, I brought some tools to see if I can fix it.”  

Every bachelor’s home had a toolbox, and Shao Qingfeng was no exception. Lin Hongying had spotted it and brought it along.  

“Oh—Hongying, don’t touch that! You don’t understand these things, you might break it further!”

Granny Xu had just poured her a cup of hot tea when she turned to see Lin Hongying dismantling the radio.  

Last time, the machine had broken after the girl wiped it with a cloth. If she took it apart now, it might be beyond repair.  

Lin Hongying pulled out a screwdriver and began unscrewing the broken radio with practiced ease.  

She patted the stool beside her and smiled. “Granny Xu, don’t worry. Just sit and watch. If I break it, I’ll make sure to compensate you.”

Her deft hands worked confidently, as if she’d disassembled countless radios before. There was an innate assurance about her—as if she were born to do this.  

Her thin face was full of focus, her dark eyes clear and pure like precious black gemstones. As she bent her head, a slender neck peeked out from the oversized coat, looking fragile yet determined.