Chapter 17 – Greenhouse Planting Completed

A beautiful day began with the first crow of the rooster.

By now, Wang Yi had developed the habit of waking up early and didn’t need her mother to call her.

Mornings in Northeast China in November were still very cold. Though it hadn’t snowed yet, the air itself carried the chill.

She remembered Li Xueqin saying that the air in the Northeast always has a cold flavor. Indeed, for every Northeasterner, only someone from the region can truly understand it. Words alone cannot describe it.

Wang Yi opened the door to go to the toilet. The only drawback of living in the Northeast was that toilets were outdoors — very cold.

Northeastern toilets had their quirks: in winter, your backside froze; in summer, mosquitoes bit it. Year after year, the backside suffered.

Now, with the new house, the toilet was indoors. Don’t assume it’s like any other building; Northeastern houses have their own style.

Don’t think of us Northeasterners as primitive people.

When Wang Yi stepped outside, she was stunned by the view.

Frosted trees — called “shuaguaer” in local dialect, scientifically known as rime — formed because of the low temperature and abundant moisture in the air.

They looked best on willow trees, each branch covered in ice crystals. No two crystals were alike — like snowflakes.

Under sunlight, the rime sparkled beautifully, flashing brightly. But you couldn’t stare too long, or your eyes would hurt.

Once the sun rose higher, the rime would disappear. Even if fleeting, this beauty was unique to the Northeast.

Outside, everything was a vast white expanse — breathtaking.

Wang Yi took out her phone and started snapping photos, sending them to her roommates and her brother — anyone who hadn’t seen it yet.

If she didn’t show off now, when could she?

Wang Yi wasn’t a great photographer, but the scenery was so beautiful that any shot looked impressive.

Her friends, none of whom were from the Northeast, reacted with excitement:
“Wow, so beautiful! I want to go to the Northeast.”

After sending all the photos, her fingers were numb from the cold. She quickly rushed to the toilet — showing off had its limits!

As she entered the house, warm air rushed out. In a few days, if your hands were wet, you couldn’t touch the doorknob — otherwise, your hand would stick. Unlike sticking your tongue to metal, which was another matter entirely.

If your hand stuck, just pull it off; your hand wouldn’t be harmed. You’d only leave a fresh white fingerprint on the knob.

If your tongue stuck, don’t pull it — you’d peel a layer of skin. The correct method was to pour 60°C warm water over the spot slowly until it loosened.

Don’t ask us how we know this — guess!

Wang Yi checked her phone. Many friends were clamoring to visit the Northeast. She told them to come on December 28, during the Chagan Lake winter fishing festival, so they could experience the local fishing culture.

She wanted them to see that although the Northeast was cold, the people were warm and welcoming.

Wang Yi happily replied to each friend’s message.

Then she ran to the kitchen to talk to her father.
“Dad, many of my friends want to visit, especially for the Chagan Lake winter fishing.”

Her father laughed heartily. “Great! Then we must treat them well.”

Her mother stayed home to prepare lunch and didn’t go to the greenhouse that day. Wang Yi went with her father.

He called five aunties to prepare for planting strawberries and wild vegetables.

Everyone put on thick cotton jackets and rode the farm tricycle toward the fields.

On the way, the scenery with trees hanging over the fields was breathtaking. Wang Yi was excited like a child.

When they reached the strawberry greenhouse, it was warm inside. The strawberry seedlings had already been placed there by Wang Yi and her father yesterday, so today it was just time to get to work.

The aunties skillfully planted the strawberry seedlings, and Wang Yi helped alongside them.

Her father led two aunties to work in the greenhouse for wild greens. One aunt commented how life had improved—anything they wanted to eat could now be bought easily.

“Yeah, who would have thought we could eat summer fruits and vegetables in winter?” another aunt agreed.

Aunt Li said, “Yiyi, when your family said they needed help, we came without hesitation. It’s not about earning money; it’s because so few young people are willing to farm these days. Seeing you work the land makes us really happy. If farmers don’t farm, what are they?”

The other aunties nodded in agreement, falling silent at the mention of this.

Indeed, when they were young, any bit of unused land had to be cultivated and planted. Nothing was wasted. But now…

“Ladies, let’s work hard so we can enjoy the fruits of our labor sooner,” Wang Yi encouraged the aunties.

“And let our brothers and sisters far away see how we live—make them envious enough to regret leaving home,” she teased them.

Aunt Li laughed heartily, “Yes, let them drool with envy!”

At noon, the dumplings her mother and aunt had made were ready, since the homemade sauerkraut from yesterday was perfectly fermented.

The first meal had to feature sauerkraut-filled dumplings—it was a matter of tradition.

Northeast Chinese sauerkraut is made from pickled Chinese cabbage. Each head turns bright white and tastes refreshingly crisp.

Sauerkraut is a staple in winter dishes in the Northeast; nearly every household makes it.

Whether it’s pig-killing dishes, stewed goose, stewed chicken, stewed tofu, or hotpot, sauerkraut is indispensable.

Wang Yi could hardly resist salivating just thinking about it.

Her mother brought the dumplings to the greenhouse, and everyone ate together in the strawberry greenhouse.

Sitting in a circle, steaming dumplings were placed in the center.

Wang Yi picked one, took a bite, and the tangy-sour flavor mixed with the savory meat instantly filled her mouth. “Mmm, delicious! Nothing beats our own homemade sauerkraut.” Everyone nodded in agreement.

At that moment, the sound of a car arrived outside—it was the village officials coming to inspect the work.

The officials walked through the greenhouse, smiling at the lively scene. “Wow, this looks amazing. The smell of these sauerkraut dumplings makes me hungry!” Wang Yi quickly invited them to join the meal.

The officials waved them off, “No, no, we’ve eaten. But it’s wonderful to see your hard work. You are the hope for our village’s prosperity. Keep it up, and you’ll surely see good returns.”

Hearing this, Wang Yi felt delighted. She firmly said, “Absolutely! We’ll make this land flourish.”

The village officials also gave her their support: “If you encounter any problems, the village will help. The county supports young people returning home to start businesses. Work hard! If you lack machines or funds, the village will provide assistance.”

Wang Yi’s father patted the village head on the shoulder. “That’s respectable.”

All the leaders in the village were childhood friends of her father.

After the officials left, everyone ate with even more enthusiasm. While eating, they discussed future planting plans, laughter echoing through the greenhouse, filled with hopes for a bright future.

Wang Yi felt that she wasn’t struggling alone—there was a whole group working together, all hoping for a better hometown and that Northeasterners working far away would return home.

She took another bite of a dumpling, savoring the full happiness—a flavor unique to the childhood and homeland of a Northeasterner.