Chapter 48: Drinking

Lin Wei had said yesterday that the trial class might be held today, so when Zong Shao returned home from the barracks, he asked about the outcome.

“It’s done. We’ll be teaching for three months. The salary is set at the lowest level—twenty-six yuan a month—but all other benefits will be the same as those of regular workers,” Lin Wei said as she dished out the last plate of food.

The result wasn’t unexpected, but Zong Shao still feigned surprise and asked with a smile, “Then should we celebrate?”

Lin Wei paused while drying her hands. “There’s no need. It’s just a short-term job, and I’ve already cooked.”
Celebrating nowadays usually just meant going out for a meal, but since she had already finished cooking, going out now felt unnecessary and wasteful.

“It’s a short-term job, but it’s your first one since coming to the island. That deserves some celebration,” Zong Shao said seriously. Then, as if struck by an idea, he asked, “Want to have a drink?”

Lin Wei looked up at him. “What kind of wine?”

“What kind of wine do we have at home?” Zong Shao asked as he turned around and walked out of the kitchen, heading to the living room to search.

He didn’t drink much at home, and Lin Wei didn’t drink at all. All he found was half a bottle of white liquor left over from cooking—a 42-proof bottle that might be a bit strong for Lin Wei.

Zong Shao came back and said, “There’s only half a bottle of white liquor at home, and it’s pretty strong. I’ll go out and buy something else.”

As Lin Wei carried the dishes to the dining table, she asked, “We’re really drinking?”

Zong Shao nodded. “Of course. You’ve never had a drink on the island, so today’s the day to try it.” He reached out to her for money and ration tickets—after all, he had already handed over all his private savings and didn’t have any of his own.

Seeing that he was so enthusiastic, Lin Wei nodded and said, “Alright then, let’s have a drink.” She went upstairs to look for the money and tickets.

Actually, the main issue was the tickets. Although she had cut off Zong Shao’s private funds, she hadn’t completely isolated him from the household money. She usually kept a bit of pocket money downstairs, locked in a cabinet. The key was placed on top of the cabinet so it would be easy to access when needed.

At first, Zong Shao would take money from there to buy cigarettes—always letting Lin Wei know before he did.

But since they had a child at home and he couldn’t smoke indoors, and because Lin Wei once pulled him along for a lung exam during her checkup—citing her worries about him getting lung cancer—he began trying to quit.

Zong Shao had never been a heavy smoker, so quitting shouldn’t have been too hard. But the troops were full of old smokers, and it was customary to share cigarettes when they met. If someone handed him one and he refused, he’d have to explain why, and afterward, people would joke about it. All of that made quitting even harder.

So far, Zong Shao hadn’t managed to quit entirely, but he had cut back drastically—just three to five cigarettes a month. Since he no longer needed money for cigarettes, he rarely dipped into the cabinet and would simply ask Lin Wei for money when he needed it.

Aside from money, she kept the family’s food ration book and coal coupon book downstairs as well. She also kept a few meat and seafood coupons there, so she wouldn’t have to go upstairs every day just to fetch them before shopping.

But the grain ration book wasn’t stored downstairs—that was too important. As for rice and flour, based on Lin Wei’s experience, it was best to buy for the whole month at once. Buy a month’s worth, never just half. More was always better.

So she usually did all the grain shopping at the start of the month and rarely went back to the grain station—making the grain ration book largely unused most of the time.

But for less commonly used tickets, like industrial and cloth tickets, Lin Wei kept them upstairs and only went to retrieve them when needed. The same applied to liquor tickets. No one in the family drank, so although they occasionally received two liquor tickets, she usually stored them away until they expired.

Lin Wei went upstairs, rummaged through the cabinet where she kept the tickets, and found three liquor tickets. One had indeed expired, but the remaining two were still valid and could be used to buy one and a half catties of white wine.

She brought all the tickets downstairs and handed Zong Shao some money as well, just in case. But she still reminded him, “Don’t buy too much wine.”

Zong Shao readily agreed, but returned with a bottle of one catty of coconut wine, half a catty of lychee wine, and half a catty of glutinous rice wine. The coconut wine was purchased with tickets, while the lychee and glutinous rice wines didn’t require any, so he still had half a catty’s worth of tickets left.

He also came back with two coconuts. The coconuts weren’t a big deal, but the wine… Lin Wei frowned and asked, “Did you buy too much?”

“Too much?” Zong Shao echoed.

Two catties of wine — wasn’t that too much?

Granted, Zong Shao didn’t drink often, but he had a strong tolerance. On the day of their engagement, he had single-handedly outdrunk all three men in her family.

Which now made Lin Wei wonder if he was using her celebration as an excuse to indulge himself.

Zong Shao explained, “These wines are all low in alcohol content and on the sweeter side. You can try each of them later. And they’re all types of white wine, so they keep well. Even if we don’t finish them today, we can save them for next time.” He had thought this through and wasn’t just spending carelessly.

Lin Wei found his reasoning sound and nodded. “Alright, then let’s drink the bulk wine first and save the bottled ones for later.” Even though white wine could be stored, Zong Shao mentioned that low-alcohol wine might lose its flavor over time.

She then called the two children who were still playing outside, helped them wash their hands, and began serving dinner.

Hearing her voice, Mingming ran into the courtyard. As he passed the dining table, he spotted the three bottles and asked, “What’s this, Mom?”

“White wine.”

Mingming pointed to the golden-colored glutinous rice wine and said, “Mom’s lying! That one’s clearly yellow!”

Bulk wine required customers to bring their own bottles, but Zong Shao hadn’t brought any. Luckily, Zhao Li hadn’t finished work yet and lent him two clean, clear glass bottles.

Lin Wei replied, “White wine can be golden too.”

“How can white wine be yellow? One’s white and one’s yellow — don’t you know that, Mom?” Mingming pointed first at the white coconut wine, then at the reddish glutinous rice wine.

Lin Wei reached out to tap her son on the forehead and said, “Yes, yes, you’re the clever one. Even if it’s not technically white wine, it’s still wine — and you’re not allowed to drink it anyway, so why are you asking so much?”

“I was just curious! I didn’t want to drink it,” Mingming said, sticking out his tongue in protest.

“If you’re not drinking, then go wash your hands!” Lin Wei said as she brought the rice to the table.

Zong Shao came out as well, carrying four clean white wine glasses.

Calling them white wine glasses was a bit of a stretch — they were much larger than the usual kind, though still smaller than regular water cups. Lin Wei had bought them mainly because they didn’t require a ticket, weren’t expensive, and matched the teapot set. She figured they’d be fine for use as water glasses too.

However, once she brought them home, she was hesitant to let the children use them — glass was fragile and could easily cut their hands if broken. Enamel cups were much safer.

In the end, Lin Wei only set out two glasses — one for herself and one for Zong Shao — and locked the others in the cupboard after washing them.

Zong Shao took the cups, including the ones Lin Wei had stored away, washed them again, rinsed them with hot water, and made them ready for use.

As he placed the cups on the table, he asked, “What kind of wine do you want to try?”

“I’ll go with the yellow one,” Lin Wei said, pointing at the glutinous rice wine.

Hearing this, Mingming muttered to his brother, “See, I told you Mom was wrong earlier.” He figured she had realized her mistake and changed her answer to “yellow wine.”

Lin Wei: “……”

Since he wasn’t sure whether Lin Wei would like the wine, Zong Shao poured just a little for her — barely enough to cover the bottom of the cup — and half a glass for himself.

Even though Mingming had insisted he didn’t want to drink, he couldn’t help licking his lips as he stared at the golden liquid shimmering in the glass.

Noticing his son’s expression, Zong Shao said, “You two can have coconut juice.” He then went into the kitchen, fetched a knife, and cracked open a coconut, pouring all the juice into a glass.

Although the coconut juice was delicious, its pale color wasn’t nearly as enticing as the golden hue of the glutinous rice wine.

Still, Mingming knew very well that Mom and Dad wouldn’t let her drink it, so she could only reluctantly turn her gaze away, sit on her own stool, and take a sip from her cup.

Lin Wei also picked up the glutinous rice wine and took a sip.

She didn’t avoid alcohol for any particular reason—she just didn’t like it. Beer tasted bitter, white wine felt too harsh, and the only thing she found acceptable was a type of yellow wine brought by a colleague from their hometown after she started working at the Shicheng Cotton Spinning Factory. That one didn’t have the bitterness of beer or the burn of white wine, and it had a sweet aftertaste.

This glutinous rice wine was somewhat similar to that yellow wine. The flavor leaned toward sweetness, though it wasn’t exactly the same—it had a slight acidity in the aftertaste, almost like fruit juice. But Lin Wei had never had juice like this before, so she couldn’t quite describe it. In any case, it was pretty good.

“How’s the flavor?” Zong Shao asked.

“It’s delicious,” Lin Wei replied.

“Then have a bit more.” Zong Shao picked up the bottle and refilled her glass. After that, he raised his own glass to toast her on her new job.

Ruirui heard him and also raised his coconut juice, mimicking his dad as he congratulated his mom.

That left Mingming, who held his cup reluctantly, not particularly eager to celebrate Mom’s new job.

When he first heard the news, Mingming had been happy—he thought he was about to be liberated. But now he wasn’t so thrilled, because Mom had said she’d be bringing him along to all her classes.

As a result, not only did he have to stay in school for four or five periods a day, but even after returning home, he still had to keep studying. His study time had practically doubled!

Ah, life was so hard.

Mingming sighed and reluctantly lifted his coconut milk, offering a half-hearted congratulations.

Even though he wasn’t very enthusiastic, the atmosphere remained cheerful. Lin Wei raised her wine glass, clinked it with everyone else’s, and took a small sip of the glutinous rice wine.

After she finished the glutinous rice wine, Zong Shao poured her half a cup of lychee wine.

The lychee wine looked somewhat similar to coconut milk in color—but of course, that was just its appearance. It still had the taste of alcohol, though the flavor was light and fresh, and Lin Wei found it acceptable.

After trying those two wines, Lin Wei began to look forward to tasting the coconut wine as well. She held her wine glass expectantly and looked at Zong Shao.

But instead of opening the bottle immediately, Zong Shao deliberately teased, “Didn’t you say we should finish the bulk wine first?”

Though all the wines Zong Shao had bought were low in alcohol content, Lin Wei had already consumed two or three taels, half a cup at a time. While she had decent tolerance, she didn’t drink often and wasn’t used to it—so she was already a bit tipsy, resting her hand on the table, her expression slightly dazed.

Still, she was a graceful drunk—not noisy or erratic. But after hearing Zong Shao’s teasing, she pouted and narrowed her eyes at the wine bottle in his hand, saying nothing.

Her attitude was clear, though—she wanted to drink more.

So of course, Zong Shao gave in. He opened the bottle of coconut wine and poured just enough to coat the bottom of her glass.

The coconut wine also tasted good—not overly sweet, but with a strong coconut aroma. Lin Wei took a sip, smacked her lips thoughtfully, and felt it wasn’t quite enough. She pushed the glass forward.

This time, Zong Shao didn’t pour her any more and said, “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk. I still want to drink,” she insisted.

Every drunk says that.

But Lin Wei was different from those who pretended to be drunk just to ask for more alcohol—she simply flopped down on the rice table and blinked her watery eyes at Zong Shao.

Her eyes looked a bit like Ming Ming’s when he was trying to be spoiled.

But perhaps because Ming Ming had used that look too many times, Zong Shao had developed an immunity. Since Lin Wei rarely looked at him like that when she was sober, he couldn’t resist it now. So, he poured her another small glass of coconut wine.

Still, he hadn’t completely given up resisting. As he poured, he struggled a little and said, “Last one.”

Lin Wei agreed cheerfully at the time. But after finishing the wine, she forgot all about the promise, lying on the table and slowly pushing her empty glass toward Zong Shao with two fingers.

Zong Shao tried to hold out and avoided looking her in the eyes.

Then she switched strategies and called out loudly, “A Shao.”

Lin Wei had learned to call Zong Shao this way from Deng Xiangyun. In the Lingnan region, people often used “A + name” to call someone close to them—those unfamiliar might say “Mr. X,” while those more intimate would say “A X.” Deng Xiangyun, for example, called Zhou Jianhai “A Hai.”

Lin Wei had heard it once by chance and thought it was cute, so she started using it with Zong Shao.

But she didn’t say it often, finding it too intimate. Even if others didn’t think much of it, she herself felt embarrassed when saying it in public.

Still, the nickname was indeed more affectionate than calling someone by their full name. And when she said it, her voice would unconsciously soften and draw out, adding a hint of coquettishness that Zong Shao had gotten very used to.

The first time he heard her call him “A Shao” was in bed—she had held him tightly and whispered it while asking him to slow down.

Of course, the result was that he couldn’t slow down at all.

Later, he’d even coax her to call him that, telling her he’d slow down if she did. She fell for it a few times, but once she realized the name only made him more excited, she refused to play along.

She only used it again when she was on her period, deliberately teasing him—stoking the fire without taking responsibility for putting it out.

Every time, Zong Shao would grind his teeth watching her smug expression.

Now, he found himself grinding his teeth again. That teasing voice seemed to travel from his ears straight to his heart. He had no choice but to give in again and pour her more wine.

But this time Lin Wei got picky—she didn’t want coconut wine anymore, she wanted the glutinous rice one.

As Zong Shao poured the wine, she asked playfully, “What do you think it’d taste like if we mixed all three kinds of wine together?”

“It’d probably taste bad,” Zong Shao replied.

Lin Wei looked down at her glass, filled with golden liquid, shook her head, and said, “Forget it, better not waste food.” She took another sip and raised her glass to clink it with his.

After finishing that glass, Lin Wei didn’t ask for more.

Because she was drunk. She slumped over the dining table, squinting her eyes as she drifted off to sleep.

Zong Shao set down his glass, stood up, and gently lifted Lin Wei into his arms. He said to the two children still seated at the table, “Mom’s drunk. I’m taking her upstairs to rest.” With that, he carried her back inside.

Ming Ming rested his chin on his hand, watching them leave. Then he turned to his brother and asked, “Mom’s drunk? Then why is she so quiet?”

He had seen drunk people being loud and rowdy before—completely unlike their mom—so he doubted she was actually drunk. Maybe she was just asleep.

Rui Rui thought for a moment and said, “Maybe mommy’s just quiet when she’s drunk.”

Ming Ming didn’t really get it. He turned toward the nearly empty bottle of glutinous rice wine, licked his lips, and said, “The wine must be really good.”

“The wine smells gross,” Rui Rui said, wrinkling his nose.

“Durian smells gross too, but you still love it,” Ming Ming argued cleverly. He got up, walked to where Zong Shao had been sitting, picked up the glutinous rice wine bottle, and sniffed it. His eyes lit up. “It doesn’t stink at all!”

Rui Rui didn’t believe him, so Ming Ming brought the bottle over. “Smell it! It really doesn’t stink.”

Rui Rui turned his head and sniffed. Then he wrinkled his nose again. “It doesn’t smell good either.”

Ming Ming looked a little disappointed and hugged the bottle thoughtfully.

He used to think durian smelled bad, but his brother said it was delicious and didn’t think it stank. Now he thought the wine didn’t stink, but his brother said it didn’t smell good. So… wine must be delicious too!

He turned his head and shared his theory with his brother, adding, “Think about it. If wine wasn’t good, why would mom drink so much of it?”

Rui Rui was convinced and thought for a moment. “But… mom and dad won’t let us drink.”

“We’ll just drink a little,” Ming Ming said confidently. “Then we’ll put the bottle back. They won’t know.” Clearly, he was well-versed in the art of mischief.

Rui Rui looked at his brother and asked, “Then… should we try it?”

“So, when Zong Shao came downstairs, all he saw were two little drunks.”