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Chapter 9.2
It was mealtime, and the clinic was bustling with people. Generally, people were too shy to eat in the hallway.
But Gu Shidong had no such qualms. He ate the glutinous rice cakes with gusto, like a squirrel munching on a watermelon, completely at ease.
He enjoyed his food so much that even the passing doctors stopped to look.
The little rascal even greeted the doctors like they were old friends.
Gu Chunmei covered her face, not wanting to admit that this was her younger brother.
After finishing the cakes, Gu Shidong was still hungry and looked at them pitifully, holding his stomach.
Lin Yao’s heart softened. She turned to Gu Chunmei and suggested, “Sister, let’s get Gu Shidong a bowl of noodles.”
Gu Shidong’s eyes lit up with hope.
Gu Chunmei took a deep breath and, grumbling, went to the canteen to get her brother some noodles.
The canteen had good food, with skilled cooks, and even a bowl of noodles was divided into meat and vegetable options. A vegetarian bowl, with only bean sprouts, cost seven cents, while a meat bowl, rich with meat slices, bean sprouts, greens, and a fried egg, cost twelve cents and required three or four meat and food coupons.
The Gu family only got half a jin of meat coupons a month.
Gu Chunmei squeezed her meat coupons and finally bought a meat bowl of noodles.
When the big bowl of noodles was placed in front of him, even Lin Yao was taken aback. Gu Shidong, halfway through eating, was almost in tears. He wanted to put down his chopsticks but dared not, knowing his second sister was watching him.
In the end, it was Gu Mancang who came to the rescue, finishing the remaining noodles.
To the older generation, food was valuable, and every grain was precious. Gu Mancang drank up the leftover soup, not wasting a drop.
After eating, Gu Mancang returned to the steel factory.
With the wedding approaching, Gu Chunmei took advantage of her rare day off to prepare wedding supplies with Brother Da Tou and enjoy a sweet date.
At noon, Zhang Cuilan came to check on her youngest son and took Lin Yao back to the courtyard.
The street needed more help in the afternoon.
Lin Yao left half a jin of peach crisps, two small books, and filled a green water jug with boiled water for Gu Shidong. With food, drink, and books, Gu Shidong wouldn’t feel lonely at all.
Zhang Cuilan looked back at her son still hanging on the IV, smiling broadly.
Back at the courtyard, Director Ge from the commune had been busy for several days, and the commune canteen was about to open.
The canteen was set up in the courtyard of the street office, an old-style courtyard house that was once owned by capitalists. The place was grander than the courtyard, with intricate wooden carvings and golden silk nanmu furniture.
The canteen’s kitchen was also an old one, spacious with new brick stoves. It had a large steamer for buns, a freshly made iron wok for stir-frying, a small stove with a big clay pot for stewing meat and soup, and a long table against the wall with all the necessary utensils and firewood.
Everything was ready, just waiting for the official opening.
Director Ge began mobilizing the commune members to send rice and flour to the canteen.
This was also a regulation from above: no cooking at home, everyone ate at the big canteen.
Each household was required to send ten jin of rice or five jin of flour to the canteen. If there was no white rice or flour, they could use millet, cornmeal, or sweet potato flour as substitutes.
The second production team, where the courtyard was located, had over a hundred people. Eating three meals a day at the canteen meant the rice and flour provided by the members alone wouldn’t be enough. The rest would be supplemented by the state.
Considering this, the national policy seemed reasonable.
In those days, with many people in a family, even a growing boy could consume a lot of food.
Director Ge assured that the canteen provided generous meals, so members wouldn’t have to worry about being underfed.
Some shrewd women did the math in their heads. If each household sent ten jin of rice to the canteen each month, they wouldn’t have to worry about food. After all, a family of three could easily consume twenty jin of rice or more per month, especially with large appetites or larger families. If not enough food was available, they would have to fill up with water.
Everyone quickly did the math, smiles on their faces, and several groups of people carried sacks of rice to the canteen.
The commune accountant, sweating profusely, was busy with one hand on the ledger and the other on the abacus.
However, some people were reluctant to contribute grain. For instance, Wang Shengcai’s wife and the old lady from the Wang family complained that their household was poor and that they had no white rice or flour, nor any cornmeal or sorghum. They asked the accountant if they could use wheat bran as a substitute.
The accountant, exasperated, laughed in disbelief.
You two are joking, right? Wheat bran is for feeding pigs and chickens. If you can eat it, why not ask if your family can make steamed buns with wheat bran? If you can eat them, we might consider using wheat bran for the canteen.
The surrounding commune members burst into laughter.
The old lady from the Wang family could only grumble and go home to fetch some grain.
Wang Shengcai’s wife, feeling frustrated, decided to knock on the door of the Gu family.
Zhang Cuilan had gone to deliver grain to the commune canteen, leaving Lin Yao alone at home, taking a nap.
She slept so soundly that even the thunder outside couldn’t wake her.
Wang Shengcai’s wife knocked on the doors of the Gu family’s wing rooms one by one, her hand growing sore from knocking, but no one answered.
Wang Shengcai’s wife, tired and disheartened, went home empty-handed.
She had originally hoped to “borrow” some grain from the Gu family, but their stubbornness meant she had made the trip for nothing!
In the city, the canteen was bustling, and in the countryside, the commune was equally lively.
Linjia Village—no, it should now be called the Dongfanghong Production Team.
The Dongfanghong Production Team’s canteen was also in full swing. The team leader and workers had built stoves under a wooden shed, one for boiling soup and one for cooking rice.
Just like in Yunshui County, the team leader used a loudspeaker to urge the villagers to contribute grain to the canteen.
Lin Daguo and his wife, seeing an opportunity, rushed to the team leader with their grain bags faster than anyone.
After all, Lin’s family often had to eat coarse flour buns and drink gruel.
The village canteen served white flour buns and braised pork!
The couple hurried to show their support to the team leader.
Lin Hongna, however, looked down on the show of support, ignoring the neighbor’s messy yard. She went straight to the kitchen and gulped down a bowl of brown sugar water.
After setting down her enamel mug, Lin Hongna’s gaze fixated on the empty grain jar at home, lost in thought.
If she remembered correctly, this was the time Gu Shi’an returned from demobilization in her previous life.
**
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