About two months later, Song Qingshan used leftover food, bones, and scraps from the construction site to develop organic fertilizer.

He personally transported cartloads of it to Xiao Song Village.

Since it was a demonstration field, Su Xiangwan didn’t report to the team or the township first.

She planned to apply the fertilizer, let the crops yield a good harvest this season, and then discuss it.

Song Qingshan, who was submissive in front of Su Xiangwan, was not the same outside.

The young educated youths initially joked around because Su Xiangwan was young. Even though they heard she was the party secretary, they didn’t show much respect.

But after Song Qingshan scolded them a few times with a stern face, they became much more obedient.

Just when Su Xiangwan thought Song Qingshan had accepted that she wasn’t the same person as before and that they could coexist peacefully, he unexpectedly came back one night with a box.

When Su Xiangwan opened it, she found a ring inside.

It wasn’t gold but a silver ring. After handing it to her, he lay down on the kang and fell asleep.

“Song Qingshan, what do you mean by this?” Su Xiangwan asked.

Song Qingshan clasped his hands together as if he were holding a rifle. “The ring. We didn’t have one when we got married, so I bought one for you.”

“Where did you get the money? Isn’t your money supposed to be mine?” Su Xiangwan retorted.

Song Qingshan replied, “When I took my mom to the hospital, didn’t you give me fifty yuan?”

So, he used the leftover money to buy her the ring.

Su Xiangwan slipped the ring onto her finger and suddenly said, “If you want to do something, you can. No need to hold back, really.”

Song Qingshan sat up abruptly and looked at Su Xiangwan. “Stop joking. Let’s sleep.”

Fine.

Su Xiangwan turned off the light and lay down.

But just as she did, Song Qingshan suddenly shifted closer in the dark.

It was just a brief brush of lips, and his voice sounded rough: “You are you. I know I’ve wronged you before. Whatever you want now, as long as it’s within my ability, I’ll do it for you. But outside, please be cautious. The revolution won’t fade; it will only grow more intense. Don’t say anything reckless, and avoid trouble when you can. Understand?”

Su Xiangwan didn’t reply. She didn’t dare to speak or move.

It wasn’t because she was afraid of Song Qingshan hitting her or forcing her.

It was because, hearing his voice, he sounded deeply sorrowful. She realized that admitting she was someone else would mean his wife had truly died from hardship. How could he accept that?

Fine. She could only say that the original person was living well on the other side.

If Song Qingshan didn’t want to acknowledge it, so be it.

Over time, she started feeling like she and the original person were the same.

After all, Su Xiaonan had shaped the original based on her own traits.

Perhaps the only difference was that she was more rational and had never been as obsessive in love.

One evening, Goudan sat outside with a small piece of pork crackling, gazing toward the riverbank while nibbling at his snack.

He was a naturally solitary child, even though life was better now—he hadn’t been beaten in half a year.

Moreover, he had new friends now: Xiong Dan and, most recently, Ye Dan, who was recovering from surgery and lying on the kang. But every day, he still set aside some time to watch the river and think of his A-She.

However, in the twilight, he seemed to faintly see his third uncle sneaking past the backyard.

In the treeless northern plains, it was hard to hide.

Before he could get a good look, an old bicycle rattled toward him under the dim evening light.

“Is this Su Xiangwan’s house? There’s a registered letter for you,” the postman called out.

Goudan recognized the postman—it was Zhao Gululu from Zhao Village.

He quickly ran over. “Uncle Gululu, who sent a letter to my mom?”

The postman looked. “The county hospital. Quick, take it to your mom.”

Goudan ran inside with the letter and saw his mom steaming millet buns. He carefully tore open the envelope. “Mom, look! A letter from the hospital.”

Hearing it was from the hospital, Su Xiangwan’s heart skipped a beat. She tore open the letter and glanced at it, then immediately asked Luodan, “Ludan, is the leader of the so-called ‘Rebels to the End’ your cousin Fang Jinhuan?”

“Yes, Mom. Why?” Ludan was practicing military-style punches his dad had taught him. He replied seriously.

Su Xiangwan folded the letter. “Oh, nothing. Someone’s itching for trouble. I’ll help them out.”

Originally, Su Xiangwan thought that her younger sister, Su Xianghong, was having a tough time, hiding and struggling to make ends meet.

But when she knocked on the door, she was surprised to find the small tin house bustling with activity.

Inside, four or five elderly women were lying on a bed, their pants down, each with needles stuck in their thighs.

“Big Sis, oh my gosh, my little darling!” Su Xianghong exclaimed as she rushed over, grabbing the baby named Ludan and planting several firm kisses on his sweaty forehead.

However, she paid little attention to Goudan, who was hopping around excitedly, calling out for his “little aunt.” She merely glanced at him and gave him a nod.

The elderly women were Su Xianghong’s regular clients, her main source of income that allowed her to survive in the city for over half a year while in hiding.

Now that her older sister was here, Su Xianghong quickly sent the women on their way.

As she rummaged through her narrow tin house, she muttered, “I remember stashing lots of good stuff here. Where did it all go?”

Goudan watched intently, curious to see what treasures his little aunt would find.

After a while, Su Xianghong finally dug out something special—a packet of brown sugar.

She poured water into three cups: a tin mug, a bowl, and a glass.

Then she handed them out, taking Zhizhi from Su Xiangwan to feed her the sweet concoction.

Su Xiangwan had been observing.

She noted that while her sister was a skilled doctor, especially with the elderly women, her treatment of Goudan and Ludan was blatantly biased.

When she found some biscuits, she gave all of them to Ludan and none to Goudan.

Ludan, used to this favoritism, didn’t eat the biscuits himself but stashed them away.

Meanwhile, Goudan drank half a bowl of hot brown sugar water, his face lighting up with delight. “Mom, this is so sweet! Auntie’s brown sugar water is the best!”

The boy was blissfully unaware of the unfair treatment.

Su Xiangwan took a moment to ask, “What’s the name of the boys who keep harassing you?”

Su Xianghong hesitated. “Sis, they’re just a bunch of kids—fifteen or sixteen-year-old boys. You can’t call them adults, but they’re no longer kids either. They wear those green uniforms and think they can do whatever they want. Don’t bother with them. Sit down, rest a bit, and I’ll make some noodles for the kids before you leave.”

“Is one of them named Fang Jinhuan?” Su Xiangwan pressed.

Su Xianghong paused before replying. “Fang Jinhuan hasn’t been around for a couple of days. The one looking for me now is Qian Jianjian, the deputy leader of the ‘Rebels to the End’ group. He keeps chasing me, saying he wants to date me.”

“And is it just about dating?” Su Xiangwan asked, her tone sharp.

Su Xianghong hesitated, then opened a drawer, fumbling for two pieces of cheap candy. Embarrassed, she gave one piece to each nephew and sent them outside.

After the children left, Su Xianghong finally admitted, “They’re not kids, but they’re not adults either, Sis. They act like adults without the moral boundaries. Getting involved with them isn’t about dating just one person; it’s about dealing with the whole group.”

Hearing this, Su Xiangwan felt a wave of disgust but managed to keep her composure. “Have they come looking for you recently?” she asked.

“No,” Su Xianghong replied. “I just moved into this residential area near the power station, and they haven’t found me yet.”

Outside, the two boys stood under a power line. Lǘdan took out his stash of biscuits, sharing them with Goudan.

The brothers seemed harmonious, though their expressions were a little odd.

Back inside, Su Xiangwan noticed a handful of noodles in the drawer.

When Su Xianghong began heating water, she quickly stopped her. “No need. Your brother-in-law is back and has a job now. We don’t need your help. I came here hoping you’d return to the village with us. What do you think?”

Su Xianghong was stunned. “I heard rumors that my brother-in-law wasn’t dead, but I didn’t believe it. So it’s true?”

“Yes, he’s back and working in the city as a regiment commander—a real officer,” Su Xiangwan confirmed. Then she changed the subject. “But let me criticize you a bit. Ludan and Gǒudan came in together. Why did you give five biscuits to Lǘdan and none to Gǒudan?”

“They’re just kids, Sis. I only like Ludan. I honestly can’t bring myself to like Goudan,” Su Xianghong replied.

“Well, whether you like him or not, if you give one something, you must give the other something too. Otherwise, it’s unfair,” Su Xiangwan insisted.

“But don’t you favor Ludan too?” Su Xianghong retorted. “Goudan’s timid and messy. I just can’t like him.”

“Then blame me for not raising him well,” Su Xiangwan shot back.

Su Xianghong stuck out her tongue, remaining silent.

“From now on, treat them equally. Got it?” Su Xiangwan said sternly.

“Yes, Sis. I’ll try to like Goudan,” Su Xianghong promised, though her tone was insincere.

Frustrated, Su Xiangwan grabbed Zhizi and prepared to leave.

Su Xianghong hurried after her, bringing out a small bundle.

She kissed Zhizhi and handed the package to Su Xiangwan. “This is a collection of clothes I’ve gathered over the past year. Dress little Zhizhi beautifully, okay?”

As she spoke, she waved her hand and quickly ran off, saying, “Sis, I can’t show up outside, or it’ll be trouble if those kids see me. You’d better head back quickly.”

Tears streamed down her face as she kept wiping them away. Then she turned and ran back.

Watching her aunt’s retreating Lu Dan said, “Auntie is really kind.”

Gou Dan, sipping the red sugar drink and nibbling on the biscuits, was too young to understand the implications of discrimination. He added, “Mom, I think Auntie is the best, too.”

Su Xiangwan came out of the power station and kept glancing around as she made her way to the largest market and department store in Qingshui County.

“Mom, everything here requires ration tickets. Why are we coming in?” Lu dan asked curiously.

Gou had his own reasoning: “Mom’s a cadre now. She probably wants a notebook, like the one Dad uses. She’s also missing a fountain pen, like the one Cadre Zhao carries in his pocket.”

This so-called department store wasn’t much to speak of—a gray-floored, paint-chipped market typical of the 1960s, with goods piled haphazardly.

Inside was a counter clerk named Qian Xiaofang.

According to the original description, Qian Xiaofang had been a nanny for Fang Gaodi’s family and was now his mistress.

Even more interesting, Fang Jinhun, Fang Gaodi’s son, wasn’t close to his biological mother, Song Dahua.

He often quarreled with her when she tried to discipline him.

Yet he was very attached to Qian Xiaofang, his “little mom,” because she had cared for him since he was a baby.

When Song Dahua discovered the affair between her husband and the nanny, she fired Qian Xiaofang.

However, Fang Gaodi promptly arranged for her to work at the department store.

Whenever Fang Gaodi brought Jinhun to the store, Qian Xiaofang would shower him with food, drinks, and even cigarettes.

Comparatively, his strict and serious biological mother, Song Dahua, seemed less appealing to the boy.

As for Qian Jianjian, Qian Xiaofang’s younger brother, he was Fang Jinhun’s inseparable lackey.

Following the principle of “If you make my sister’s life hard, I’ll make yours harder,”

Su Xiangwan now planned to make both Qian Xiaofang and Qian Jianjian suffer a little.

Qian Xiaofang had small but shifty eyes that constantly darted around.

Su Xiangwan approached her and asked, “Comrade, I’d like to buy a box of matches.”

Qian Xiaofang smiled and took out a small box of matches from under the counter. “Match ticket.”

“I don’t have a ticket,” Su Xiangwan replied.

Qian Xiaofang scrutinized her for a moment before holding up two fingers. “Twenty cents,” she said softly.

With a match ticket, a box of matches cost only five cents.

But clerks like Qian Xiaofang often sold items off the books for four times the price, pocketing the difference by later covering the sale with tickets.

Su Xiangwan pulled out two yuan and handed it to Qian Xiaofang. “Give me a large box. My family uses a lot of matches.”

Qian Xiaofang hesitated for a moment before holding up five fingers. “A large box is five yuan.”

Matches were sold in small packs of 20 boxes per bundle.

With a ticket, a bundle cost only one yuan.

But here, the markup was exorbitant.

In the 1960s, clerking in a department store was highly profitable, which explained how Qian Xiaofang could afford her wool skirts.

When Su Xiangwan pulled out the money, she intentionally let the envelope in her pocket show. It was full of ten-yuan notes.

Dressed simply, with a child in tow and a rural accent, she looked like a perfect target—a naive woman with money to burn.

She sighed loudly, “Sigh, it wasn’t easy for his father to send us this allowance. Now we have money, but without tickets, we can’t buy anything!”

Hearing the word “allowance,” Qian Xiaofang’s eyes lit up.

Allowance meant a military family—a prime target for exploitation.

Lowering her voice, Qian Xiaofang said, “Comrade, I also have top-quality flannel. It’s only five yuan per foot. If you’re interested, I can cut it for you—no tickets required.”

“Great!” Su Xiangwan said eagerly. “I need fabric the most. But where’s the fabric?”

Qian Xiaofang didn’t respond.

Instead, she told a colleague, “Watch the counter for me. I’m going to the restroom.”

After leaving the department store, Su Xiangwan followed Qian Xiaofang, with Gou Dan and Lu Dan trailing behind her.

They sneaked around like thieves, eventually arriving behind a public restroom near a residential building’s back window.

Qian Xiaofang called out, “Jianjian, Jianjian! Bring out the flannel. Someone wants to buy it.”

A boy, shirtless but wearing a green military cap and smoking a cigarette, leaned out of the window. “Sis, let me see if she looks trustworthy. If she’s one of those capitalist-roaders or old intellectuals, we’re not selling.”

“She’s a good person, and she has kids with her,” Qian Xiaofang replied. “She’s from the countryside.”

This boy, Qian Jianjian, blew out a puff of smoke and said, “Five yuan per foot, minimum six feet. Cash on delivery.”

Noticing Su Xiangwan’s good looks, he even whistled. “Hey, sister, married too young, huh? Already got so many kids.”

In those days, flannel was in high demand.

With tickets, it cost only one yuan per foot. However, tickets were scarce because revolutionary youths often confiscated them from factories and schools.

Then, they hoarded the fabric and sold it at sky-high prices, making a fortune.

Lu Dan and Gou Dan, sensing that their mom might lose money, clung to her hand and tried to stop her from buying.

But Su Xiangwan pulled out her envelope full of cash and handed it to Qian Xiaofang, gritting her teeth. “Six feet is two meters. Don’t shortchange me, sis.”

Qian Duoduo snatched the five yuan back in one swift motion and, after a while, reluctantly tossed out a small piece of fabric that was neither new nor old. “Here. Why’d you get married so early, Sis?”

The fabric, dirty and barely over a meter in length, was made of cheap twill.

This was what Su Xiangwan got in exchange for thirty yuan.

As she accepted the cloth, Zizi, the baby behind her, was tugging on her hair.

Su Xiangwan intentionally stumbled, leaning into the window to take a quick glance inside.

Though the room was small and filthy, what she saw inside left her astonished.

To avoid arousing suspicion, she quickly pulled back, muttering, “Oh dear, too much walking on rural roads—I tripped.”

Qian Xiaofang, slightly embarrassed, said, “Twill is scarce these days. I only found this for you out of pity. Don’t feel shortchanged; really, you’re not losing out at all.”

Su Xiangwan didn’t reply and simply turned to leave.

Qian Xiaofang, despite being a bandit with a semblance of conscience, walked Su Xiangwan, laden with bags, to the main street and kept urging her, “Hurry and catch a ride home. Our county’s full of bad people.”

Bad people? Who could be worse than her?