That night, Song Qingshan got up in the middle of the night for no apparent reason.

Su Xiangwan didn’t bother to ask him what he was up to.

The following night, he got up again.

He claimed he was going out to add some feed for the livestock, but he was gone for at least three or four hours and still hadn’t returned by dawn.

Curious about what he was up to, Su Xiangwan went outside to check.

She found that he had dug a small pit near the livestock pen and hidden a radio and a flashlight inside.

Crossing her arms, Su Xiangwan laughed, “Song Qingshan, what kind of nonsense are you up to now?”

Song Qingshan, leaning against the doorframe, explained, “I’m someone who lived through the Great Famine of ’42 and the famine of ’58. I’ve got no other hobbies except collecting things. These radios and flashlights were items left behind by revolutionaries after our last mission was interrupted. They were smashed, damaged, and abandoned in the work area. I picked them out of the trash pile, fixed them up a bit, and brought back the ones that could still be salvaged.”

Su Xiangwan gave him a skeptical look. “I think you’re just a thief. Radios and flashlights are valuable treasures these days. You mean to tell me you hauled them back over a thousand kilometers from Dongfeng City, driving a tractor? That’s hard to believe.”

Song Qingshan shrugged. “We’re construction engineers. Our vehicles can’t be inspected by local authorities. As for these items, they were all junk to begin with. Many are still broken. I’ll fix them slowly. Once they’re working, if you’re short on cash, you can secretly trade them for some grain or vegetables. Just don’t gouge people or ask for too much money. Giving one away to help a neighbor is also fine.”

He sighed. “When I first came here, I drove a big truck, you know. But our county didn’t have a vehicle, so I gave it to the county government.”

Su Xiangwan’s eyes widened in astonishment.

She thought, What kind of man is this? How is it that things that seem impossible for others come so easily to him?

Under the cool moonlight, Song Qingshan came out of the pit, covered it with an old door panel and some straw, and said, “It’s all yours now. Do you know why I’m giving this to you as a reward?”

“Why?” Su Xiangwan asked.

Song Qingshan wiped the dust off his nose, put his hands on his hips, and said, “Because back then, you threatened to divorce me and take the kids if I didn’t come home. But when I returned two years later, you were still here. Not only that, we now have a little Xiao Zizi. That’s why it’s yours.”

Seeing Su Xiangwan still wary, he raised his hands and added, “Relax, I won’t touch you again in this lifetime. Let’s just live like this. I’m satisfied with three kids. Really.”

After finishing her business, Su Xiangwan, motivated by Song Qingshan’s permission to trade the radios and flashlights for supplies, got to work.

That morning, Sun Shufen mentioned she wanted a flashlight and asked if Su Xiangwan would trade one for ten pounds of fine white flour.

Since Su Xiangwan’s family was diligent, honest, and not prone to causing trouble, they had managed to stockpile a lot of flour.

This kind of quiet, private barter was a good way to gain a little without flaunting wealth.

Su Xiangwan thought ten pounds was a lot for one flashlight, so she gave Sun Shufen a discount and only took eight pounds.

Now, Su Xiangwan also had some fine white flour.

The children, Gou Dan and Lu Dan, hadn’t had any white flour since August 15th, when their father returned, and their mother made each of them a bowl of fine noodles.

Watching Su Xiangwan hide the meat and flour under the stove, Gou Dan curiously asked, “Mom, why are you hiding all the flour?”

Su Xiangwan replied, “Your dad told me to. I don’t know why.”

Gou Dan sighed suddenly. “Xiao Ashe once told me her biggest wish was for her family to have meat and white flour. I really want to tell her we have both now, but she’s gone.”

Lu Dan gave Gou Dan a smack and scolded, “She’s gone. Don’t bring her up again.” His eyes turned red as he spoke.

Xiao Ashe was the second daughter of Song Jianguo’s family.

She was as pretty as could be, the same age as Gou Dan and Lu Dan, but she passed away last year. Before she died, her last words were: “Mom, ask someone what meat tastes like and tell me, okay?”

Jianguo’s wife had gone out to find some meat for her daughter to try, but by the time she returned, Xiao Ashe had already passed.

When Xiao Ashe was mentioned, both Gou Dan and Lu Dan had reddened eyes.

Early in the morning, Song Qingshan was covering his tricycle with tarpaulin.

Song Fu and Jin Gui, who had been keeping an eye on him since Song Laosan was beaten and didn’t dare come anymore, watched closely.

Song Fu, the braver of the two, saw Song Qingshan loading shiny, polished radios onto the tricycle and asked, “Uncle, what are you doing?”

Song Qingshan turned to him and, with a serious expression, said, “My comrades are coming. I’m delivering these radios and flashlights to them.”

“But aren’t these radios and flashlights meant to help my dad find a job?” Song Fu asked knowingly.

Song Qingshan smiled kindly. To the children, he was always gentle. “Who told you that?”

“My dad did,” Song Fu said, gazing up at the tall, handsome man in his military uniform and rolled-up white shirt sleeves.

With his hands on his hips and a shiny new belt around his waist, Song Qingshan looked truly dashing.

“I never said that. Go home now,” Song Qingshan replied, grabbing the crank handle and starting the tractor in one swift motion.

Of course, Song Fu, quick as a flash, darted off like a puff of black smoke to report to the old lady.

By the time the old lady managed to slip her feet into her oversized shoes and rushed to the labor reform site, she saw Song Qingshan driving his shiny, brand-new tractor out of the yard.

A group of village kids followed behind, shouting and cheering.

Among them, Lu Dan held a stick upright as he ran after the tractor, yelling, “That’s my dad! See that? This is my dad’s tractor!”

All the village kids were chasing after the tractor.

The tarp on the tractor was tightly secured, clearly covering something. The old lady squinted and caught a glimpse—it was a radio.

“Qingshan, where are you going?” the old lady Song shouted, grabbing onto the side of the tractor.

Song Qingshan slowed the tractor down and called out loudly, “Mom, I’m taking the tractor and flashlights to deliver them to their rightful owner. These things don’t belong to us.”

The old lady let out a sharp cry: “What? Didn’t you say you were going to sell them to get Old Third a job?”

“Mom, these belong to the public. How could I take them to trade for Old Third’s job? You must have misheard,” Song Qingshan replied loudly as the tractor continued moving at a leisurely pace.

“You clearly said Old Third was going to be a cadre, and you fully supported him!” the old lady yelled.

“I do support him, but what does that have to do with the radios and flashlights?” Song Qingshan said.

The old lady tried to lift the tarp, wanting to see if the dozens of radios were still inside.

However, the tractor moved steadily, and she couldn’t keep up. The thick army-green tarp stayed firmly in place.

All she could smell was diesel and dust as Song Qingshan drove off.

“I don’t believe that heartless Song Qingshan! He must have hidden all the radios. That coward, that useless man—he’s definitely stashed them somewhere!” Old Lady Song, unable to catch up, stopped by the roadside, panting alongside Song Fu and Qingyu.

Qingyu suggested, “Why don’t we go back to the labor reform site and check again?”

So, back to the labor reform site they went, and the old lady started searching frantically.

“Unbelievable! Not a single one left? He took them all?” The old lady rummaged through every corner, finding the place completely bare.

All that was left on the kang was a single quilt—no cushions, no furniture, nothing but four bare walls. Her face twisted in frustration.

She poked around here and there, even pulling out the broom to sweep under the kang, hoping to find something hidden.

Qingyu, who had a knack for snooping, even took a detour to the donkey shed.

But she never would have guessed that behind the pile of hay in the donkey shed was a hidden cellar.

In fact, Song Qingshan had only taken three radios. The rest were all hidden in the underground stash.

“Not a single one left? All taken away?” The old lady song’s legs gave out, and she sat on the ground.

Su Xiangwan, suppressing a laugh, said, “Mom, those things weren’t ours to begin with. Look at you—worn out and stressed to the point of getting sores around your mouth. Was it worth it? Now that the things are gone, isn’t it better to have some peace? Go home and rest.”

No wonder Song Qingshan had made her hide the white flour and cured meat earlier—he must have been preparing for the old lady song’s search.

“If the radios are gone, what about Laosan’s job? Old Third had a proper job lined up, and we were just waiting to sell the radios!” the old lady song said.

Su Xiangwan smirked and replied, “Mom, no one bribes for jobs these days. If you try that, people might report you as counter-revolutionary. Trust me, just go home.”

“It’s all your fault, you damned counter-revolutionary! You’ve turned my son against me!” The old lady song grabbed the broom she’d been using to poke around and swung it at Su Xiangwan. “If it weren’t for you, my son wouldn’t have taken away all the radios!”

“Old lady,” Su Xiangwan said coldly, slamming a cleaver onto the chopping board, “I’ve been patient with you out of respect. But we’re two separate households now. If you dare touch me with that broom, I swear I’ll bash my head right in front of you!”

Old lady Song, recalling how Su Xiangwan had headbutted someone like an iron bull before, hesitated.

She pointed at Su Xiangwan and shouted, “Don’t get smug. Even though we’re separated, when I’m old and bedridden, you’ll have to take care of me. It’s the duty of the eldest son’s wife to serve the in-laws!”

“Great!” Su Xiangwan laughed. “When you’re old and need someone to take care of you, I’ll make sure to wrap you in eight quilts in summer and fill your bed with ice in winter. I’ll make sure you’re so comfortable you’ll shout my praises as the most filial daughter-in-law.”

Old lady Song was dumbfounded.

She had never encountered someone so sharp-tongued. She staggered, her vision swimming. “Say that again in front of your husband if you dare!” she demanded.

“I won’t. Words like that are just for you. If others heard, they’d think I was a shrew,” Su Xiangwan said with a grin.

Realizing Su Xiangwan was playing the long game, the old lady stomped her feet and left the labor reform site in tears.

Back at the old house, Song Laosan’s second sister, Song Erhua, had arrived from the city to visit.

Old lady Song wasted no time complaining to her about how Song Qingshan had taken a whole cartload of things, then driven them away again.

Song Laosan, squatting like a defeated dog, said nothing.

“Military uniforms, cadre jobs—I could’ve been a supervisor. I could’ve been like my elder brother, earning money for the family. But now, thanks to my brother, I’ll spend my life stuck as a farmer,” he muttered bitterly.

Song Erhua’s life wasn’t bad.

Her husband worked at the county health clinic, and she dabbled in small-scale profiteering on the side. Their days were quite comfortable.

However, compared to Song Dahua and her husband, their situation fell far short.

Song Dahua herself was the chairwoman of the Qing County Women’s Federation, and her husband, Fang Gaodi, worked in the Qing County Personnel Office.

The couple was not only outstanding, but their eldest son, Fang Jinhuan, had also responded to the leader’s call and joined a “Radical Overhaul” brigade, making him quite the prominent figure.

Because of this, Erhua rarely had a say in front of the matriarch.

This time, though, she felt she could offer a suggestion: “There’s still the tractor, right? If he delivers the goods but the tractor remains, why not have him sell it? We can use the money to help the third brother find a job.”

Old lady Song eyes lit up. “I was just about to ask you—how much could a tractor sell for?”

Erhua replied, “A cheaper one would go for eight or nine hundred. A better one could fetch two or three thousand. Honestly, just driving it out would attract buyers.”

Old lady Song let out a long sigh. “Alright then, let’s sell the tractor. After all, this family needs to have at least one officer, one official. If the eldest and the second sons can’t take on the role, then let the third son do it.”

And so, the decision was made.

…..

Song Qingshan was perfectly aware of the situation.

He openly told Su Xiangwan that he intended to redivide the family property.

Yet, in reality, he hadn’t done anything and continued his routine of leaving early and returning late every day.

However, when he later announced that all the radios, flashlights, and borrowed meat were gone, Old lady Song came storming over, demanding the family property be redistributed.

Song Qingshan put on a reluctant expression and kept trying to persuade Old lady Song: “What’s the point of dividing the family again? Isn’t the current arrangement working just fine?”

Leaning on her cane and supported by her son, Old lady Song kept staring at the shiny, new tractor, thinking about how valuable it was.

“Let’s divide it. Call in the officials and we’ll redistribute the property. This time, once it’s divided, I’ll sign and seal it with a promise never to go back on it,” Old lady Song declared.