A century of poverty

Chapter 19 Intelligence

Jiang Xiuying grew up to be very tall with a great figure, a high nose, an oval face, lips that were neither too thin nor too thick, and a few light freckles on her fair face. Her thick, black hair was braided into a bun and pinned behind her head with a silver hairpin.

Her body was wrapped in tattered clothes; she lived a life of hardship, subsisting on meager rations; and the mental anguish she endured meant that the glow of youth was nowhere to be found on her face. She was constantly busy with chores, from sweeping to tending the fields, and her peaceful figure was nowhere to be seen.

She gathered a large basket of firewood and laid it out to dry in the yard. Before even entering the house, she grabbed a carrying pole from behind the door and went to the east well to fetch water. The well had a blue stone platform and a blue stone well frame. She hung a bucket on it, turned the windlass, and lowered it down. The well was several meters deep, making her dizzy just looking down. With a practiced twist of the rope, she drew up a full bucket of water, then drew another bucket and carried it away, filling the water vat to the brim.

He went inside and asked, "Mom! What are we cooking today?"

Mother-in-law: "Pound those beans, we're making lazy tofu today."

Xiuying put the last few beans from the earthenware pot into a winnowing basket, took a broom, and went to the millstone in the northwest corner of the alley to pound them. When she got there, she saw that the millstone was white, so she carefully swept it twice, poured the beans on it, and pounded them in no time.

When I got home, I poured the soybeans into a basin, added water, put a winnowing basket on it, set up a small millstone, and started grinding—I only went halfway through.

"Go prepare the dishes, I'll go get them," the mother-in-law said as she came to take him away.

She got off the kang (a heated brick bed), washed the dried radish tops from last autumn and winter, and blanched them. She lit a fire, went inside to start grinding grains, and poured the raw soy milk into a pot to heat the fire. Once it was done, she went back inside, placed an old square container on the kang, removed the cabinet lid and put it on top as a dining table, took out bowls and chopsticks, and returned to the passageway to serve the lazy tofu. Everything was arranged, and the three of them began to eat.

The mother-in-law sat in her usual seat on the kang (a heated brick bed), hoping to sit next to his mother.

Her usual spot was the edge of the kang (heated brick bed), where it was easy to get up and down. If a chopstick was missing from the table and she had to get down to fetch it, she would be complained about for being inconsiderate.

In the shallow room, there were a few sweet potatoes. I picked out a good one and gave it to my mother-in-law. I picked a scabbed one for myself, filled a half-bowl with thin soup, took a bite of the sweet potato and drank a sip of the lazy tofu soup.

She didn't notice her mother-in-law pouting and stirring the lazy tofu in the bowl with a ladle handle: "How did you make this? It's so watery and mushy."

Xiuying replied, "Someone was grinding salt on the millstone, and I swept it twice!"

"You dare to argue? You won't listen to Mom." Hope said, kicking her. Xiuying spilled the lazy tofu soup from her bowl, splashing it all over her thigh. Her face turned red, tears welled up in her eyes, but she didn't dare move, swallowing the tears and grievances down her throat.

After finishing her meal, she still had to continue washing dishes and tidying up the house as if nothing had happened. When it got dark, she still had to prepare breakfast for Hope the next morning, and he still had to get up early to go out and sell earthenware pots.

There was no other food left in the house, so she swept out a little sweet potato flour from the bottom of the jar, put it in a ladle, and prepared a few steamed buns for Hope to eat the next morning. He still had to carry a load of earthenware pots out all day.

"Mom, there's no more food," Xiuying reported to her mother-in-law.

"Oh! Buy some rice bran when you come back from selling earthenware pots tomorrow," the old woman said to Hope.

I hope you'll just say "yes" in response.

Every year after the start of summer and the planting of crops, there is not much to eat. For these reasons, the still-growing children have to carry eight-strand ropes and sell earthenware pots in exchange for bran and wild vegetables to get by until the grain is harvested.

Xiuying got up earlier than Xiwang, mixed the remaining dough in the ladle, made a few pieces of steamed buns, and heated up the lazy tofu from last night. After Xiwang finished eating, she gave one of the remaining two pieces to her mother-in-law, and wrapped the other piece in a flat cloth for Xiwang to take with her.

Even if you go out all day, you probably won't want to spend money on food.

Xiuying drank some lazy tofu soup, and that was her breakfast. She went out to gather firewood and dig for wild vegetables, and was starving. If she could find a walnut lying on the ground under the walnut tree, it would be a blessing from heaven!

He had loaded a load of earthenware pots from Zhangshimen and planned to go north from Dalidian, passing through Liutianzhuang, a large village. He hoped to sell more there because he thought the land there was bigger and more abundant than in Zhuangtuo, and that it might be more prosperous than my family's place.

"Let's go north and take a look." As he was thinking this, he suddenly heard a whistle, and a group of Japanese soldiers and security troops rushed past him, almost knocking over his carrying pole. He quickly moved to the side of the road and steadied himself.

I walked around here several times but couldn't sell anything; people were all staying inside and not coming out.

He continued north as planned when a fellow villager carrying a bundle returned and told him, "Don't go any further, the Japanese have blocked the road."

Since he was already there, he decided to go and take a look. He continued walking forward and, sure enough, there was a roadblock at the entrance to the village, guarded by armed security troops, and menacing Japanese soldiers standing by the roadside.

He had no choice but to change his route and head west, selling for a while in Wanzhuang and Huangling, but he didn't sell much. He picked up his load and headed to the next village, where his sister Mutaiying lived. He sold two sets at the entrance of the village, which made his load a little lighter. He then walked towards his sister's house, calling out, "Selling earthenware pots—" hoping to see his sister playfully shouting her wares.

The older sister, who was tidying up the yard, looked up and saw her younger brother: "Hope, come inside quickly, have some water, and rest for a while." Hope put his load into the yard and took out two earthenware basins: "Sister, these are for you to use."

The older sister opened the cupboard to get change for her younger brother, but Xiwang stopped her, saying, "Use what you have. If you want money, I'll take it back." The older sister had no choice but to give up and picked up the teapot to pour water for her brother.

My sleeping niece woke up, pouted when she saw strangers in the house, and her older sister picked her up. Hope stepped forward: "Come here! Let your uncle hold you." The child turned around and hugged her mother's neck.

"Uncle, Uncle!" the older sister instructed the child, who turned to look at his uncle.

Hope drank a cup of water, then got up to say goodbye to her sister and niece.

He picked up his load and went out. He hadn't sold any of the earthenware pots yet. He continued westward to Hezuo Village on the banks of the Luan River. He walked from east to west, calling out his wares as he went. By the time he reached the west side of the village, he had sold almost all of his pots.

In the courtyard of the "fortress household," Gao Xiang sat on a stone, peeling sorghum stalks, trying to strike up a conversation in a sales-oriented tone: "Brother, want to buy a set of basins?"

"Bring him in, let me see!" Gao Xiang let Hope in.

The two often bumped into each other at the market, exchanging knowing glances without saying a word.

Today is different, in this quiet little courtyard.

"Can I call you big brother?" Hope asked.

"Yes," Gao Xiang replied.

Hope, having grown up without fathers or brothers, was approachable and kind, and often shared revolutionary principles with Gao Xiang, who was more than ten years older than him. Hope admired this underground party member from the bottom of his heart.

As he spoke, Gao Xiang peeled the thin strips of sorghum stalks, pinching them into finger-length pieces and laying them out. Hope, looking on with a puzzled expression, asked, "Do you still do hand weaving?"

Gao Xiang laughed: "No, our Eighth Route Army had few bullets, so we peeled them off piece by piece and stuffed them into bullet pouches to scare the enemy."

Hope smiled and gave a thumbs up.

Gao Xiang led hope into the house and took out the intelligence: "You must deliver this to the Qian'an base area tomorrow. Are you confident?"

Hoping to emulate the Eighth Route Army, he gave a serious salute: "I guarantee to complete the mission!" Gao Xiang patted him on the shoulder.

The sun was still high in the sky when he hoped to pick up his load: "I need to load up the earthenware pot first so I can leave directly from home tomorrow. I also need to buy bran from Shimen Street to take home; my family is waiting for rice to cook."

Looking at Hope's retreating figure, Gao Xiang thought, "He's a promising talent."