Yang Zhi replied with a display of determination, “Mmm, I’ll listen to Mom. I’ll make sure to thoroughly clean up our family’s patch of land.”
There was a palpable sense of drive just hearing it.
Cheng Ying sighed; tending to the land—the very thought of it offered no glimpse of the future.
What was the actual career trajectory for her own mother? She thought about the ancestral trade: proctology.
A grimace twisted Cheng Ying’s lips. Never mind that her own mother was unwilling; even if she were willing, the old lady wouldn't approve.
Alas, this life. Paths to prosperity existed, but every single one seemed irrevocably blocked.
The old lady glanced up at Wu Zi’s Dad. “Wu Zi’s Dad, you’ll be trailing around with the production team after the New Year. Those sheep will probably be disposed of once the land is officially divided. Nothing too serious, just mind your interactions with people. Don’t stand out too much, but certainly don’t be a doormat either. If trouble really starts, we aren't afraid of anyone.”
Another round of golden wisdom.
Chi Yong felt deeply grateful. Never mind that the old lady was a woman; if she truly backed him up, very few in the village would dare cross him.
One had to consider the sharpness of the old lady’s tongue. Anyone who wanted to provoke her needed to think twice. “Mmm, I’ll listen to you, Mom. I understand.”
No matter how Cheng Ying listened, her stepfather’s accent sounded distinctly Southern, yet Chi Wu had mentioned that their family wasn't from the South either. She truly couldn't figure it out.
This man revealed nothing about himself, and everything about him felt subtly off-kilter.
But precisely because of Cheng Ying’s age and current mindset, this wasn't the right time to voice her questions.
What was this stepfather’s real background?
Cheng Ying thought that if she were a few years older, she could directly discuss this issue with her stepfather.
But as she was now, a mere grubby child, she had no standing to speak, much less any power to make definitive choices.
She could only watch as things slowly unfolded, leaving her feeling profoundly helpless.
Fortunately, she wasn't a prophet; her pessimism didn't guarantee a brutally tragic outcome.
A sliver of hope always remained in her heart.
She prayed her little family would remain safe and sound. Cheng Ying dared not ask the Heavens for blessings, but one had to leave a sliver of possibility open. Otherwise, life would be unlivable.
Cheng Ying thoroughly enjoyed the New Year's Eve dinner; despite the heavy thoughts swirling in her mind, it didn't stop her from stuffing her face.
After all, having been here for quite some time, this was perhaps the only opportunity—if not the very first—to eat her fill, and with meat included.
Life was hard; no wonder every child here looked forward to the New Year.
Turns out, during the New Year, one could actually fill their stomach.
Cheng Ying finally understood why people in later eras spoke of feeling nothing for the New Year—they lived lives too comfortable.
Try living here for one month. It would surely bring tears of gratitude to your eyes during the holiday.
After eating, her mother heated the kang until it was warm, and her stepfather turned around to feed the sheep again.
Cheng Ying joined her own old lady and her mother in making dumplings. Naturally, Cheng Ying was just an observer. She knew how to make them, but the old lady dared not let her participate, fearing she would be punished and go nearly a year without tasting a few pounds of white flour.
Sitting on the warm kang, Cheng Ying pondered; although her personal space wasn't highly productive for grain, she really should plant some corn.
Just thinking about the sorghum rice they ate for lunch today made her stomach prickle uncomfortably.
Yet, in her own home, they treated sorghum as fine grain.
In this era, even sorghum was considered precious.
Lost in thought, Cheng Ying drifted off to sleep. No matter what she planned or what she might plant, she needed time inside her space to actually do anything.
With people constantly visiting the house lately, Cheng Ying hadn't entered her space in ages. She wondered how everything inside looked now.
By the time the old lady finished wrapping the dumplings, she felt Cheng Ying’s back—damp with sweat.
The kang was simply too hot.
The old lady quickly woke her granddaughter. “Yingzi, get up, let the sweat air out. You can’t just mope inside on New Year’s Day. Go out later with Wu Zi and play with Mingzi.”
Drowsily, Cheng Ying grasped the old lady’s meaning: she was supposed to visit her paternal uncles’ homes. It was New Year’s, after all; even without bringing gifts, one had to make social calls.
However, Cheng Ying mused, neither her eldest nor second uncle had given the old lady anything. Were they truly that poor? Didn’t people usually show filial respect to the elders during holidays?
The village captain had even mentioned this matter during the family division. But since the old lady herself didn't mind, Cheng Ying wouldn't press the issue either. As long as the old lady was happy, that was all that mattered.
Besides, the old lady was probably being implicated by her own presence. Her uncles likely avoided visiting Grandma because they feared giving gifts only for the old lady to hand them straight to Cheng Ying.
If it weren't for the old lady, Cheng Ying wouldn't even bother making these visits. Perhaps because she had just woken up, Cheng Ying hadn't managed to properly compose her expression.
Her grandmother swatted her lightly. “You little brat, what’s with that look? Did I say something wrong? Hurry up and get off that bed. It’s still early before the next meal!”
Saying that, she grabbed a towel and began wiping the sweat from her granddaughter’s back.
Cheng Ying sat up. “Grandma, stop fussing. It’s not much sweat; a little breeze will cool me down.”
She had just been too hot while sleeping. Her skin felt prickly.
The old lady forgot all about the New Year and slapped Cheng Ying’s back. “You foolish child, sweating in the dead of winter and then going out into the wind? That’s asking for trouble!”
The old lady then spat onto the dirt floor. “Ptooey, ptooey. What am I saying on New Year’s Day? It’s you kids making me agitated. Don’t blame me, don’t blame me.”
That last part was definitely directed at the myriad gods and Buddhas above.
Cheng Ying shook her head; the gods and Buddhas must also be celebrating the New Year today; who would be watching?
She did worry about the dumplings just wrapped on the counter, though. Thankfully, the old lady’s spittle hadn’t landed askew; otherwise, the dumplings for New Year’s Eve might have had an unappetizing garnish.
Cheng Ying had her grandmother rub her down instead.
Outside, Chi Wu, having returned from feeding the sheep, joined Chi Yong who had just finished chopping firewood.
Cheng Ying beckoned, and Chi Wu followed her away. If there was one thing Cheng Ying felt accomplished about, it was molding Chi Wu.
Compared to when they first met, Chi Wu had undergone a heaven-and-earth transformation.
Look how obedient the boy was now—though she had also managed to subtly lead this paragon of virtue astray.
Cheng Ying and Chi Wu emerged from the yard. They had no fixed destination.
If they showed up at her eldest uncle’s house before they had eaten, the family might assume they were just freeloading. Everyone was struggling these days, and Cheng Ying didn’t want to invite disdain.
After careful consideration, Cheng Ying spoke up. “Let’s just wander around this area first. We’ll go see the Captain’s Third Wife.”
Cheng Ying knew that building good relationships wasn't just about the adults; getting along well with the neighbor’s children had a direct impact on the harmony between the two households.
Chi Wu had no objections; he had only come out to accompany Cheng Ying.
Chi Wu had always had poor relations with the other village children. In fact, the other children constantly ostracized him.
As Cheng Ying led Chi Wu along, she noticed nearly every household was busy chopping firewood.
Cheng Ying jokingly wondered if they couldn't afford firecrackers, so they chopped firewood to make some noise instead. “Why are they chopping so much wood?”
Chi Wu shot Cheng Ying a look of disdain. “They’re out earning work points every day; when would they have time to do this at home? Besides, tomorrow is the first day of the New Year, and you’re not allowed to use blades until the fifth. If they don’t chop the firewood today, they can look forward to sleeping on a cold kang.”
Cheng Ying blushed, embarrassed by Chi Wu’s sharp retort. “If you can’t use a cleaver for cooking, what do you eat?”
Chi Wu didn't even bother answering, just casting her a strange glance.
Cheng Ying immediately shut her mouth. Of course! She rarely cooked stir-fries or stews—they survived on a bowl of preserved sauce for weeks. What need did they have for a cleaver? And the first day of the New Year was spent eating leftovers—the holiday leftovers, at that.
Why had she opened her mouth to speak? She deserved to be looked down upon by this boy.
Why was New Year’s Day turning out so inconvenient?
Cheng Ying fell silent; the more she spoke, the more she erred.
Upon arriving at the Captain’s house, Cheng Ying’s gift for gab immediately shone through. From a distance, she called out, “Third Wife, I’ve come to offer my early New Year greetings!”
This time, it was Chi Wu who flushed red behind her. He had never seen anyone so brazenly familiar, acting as if she and Third Grandma were old confidantes.
Fortunately, the person inside had a disposition much like Cheng Ying’s. “Oh, Yingzi, Wu Zi, you’ve come! Hurry inside!”
This was the Captain’s wife speaking.
Cheng Ying and Chi Wu performed their greetings with the utmost respect. “Greetings, Grandma.”
Then they lifted the door curtain and entered Third Grandma’s room.
Third Grandma smiled broadly, her few remaining teeth visible. “Yingzi has come! Today’s greetings don’t require money, you know. You have to make up for it tomorrow!”
Third Grandma’s speech was slightly slurred, but Cheng Ying and Chi Wu understood perfectly.
Cheng Ying replied, “Third Grandma, I’ll definitely be back tomorrow, don’t you worry. You won’t be missing out on your lucky money.”
The old lady was delighted, simply enjoying the liveliness, and held onto Cheng Ying’s hand tightly.
A moment later, the Captain’s wife came in, carrying a plate of dried sweet potatoes.
She handed one to Cheng Ying and one to Chi Wu. “Quick, eat! Grandma doesn’t have much that’s special here.”
Cheng Ying smiled sweetly. “What is this? I love this stuff! I’ve never tasted it anywhere but at Third Grandma’s house.”
The Captain’s wife laughed, realizing Cheng Ying was complimenting her generosity.
After all, her own children didn't have much to eat, yet she was offering delicacies to visiting children.
The Captain’s wife chuckled. “Only our Yingzi knows how to talk. If you want more later, just come to Grandma’s house, and I’ll save some for you.”
Cheng Ying was quite pleased; at least the foundation of a relationship had been established.
They stayed talking with Third Grandma for quite a while before leaving the Captain’s house. As for the Captain’s own children, it wasn't that Cheng Ying hadn't seen them; it was that the Captain’s family didn’t have any children their age. Their eldest son was already in his twenties, and their youngest daughter was fifteen or sixteen and supposedly about to be married off.
Why would they socialize with two little brats? So, the route through the children was a dead end.
Despite the slight disappointment, Cheng Ying wasn't overly concerned.
Such things were often a matter of fate.
Cheng Ying could only conclude that she had lost one avenue for getting closer to the Captain’s family.
Emerging outside, they saw Mingzi, the eldest uncle's son, leading a group of children in play. “Yingzi, come play with us!”
The eldest brother was quite decent to this little sister.
Cheng Ying looked at the gang of kids rolling around in the dirt, fighting a mud war. She wouldn’t play such infantile games even if her life depended on it.
Then she saw the envious look in Chi Wu’s eyes.