Chen Mianmian thought Xiao Li wanted to take her to the crime scene.
But no, Xiao Li took her to the Steel Plant’s new, still unoccupied family housing area under construction.
A large group of police and Steel Plant security were there, and three big wooden crates lay on the ground.
Zhao Lingcheng was present, as was the Public Security Bureau chief and Yan General from the Steel Plant.
Yan General stood with his hands on his hips, inspecting the items.
Seeing Chen Mianmian from afar, he smiled, “Xiao Chen, I heard you found this first?”
Inside the three crates were the spoils Xu brothers plundered from the people.
Officer Xiao Li said, “Secretary Yan, the leader said women hold up half the sky. Comrade Xiao Chen is exactly that.”
Yan General was there because the police notified him.
Besides being the Steel Plant party secretary, he was also Quancheng’s deputy city party secretary, a big shot.
Zhao Lingcheng and the bureau chief chatted while Chen Mianmian examined the spoils the Xu brothers had hidden over years.
Peeking into an opened crate, she suddenly felt an inexplicable sadness.
She now understood why the Xu family, once fallen landlords driven from their homes, could rise again as urban Brahmins.
As always, reading more books made the difference!
The female side hoarded food and grain, but the Xu brothers hoarded gold rings, gold earrings, gold and silver brooches, pocket watches.
There were even silver dollars, various copper coins, and watches packed in tin cans—four or five cans in total.
Grain stored for years spoiled, but gold and silver were hard currency.
Copper coins and the like would one day become priceless antiques.
No matter how capable, what the female side hoarded could at most keep them from starving.
But the Xu family, as former landlords and future Brahmins, would always be wealthy.
According to current criminal law, embezzlement over 500 yuan meant execution.
But since everything was cheap now, reaching 500 yuan was not easy.
So the city bureau chief told the police, “If we don’t execute Xu Dagang, the Red Guards won’t accept it. But with these goods, it doesn’t add up to 500 yuan. Search the scene again.”
Zhao Lingcheng said, “No need. I personally went down into the water cellar. I’m sure everything’s taken.”
The chief said, “But with just these goods, it doesn’t reach 500 yuan. What then?”
This was the contradiction between law and revolution.
The Red Guards were young and impulsive; hearing of embezzlement, they insisted on execution.
But police could not enforce laws arbitrarily.
There were standards.
Too many death sentences would draw criticism from the Ministry of Public Security.
Setting that aside, Zhao Lingcheng saw Chen Mianmian approaching and introduced her to the bureau chief: “Leader, this is my wife, Chen Mianmian.”
He emphasized, “She discovered and reported the stolen goods.”
The bureau chief smiled, “A female comrade found it—impressive.”
Chen Mianmian looked at Zhao Lingcheng and asked, “Leader, there’s a reward for reporting embezzlement, right?”
That lousy man thought she couldn’t raise a child.
Wrong.
This time, she was almost earning herself a washing machine.
As the whistleblower, she was here for the reward.
The bureau chief was a stern middle-aged man.
He handed over the files, indicating Chen Mianmian should sign, and said, “There is indeed a reward. For reporting 500 yuan of embezzlement, you get 50 jin of food coupons. But we’re short on grain now. You’ll get it in June.”
Fifty jin of food coupons was valuable—enough to exchange for grain—but it was an empty promise?
Afraid Chen Mianmian would be disappointed, Yan General said, “Grain must be reserved for special troops and workers. Recently, supplies to places like the Labor Reform Farm and educated youth teams have been cut again and again. Comrade Xiao Chen understands and sympathizes.”
Everyone was barely making ends meet; her wanting a reward was a bit tactless.
Chen Mianmian could only say, “No rush.”
There were three crates total.
Gold and silver were few, but one crate was full of canned meat.
The police were drooling because red-braised beef canned food was now extremely rare.
In recent years, gearing up for war, these cans were no longer supplied in state stores.
Yan General picked up a can, looking at the bureau chief, “How about rewarding Xiao Chen a can?”
The bureau chief said, “Leader, the nuclear base hasn’t had meat for a long time. Some experts have health problems.”
Yan General quickly said, “Experts must have meat. We don’t want the Americans bombing us with nukes; we still rely on them. Immediately, send it over.”
So a can of beef slipped through Chen Mianmian’s fingers.
Luckily, she had wild boar meat stored and wasn’t craving meat, or she’d have cried.
Another crate was full of leather shoes, belts, wool socks, and the like.
Yan General looked at Zhao Lingcheng, “This crate, should we just let the prisoners keep it?”
Before he finished, Zhao Lingcheng suddenly grabbed a shoe with one hand, picked up the crate with canned goods and gold and silver, and walked away.
Yan General was stunned.
Chen Mianmian grabbed two shoes, raised them high, and shouted, “Classmates, look at me, look! The stolen goods are here!”
The bureau chief saw a group of Red Guards coming and sharply ordered the police, “Hurry up and help Engineer Zhao.”
The police helped Zhao Lingcheng carry the two crates away.
As they left, a few Red Guards arrived.
Seeing Chen Mianmian holding the shoes, several boys ran toward her.
Yan General realized that because the Red Guards came, Zhao Lingcheng hurried to take the goods away.
He personally handed over the crate with clothes to the Red Guards and saluted, “Hello, comrades.”
Though he was a big boss in Quancheng, the Red Guards didn’t respect him and only asked Chen Mianmian, “Sister, we’re here for the stolen goods. Where are they?”
Chen Mianmian held up the leather shoes, “Look at these shoes, such good leather, so sturdy. These are definitely foreign trade goods, maybe worth hundreds or thousands. This is what Xu Dagang embezzled.”
Yan General also raised a crate, “Look, here’s more, a whole crate full.”
To show revolutionary zeal, the Red Guards hated to wear shoes in winter and definitely didn’t wear leather shoes.
They carried the stolen goods to display, but sadly asked, “No meat?”
The bureau chief, Yan General, and Chen Mianmian all shook their heads, “No meat.”
The Red Guards were disappointed but had no choice, carrying a crate of worn shoes and clothes away.
The police had to leave quickly.
The precious meat cans had to be delivered to the nuclear base.
The gold and silver jewelry would be weighed and registered before being sent back to the Steel Plant tomorrow.
Because the country was doing something very important—paying debts to the Soviet Union—and was short of gold and silver.
All gold and silver were melted down and compensated to the Soviet Union at international prices.
It was a strange era, as embezzlement was almost nonexistent.
People weren’t afraid of war but didn’t want war; they just wanted to farm and eat their fill.
They hated corruption most of all.
So after everyone left, Yan General told the bureau chief, “No matter how you calculate, you must find 500 yuan worth. Peeling the skin off rightists’ shoes and belts, hiding gold and silver, and so many canned meats—the Xu brothers must be executed!”
The bureau chief nodded, “Yes, leader.”
Yan General turned and smiled at Zhao Lingcheng, giving a thumbs-up, “As expected from aerospace strike work, Engineer Zhao, you’re sharp! When the Red Guards came sneaking for the loot, everyone was immersed in harvest joy and didn’t notice, but you did and saved the goods. Gold and silver are hard currency; the Red Guards dared not hide them. But they were all starving badly. Seeing the meat cans, they’d surely fight and eat them all.”
It was almost eight p.m., the sun was setting.
Everyone else had left, leaving only Yan General.
He said, “The base hasn’t supplied meat in a long time. Xiao Chen must be craving meat too, but our pigs aren’t grown yet. When Wei Cuiyun and I finish resting, we’ll go hunt wild boars and send some over.”
Zhao Lingcheng nodded but said, “I heard Wei Cuiyun has excellent marksmanship.”
Wei Cuiyun, Section Chief Wei, was the female lead’s dream man.
Chen Mianmian hadn’t met him yet. He and Yan General were comrades.
Yan General gossiped about Wei, “Quancheng is the hub for paying Soviet debts. I wanted to work in the railway department to escort goods to the Soviets, but my shooting wasn’t as good as Wei Cuiyun’s, so I handled the Steel Plant while he took the railways.”
Before ’65, there was □□, followed by paying Soviet debts.
The south was fine; you could dig a bit from the fields and eat enough.
But the Northwest was truly starving.
This year, thanks to artificial rain, the harvest looked good but wasn’t ripe yet.
Zhao Lingcheng didn’t like Yan General’s dialect and his unwashed smell.
But he admired the man because hunting meat wasn’t in Yan’s duties, and the canned beef could’ve been kept for himself.
Yet Yan chose to send it all to the nuclear base for the experts.
He was coarse but respected knowledge and was willing to learn—a good man.
Zhao Lingcheng nodded but said gently, “Compared to us, the rightists and educated youth are hungrier and need grain more.”
Yan General interrupted, “They deserve to be hungry; grain must go to you first.”
He added, “Stay at the Steel Plant tonight. Wait, I’ll bring some good stuff for you to eat.”
Saying that, he jumped into his convertible and left in a hurry.
In the distance, the noise continued.
The criticism meeting probably hadn’t ended.
Chen Mianmian was tired and decided to return to the Steel Plant guesthouse.
Zhao Lingcheng couldn’t visit the farm today because after 5:30 p.m., no visits were allowed to the Labor Reform Farm.
He had to bring the bag of oat there tomorrow morning.
His motorcycle was returned and luggage still strapped on.
Walking toward the bike, though clueless, he asked, “Uh, Niuniu, she’s okay, right?”
Chen Mianmian nodded and asked, “You saw your uncle today, right? Is he alright?”
The road wasn’t far, but the construction site was rough.
Zhao Lingcheng pushed the bike, and Chen Mianmian walked.
His voice was low, “He’s okay.”
Lin Yan hadn’t cut his hair for at least a year.
His hair and beard had grown matted.
Rarely coming to the city, he shaved his head and bathed.
When militia led him out, Zhao Lingcheng met him—clean and not swollen.
Because swollen, bloated people were in danger.
Being thin was safer.
But Zhao Lingcheng heard from the police that the Red Flag Labor Reform Farm was even hungrier than he thought.
Besides Lin Yan, who was a suspected enemy agent, the others were a group of rebellious old revolutionaries who angered the Red Guards.
The city wouldn’t increase their grain; they were rumored to be close to starvation.
This year, due to artificial rain, Hexi would have a bumper crop.
But harvest was still over a month away—would those old revolutionaries survive?
Zhao Lingcheng was very worried.
If the old Chen Mianmian had existed to torment him, this new one existed to save him.
Hands on hips from fatigue, walking slowly in the sunset, she first asked, “Today I treated Ma Jiye and Ma Jiguang to three jin of mutton. You’re unhappy about that and still think they’re stupid, right?”
Zhao Lingcheng saw the sunset shining on her face, the blush on her cheeks like the rouge his mother liked to apply.
When the highland red faded, it made her look more vivid—earthy and simple, like the fields and mountains.
She had big, beautiful eyes that originally lacked luster and moisture, as if wooden.
Somewhere along the way, her eyes gained light.
His heart suddenly beat fast, and he looked away, “The base only supplies mutton in July.”
He added, “By then Niuniu will be born. If she’s too small, it’ll be hard to raise her.”
Only state-run hotels in the Northwest could slaughter sheep on the spot to serve those with merits.
Sheep were fed until July when they were fat enough for slaughter.
Zhao Lingcheng only had three jin of meat coupons, hoping to fatten his wife and child.
But all the mutton was eaten by the two dumb brothers.
Could he feel comfortable?
Chen Mianmian sneered, “You think they’re dirty and stupid.”
Zhao Lingcheng was frank, “They really are too stupid. But stupid people always suffer most in any situation.”
Chen Mianmian said, “But what if we send them to the Labor Reform Farm as militia?”
Zhao Lingcheng stopped, instinctively said, “They won’t hit people or embezzle, because they don’t dare.”
The Ma brothers were honest to the point of pathetic, wouldn’t get angry even if called dumb in their faces, and after a few bites of mutton, they clamored to help clean dung and reinforce water cellars.
They hated Xu Dagang but dared not touch him because they were honest.
Zhao Lingcheng had a thought and looked back at his ex-wife—no, now his current wife and love.
At eight o’clock, as the bell rang and the sun set, her face was swallowed by twilight.
But her words shone like light as she said, “Try to transfer them to the Red Flag Labor Reform Farm. How about that?”
Was she trying to repay classmates?
No. For a single meal, the Ma brothers regarded Zhao Lingcheng as their big brother.
When it came to family and old leaders, they wouldn’t hit but care for them.
Being stupid was kindness. Kind people don’t hit others; they feel gratitude and repay kindness.
Zhao Lingcheng realized his father was right—laboring people were truly the most lovable.
But in his eyes, Chen Mianmian’s suggestion was already incredible enough.
Yet she surprised him more.
She said, “I secretly hoard some grain at my mother’s house. It’s not good grain and will just be eaten by mice if left. I know the Labor Reform Farm is starving most. So if you need it…”
Not only Lin Yan was starving at the labor farm; everyone was close to death.
But Chen Mianmian said she had grain.
She said she had grain!
Zhao Lingcheng didn’t hesitate: “Of course, I want it!”
In the dusk, Chen Mianmian turned and smiled, “You want it? Trade it for Niuniu’s custody.”