Chapter 10

The third house in the fifteenth row on the north side of Xiaotang Village.

The snow falling from the sky had barely touched the roof before it was melted by the hot, steamy air seeping from inside. Water dripped from the eaves, *drip, drop, drip, drop*.

Su Liuhe, having dutifully finished her eye exercises while standing by the window, returned to the *kang* to resume sewing her padded jacket. She hadn't left the house in five days!

She had added sleeves to that thin padded tunic for Gu Yiren to wear; he was out chopping wood and working all day, and he would be freezing without a thick jacket. Even though he claimed he wasn't cold, Su Liuhe insisted he wear it. As for herself, she was terrified of getting a sty, so she moved at a leisurely pace with her own new jacket.

She couldn't step outside without it, so she spent her days at home, pitifully rushing to finish the work. She finally understood the plight of families who had to take turns wearing a single pair of trousers—it was damnably miserable!

Fortunately, it was the slack farming season. Coriander’s mother and a few other local women came over daily to learn tailoring from her, which kept the room warm. Though, in truth, she suspected they were just coming to leech off the warmth of her *kang*. No other household burned firewood like hers—not a moment of rest. That was because they didn't have a laborer as capable as Gu Yiren; they simply wouldn't have had enough wood to burn.

She didn't feel cold even in her single-layered shirt and trousers while sitting on the *kang*; in fact, she had to leave a crack in the window just to let in a cooling breeze. Gu Yiren hadn't just stacked enough firewood to last the whole winter in the yard; he even had the time and skill to secretly trade some for grain and cotton.

On the windowsill outside, a small, thin piece of cured meat hung. It was a portion of the hind leg from the village’s communal New Year pig. Gu Yiren had salted it, and whenever Su Liuhe craved meat, she would slice off a few pieces to stir-fry. If she was frugal, it would last until after the New Year.

Su Liuhe was sitting alone at home when a voice called out from outside: "Sister-in-law!"

Su Liuhe rolled her eyes. "Come on in."

Coriander’s mother entered, repeatedly glancing back at the courtyard. Su Liuhe sat at the head of the *kang* and asked, "What's the matter?"

"I saw someone walking toward your place just now," Coriander’s mother said. "How come they vanished the moment we showed up?"

"Probably just passing by," Su Liuhe replied.

Coriander’s mother had come in with Auntie Wang and Mother Song. She produced two eggs and offered them to Su Liuhe. "Here, have some eggs. That medicinal cake you gave me really worked—the acne marks on my daughter's face have faded. She was staring in the mirror all morning."

Auntie Wang used a small broom to brush the dust off her clothes, knowing Su Liuhe liked things clean. She looked on eagerly and said, "Her skin has become so smooth and tender, and I think it’s even gotten fairer. Tell me, would those medicinal cakes work for someone my age?"

Coriander’s mother teased her, "Your face has as many wrinkles as the yellow chrysanthemums in my basin, yet you still have the nerve to be vain. Who are you trying to look pretty for at your age?"

Su Liuhe didn't actually know how the chestnut skin-care cakes worked on wrinkles, as neither she nor Gu Yiren had any. To prevent everyone from coming over to mooch off her, she simply said, "It’s a secret family recipe. Whether it works on wrinkles depends on the person. It’s good for the skin, certainly, but not everyone can eat it—it depends on fate. The herbs are all gathered by Xiao Yi deep in the mountains; there aren't many to begin with."

Mother Song, a shrewd woman, knew Su Liuhe wouldn't give them away for nothing. If she hadn't seen the improvement in Coriander’s face, she wouldn't have joined them in rushing over. As luck would have it, her daughter had a large patch of discoloration on her face. It had grown larger over the past two years, hindering her chances of finding a husband. She had come hoping to beg for some cakes to try—what if they worked?

Mother Song glanced at Coriander’s mother, who leaned in to assist, saying to Su Liuhe, "Look at yourself—you're so radiant, you don't even need medicine. Our families are close, and I know you’ve taken a liking to my Coriander. But Sister Song’s daughter is in a special situation. If you can cure her, you’ll definitely be rewarded. You’re the miracle doctor of Xiaotang Village, after all."

Su Liuhe was keen to earn some extra cash and saw right through them. Seeing that she didn't deny it, Mother Song leaned in and pressed five yuan and a cloth ration coupon into her hand. "Sister-in-law, please, have some pity on the child. She’s grown up now and cries at home every day. If this keeps up, something bad is bound to happen."

Su Liuhe smiled brightly as she accepted the coupon, but she returned the money. Coupons could be considered a loan, but taking cash would be "speculation and profiteering."

She climbed off the *kang* and slipped into her shoes. "I’m just a kind-hearted person; how could I bear to see a youngster suffer? Wait here. I’ll make you a week’s supply. If it doesn't improve, I’ll return the coupon. If it does, we’ll continue."

Mother Song was overcome with excitement and tried to follow her, but Su Liuhe blocked the door. "Sister, just wait inside."

***

Once Mother Song had entered the room, she asked nervously, "Do you think she can really do it?"

"Why wouldn't she?" Coriander’s mother replied. "You saw my daughter with your own eyes. Do you think we’d team up to scam you out of a cloth coupon? Do you know how much money you’ve spent in secret trying to get her treated? Now that there's an opportunity, why not try it?"

Mother Song slapped her own mouth. "Look at me. If it works, I’d be willing to kneel and kowtow to her."

Coriander’s mother knew Su Liuhe was vain, so she whispered, "No need to kowtow. Just send over some good things from your home."

"I definitely will!" Mother Song promised.

In the kitchen, Su Liuhe held a jar of pickles and poured out the chestnuts, grinning from ear to ear. She was about to finish her padded jacket and needed fabric for pajamas. She couldn't keep wearing just a vest and underwear and diving into the covers—it was too indecent.

"Huh? Did I already take today’s chestnuts?" Only half the chestnuts remained in the jar. Su Liuhe stood on the kitchen counter and rummaged through the hanging basket, finding them there. She didn't think much of it.

She peeled the chestnuts outside, gnashing her teeth, then ground the boiled chestnuts into balls the size of pigeon eggs. She mixed in a bit of sweet potato flour, rolled them into cakes with a rolling pin, and dry-roasted them in a small pot without oil. The resulting cakes were charred and hard enough to crack a tooth.

If she were making them for Gu Yiren, she’d be willing to use oil—she had just bought half a bottle of soybean oil—but for others, she was stingy to the core. Besides, she had nothing better to do in the winter than sit around and gnaw on them.

She dawdled in the kitchen for a long time before handing the seven "medicinal cakes" to Mother Song. Mother Song wrapped them in red wrapping paper and hurried home, unable to wait.

Su Liuhe hadn't put in too many chestnuts; she feared drawing attention if the results were too dramatic. Giving them to Coriander had already been a bit too effective, which was why Mother Song had come. This time, she used fewer chestnuts; if Mother Song’s daughter ate them consistently, the slow improvement would be less likely to raise eyebrows.

"Sister, keep sewing. I’m going to the supply and marketing cooperative to trade for some fabric." After obtaining the cloth coupon, Su Liuhe began layering her clothes, tucking her shirt in three layers thick.

Coriander’s mother was sweltering and offered her own old padded jacket: "Take mine."

Su Liuhe looked at the shiny elbows and the two patches on the chest of the jacket and politely declined.

After buying a piece of fine cotton cloth she liked from one of Coriander’s friends, Su Liuhe was walking down the road when she saw a group of people approaching. The laughing voices were familiar—it was Su Huidi and her group.

The leader was Li Hongxing, the original Su Liuhe’s former beau. Beside him was Zhao Daqing, the head of the grain and oil store, who held a rank higher than Li Hongxing. He had a bureaucratic air about him; he wasn't tall and was younger than Li Hongxing, looking to be about twenty-seven or twenty-eight. Compared to the somewhat greasy-looking Li Hongxing, he appeared quite decent and refined.

Su Huidi and her family were fawning over him the whole way. After all, his father was a cadre in the county committee secretariat, and he held real power himself. He was the highest-ranking official Su Huidi had ever met.

Zhao Daqing was delivering relief grain to the countryside by truck and taking the opportunity to pick up some pickled vegetables, which the village kept in stock, to honor his grandmother. She loved them, and every holiday, she insisted on having pickled vegetable and meat dumplings. He spoke to the Su family with a bureaucratic tone, his expression one of disdain and impatience.

Su Huidi had heard that the grain and oil station needed a clerk to record the weight and types of grain entering and leaving the warehouse. It was a desk job with no need for receptions, offering three days of work a week and a salary of twenty-seven yuan, which increased with seniority. She figured that if she were to marry into the city, she needed a job, and where would she find a better situation than the grain and oil station?

Seeing that Zhao Daqing was about the same age as Li Hongxing but dressed in a crisp cadre uniform and Liberation shoes, she realized the vast difference that even a half-rank gap could make.

At home, Chen Xiulan had minced over a pound of pork from the year-end distribution to make dumplings, but Zhao Daqing was already tired of meat; he didn't drink with Su Jianguo and left after only a few bites. It seemed Su Huidi’s job prospects still needed some work.

Chen Xiulan kept winking at Li Hongxing, who was just about to speak to his boss when he saw a charming figure he had been dreaming of.

Zhao Daqing froze.

The young girl running toward them had a vibrant face even