Chapter 57 Is the background of the educated youth here really that significant?

Su Liang and Qin Fang were granted extra food on the condition that they wouldn’t cook or wash dishes. However, they could help with gathering firewood and gardening, though how much they’d contribute was left undecided. Thus, their plan to cook separately was thwarted.

Yet both of them had delicate tastes befitting their privileged backgrounds, and Liu Pandie’s cooking did not satisfy them at all. That evening, another quarrel erupted at the dinner table—Qin Fang complained about the coarse millet porridge scratching her throat; after just one sip, she couldn’t swallow another. Su Liang fared no better; he couldn’t stomach the porridge, and the dishes were bland, barely touched by oil. They felt it was unfair to pay extra and eat such swill, and demanded Liu Pandie and the others provide them with separate meals, offering to supply finer grains.

The others were infuriated, bluntly declaring that this was the standard: eat it or cook for themselves, but they wouldn’t be pampered. So, Qin Fang ended up crying at the table; after a whole day, neither of them had eaten any proper hot food, except for some dry rations and pastries.

After hearing Qian Li’s account, Xu Lin asked in confusion, “Didn’t they go to the commune today?”

“No, they slept in till noon. By the time they woke, everyone else had already returned from the commune. Why bother going then? They plan to go tomorrow morning,” Qian Li shrugged. “Tomorrow is a workday. If they show up just to ask for leave, the brigade leader’s impression of them will surely worsen. That affects their prospects of returning to the city. You, if there’s nothing urgent, should avoid taking leave as much as possible.”

Xu Lin nodded at Qian Li’s friendly advice, though she didn’t have to worry about returning to the city. After all, she’d treated the county magistrate’s mother today; although he paid her, he owed her a favor. If trouble came knocking, could Zheng Jianye refuse? With Old Zheng around, she was more influential than even the brigade leader. Xu Lin felt confident, but kept her composure and thanked Qian Li for her reminder.

“I’ll make braised goose in the iron pot later. Stay and have a piece,” Xu Lin invited.

Qian Li’s eyes sparkled with delight; though she’d just had meat yesterday, she was still tempted—especially by braised goose in an iron pot. “Then I won’t be shy. Next time, I’ll treat you to red-braised pork.”

She silently calculated her meat coupons; she could afford a meal at the restaurant.

As for cooking herself, Qian Li admitted her skills weren’t up to par and didn’t want to waste ingredients. The two quickly struck a deal, and Qian Li worked even more diligently, helping Xu Lin to sort the coal briquettes without a hint of distaste. Once they finished, the goose was cleaned, and Xu Lin flexed her wrists and began to cook.

Soon, the courtyard was filled with a rich aroma, so enticing that the young intellectuals lying on their beds couldn’t stay put. One after another, they peeked out to investigate. When they learned Xu Lin was making braised goose in an iron pot, their envy was palpable. Salivating, they wondered if Xu Lin might share a few pieces, and this hope made them abandon their beds, donning coats and sitting on the kang, waiting.

Had Xu Lin known their thoughts, she would surely have laughed. They never showed up when there was work to be done, but appeared with eager mouths when there was food—life wasn’t so generous. Qian Li didn’t eat for free; she brought a few pastries for Xu Lin to sample, sent from her family. Han Hong and Zhang Qiang each contributed a jar of canned food to supplement the meal; none ate for nothing.

Those who sat waiting in their rooms, hoping for a share, ended up with empty stomachs, never receiving a morsel from Xu Lin. She was famished herself—how could she spare food for others? The four sat around the pot, eating and chatting, mostly listening to Qian Li speak.

From her stories, Xu Lin learned that although there wasn’t much work now, most tasks were physically demanding—either clearing land or fertilizing. And it wasn’t chemical fertilizer, but farm manure, which stank and wasn’t suitable for people with a cleanliness obsession. Still, the work points were decent; as long as you weren’t afraid of filth, you could take on the fertilizing job.

Xu Lin and the others were new arrivals, and barring surprises, would be assigned to land reclamation the next day. The male intellectuals would dig, while the females would pick out stones, dry grass, roots, and other debris. The reclaimed land could be planted come spring.

Han Hong and Zhang Qiang had no experience with farming, and only knew tomorrow would be hard labor. Zhang Qiang couldn’t help but ask, “What happens if you don’t finish the task? Can you ask for less work?”

“Failing to finish means fewer work points. You can request lighter tasks, but if your basic work points aren’t enough, you’re not eligible for the grain ration. Then you’ll have to buy work points with money.” Qian Li appraised Zhang Qiang. “If money isn’t an issue for you, you can ask for less work. Even frequent leave won’t matter much, except the brigade leader will think poorly of you, which might affect your chances of returning to the city.”

“Does the brigade leader really have that much control over who returns?” Zhang Qiang asked.

“It depends. As long as things don’t get too ugly, offering generous gifts before you leave usually gets you cleared. The brigade leader of Wangzhuang isn’t a bad sort—he won’t bully or make things difficult for intellectuals. But if you cross the line, he’ll dig in his heels.

Last year, a male intellectual caused all kinds of trouble. If his family hadn’t had influence, he’d have been sent to a labor camp. Eventually, his family pulled strings to get him back to the city, but he was stuck at the brigade leader’s gate for over a month. Finally, his family brought generous gifts and pleaded with the brigade leader’s son, and only then was he allowed to leave.

I heard his family was furious and wanted to retaliate, but before they could act, they received a letter. Its message was simple: don’t make trouble, or the young man would end up in a labor camp. Ultimately, the family realized they couldn’t afford to make powerful enemies, and understood the brigade leader had backing. He wasn’t someone they could destroy on a whim, so they sent a letter to reconcile, along with many gifts.

“Who backs the brigade leader?” Han Hong asked, curious.

“No one knows for sure, but it’s said to be someone with great influence. Even the commune gives him face. He’s normally quite easygoing, doesn’t fuss about everything—so long as appearances are kept up, he won’t lose his temper,” Qian Li sighed. “Because he’s so tolerant, troublesome intellectuals often end up assigned to Wangzhuang.”

Xu Lin and her companions feigned shock, responding in unison. “Do the intellectuals here have powerful backgrounds?” Xu Lin gestured around.

“Those with real connections have mostly returned to the city, unless they had special reasons to stay. The ones left are those unwilling or unable to return—most are just ordinary cases without a way out,” Qian Li pointed at Huang Zishu’s room. “Those two stayed for special reasons. If you notice odd behavior, don’t follow them; it’ll only lead to awkwardness. We claim to be here supporting rural development, but everyone has their own reasons or constraints. Helping others is helping yourself, isn’t it?”