Chapter 55
Yan Lei got some whitewash for Qiao Wei. He also borrowed a set of tools and brushes, including a roller.
Compared to later generations, everything was crudely made. The roller used for brushing high places was attached to a bamboo pole; he had to use rope to tie the roller handle to the bamboo pole.
It was that simple.
But it didn’t matter, as long as it worked.
The first room to be brushed was, of course, Yan Xiang’s room. Both the inner and outer walls were too dirty.
Starting with the inner room first.
Qiao Wei first rolled up everything on his kang, moving the mattress and mats to the west room.
Yan Xiang didn’t have a large wardrobe; large wardrobes were major household items at that time, and children didn’t have them.
He had a wooden chest for his clothes for all four seasons.
There was also a simple small shelf, obviously made from leftover wood. It had three tiers, and a cloth curtain was nailed on top—this was Yan Xiang’s own simple little wardrobe. He would wash his current season’s clothes, fold them neatly, and put them inside. Being a sensible child, he would find his own clothes to wear from it.
The chest and the simple little wardrobe were placed against the wall on the kang, so they didn’t need to be moved, just shifted to the middle of the kang.
There were two small stools on the floor; other than that, there was nothing else in the room.
It was empty, so the dirty walls were particularly conspicuous.
But this made brushing the walls very convenient; there were no large pieces of furniture that needed to be moved.
The whitewash of this era was neither putty nor the latex paint of later generations. They didn’t have such good things as latex paint back then.
The main ingredient of this whitewash was lime. Brushing whitewash meant brushing with lime water.
Qiao Wei had learned the water-to-powder ratio for mixing the whitewash from Yan Lei. After mixing a basin, she first used a brush to test it on the wall by the bedroom door. It wasn’t bad; it turned white after brushing.
Qiao Wei carried the basin onto the kang and climbed up herself.
Yan Lei had brought back some old newspapers from Battalion Headquarters. Qiao Wei spread the newspapers on the kang to prevent the whitewash from dripping everywhere. The roller was tied to the bamboo pole. She dipped the roller into the basin until it was soaked, lifted it up, and shook it up and down. Once it stopped dripping, she raised it to brush the wall.
Yan Xiang had been watching from the side the whole time.
Qiao Wei said to him, “Go play in the courtyard.”
Yan Xiang wouldn’t go.
“Go read a book.”
Yan Xiang wouldn’t go either. “I want to watch you brush the wall.”
“Then you can watch.”
Qiao Wei quickly realized that Yan Lei was right; this job was really… extremely tiring.
Manual labor was definitely not as easy as it looked.
But fortunately, Qiao Wei was renovating her own home, and she wasn’t doing this for a living. She wasn’t rushing, brushing slowly line by line.
The roller covered a much larger area than a brush, so it was more efficient.
After Qiao Wei finished the highest part of the wall on the kang, she continued to use the roller for the middle section.
After a while, she suddenly heard Yan Xiang ask, “Mom, look, is this how you brush?”
Qiao Wei looked back and saw that Yan Xiang had taken advantage of her concentration to pick up the brush she wasn’t using, dipped it in the whitewash, and started brushing on the small patch by the door where she had tested the color.
By the time he called Qiao Wei, he had already brushed a rectangle that was half an arm’s length taller than his own height.
It was probably the highest point he could reach by standing on his tiptoes and reaching up.
Qiao Wei laughed.
“Are you tired?”
“Not tired, it’s fun. Mom, can I brush?”
“You’ve already brushed before asking. That’s called acting first and reporting later.”
“Then… can I or not?”
Qiao Wei currently had the roller tied to the bamboo pole, which made it inconvenient to brush the lower parts. She was thinking of brushing all the high parts around the room first, then untying the bamboo pole to brush the lower parts.
She didn’t expect Yan Xiang to follow her lead.
This era didn’t have the conveniences of later generations. It felt like everyone—regardless of gender—had to have strong hands-on skills.
Sister Yang was almost omnipotent. Lin Xixi was not to be outdone. They were all very capable.
Yan Lei was the same; he could do everything.
A characteristic of the era, perhaps. Qiao Wei felt she should also let Yan Xiang do more things with his hands. After all, Yan Xiang was the child who had completed the sandbox project on his own without adult help.
“You can, go ahead. You come up here; I’ll brush the high parts, and you brush the lower parts.”
Yan Xiang happily stepped onto a small stool and climbed onto the kang. The mother and son started working in coordination. Qiao Wei held the long-poled roller to brush the upper and middle parts, while Yan Xiang brushed the lower part on the other side.
Qiao Wei had to turn around and check on Yan Xiang from time to time, but she soon realized there was no need to worry.
Yan Xiang’s sense of order was too strong.
Actually, Yan Lei’s sense of order was also very strong. When he wrung out clothes, he would smooth them from the collar to the hem before wringing; towels were the same, wrung from one end to the other. Unlike some people who just balled them up and squeezed the water out randomly.
He also insisted on arranging the cushions on the daybed according to symmetry rules.
And Yan Xiang’s sense of order seemed even stronger. This was evident when he dug the sandbox.
He divided the sandbox into several equal parts, and each part’s workload was the amount he had finished on his first day of digging.
If it hadn’t been for the incident with Regimental Commander Zhao taking up so much of Yan Xiang’s time, Qiao Wei felt he really could have completed his planned amount methodically according to his own work schedule.
Later, to finish on time, he even “worked overtime” on Friday and Saturday to catch up.
So, on Sunday, he got his sandbox right on time as expected.
Now, standing on the kang brushing the wall, his trajectory was a bit like that of a robot vacuum. Neat, dense, without missing any spots.
Qiao Wei tilted her head and watched for a long time before she was startled by the passage of time.
Because it was really quite stress-relieving. If this were live-streamed in later generations, it probably wouldn’t lose to cleaning donkey hooves or washing carpets.
Qiao Wei said, “If you’re tired, take a rest. If your arms are sore, don’t brush anymore.”
Yan Xiang said, “Not tired.”
He was very focused.
Qiao Wei watched for a while longer, then suddenly called out to him, “Xiangxiang.”
Xiangxiang stopped and looked back at her mother.
Qiao Wei asked her, “You really like doing these things, right? Digging the sandbox, brushing the wall.”
A joyful smile appeared on Xiangxiang’s face: “Yes.”
“Why? What is it that you like about it?”
Xiangxiang thought for a moment and said, “Quiet.”
Qiao Wei gazed at her.
She said, “When digging the pit, when brushing the wall, it’s all quiet. It’s very comfortable.”
“When is it not quiet?”
“It’s not quiet a lot of the time.”
“For example?”
Xiangxiang thought for a moment and said very firmly, “A lot.”
Too many to give examples.
Qiao Wei changed the question: “When else do you feel quiet?”
Xiangxiang brightened up: “Reading books.”
Qiao Wei understood.
Qiao Wei felt a bit sad.
She was a bit annoyed at the author right now. Why didn’t they do a full setup before starting the book? Why write so recklessly? A period piece is no place for a “Genius Prodigy” setting; that’s for urban sweet romance novels.
Its purpose is to highlight the male lead’s superior genes and to dote on the female lead together with the male lead.
This reckless writing had trapped Yan Xiang in an unsuitable era.
His brain didn’t have enough nutrients to absorb, and most of the time, he had to endure the noise of the ordinary world. So he turned to seek another way—simple, repetitive physical activity.
No wonder in the first few days after she transmigrated, she saw him always squatting in the courtyard playing with small stones, repeatedly and repetitively performing the same process.
Qiao Wei sighed, “Understood, continue brushing.”
She turned back and continued to wave the bamboo pole up and down.
“Mom.” A soft, milky little voice sounded from behind her.
She turned to look at her.
“When Mom tells me things I don’t know, it’s also very quiet.” Xiangxiang said, “I really like talking to Mom.”
The child’s eyes were bright and clear, her smile innocent.
In an instant, it was like sunlight dispelling the slightly dim mood Qiao Wei had just felt. Her heart brightened in an instant, and her mood became cheerful.
“Is that so? Telling stories?” she asked excitedly.
“Stories I haven’t heard, and things I don’t know.”
“Got it! From now on, Mom will tell you more! Ask me if you don’t understand!”
“Okay!”
“Then let’s keep brushing!”
“Okay!”
The walls on the north side of rural houses didn’t have proper windows, only a small, flat window at a very high position to let in light and air.
Sunlight shone in, and because it was north-facing, it wasn’t enough to form a shape, instead creating a halo of diffused light around the window.
The air on the kang had a hazy feeling.
The mother and child, one with a long roller, one with a short brush, neither making a sound, followed a pattern that made people feel very comfortable after watching for a long time, little by little covering the dilapidated walls with fresh, white paint.
When the two of them finished their parts, they swapped positions.
Xiangxiang filled in the lower parts on Qiao Wei’s side with white. Qiao Wei started brushing the higher parts on Xiangxiang’s side.
…
Yan Lei was very expectant today; he really wanted to know how Qiao Wei’s wall brushing was going.
After everyone got off the truck at the intersection, Regimental Commander Zhao said a word to Regimental Commander Ma, then turned his head and shouted: “Yan…”
Yan Lei was already gone.
Regimental Commander Zhao: “…”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with him lately, running home in a rush every day.” He muttered.
Regimental Commander Ma said, “It’s quite strange. He seems to have a lot of energy lately, did you notice?”
“Did he get a shot of chicken blood or something?”
“Doesn’t look like it, he’s still so young, I didn’t even get one.”
People who get a shot of chicken blood would be glowing and hyperactive. Indeed, Yan Lei just looked energetic, which didn’t quite fit the state of having had a shot of chicken blood.
Regimental Commander Zhao and Regimental Commander Ma chatted as they walked.
“…There are several red marks on his neck, don’t know what’s up with that.”
“I asked him, he said he pinched himself.”
“…Pinched what? Hands so itchy! Doesn’t it hurt?”
“I’ll try… Ouch, this hurts quite a bit. Look, did it turn red?”
“…Where? Not even a bit.”
Although the old comrades had children one after another, their marital life was very simple and plain. Some things they had never experienced in their lives.
How would they understand what those red marks on the neck of a certain young Regimental Commander, exposed when his collar was unbuttoned, were all about!
