Chapter 41: Mother Sheng’s Internal Monologue
Could it really be a job at the commune’s supply and marketing cooperative? Mother Sheng pondered. If her own daughter were ever that short-sighted when picking a husband, she would probably die of pure rage.
Mother Sheng managed to pick up a few stray pieces of greens from the platter. The moment a dish was set down on the table, the villagers descended upon it like a swarm of locusts. She had barely fished out two vegetable leaves before she looked up to find the entire container completely stripped. The basin that had held the cabbage stew with minced meat was now wiped so clean it practically shone brighter than a mirror.
Great-Uncle Sheng kept pressing Father Sheng to drink, seeing him as the most successful and promising child the extended family had ever produced. Father Sheng couldn’t easily refuse such aggressive hospitality, so he reluctantly downed two small cups. He firmly blocked any further pours, politely explaining that he still had to pedal a bicycle all the way back to the city with his wife on the rack.
“Bring out the bride!” the matchmaker suddenly bellowed.
The groom emerged from the house, carrying Sheng Xiuying in his arms. He had been riding high on the excitement of the wedding, but Sheng Xiuying was so heavy that his knees buckled, his legs turning to jelly under the weight. He frantically shuffled out the door to set her down as quickly as possible. With her feet hitting the dirt yard, Sheng Xiuying’s departure from the Sheng clan officially began.
An old proverb dictated that a married daughter was like water splashed on the ground, never to be retrieved. Next, her modest dowry was carried out into the courtyard. Two brand-new sweatshirts, two pairs of plain cloth shoes, and a single new pillowcase constituted the entirety of the bridal send-off Great-Uncle Sheng’s family had prepared.
While it was publicly labeled as a gift from the entire household, everyone knew Sheng Xiuying’s mother had painstakingly scraped it together herself. Given her limited means, this meager offering was the absolute best she could do for her daughter.
Sheng Xiuying’s heart plummeted into her stomach the moment she saw the pile. Where was her fifty yuan? Had her grandmother seriously refused to let her take a single copper coin?
The clothes were made of the cheapest available cotton blend, and the cloth shoes had been hand-sewn by her mother, who had stayed up late working by a dim lamp. The pillowcase was a private gift from her older brother.
The moment the old matriarch, Great-Aunt Sheng, spotted the new pillowcase, her face darkened with immediate disapproval. What a waste! She fumed internally, wondering how the second son’s branch dared to give such a premium piece of bedding to this worthless girl. This little brat had already cost the family fifty yuan of the betrothal money through her scandalous rumors, yet she still had the nerve to cart away such a fine luxury item.
The bedding had been purchased with her precious grandson’s future wedding fund. But since the entire village was currently standing around watching the procession, the old woman forced herself to hold her tongue. She resolved to wait a few days before finding a quiet way to demand it back from the girl’s parents. She had a thousand different methods to keep that family under her thumb. Did Sheng Xiuying honestly believe that marrying a basic commune worker made her an untouchable boss now?
Phooey!
As long as the old matriarch was still drawing breath, no one would dare steal what rightfully belonged to her precious great-grandson.
Because they lacked a proper transport vehicle, Sheng Xiuying was forced to begin the long trek back to the commune on foot alongside her new husband. The walk would take well over an hour over rough terrain. She had desperately wanted to borrow a bicycle, but since Sheng Wanyan hadn’t bothered to show up, she hadn’t possessed the courage to ask Father or Mother Sheng for theirs.
She bitterly shifted the blame onto her cousin. It was all Sheng Wanyan’s fault for being so incredibly stingy; otherwise, she wouldn’t be forced to trudge through the dirt in her bridal finery on her own wedding day. Furthermore, Wanyan hadn’t even sent a wedding gift for such a momentous occasion. She truly was a petty, small-minded girl.
Meanwhile, the object of her bitter thoughts, Sheng Wanyan, was currently finishing her shift at the factory, thoroughly enjoying her peaceful day.
Once off the clock, she pedaled home to start dinner. Drawing from the original owner’s memories, she knew that rural wedding banquets in this era provided next to nothing to eat. Father and Mother Sheng would likely return home with entirely empty stomachs.
Sheng Wanyan pulled out their stash of fine white flour and began kneading dough on the living room table to make fresh noodles. The grandparents had purposely delayed cooking, choosing to wait until the parents returned so they could all eat together. Worried the elderly couple would grow too weak from hunger, Wanyan had coaxed them into eating a few sweet pastries to tie them over.
Grandma Sheng, watching her granddaughter bustle efficiently around the kitchen, stepped in to help prep the bowls. The soup base was simple but comforting: Wanyan seasoned each large ceramic bowl with a pinch of MSG, a splash of soy sauce, and a dash of coarse salt, before blanching a handful of fresh greens and boiling one egg per person.
The moment Father and Mother Sheng walked through the front door, they ravenously sat down to eat. This country trip had been an absolute test of endurance; they hadn’t caught a single glimpse of a full stomach all day. Thank goodness they had treated themselves to a heavy, hearty breakfast at the State-Owned Restaurant before hitting the road. Otherwise, if Father Sheng had been forced to down those cups of strong white liquor on an empty stomach, his ulcer would have flared up violently.
“Mom, you wouldn’t believe it,” Mother Sheng said between mouthfuls of noodles. “That girl Sheng Xiuying actually married into the Huang family over at the commune.”
Grandma Sheng paused, her brow furrowing. “Which Huang family?”
“The branch led by Huang Liansheng.”
Hearing the name, Grandma Sheng shook her head in sheer disbelief. Her sister-in-law back in the village had truly lost her mind. Wasn’t this the equivalent of physically pushing her own granddaughter straight into a raging bonfire?
Huang Liansheng’s household was notoriously wicked. Decades ago, before Grandma Sheng had secured her life in the city, the horrific scandals surrounding that family’s brutal treatment of their daughters-in-law were common knowledge. The poor women in that house were routinely beaten until their bodies were entirely covered in scars. In the entire Hongqi Commune, no other family line possessed such a terrifying reputation for domestic abuse. Marrying into that house was the equivalent of playing Russian roulette with your life.
The old village matriarch had left her entirely speechless. Just to secure a measly fifty-yuan betrothal fee, she had personally escorted her own flesh and blood into a den of monsters. It truly was a terrible sin.
“What an absolute sin,” Grandpa Sheng echoed, letting out a heavy sigh as he stared down at his bowl.
When they were young men, his older brother had been a remarkably honest, decent person who always looked out for his younger sibling. Back then, it was just the two of them, and they had never faced any significant conflicts. But the moment his brother married that woman, his personality underwent a total distortion. He began constantly plotting to claw away Grandpa Sheng’s meager possessions. The more Grandpa Sheng tried to retreat to keep the peace, the more aggressive and demanding his brother’s family became.
The relationship between the two branches had grown increasingly strained over the years. By the time their parents passed away, the brothers had effectively become more estranged than total strangers.
“Everyone carves out their own destiny,” Grandpa Sheng noted quietly, breaking the heavy silence. “We just need to ensure our own children are taken care of.”
Father and Mother Sheng nodded in solemn agreement. They had no desire to meddle in the affairs of a distant branch. Sheng Xiuying wasn’t their child, after all. But one thing was certain: they would never allow their own daughter to suffer such a miserable fate.
Mother Sheng shifted her gaze, landing a severe, meaningful look squarely on Sheng Wanyan. She resolved that if her daughter ever proved to be so blind as to choose a terrible man, she would rather disown her entirely.
Sheng Wanyan received the sudden, icy glare from her mother for absolutely no apparent reason. She blinked in utter confusion, her chopsticks freezing mid-air. Why on earth is she glaring at me now? She hadn’t done a single thing to provoke her mother recently. Could Mother Sheng be hitting early menopause?
Terrified of becoming a lightning rod for her mother’s inexplicable bad mood, Sheng Wanyan quickly finished her noodles, excused herself, and scurried back to the safety of her bedroom.
Observing her daughter’s hasty retreat, Mother Sheng let out a soft huff. She knew her daughter’s character inside and out. Did the girl honestly believe that hiding out in her room would do her any good if a real problem arose?
“Wife, leave the dishes to me. I’ll wash them,” Father Sheng offered tactfully. He had picked up on his wife’s radiating irritation immediately and wanted to smooth things over. He knew their Yan’er was far too intelligent to ever make such a foolish mistake with a man.
Mother Sheng let out a quiet sneer. This father-and-daughter duo was entirely too coordinated—one constantly running to hide while the other stepped up to cajole and distract her. It left her feeling completely suffocated and amused all at once.
“Fine. If you love washing them so much, go ahead,” she murmured, tossing the damp dishrag onto the counter. “Just make sure you wipe down the table properly.” With that, she turned on her heel and retreated to her bedroom.
Watching the door click shut, Father Sheng let out a massive sigh of relief. If his wife remained unhappy, he would ultimately be the one bearing the brunt of the storm. To keep your wife smiling and ensure your own daily life remained comfortable, a man had to know exactly when to be sensible and compliant.
Sheng Wanyan settled into her comfortable routine, and another full month quickly rolled by. She had mailed her completed manuscript pages back to the capital two weeks prior, including a formal note requesting that the editorial office ship a larger volume of source texts in their next delivery.
Her plan was to translate the bulk material at her own pace inside her dimension, allowing her to mail a massive, completed batch exactly once a month. This strategy would eliminate her reliance on the painfully slow postal system just to confirm her next assignment. The mail in this era was frustratingly sluggish; a single round-trip correspondence took an entire month, which was an absolute waste of valuable time.
Calculating the dates in her head, she estimated that the capital’s newspaper office should have processed her manuscript by now. Her next payment voucher would likely arrive in about two weeks.
It was now the end of June. Sheng Wanyan realized she had been living in this rigid era for nearly three months, and she was gradually beginning to fully adapt to the lifestyle.
Aside from her scheduled private exchanges with Wu Jiaxiu at the secluded intersection, she had completely stopped visiting the city’s black markets. She had noticed that the local political climate was growing noticeably tighter and more aggressive by the day. Just the previous week, while cycling home from her shift, she had witnessed a middle-aged intellectual being forced to kneel on a public stage, forced to endure a screaming crowd hurling garbage and insults at his head. The grim reality was a sharp reminder to keep her head down.
