A century of poverty

Chapter 73 Thinking of the Zhang Family

As winter approached, my foot pain worsened, forcing me to stay home and rest. I consulted the village's barefoot doctor, who diagnosed me with migratory rheumatoid arthritis. He said he couldn't be sure about the lump in my leg, and advised me to go to the hospital.

I dropped out of school, and my dad carried me on his back. My mom and I came to the city hospital for treatment and I was hospitalized. After a consultation, the hospital decided to operate to remove the sliding mass in my leg, and to treat the joint pain and inflammation.

There were no beds available in the surgical ward, so they put me in the pediatric ward, but there were no spare beds in the pediatric ward either. Fortunately, a child in the next bed was recovering and about to be discharged. After their evening rounds, the nurses secretly went home to stay, letting their mother sleep in their bed.

Two days later, they were discharged, and a new patient came to bed. My mother returned to my bed, and I tried to move over, but she wouldn't let me, afraid I'd catch a cold against the wall. We lay down, one on top of the other, and my mother kept trying to avoid touching me. In her drowsy state, she tipped off the bed. The mother in the opposite bed was still comforting her child when she saw my mother sliding down. She cried out "Hey! Hey! Hey!" but before she could even finish, my mother was already on the floor.

Mom got up, smiled, and said, "It's nothing, it's nothing. I was just dreaming that I was flying off a cliff and then I fell to the ground."

She was afraid I would be upset, so she comforted me instead. At that moment, I truly couldn't describe how I felt.

A few days later, my father came to visit me. When he sat by my bedside and asked, "Are you feeling better?", I noticed that he had a lot more gray hair. I replied, "Much better."

Father: "Something has come up at home. Your mother has to go back. Have your fourth sister come and keep you company."

I nodded in agreement. After my parents left, my fourth sister told me, "My eldest brother went back to the capital to get engaged. Dad is arranging the dowry. Once it's all settled, they might get married the following year."

"Oh!" I heard my older brother is getting married; it's a joyous occasion. But seeing the white hair on my father's head, my heart aches. At this time, I'm still lying in the hospital, adding to the family's burden. My heart is heavy.

A few days later, Dad came to bring us money for food. I asked him, "Where does the money come from?"

Dad: "Your third sister makes bags and can sell more than two yuan a day, don't worry."

"What about the hospital fees?" I asked.

"We can calculate it all when you're discharged," Dad replied.

"Oh!" I was relieved.

Around 9 PM, my fourth sister was dozing off on the edge of the bed. There was a lot of footsteps going in and out of the hallway. I nudged her, "Go get my sweater that's hanging on the radiator outside and bring it in. Go to bed and get some sleep!"

She opened her eyes and said, "I'm not sleepy, I'll pick them up in a bit." Then she closed her eyes again.

I nudged her again: "Come in and get some sleep."

She opened her eyes again: "It's nothing!"

I couldn't do anything with her, and I couldn't get out of bed myself.

The next morning, she got up and remembered my sweater. She went out to get it, but it was gone. She searched everywhere along the corridor, between the radiator and the wall, and between the radiators and the walls nearby, but it wasn't there. When she returned to the room, she asked the other patients in the ward who were also there, but no one said they had seen it. She panicked. She asked the doctor and nurses on duty, but they all said they didn't know and hadn't seen it.

I searched for over an hour, but there was no sign of it.

I said, "Don't bother looking, it's pointless. So many people were coming and going last night, if it didn't fall on the floor or get stuck in the radiator, it must have been stolen. This is the only decent piece of clothing I own."

Red acrylic fabric, shirt collar, new style. My dad bought it for me during summer vacation after he remembered how hard I worked making straw bags, and he agreed to buy it for me at my request. I haven't worn it more than a few times yet.

She was also dejected, sitting there with her head down, feeling very regretful. What was the use of blaming her anymore?

The other children in the ward came in with flushed faces and crying incessantly, seemingly quite ill. But usually, after about a week, their fever subsided and the inflammation cleared, and they could be discharged home. Those beds came and went in batches; I've accompanied several groups home. But whenever I asked the doctor when I could be discharged, the answer was always the same: wait two days.

More than a month after the inflammation subsided, I was finally able to walk around and go to the water room to fetch a thermos of water.

My father came again and went to the clinic to ask about my condition. The doctor said that I could be discharged and recuperate at home. My father went to the inpatient department to settle the bill, paid more than sixty yuan, and took the reimbursement slip home.

When they got home, Fourth Sister took the receipts and Father's stamp to the brigade for stamping. The accountant stared at Father's stamp for a long time, muttering to himself, "I've never seen a stamp like this in all my years of work." Fourth Sister went home and mimicked the accountant's expression. Father said, "Back then, this stamp was used as the Zhangzhuangtuo stamp, so of course it's different from a regular personal stamp."

The next day, Dad took the receipts to the farm, and the hospital expenses were reimbursed.

Returning home after being discharged from the hospital was initially very difficult to adjust to. The hospital room was warm, and the bed was soft. Back home, the room was cold, the kang (heated brick bed) was hard, and the kang mat was made of woven bamboo strips. Because of my limited mobility, I always felt prickly.

At the end of the year, during the team's annual summary report meeting, the team's accountant, Liu Zhenchang, reported the accounts. "A day's work is calculated at 20 points, including piecework points during the busy season, as well as subsidies and converted work points for male laborers."

Ten cents is calculated to be approximately three cents.

Xiao Guixia 6219 points, Zhang Xialian 6132 points, Liu Shurong 9896 points, Liu Lewen 10179 points. Male laborers: Zhang Chunguo 8762 points, Jiang Feng 8089 points, Jiang Lang 8976 points, Zhang Shuangxing 8234 points, Zhang Shuangfei 7998 points, Liu Shiheng 11827 points, Liu Zhenjin 11234 points, Liu Zhenhui 10784 points, Liu Shifu 11456 points, Zhao Jiuxiang 10798 points.

Liu Zhenchang, foaming at the mouth, quickly and loudly announced the annual work points of each farm worker and the total work value of each household's work points, after deducting the value of rations and goods distributed to the team.

The Liu family, who lived on the land, had a father and daughter named Liu Shiheng working. After deducting the expenses for seven people, they had three or four hundred yuan left in their wages.

The share of Liu Hongpei and his son's family, after deducting expenses, was higher than that of other households.

Liu Zhenhui, Liu Shifu, Zhao Jiuxiang, and others were either warehouse keepers or car owners. Liu Shiheng and Liu Zhenjin were water distributors.

The local households were all provided with 360 days of work per year, with high work points, and they had a surplus at the end of the year. Their carts for distributing straw and rotten rice were large, and their straw and rotten rice stacks were noticeably larger than those of the outsiders. They rarely used firewood and produced more straw bags.

Looking at the migrant workers, the young men and women are the main force of heavy work throughout the year, but their work points are much lower than those of the local men and women.

The farm work relied on them, but their workdays were far fewer than those of the landowners who were physically weaker but had more work points year-round. Although the production labor depended on them, their share of the profits was much lower. Liu Shiheng was over sixty years old, but he had the highest score in the entire team. His second brother was the political team leader, and he could scold whomever he wanted. They lived together in a secluded spot on the edge of the field, far from the village, which made them seem both mysterious and different from others.

They also have ways to manipulate work points. When doing piecework, they set the work points very high, then deduct points under the pretext of others' poor quality, thus suppressing the work points of those they consider to be of lower quality. In this way, they both maintain their high scores and leave others with "no complaints."

For example, rice planting is done by rows, harvesting is done by mu (unit of land area), transportation is done by grid, and threshing is done by bundles of straw. There are ways to spread out work points.

The decision was made by their team committee, and the calculation was done by Liu Zhenchang.

Sitting in the first row, Liu Hongpei praised his son's "sharp tongue and sharp abacus" with a big smile.

Xiao Tingge, Liu Zhenchang's father-in-law, who was born into the group of migrant workers, had the opposite feeling. He cursed inwardly, "You're so shameless! Compared to your sister Lewen, my Guixia earns less than the price of a fat pig in a year."

Secretly, the Liu and Liu families were at odds, neither willing to suffer losses in terms of interests. However, outwardly, they still supported each other and united against outsiders. Liu Zhenchang treated his sister-in-law Guixia and other outsiders the same, but he treated Liu Shiheng's daughter Liu Shurong the same way.

After Liu Zhenchang finished reporting the accounts, Political Captain Liu Shiya spoke, first giving a brief overview of the political situation. Then he shifted the topic to personal life: "I have to say a few words about personal life, young students! Avoid associating with them. Like Guo Linghua, a young woman, she's constantly hooking up with young men. And I won't name names, but don't think that just because you're staying at the Party Secretary's house you're clinging to a powerful figure. Someone already told me, what did you say! In the first two years, I could have labeled you a counter-revolutionary just for that! Keep a close eye on your daughter. She's dating someone, and things fall apart. She's constantly sending letters. We know everything. Be mindful of the impact!"

Look at Mrs. Qu, she makes tofu as a dish, that's what you call knowing how to manage a household! Frugal and thrifty!

That's all for now, meeting adjourned!

Dad didn't go to the meeting that night, my eldest brother wasn't home, but my third sister and second brother were there.

When my third sister got home, she angrily recounted how Liu Shiya had singled out my third cousin for criticism, saying some very harsh things. She also criticized our family without naming names, spouting nonsense; it seems she took Old Qu's slander seriously. She even brought up the matter of my failed relationship with someone from the inner quarter. She claimed it was because those local residents were secretly opening the mail belonging to outsiders, with ulterior motives.

They also talked about the work points situation this year.

We were all very angry and felt deeply aggrieved. What kind of life was this, having to endure this humiliation for no reason? We couldn't help but think of our hometown and the area behind the Great Wall.

"Everything was fine at home, but coming here to do this filthy work, suffering for nothing, and being bullied by others," the third sister said. She added that if she hadn't come here, her engagement wouldn't have fallen through. She was right.

The more things are like this, the more we miss the good old days back home, and even Dad sighs with worry. Coming here, we've all had our own hardships.

No one spoke, each lost in their own sorrow.

I drifted off to sleep, and in a daze, I returned to the pass. I got off the train at Shimen Station and ran towards Zhuangtuo—running and running… My legs were so heavy, and I seemed to see the Lianyu Mountains—and the flowing water of the Donghe River—but no matter how hard I ran, I could never reach them; I could only see them in the distance…

A little while later, I saw my second sister running towards us. It was like a slow-motion scene as we ran together—running… but we didn’t end up embracing each other.

I feel so tired and exhausted!

I've had this dream countless times.