When Sizhe came home from school looking upset, Nan Sheng couldn’t help but laugh. "Did you really get punished by standing all day? Let me make you something good to make up for it!"
He mumbled a reluctant "No," too embarrassed to admit he’d lied.
After washing his face, Sizhe walked into the room and was stunned by the feast before him.
Noodles made from a mix of wheat and corn flour, chilled in cold water and topped with a rich meat and egg sauce.
A plate of shredded cucumber was set aside to mix in, cutting through the richness.
All his petty worries forgotten, he eagerly mixed the noodles and devoured them. Nan Sheng ate a small plate, Siqi managed a small bowl, while Sizhe polished off two full plates and still wanted more.
As Nan Sheng was washing the dishes, her son walked into the kitchen.
"Mom, everyone says it’s going to rain."
"Do you think it will?"
Sizhe shook his head honestly. "I can’t tell. The sky’s just really dark, like it always is before it rains."
Nan Sheng was glad her son was opening up to her. "Rain comes from the clouds in the sky. Think about it—whenever it rained before, wasn’t the sky dark with clouds? And when the clouds drifted away or thinned out, didn’t the rain stop?"
Sizhe thought carefully and realized she was right. He ran outside to check, but despite the oppressive heat and gloom, there wasn’t a single cloud in sight.
How strange.
"Mom, the weather’s so weird! There are no clouds, no rain, and it’s so stuffy!"
"Did you forget what the experts said? We’re heading into a drought. It’ll only get hotter from here, and your school might even close."
Keeping kids cooped up in sweltering classrooms would only make them sick.
"Mom, will that man come back?"
Sizhe was talking about Yu Sheng. Yesterday had been a scare—first fearing Yu Sheng might be badly hurt, then worrying he’d return.
"Even if he does, we have nothing to fear. To be honest, he liked one of the educated youth in the village and lied to me about marrying me. Back then, I was naive and believed him. Taking some money from him wasn’t unfair—he ate plenty of my food too."
Romance was beyond Sizhe’s understanding, but he remembered how his mother had often skipped meals—probably to save money for him.
What a terrible man!
"Mom, when Dad comes back, I won’t tell him!"
Nan Sheng laughed again. "It’s fine. Even if you don’t, I will. Your dad was married once before—he can’t judge me for having a past."
Sizhe thought about it and realized she had a point. He’d been overcomplicating things.
"But is it safe to do business with the black market?"
That so-called Brother Yi didn’t seem like a good person—quick to hit people, quick to drag them away.
"Once the drought passes, ice won’t be as valuable. I’ll stop partnering with him and just sell him the recipe. He’s a hustler, making money under the table. Once I start working at the town government, no one will dare bully our family."
Nan Sheng answered all of Sizhe’s questions patiently, easing his worries until he could finally sleep soundly.
But by the next day, the sky was even darker and muggier, yet not a single drop of rain fell. Some villagers whispered it was divine punishment, a sign of impending disaster.
When they went to the village chief, he dismissed them, telling everyone to go about their work as usual.
The day before, Nan Sheng’s family had gone to the Lin household to apologize. Old Lin accepted their gifts, knowing they were trying to spare him embarrassment.
But the guilt still gnawed at him—he felt he’d failed his sworn brother.
Before noon, good news arrived from town: the government and the black market had mastered ice production. Little Qi rode over on his bicycle, carrying a thickly insulated box filled with ice, wrapped in a quilt for extra protection.
"Nan Sheng, Brother Shitou and the others said it’s too hot, so from now on, I’ll bring ice whenever I deliver messages."
Little Qi placed the box inside before they stepped out to talk. "You deliver messages all day and work at night—can you handle it?"
Nan Sheng was surprised to learn Little Qi was also working for the black market.
"My family’s poor, and my mother’s sick. One job’s not enough to survive. Luckily, Brother Yi doesn’t mind me tagging along to earn extra."
Nan Sheng didn’t pry further. "Is this box hard to make? If it’s easy, bring two more next time. I’d like to send some to my parents and in-laws."
"Easy! Brother Yi had a bunch made just for storing ice—they sell them together. I’ll bring extras next time."
Nan Sheng couldn’t help but admire Xiao Yi’s business sense. No wonder he was so successful.
As for the government job, Nan Sheng wasn’t in a hurry—and neither was the mayor. With the rain still holding off, he was waiting for the right moment.
Another night passed, the heat growing even more suffocating. Little Qi arrived not just with fresh ice but two more insulated boxes, both packed full.
"Nan Sheng, I’m around often—just let me know if you need anything."
Nan Sheng poured him a bowl of mung bean soup and dropped in a piece of ice. "No need for formalities. I should be thanking you for going out of your way to deliver this. Every two days is enough—we don’t need so much at once."
The small, square box held about two bowls of ice. Nan Sheng didn’t plan to overuse it—just enough to keep the family from heatstroke.
"Alright, I’ll let Brother Shitou know."
After Little Qi left, Siqi stared longingly at the ice. "Can I have a piece?"
Nan Sheng patted her head and fixed her a bowl of mung bean soup with a small ice cube. "Just a little. Too much cold isn’t good for girls—you’ll regret it when you’re older."
When she took her daughter to deliver ice to Lin Guozheng, the old man was visibly surprised. He popped a piece into his mouth immediately. "Where’d you get ice?"
"Bought it from the black market. From now on, have Sicheng come by every two days with the box to pick some up. Don’t risk heatstroke—this weather’s deadly!"
The news about the town government’s ice production had come from Little Qi. The mayor was keeping it quiet for now, but even once it spread, no village would be able to use ice as freely as their family.
At best, each village might get one box kept at the community center, with the elderly and children getting priority.
Lin Guozheng was touched. "You’ve really thought of everything."
Who would’ve guessed? Of all his daughters-in-law, the one who’d caused the most trouble was also the most filial. He couldn’t ask for more.
"If the ice is too expensive, don’t worry about us old folks. We’ve lived through worse—we’ll manage."
Nan Sheng didn’t dwell on it. The ice was free for her, after all.
"Grandpa, could you watch the house for me? I’ve got another box to take to my parents."
"Of course. Take your time—stay the night if you need to."
"I couldn’t! I’d worry leaving Sizhe alone."
With her daughter riding along, Nan Sheng set off for Wangshan Village. The little girl clung to her waist, the icebox wrapped in a padded jacket resting on her lap.
"Mom, why isn’t the wooden box cold if there’s ice inside?"
"Because you can’t touch the ice directly, so you don’t feel it!"
Chatting back and forth, mother and daughter soon reached Wangshan Village.
