After work, Nan Sheng went to the black market to check the current grain prices. What used to buy over a thousand pounds of grain for two hundred yuan now only got half that amount.
Xiao Yi was at least fair—other grain sellers charged even higher prices.
"Nan Jie, here to buy grain again?"
Nan Sheng shook her head. "I came to get some meat and check on Mingli. Since he’s not here, I’ll head out."
Shitou quickly stopped her. "Nan Jie, why buy meat elsewhere? Yi-ge brought back plenty this time. If you hadn’t come today, he’d have asked Mingli to deliver it to you."
Xiao Yi was straightforward and had been deliberately trying to build goodwill with Nan Sheng, so sending gifts was common. Nan Sheng was used to it by now.
In a few months, Xiao Yi would realize just how much befriending her would benefit him!
Shitou went inside and brought out the meat—Nan Sheng’s favorite cuts of bone-in meat and pork belly, weighing a hefty ten pounds or so.
Having checked the grain prices, Nan Sheng didn’t linger.
"Shitou, I’ll take my leave then. Thank Yi-ge for me!"
"Sure thing, Nan Jie! Ride safe!"
Nan Sheng pedaled her bicycle furiously, legs nearly flying off the pedals. The heat was unbearable, and dusk was falling—she didn’t dare travel at night.
Her own household had more grain than they could eat. Checking prices was just to gauge how much she could sell to Yan Shaoshu, using Xiao Yi’s rates to pocket a little extra cash.
Back home, it was too late to cook the bone-in meat, so she rendered the fat from the pork belly and made a fragrant dish of braised pork.
Sizhe had already prepared dinner, but no one touched their chopsticks—everyone was gathered in the kitchen, eyes fixed on the sizzling pan.
Nan Sheng couldn’t help but laugh at the kids’ expressions. "Our meals are already so good. How are you two still drooling over meat?"
Siqi, wise beyond her years, retorted, "Mom, I’ve never met anyone who could get tired of eating meat. If you don’t believe me, try cooking it for me every meal!"
Sizhe nearly burst out laughing—his sister was playing mind games with their mother, oblivious to the risk of getting scolded.
Sure enough, Nan Sheng swatted her daughter’s backside, though it was just a playful tap.
"Dreaming of meat every meal? Might as well wish for the moon! Go finish your homework—no more dawdling! Honestly, who do you take after?"
Nan Sheng always kept the kitchen tightly sealed when cooking meat. Since giving her in-laws their monthly allowance, she rarely sent them food.
Times were hard for everyone—it was best to keep a low profile.
After dinner, Nan Sheng scooped nearly thirty pounds of cornmeal into a cloth bag, planning to deliver it to Yan Shaoshu after dark.
When Sizhe asked, she didn’t hide it, though she kept details vague.
"Someone asked me to help out occasionally. Since we have extra grain, we might as well earn a little. Keep an ear out for any news, alright?"
Sizhe nodded eagerly. "Got it, Mom. If I hear anything, I’ll tell you as soon as you’re back from work."
He’d been worried about their surplus grain—now that his mother had found a way to sell it, he wouldn’t let her down.
But he insisted on going with her. "Mom, you can’t risk being seen. No flashlights either. I can carry the grain and keep you company—take me along!"
"I don’t like leaving Qiqi alone," Nan Sheng hesitated.
Sizhe stood firm. "We’ll make it quick!"
His sister slept like a log. Losing her was unlikely—losing the grain, however, was a real concern. He made sure to lock the door behind them.
During harvest season, the village turned in early. By seven or eight, every household was fast asleep behind locked doors.
Nan Sheng and her son set out under cover of darkness. Yan Shaoshu and his wife lived in an abandoned house on the west end of the village—its original owner had passed years ago.
They encountered no one on the way. Nan Sheng and Sizhe slipped into the yard, then tapped lightly on the window beneath the eaves.
"Who’s there?"
A frightened woman’s voice—Yan Shaoshu’s wife. The recent turmoil had left her jumpy.
Yan Shaoshu, roused by his wife’s alarm, limped to the door. The strenuous farm work had taken a toll on him.
Nan Sheng whispered through the window, "I was asked to bring you grain. Tell me what else you need, and I’ll try to get it next time."
Yan Shaoshu opened the door and ushered them inside, though his expression was uneasy. "Who sent you? If you’re caught, you’ll be implicated too."
Back in the capital, Yan Shaoshu had held a high-ranking position. His sudden demotion to the countryside stemmed from political disagreements—no time to prepare, no chance to arrange support.
Unlike other "black elements," he’d been allowed to keep his belongings and home. But unfamiliar with village life, he’d hesitated to seek help.
In the unlit room, faces were mere shadows. With her child waiting at home, Nan Sheng kept it brief.
"I work at the town government and live here. A higher-up arranged this—no names. The villagers won’t harass you outright. Tell me what you lack, and I’ll return tomorrow. After that, I’ll bring supplies every fortnight."
Yan Shaoshu understood she’d be back. Cooperation was his only option.
"Comrade, cornmeal is enough for grain. But we need medicine and brown sugar—nothing else."
Medicine was essential; the sugar would help his wife recover. Both were easy to hide.
Nan Sheng agreed. "I’ll bring them tomorrow."
Yan Shaoshu’s wife emerged from the inner room with ten ten-yuan bills, having overheard everything.
"Comrade, we can’t thank you enough. This is for the medicine and sugar—please take it."
Nan Sheng pocketed the money and left immediately—lingering was too risky.
As they disappeared into the night, hope flickered in the couple’s hearts. Their most pressing crisis—starvation—was solved.
Yan Shaoshu murmured, "Whoever acted so quickly to track us here..."
Assigned to Xiangnan Village with only ten pounds of cornmeal, they’d nearly run out. The village had no surplus to spare them. Nan Sheng’s arrival felt like divine intervention.
He turned to his wife. "With food secured, pretend you’re still weak—take lighter chores. We will return home someday."
If only he knew where their children had been sent—and what hardships they faced...
