The one in charge of butchering the sheep was still the brigade’s pig slaughterer. Although it was his first time killing a sheep, he didn’t stumble at all. Since sheep had less meat than pigs, naturally each household received a smaller share.
Many people crowded around the mutton, all picking and choosing, but always reaching for the lean cuts.
“Take it home and make a big pot of mutton soup. You can eat it all the way through New Year.”
Of course, no one thought of actually eating the meat directly. The idea was to simmer a big pot of milky-white mutton broth and then eat it with flatbreads or noodles.
So when Wang Ying stepped up and asked for ribs, it struck people as unusual. But unlike before, no one laughed at her anymore. Obviously, with a cook in her household, she wasn’t going to mess it up. As for everyone else, they stuck to their mutton soup.
Wang Ying’s share ended up being a little over a jin of ribs and a small piece of belly meat. That was already the combined allotment for both Old Lady Xu and Wang Ying’s households.
Wang Ying kept eyeing the remaining mutton spine and fore/hind legs, waiting for someone who drew those pieces but didn’t want them so she could trade.
She could offer pork in exchange!
Just then, Tian Dazhu, who had recently become a father, reached the front of the line. Scratching his head with a simple grin but a proud tone, he said,
“I’m making mutton soup. My wife needs to eat well for nursing our son, so just give me whatever piece is best for soup.”
Without another word, the butcher cut him a slab of belly meat.
Tian Dazhu carried it off like a treasured prize.
Wang Ying craned her neck to watch, and finally when someone later received a spine, Xu Shuang immediately stepped forward to ask if they would be willing to exchange mutton for pork.
Most people weren’t, but there were a few who couldn’t stand the strong smell of lamb and agreed.
Xu Shuang successfully traded for over a jin of spine, and another jin of neck meat.
Wang Ying was thrilled.
“Lamb neck! Perfect for hand-pulled lamb!”
She hadn’t thought of it earlier, but the moment she saw it, she realized she had almost forgotten the neck!
Although belly and ribs were the most commonly eaten cuts, and spine was often used for “lamb scorpion” stews, Wang Ying always felt that lamb neck had the very best flavor.
The meat here was tender, evenly laced with collagen, with a bit of sinew, plus the marrow in the center section. Whether braised in red sauce or simmered in clear broth, it was always delicious!
But her favorite of all was hand-pulled lamb made from neck meat. The portion closest to the body had more meat. First you simmer it, then slice it. A bowl of rich mutton soup with fresh, tender hand-pulled lamb, and a serving of rice on the side—Wang Ying had tasted it once in Xinjiang in her past life and never forgotten it.
“If only we had yellow carrots here, and raisins too. Then making a pilaf would be even better.”
When it came to food, Wang Ying was always greedy. If she had one, she wanted two; if she had two, she wanted three. There were so many delicious things in the world—if she couldn’t try them all, she felt unsatisfied.
Xu Shuang said, “Next time let’s ask my brother.”
Xu Ming was in the Northwest, and in his letters he had mentioned that they had yellow sheep meat there, and raisins for sale too. Next year they could ask him to send some raisins.
“Achoo!”
Far away, Xu Ming sneezed twice in a row.
He muttered, “Who’s talking about me behind my back?”
In the Northwest, once winter set in it was all swirling snow. Work sites that were supposed to break ground had all stopped. The educated youths huddled in their dorms, some chatting, others gathered around to play cards.
Hearing Xu Ming’s words, the ones beside him chuckled.
“Who else could it be? Must be our farm’s ‘flower’.”
Xu Ming rubbed his nose. “Not necessarily. Back when I was at Provincial University, I was actually…”
“What were you actually?”
Xu Ming’s eyes widened—slip of the tongue!
At that moment, “the flower” of the farm, Song Ya, walked in, her hair in two braids, with big watery eyes shining under her bangs.
“What actually?” she asked.
Xu Ming: “Actually, I never paid attention to those people at all!”
“We are the brand-new generation of the future! We must dedicate ourselves to the country! Petty romances only hinder progress—boundless love for humanity is the true path!”
Xu Ming’s heart was pounding, yet the slogans pouring out of his mouth grew louder and more forceful with each line.
Song Ya gave a cold laugh.
“Petty romances hinder progress, is that it?”
Xu Ming: …
“So I’m the one getting in the way of your so-called ‘boundless love for humanity,’ am I?”
Xu Ming: “…No!”
With a flick of her twin braids, Song Ya spun around and stormed off.
Xu Ming looked aggrievedly at Old Tang.
“Why is she angry again?”
Old Tang chuckled.
“The girl wants to marry you, and you won’t even take the hint. Of course she’s gonna give you the cold shoulder.”
Xu Ming fell silent. Old Tang patted him on the shoulder.
“Stop thinking Song Ya’s out of your league. You’re not that bad yourself. Sure, she’s the farm director’s daughter, but has Director Song ever made things hard for you? To land such a good father-in-law—that’s great luck, boy. Anybody else would’ve been tripping over themselves to cozy up. And here you are, shrinking back and making the girl lose face.”
Xu Ming gave an awkward laugh and quickly changed the subject.
“My family sent me some dried vegetables. How about we cook up a small pot in the dorm later?”
Old Tang practically heard his own throat gulp with envy.
“You lucky dog! How do you even get such a good life?”
Every so often, Xu Ming’s family sent care packages—food, supplies, all sorts of things. On top of that, he had a pretty girl chasing after him. And that pretty girl even had a good father.
As soon as the others heard there’d be a pot of hot food, everyone gathered around.
Compared to the educated youths sent to other regions, the ones stationed in the Northwest generally had good camaraderie. Aside from Xiao Zhuang—the one who always liked to be jealous—most of them were warmhearted and genuine young people.
But then again, Xiao Zhuang had already been transferred away. They said his family had arranged a job for him in the city, so he’d gone back.
With Xiao Zhuang gone, relations among the educated youths became even more harmonious.
“Heh, I’ve got some dried meat here. Let’s throw in a piece!”
“I even traded with a local for some yellow carrots.”
“No yellow carrots! Xu Ming’s dried vegetables are delicious—let’s put those in!”
“You idiot, we need to save the dried vegetables. Otherwise we’ll be stuck eating nothing but meat broth with naan later.”
…
The fragrant steam of their pot of dried-meat soup even drew in educated youths from the neighboring dorms. Everyone took a ladleful, soaking cold naan in the broth to eat. It wasn’t gourmet, but it made their eyes squint with contentment.
“Phew, that smells so good! Xu Ming, keep your dried vegetables safe, alright? We’ll save them for New Year’s Eve dinner.”
Xu Ming grinned.
“Don’t worry, my family just sent more. This time they sent half a wind-dried chicken and dried beans with mushrooms. For New Year’s, we’ll have chicken stewed with mushrooms, plus clear-broth lamb, and beans stewed with lamb ribs.”
“Nice!”
That year’s New Year’s Eve dinner finally passed without wave after wave of people coming to Wang Ying’s door.
Starting from the afternoon of the 29th, Wang Ying’s mouth hardly got a break.
Frying peanuts, frying fish pieces, frying chicken nuggets, frying sazi (crispy twists)…
Rolling out oil pancakes, wrapping dumplings, grinding soybeans for tofu, peeling off tofu skins…
Steaming mantou, steaming flower rolls, grinding rice flour, drying soybean flour…
The household’s stone mill hardly had a chance to rest, with people constantly dropping by to borrow it. Xu Shuang, too, was busy running back and forth preparing dishes.
At one point, Cheng Yu sneaked over with a big bowl—in it was a roulong (meat roll).
Cheng Yu whispered quietly,
“My teacher made this. She asked me to bring you some.”
Wang Ying slipped her a bowl of fried chicken pieces in return, and fed the meat roll straight to the busy Xu Shuang, two bites at once.
Cheng Shufen was a true-born Beijinger. She might not excel at everything she cooked, but Wang Ying had tasted her zhajiangmian (noodles with soybean paste) before, and it was truly first-rate. This time, her meat roll was also excellent—the fluffy white dough wrapped around a thin layer of minced meat, soft and springy, with layers of rich meaty fragrance.
That whole afternoon, people came and went nonstop. Last year, Wang Ying had just been a new bride, and with the incident in Xu Shuang’s family, things had been less lively. But this year, she finally experienced the real sense of “New Year’s atmosphere.”
One household sent over some homemade pickles, another dropped off some fried snacks, others came to ask Xu Shuang how to cook certain dishes. Over at Old Lady Xu’s place, a group of elderly women gathered with sunflower seeds and peanuts, sitting in a circle listening to the radio.
Unlike Cheng Yu, who slipped by secretly, Qian Juhua was much more open. She came carrying her youngest daughter, with her two older daughters in tow, bringing something for Wang Ying.
“These are sausages I stuffed myself. I think they taste pretty good—try them.”
When pork had been distributed, Qian Juhua had taken some intestines, filled them with minced pork, and hung them under the roof beam to air-dry. Before long they were ready to eat. Just steaming them in a pot made for a delicious dish.
Wang Ying didn’t refuse. Everyone could see the changes in Qian Juhua over the past year—her life was clearly getting better and better.
After two days of lively preparations, New Year’s Eve dinner finally arrived.
There were cumin lamb ribs, clear-broth lamb, sour soup with crispy pork, cabbage stewed with tofu, fried rice with sausage, and in the center, a large bowl of ham and three-delicacy soup.
Compared to last year’s New Year’s dinner, this year’s was obviously far more sumptuous.
The cumin lamb ribs were fragrant and charred, falling right off the bone, crispy outside and tender inside. The sour soup crispy pork was tangy and appetizing, the fried meat coated in a sour and spicy broth—chewy and flavorful. The clear-broth lamb had been simmered until the soup turned milky white, topped with a few goji berries for nourishment and warmth…
But Wang Ying’s favorite was still the ham and three-delicacy soup. The ham, sent by Xu Shuang’s uncle, had been sliced and simmered into broth. Even if nothing else was added, just a little cabbage, it would still be delicious. The ham’s rich, savory flavor was salty and full-bodied.
By the end of dinner, Wang Ying was so stuffed she couldn’t even eat dumplings.
In the end, she only ate two just for tradition’s sake.
Looking at the table piled high with leftovers, Wang Ying couldn’t help but sigh,
“If only every day could be New Year’s.”
The days of feasting on meat and fish were far too intoxicating.
And it wasn’t only Wang Ying who felt that way—the children of the brigade all thought the same. Even though this year’s harvest had fallen a little short, they’d been allotted plenty of pork, even got to eat mutton, and there were vermicelli noodles too. The portions might not seem much, but isn’t that what life is all about?
Here a little, there a little—once saved up, it added up to quite a lot.
So this year’s New Year truly felt rich and fulfilling.
By the time Wang Ying finished eating peanut-stuffed rice dumplings on the fifteenth day of the first lunar month, the brigade was already buzzing with a restless atmosphere.
After the Lantern Festival, the new year officially began. Every household started planning out their year, and the biggest change was that the brigade was going to open a primary school.
Although the tuition was just one yuan per child—not expensive at all—studying still required paper and pens, and even a single pencil cost two fen. Every family was calculating their accounts down to the last detail.
Wang Ying was no exception. She worked out her family’s savings and plans, and thought to herself that once spring came, she needed to put the matter of planting honeysuckle on the agenda. Otherwise, it would be hard for the family to save up any money.
By rights, she and Xu Shuang earned a decent amount each month, so things shouldn’t have been this tight. But Wang Ying knew very well that as much as they earned, they also spent. Last year, they bought big items and repaired the house—money had flowed out like water. This year they wouldn’t need to spend on those things anymore, but she wasn’t willing to cut down their quality of life just for the sake of saving.
If reducing expenses wasn’t an option, then the only way was to increase income.
Last year’s biggest income had been from the wild ginseng. But Wang Ying also understood that kind of luck-based windfall was hard to come by. Not only was wild ginseng incredibly difficult to find, but there were very few people in the city who could casually pull out several hundred yuan to buy medicinal herbs.
