Chapter 47: Little Bastard
"Hahaha, brother, you’re finally here! I’ve been bored to death these past few days! Come on, get inside!"
Little Shanghai rolled over, about to curse someone out, when he suddenly saw it was Zhao Wendong. He was instantly overjoyed, scrambling up and grabbing him to pull him inside.
"Don’t pull! This is my older brother, Zhao Wenjun. We also have a sleigh full of things and the horse. Oh, and I brought your sleigh back too!"
"Hey, Big Brother! Come on, come on, let’s all get inside. It’s cold out here, we can talk inside!"
Little Shanghai greeted Zhao Wenjun, then started pulling them inside again.
"We can’t. My brother has to watch the horse-drawn sleigh and the goods."
"Worried they’ll get stolen? It’s fine, just pull it all into our maintenance workshop. There’s plenty of space inside!"
"Huh? Can the horse go inside?"
"If I say it can, it can. That dog Fatty Li can come inside, so why can’t a horse!"
Without another word, Little Shanghai pulled Zhao Wenjun and the horse-drawn sleigh inside, parking the sleigh in the maintenance workshop. It was called a workshop, but really, it was just a slightly more spacious room with a higher ceiling.
"Wendong, look at the stuff you wanted. I got it all ready for you yesterday!"
Walking to an oil drum in the corner, Little Shanghai patted it, seeking praise.
Zhao Wendong was ecstatic. He rushed over to inspect it. Zhao Wenwu also followed to see what was going on. Even Zhao Wenjun couldn’t resist. He tied the horse to a walk-behind tractor that was under repair and came over to look at the drum of diesel.
Opening the lid of the oil drum, they could see it was filled to the brim, the oil nearly touching the top. The pungent smell was noticeable from far away. Zhao Wenjun took a deep whiff. It was a bit intoxicating. He couldn’t help but exclaim.
"My god, that’s so much diesel! How long will this last?"
Little Shanghai tilted his head, thought for a moment, then said slowly.
"Not that long. I heard from Wendong that you’re using it for a boat engine. There’s about two hundred liters in here. A small boat isn’t that fast, so this will probably only get you about four hundred kilometers."
Zhao Wendong shook his head.
"No, we have to leave twenty or thirty liters for the village as a boat fee. So we’ll only be able to go a little over three hundred kilometers."
Hearing this, Little Shanghai looked at Zhao Wendong with some concern.
"Wendong, that means your operational radius is only within 100 kilometers. Otherwise, you might not be able to make it back. Can you really get a good haul if you don’t go out to the far seas?"
"Heheh, just trust me. I can’t speak for other things, but when it comes to the mountains and the sea, if I, Zhao Wendong, claim to be second, who in the entire Qianjin Commune would dare claim first? Didn’t you see all this stuff? We got it all by trading what we hunted in the mountains these past few days. Come on, we’re eating here for lunch today. You don’t have to provide a thing this time. It’s all on us. You just wait and eat!"
"Haha, alright then, Wendong! In that case, I won’t stand on ceremony with you!"
Behind his worn-out lenses, Little Shanghai’s eyes crinkled into slits as he smiled. He wasn’t happy because he was getting a free, delicious meal, but simply because Zhao Wendong was here. Sometimes, he felt like the whole world was black and white, but Zhao Wendong, whom he had only recently met, could bring a splash of color to it, just like the family members from his memories.
’Let’s see, what should we eat today!’
It was almost noon. Murmuring to himself, Zhao Wendong started to rummage through the haul on his sleigh.
The staple would definitely be rice. He took out the bag of aged rice, measured out six cups, thought for a moment, then added two more before lighting the fire to cook.
As for the dishes, the four of them unanimously decided on pickled cabbage stew.
"Hmm, we have meat, potatoes, pickled cabbage... what are we missing?"
Zhao Wenwu immediately raised his hand. "Noodles! We’re missing glass noodles!"
"I’ll go buy some."
Little Shanghai stood up to put on his coat, but Zhao Wendong stopped him.
"I already said, your only job today is to eat. I’ll provide everything. You can be in charge next time, alright? Don’t make me lose face, ha!"
"Fine, fine, fine. Here, these are my leftover non-staple food coupons. I have no use for them anyway. You take them to buy the noodles. I won’t chip in for the cash; I’ll just wait for the free meal."
Zhao Wendong took the coupons for two jin of non-staple goods from Little Shanghai. Since he didn’t have any coupons himself, he didn’t stand on ceremony. It wasn’t even certain he could trade them for glass noodles now; potatoes were so precious that he feared no one would be willing to make them into noodles anymore.
"Oh, right, I have a childhood friend who works at the supply and marketing cooperative. How about I call him over to join us?"
Little Shanghai nodded without hesitation. "Your brother is my brother, isn’t he? Why act like such a stranger? Call him over! The more the merrier."
Zhao Wendong smiled. He had the others get to work—washing vegetables or peeling them—while he himself tucked the food coupons into his pocket, left the agricultural technology station, and headed straight for the supply and marketing cooperative.
Just as he stepped out of the station’s gate, he saw a figure standing by the roadside, wrapped in a tattered cotton-padded jacket and wearing a dog-fur hat. He recognized the person—a punk from one of the villages under the Commune, nicknamed Little Bastard.
Back in the day, Zhao Wendong used to loaf around all day, so he was quite familiar with the Commune’s punks. But after so many years, he couldn’t remember many of them clearly. He remembered Little Bastard not because they were close, but because his father was one of the Japanese. It wasn’t even known which one. His mother had been forced to be a comfort woman and gave birth to him, so his biological father was impossible to find.
After the Japanese were driven out by the Maozi, no one looked after the mother and son. Facing constant gossip and pointing fingers every day, his mother eventually couldn’t go on living. She hanged herself, leaving the young Little Bastard to depend on his maternal grandfather. That was also how he got his nickname.
This kid was a ruthless one. Because of his background, no one wanted to hang out with him. So while other punks moved in packs, he was always a lone shadow. In fights, he’d often take on a whole group by himself and never back down. He was also known to fight to kill, so no one dared to mess with him lightly. Later, in ’83, he was executed by firing squad.
Noticing Little Bastard’s gaze fixed on him, Zhao Wendong gave him a polite nod. When the other person looked away, he didn’t pay it any more mind and strode toward the supply and marketing cooperative.
Little Bastard watched Zhao Wendong’s departing figure, then glanced at the room inside the agricultural technology station, tightly pressing his lips, which were purple from the cold.
Zhao Wendong lifted the door curtain and entered the supply and marketing cooperative again. With one glance, he saw his good buddy Liangzi sleeping on the counter. He made a "shh" gesture to the saleswoman by the door and tiptoed over to Liangzi’s side.
"Zhang Liang, your dad’s here!"
Startled awake, Liangzi shot up. Before he could even see who it was, he replied instinctively.
"Dad, what are you doing he—... Fuck, Dongzi!"
Liangzi finally saw that it was Zhao Wendong and realized he’d been tricked.
"Hahaha!"
The saleswomen nearby all burst out laughing.
"Dad’s here to see you! Hahaha! Ow, ow, take it easy!"
Zhao Wendong had barely let out two laughs before Liangzi lunged at him. He could only beg for mercy. After the two of them horsed around for a bit, Zhao Wendong finally spoke.
"Liangzi, come on. I want to introduce you to a friend. We’re having lunch together."
"Where are we eating? Why not just come to my place? Last time you were here, my parents complained that I didn’t bring you home for a meal!"
"We have a place for today. I’ll visit Uncle and Auntie at your house next time."
"Alright, it’s a deal then. Wait for me, I’ll go tell my supervisor."
After Zhang Liang turned and went into the back room, Zhao Wendong took out his food coupons and walked smilingly over to the older saleswoman by the door.
"Sister, I’d like to buy two jin of glass noodles!"
"What ’sister’? I’m only a year younger than Liangzi’s mom."
"Oh my god, really? Then how do you look so young? I don’t believe it, you must be pulling my leg!"
The woman’s wrinkled face immediately bloomed into a wide smile, and her attitude toward Zhao Wendong became much warmer.
"Hah, say what you will. You want glass noodles, right? The leadership already said not to sell any food to people who come asking recently, just to say we’re out of stock. But since you’re Liangzi’s friend, I’ll go get two jin for you."
After saying that, she checked the food coupons in her hand, nodded, and said, "And give me ninety cents."
Zhao Wendong found ninety cents and handed it to her. She put the money in a drawer and turned to get the glass noodles. The other salesclerks saw this and weren’t surprised, each minding their own business.
As the saying goes: if you live by a mountain, you live off the mountain; if you live by the water, you live off the water. And if you catch a toad, you squeeze it till it pees. It doesn’t matter the industry or region; it’s the same all over the country.
Thinking about the three years of lockdown in his later life, when even at eighty years old he was told there weren’t enough slots, only to be picked up by a special car to get vaccinated three times... a sudden thought struck Zhao Wendong.
’Holy shit, I wasn’t reborn because of *that*, was I? In that case, didn’t I spend over two years cursing out good people for nothing?’