Chapter 64: Daybreak
In an era when everyone sang revolutionary anthems, a song with pop elements suddenly appeared. Who could possibly resist that?
The more the five brothers listened, the more they liked the song. They had Zhao Wendong sing it over and over, and soon they were humming along. Before long, the simple lyrics and catchy melody had turned Zhao Wendong’s solo into a full-blown chorus.
They sang late into the night, and everyone started to get sleepy. This was especially true for Zhao Wendong and the other three; after a full day of hard work at sea, their bodies were really struggling to keep up.
"Dongzi, don’t fall asleep! Tell me and Little Shanghai how you guys managed to catch so many fish."
Liangzi’s question made Zhao Wendong and his brothers recall their experience at sea, and they all perked up at once. Before Zhao Wendong could even open his mouth, the other three began to excitedly vie with one another to vividly describe their voyage.
When they heard about the swarms of seabirds that blotted out the sky and the immense, seemingly endless school of fish, Zhang Liang and Little Shanghai were so filled with regret they could have slapped themselves. Why hadn’t they gone to sea with Zhao Wendong? A sight like that was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!
And when they heard how Zhao Wendong had helped a Tiger Whale get untangled from a broken fishing net, about all the intelligent things the whale did, and how it even brought them a seal as a thank-you gift, Liangzi stomped the ground, absolutely sick with regret.
Little Shanghai pushed up his glasses and shot Zhao Wendong a reproachful look.
"Wendong, you have to take me with you next time you go to sea!"
"Me too!"
Liangzi raised his hand as well.
"Haha, alright, alright, I’ll take you!"
Zhao Wendong said with a cheerful laugh, but he knew in his heart that there probably wouldn’t be another chance to go out to sea before spring.
Once they calmed down, Little Shanghai and Liangzi must have realized this as well. They shared a melancholy sip of liquor before placing their bowls back by the fire to stay warm.
"Sigh, it’s unlikely we’ll ever see something this good again. But that reminds me, Wendong, what’s gotten into you lately? Did you make a pact with Lady Luck or something? First fighting off wolves and wild boars, and now you run into a massive school of Hai Pangtou."
"Because he can talk to them!"
Zhao Wenwu suddenly shouted from the side.
Everyone froze for a second before bursting into laughter. Zhao Wenwu’s claim was just too absurd; it would have been more believable to say Zhao Wendong could tell fortunes!
"It’s because of the good luck Lin Zhiyin brings me!"
Zhao Wendong muttered to himself. Beside him, Liangzi, who had sharp ears, caught a few words.
"What was that name? Zhiyin? Sounded like you said ’Guanyin,’ the Bodhisattva."
"Sigh, he’s talking about Lin Zhiyin, one of the educated youth in our village. A young lady from a capitalist family."
Zhao Wenjun explained with a helpless expression. His third brother was great in every other respect these days, but this lovesickness of his was incurable. It was like he’d been bewitched, completely fixated on that Lin Zhiyin.
"What? A young lady from a capitalist family?"
Little Shanghai’s interest was suddenly piqued. A capitalist in this era was a real capitalist, not the kind from later years who could get in trouble just for selling sunflower seeds. These were people with deep roots, from families that had been fabulously wealthy since the Republican era or even earlier.
"Then she must be gorgeous, right? Fair and delicate skin? A woman from that kind of background... her aura and appearance can’t be compared to an ordinary girl’s."
"Forget it. She’s filthy. Filthier than me."
Zhao Wenwu’s words left Liangzi and Little Shanghai stunned. They stared at Zhao Wenwu—face caked with dust, sleeves shiny with grime, a trail of snot running from his nose—and couldn’t fathom any woman being dirtier than him. Just how dirty could she be? ’Does she never wash her face or hair? Does she roll around in the mud all day?’
Seeing them look to him for confirmation, Zhao Wenjun heaved another long sigh and then nodded. ’A truly ill-fated match!’
"Holy shit, for real? Dongzi, what are you thinking?"
"Seriously, Wendong, what do you see in her? Her bad political background? Or the fact that she apparently never bathes?"
Zhao Wendong just beamed, not the least bit annoyed. ’The more they look down on Lin Zhiyin now, the more flustered they’ll be when she stops her ugly act. I guarantee their jaws will hit the floor then.’
Seeing the dopey grin on Zhao Wendong’s face, Little Shanghai slapped his forehead.
"It’s over. He’s a lost cause. Is that Lin Zhiyin from the Miao Clan? I’ve heard the women from there can cast love spells, the kind that make a man so madly in love he’d die for her."
"Really? That’s interesting. Tell us more."
The group huddled closer, listening as Little Shanghai started spinning his yarn.
They added firewood time and again until the diesel ran out. The more the six of them talked, the more they found to talk about, and the merrier they became. Every now and then, they would break into a chorus of "Home in the Northeast." The air began to smell of morning as the night slowly gave way to the impending sunrise.
The moment Zheng Guangrong climbed out of bed, he woke Big Sister Hua beside him. She gave him a coquettish pat. "Not sleeping? What are you stirring for now? Didn’t you get enough last night? I was honestly afraid you were going to die on top of me."
"Heh heh, that’s just because I was so excited last night!"
"You go back to sleep. I’m too keyed up to sleep. I’m going to go knock on the door of the post office and wait for the county offices to open."
"What time is it even? It’s still ages before they open!"
"It’s fine. I can’t sleep even if I lie down, I’m just tossing and turning. I’m off!"
Zheng Guangrong got dressed, left Big Sister Hua’s house, and headed straight for the post office. BANG! BANG! He knocked on the door. Once inside, he stood guard by the telephone and began to crank the handle repeatedly, but the operator hadn’t started her shift yet. There was no response.
"Director Zheng, what’s got you in such a hurry? Did something happen?"
The old man who looked after the post office gave him a strange look. Zheng Guangrong wasn’t a talkative man; he just shook his head without a word, pulling out the pack of Grape brand cigarettes he usually kept for show and lighting one up.
"Director Zheng, if you’re cold, you can light the stove yourself!"
After saying his piece, the old man lay back down to sleep, leaving Zheng Guangrong to wait by himself. If this had been decades later, a simple gatekeeper like him would have had to scurry to wait on any leader or director who arrived. But back then, the principle of "everyone is equal" had true substance. During the famine years, the old leaders had gone without meat, enduring the hardships right alongside the common people.
"Alright!"
Zheng Guangrong nodded, got up, and started to light the stove. The county offices wouldn’t open for at least another two hours. He was in for a long wait.
The moment the operator started her shift, a call came in. She quickly put on her headset and plugged in the connector.
"This is Qianjin Commune. Connect me to the main procurement station."
Zheng Guangrong’s anxious voice came over the line. The operator was puzzled. ’What could be so urgent at the procurement station?’
"Hold on!"
With that, the operator found a jack of the same color on the switchboard and plugged it into the socket labeled "County Main Procurement Station."
RING RING RING~
The telephone at the County Main Procurement Station rang. A woman who had just walked into the office froze. What was going on? She’d worked here for years, and this was the first time the phone had ever rung so early in the morning.
"Hello, who are you calling for?"
The woman asked as she picked up the phone.
"I’m looking for Station Chief Wang!"
"He’s not in yet!"
She was about to hang up, but the man on the other end grew frantic.
"Don’t hang up! This is Zheng Guangrong. Who is this?"
"Old Zheng? It’s me, Sister Wei. Why are you in such a tearing hurry to find the station chief?"
Zheng Guangrong was gripping the receiver so tightly his knuckles had turned white. He shouted anxiously into the mouthpiece.
"Sister Wei, could you go get the station chief for me? I have something urgent to discuss with him."
"But it’s cold outside."
"Sister Wei, I’ll give you a pound of pork for the New Year."
Sister Wei’s eyes instantly lit up.
"For real? You better keep your word, Old Zheng. If you’re lying, I’ll come to your house and make a scene."
Before Zheng Guangrong could even reply, Sister Wei, terrified he might go back on his word, threw down the receiver and ran toward the station chief’s house.