Reborn in 1966

Chapter Seventy School

After drinking millet porridge, Grandma took Peiyin's hand and went to her second uncle's room to see her little sister.

A red cloth curtain was drawn in front of the kang (a heated brick bed) in my second uncle's room. My second uncle wasn't in the room, and I didn't know what he was doing outside. However, Tian Lingling's mother was still there. When she saw Grandma leading Pei Yin into the room, she smiled and said to Pei Yin, "Pei Yin, your second aunt has given birth to a little sister for you. Do you like her?"

Pei-Yin said, "I like it. I'll take my sister to the field to pick flowers."

Grandma smiled and said, "You're so young and already know how to care about your appearance. Come and see your little sister."

There's a local custom that it's best not to see babies under a month old, but that doesn't apply to your own children.

A small white cotton blanket wrapped a sleeping baby with her eyes closed. The baby's skin was rosy, and her sparse hair was now clinging to her scalp in strands. Her chubby face had a small nose with nostrils that twitched slightly, and her petal-like mouth pouted. It was the first time Pei-yin had seen such a small child up close, and she was very curious. She reached out and gently poked the baby's cheek with her finger. Grandma quickly grabbed Pei-yin's hand and said, "Oh dear, you can't poke her! The baby is still very tender."

At this moment, the little baby frowned, closed her eyes, and started crying. Pei Yin was startled and said to her grandmother, "Grandma, I didn't touch her hard, I just touched her lightly."

Tian's mother said, "She's probably hungry. Let Lingling suckle and see if it helps her produce milk."

Tian Lingling was still asleep. Her mother nudged her and whispered, "Lingling, get up quickly. The baby is hungry. See if you can nurse."

Tian Lingling opened her eyes, heard the baby crying, turned her head to look, and said, "Mom, why is she crying?"

Tian's mother said, "You're probably hungry. Sit up and I'll help you feed the baby."

Grandma rolled up a quilt and placed it behind Tian Lingling. Tian's mother picked up the baby and put him in Tian Lingling's arms. The baby probably smelled the familiar scent and snuggled in his mother's arms. With the help of his maternal grandmother, he finally got to nurse.

It went smoothly, and the baby was full in no time and then fell asleep again. The two mothers standing next to her breathed a sigh of relief. The grandmother said, "Lingling is so much easier. She produced milk in no time. Back then, your sister-in-law Peiyin didn't produce milk for several days. Our Peiyin practically grew up drinking milk."

My second aunt rubbed the other side and said, "Mom, I feel really swollen."

Grandma said, "Oh dear, this has startled the milk. We have to get it out, otherwise the milk will dry up."

Grandma was a little anxious. Seeing Peiyin sitting on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), she suggested to Peiyin, "Peiyin, why don't you drink your second aunt's milk?"

Pei Yin looked at it, then covered her mouth with her little hand and said, "No, I'm not a little baby anymore, I won't eat it."

Back then, my mother didn't have enough milk, which was also related to my not suckling hard enough. I was a young woman in my twenties with the mentality of a real baby, so I really couldn't do such a thing.

Tian's mother and grandmother both laughed. Tian Lingling was also embarrassed. Her grandmother said, "Alright then, let's express the milk and leave it. Now that we have milk, we can't hold it in."

Pei Yin knew that one of her classmates from her undergraduate days got married early, had a child right after graduation, and had to force herself to stop breastfeeding. Normally, she could just drink some malt water to stop breastfeeding, but because she was thinking of having another child, she knew that drinking malt water would make it harder to produce milk, so she had to force herself to stop. Pei Yin heard that her classmate was in so much pain from engorgement that she couldn't bear to touch it.

Grandma found a cup and, together with Tian's mother, helped express Tian Lingling's milk. Pei Yin heard Tian Lingling cry out in pain several times.

Tian's mother had been staying at the Shen family's house for a long time. She hadn't had a proper rest since arriving in the middle of the night. Grandma said, "My dear in-law, the little girl has eaten her fill and is asleep now. You should lie down and get some sleep too. You haven't slept all night."

Mother Tian said, "Then I'll rest on the kang with these two for a while. You should go back and rest too. I'll call you if I need anything."

Grandma was getting on in years, and she hadn't slept since midnight. She was exhausted, but she didn't refuse and took Peiyin back into the house.

Grandma said, "Peiyin, Grandma wants to take a nap. You stay here by yourself and don't run around, okay?"

Pei-Yin said, "Okay, Grandma, you can go to sleep. I'll watch the door for you here."

Grandma chuckled and patted her granddaughter's head. She lay down on the kang (a heated brick bed) fully clothed, and soon a soft snore could be heard.

Peiyin walked into the yard, moved a small stool and sat under the sycamore tree. She rested her chin on her hands and looked at the few loofah plants that her grandfather had planted under the courtyard wall. It was already autumn, and the loofahs had all been harvested. Only a few were left hanging on the trellis, which her grandmother would keep for seeds when she got old. She would then dry the loofah pulp to use for washing dishes and pots. Peiyin remembered that when her grandfather planted the loofahs in the spring, she had curiously followed him and even helped him water them with a small water ladle.

Later, the loofah sprouted, grew vines, blossomed, and bore fruit. Peiyin followed her older siblings to water the loofah. Her two older brothers helped their grandfather build a trellis for the loofah. As a result, a green trellis appeared in the yard, filled with many tender yellow flowers.

Later, the flowers fell, and long, slender loofahs hung on the trellis. Grandma picked the tender loofahs and stir-fried or made soup with them, adding a unique flavor to the bland meal.

Pei Yin stared at the loofah trellis, her mind wandering to all sorts of random thoughts. She didn't know how long she had been working on it until a commotion at the courtyard gate snapped her out of her reverie.

Uncle pushed his bicycle into the yard, and Peiyin rushed forward to help. Uncle laughed and said, "You little rascal, this is not something you can help with. Stay away so you don't get bumped."

Pei Yin whispered, "Grandma is asleep, Second Uncle, please keep your voice down."

Uncle said softly, "I understand." He gently propped up the bicycle, on which was half a bag of flour. Pei Yin remembered the local custom that when a child was born, the family had to send noodles to relatives and friends. At that time, the noodles were all handmade, which were both chewy and delicious.

My second uncle took his grain ration book to collect his own rations, and exchanged some of his rations for white flour. When the baby was a month old, he made noodles and sent them to relatives and friends.

My second uncle parked his bicycle, took the flour sack to the kitchen, took out two pieces of fruit candy from his pocket, and said, "Peiyin, here's some candy for you."

Pei Yin took the fruit candy and said, "Thank you, Second Uncle."

Uncle said, "Peiyin, your aunt gave birth to a little sister for you. You'll have to take her with you to play from now on, okay?"

Pei-Yin said, "Okay."

Uncle Shen nodded. His eldest brother's children were all good, and his own children would not suffer any losses, whether in the village or at home.

Thinking of his daughter, Uncle Shen felt a surge of excitement and emotion. The little girl, his blood-related daughter, made him feel that his life was complete. It was as if the suffering he had endured was insignificant. He truly felt content with his daughter.

Pei Yin held two pieces of fruit candy, reluctant to eat them, so she put them in her pocket, thinking that when her older brother and sister came back later, they could eat them together. If each person ate half a piece, there would still be half left.

Seeing her second uncle at home, Pei Yin slowly walked out of the yard. The people here are so honest and simple nowadays. There aren't many petty thieves or child snatchers. She wasn't afraid of being kidnapped, even though she was just a little kid. Looking at the sun, she figured her mother, third brother, and older sister should be getting out of school soon, so she decided to wait for them at the school gate.

After leaving the courtyard, I walked to the main north-south road in the village. The school and the brigade headquarters were at the north end of this road, while my home was on the west side of the village, slightly to the south.

The village was quiet. Except for those going to school, everyone was working in the fields. It was unlike the rural areas a decade or so later, where the household responsibility system was implemented. Everyone had the freedom to decide when to weed, sow, and harvest their own land. Even during the busy farming season, there were people on the village streets. Some of the more resourceful ones would set up stalls on the street, selling food or butchering pigs and selling meat. Children from families with these kinds of businesses were often envied because such families usually didn't cultivate much land themselves. They would usually lease it out to others, so they wouldn't have to work in the fields during the summer and autumn harvests. You see, in rural areas, children had to work in the fields with their parents from a very young age.

When she arrived at the school gate, it was still before school let out. Pei-Yin stood at the school gate waiting for her family to come over after class.

As a teacher at the school, Shen's mother would not bring Pei Yin, who was not in the preschool class, to school. Given her position, it would be bad if she did something out of line and caused trouble. Therefore, Pei Yin had never come to school with her mother.

During class time, the campus was deserted. The courtyard was surrounded by poplar trees, their leaves rustling in the wind. In one corner of the courtyard were two cement ping-pong tables, and not far from the ping-pong tables stood two basketball hoops. To Pei Yin's untrained eye, the hoops were placed rather haphazardly.

The entire campus was just a flat dirt ground covered with a layer of river sand. Even the ping-pong tables and basketball courts were sandy, making it seem rather empty. Occasionally, a few sparrows hopped around in the large courtyard, picking things up. In some classrooms, teachers could be heard lecturing, while others were observing students diligently writing. In still others, the sound of students reading aloud could be heard.

Pei Yin leaned against the school gate, peering curiously inside. In her previous life, she had attended a central primary school in a town, where the facilities were almost as good as those in the county town. This was the first time she had ever seen a rural school like this.

Although the facilities are rudimentary, they are a beacon of hope. Those who study diligently inside may become leaders in their respective fields and pillars of the nation in a decade or two.