I am not Ximen Qing.

Honestly, even within a family of siblings, there are degrees of closeness. The second sister has always cared for her eldest brother since childhood, and she also cares for her youngest brother, Hongli, because Hongli had suffered a serious illness. He was originally an opera singer with a powerful high-pitched trumpet voice, but frankly, his voice was ruined, he underwent major surgery, and almost lost his life. Her love for her eldest brother is a deep sibling bond, while her love for her youngest brother is an outpouring of maternal instinct; women are all so inclined to care for the vulnerable.

Let alone ordinary families, even Empress Dowager Chongqing in the Qing Palace felt sorry for the dissolute prince, Qianlong's half-brother, whom she had raised since childhood. Emperor Yongzheng didn't have many sons, far fewer than Emperor Kangxi. Chongqing's emotional support wasn't for her biological son, Qianlong, but for Hongzhou, whom she had raised from childhood. Feelings are a delicate thing, both in the Qing Palace and among siblings in ordinary families.

Hongqi was disliked by everyone. His father was particularly worried about him when he was alive. He was intelligent and quick-witted, but his work was always unreliable, somewhat like Honghua. He was academically gifted; if the family hadn't faced any misfortunes, he could have easily gotten into a top university. Hongqi and Honghua were the most famous siblings at school, with exceptionally good grades. They were the kind of students who could finish their homework during breaks, no matter how heavy it was. At home, unlike some students who practically exhausted themselves studying, Hongqi enjoyed making toys, while Honghua loved reading the novels and classics in her older brother's collection. Hongqi and Honghua often argued and bickered with their second sister, as if they were natural enemies; in fact, they preferred their eldest sister. Their youngest sister, Hongmei, remained quietly neutral.

Upon hearing that Honglin wanted to challenge himself by giving up his job at the bureau and instead going to the mountains to earn a high-paying job driving a tractor to haul timber downhill, his second sister thought it was one of the most dangerous jobs in the world. She was glad her younger brother hadn't chosen to be a chainsaw operator or lumberjack; cutting down towering trees in the old forest with a chainsaw in the mountains was one of the most dangerous jobs, arguably the most dangerous and accident-prone in the forestry bureau. Every year, they were a priority for safety precautions because a fatality would affect the bureau. The province had very strict safety requirements, demonstrating their responsibility for the workers' lives. In production, safety is always paramount; people are the foundation. If workers' lives are not guaranteed, then production loses its meaning.

The older sister adored her artistically gifted younger brother, and their bond was deep. So, she earnestly advised him against driving a tractor in the forest farm, arguing that it wasn't necessarily safer than driving a tank. Both siblings had fond memories of the volunteer soldiers who lived in their home when they were young. Life was truly unbearable! Now, her brother actually wanted to give up the comfortable life at his job to work in the harsh conditions of the forest farm. The older sister understood the work there better than her brother; once a worker joined the team, they had to take a shuttle bus to the mountains at four or five in the morning every day. Spring, summer, and autumn were a little better, but winter was truly unbearable! Her husband had been to the forest farm a few times, and he was traumatized by it.

The winters in Changbai Mountain are truly something else. Sakhalin Island is quite cold in winter, but compared to Changbai Mountain, it's nothing. In terms of sheer bitter cold, it rivals Siberia in Russia. The Greater and Lesser Khingan Mountains in Heilongjiang Province, and even the northernmost region of Mohe, are known for their aurora borealis. My brother-in-law dreads going to the forest farm in winter. Even with thick cotton-padded coats and hats, he can't ward off the Changbai Mountain chill unless he wears a fur coat and hat. But that's too extravagant; who ever sees workers wearing fur coats going up the mountain to cut timber or drive tractors? Of course, the bureau also spared no expense in providing warmth for the workers. The work clothes were all made of cotton, including military-style leather shoes and cotton-padded leather boots, all reimbursed and distributed by the forestry bureau. Because the forestry bureau was profitable, the workers' benefits were many times better than those of the local miners. The forestry bureau was a star enterprise, envied even by power plant workers, let alone the most famous local textile factory. At the end of the workday, one could see the graceful figures of female textile factory workers leaving get off work at the crossroads. The textile factory was almost entirely filled with beautiful, young women in their prime.

The second older sister sincerely considered her younger brother's future, saying things like, "For the sake of your career, you should stay in the Forestry Bureau. After you get married, your children's education will be much easier. The schools in the bureau are all well-known in Jilin Province. Their primary, middle, and high schools consistently win awards in math, physics, and chemistry competitions. Daokou Middle School, Linhai Middle School, and Linhai High School are among the best schools in the city. Although they are enterprise schools run by the Forestry Bureau, it's still very difficult for local children to get in through connections. Of course, the bureau has built many primary and middle schools in the forest farms, but the level is still far behind the bureau's schools." The older sister kept repeating, "Schools in the mountains can never compete with education outside the mountains."

"Second sister, is Beijing, outside Shanhaiguan, better than our Forestry Bureau?"

“Honglin, are you really going to Beijing? It’s too far from home.”

"Second sister, I want to go to the mountains to drive the Dongfanghong tractor, not to be a lumberjack. The mountains have the most beautiful azaleas."

"Azalea! Isn't it just azalea?"

"It's different! Second Sister is really different! What Teacher Li said is different!"

"Did Li Yuqing say that? Brother, who cares about you more than me?"

"Teacher Li also said, who cares about him more than his brother?"

“Brother! If Hongqi goes to the mountains, I’ll raise my hand and applaud. As for Hongli, I’ll be happy if he drives a locomotive in the mountains in the future. Brother, is your sister running a fever? Don’t be like Honghua, who’s missing a screw in her head.”

"Second sister, you must not know about Minzhong Temple. Teacher Li told me why she went to work in the bureau. Sister, we can't forget the chocolates that the Volunteer Army soldiers gave us. They were so sweet, I really want to eat fried noodles. Those were good times. Our whole family made fried noodles for the Volunteer Army. Back then, to protect our country, fried noodles were the army's rations."

Second Sister Hongying knew she couldn't persuade her stubborn younger brother, a trait he inherited from their father. Like Honglin, their father had moved the whole family to the Forestry Bureau so Hongyu and her could attend school, giving up everything they owned and building a new home there. Hongying was quite angry; was he clearly looking down on her for her lack of experience by bringing up the Minzhong Temple, which he knew nothing about? But Hongying also had reason to be proud.

Behind the house, on a large platform, dozens of kilometers of air-raid shelters were built, a playground for children. These shelters were of the highest level, capable of holding the entire population of the forestry bureau, completely impervious to Soviet tank onslaughts, planes, artillery, and even nuclear missile bombardments. Faced with the Soviet threat, the entire nation was united, with no intention of retreating. In war, the brave prevail; only preparedness can prevent war. The militia and reserves intensified their training and drills constantly, even amidst production work. My second brother-in-law, one of the militia leaders in the bureau, frequently participated in the bureau's militia target practice. They used Type 54 pistols, Type 56 semi-automatic rifles, and submachine guns; ammunition was unlimited. They had a blast, loading their submachine guns, pulling the triggers, and firing away—it was incredibly satisfying. The militia training is close to actual combat in order to train militiamen who can fight and win battles and have combat effectiveness. The construction of air-raid shelters and large-scale military training across the country, and the routine of militia target practice are no different from setting off firecrackers during the Spring Festival. In fact, the grand occasion of firecrackers and submachine gun target practice during the Spring Festival is even a common occurrence. It is a true era of the whole nation being soldiers.

My second sister's husband and my eldest sister's husband have different attitudes towards their unborn child; they're currently busy naming their son. They've read many books, including one about how a woman's facial features hardly change, but she becomes extremely picky about food. My second sister's pregnancy is exactly like that. Both she and her husband prefer a son and don't particularly like daughters, especially my second sister who's genuinely afraid her first child will be a girl. Her husband, Zhao Mengji, is a very kind man, comforting her by saying it doesn't matter if it's a boy or a girl, though he knows there's a 90% chance it's a boy. Zhao Mengji is cultured, well-versed in classics, and has a wealth of knowledge. He's come up with countless names, and he's also consulted the I Ching and the Five Elements theory, including the *Chunqiu Fanlu* and Dong Zhongshu's Yin-Yang and Five Elements theory—all rooted in traditional culture and the Eight Characters of Birth. These cultures are quite sophisticated and don't exclude those considered superstitious, like the so-called "yin-yang masters." The yin-yang masters in Northeast China are also quite particular; because of the revelation of heavenly secrets, almost all those practicing this profession are blind.

Zhao Mengfan and Zhang Honglin got along quite well, sharing similar concerns. At the bureau, the older brother, Zhao Mengji, had introduced his younger brother to a security guard job. It wasn't physically demanding, just night shifts, sitting at the gate watching over the timber in the factory—quite easy. But Zhao Mengfan felt the job was a bit embarrassing, and his father chimed in, saying that his eldest son making his younger son do such a shameful job was a disgrace to the whole family. Wasn't it similar to the old night watchman in the folktale of the embroidered shoes? The troublesome father from Jilin was always afraid his younger son would end up like the old night watchman in the embroidered shoes, scared to death by a female ghost. When Zhao Mengfan heard that Zhang Honglin was going to drive an Dongfanghong tractor at the forest farm, he thought it was such a cool job, sure to attract girls. What was the difference between driving a tractor and driving a Jiefang brand truck? Both were exactly what girls wanted. But Honglin was unaware of Mengfan's ulterior motives. Zhao Mengfan had seen beautiful girls in Jilin City and was much more mature than Zhang Honglin. His honesty was feigned; deep down, he was a chauvinist, just like his father in Jilin. He believed women had to be treated harshly, and if they didn't serve their men well, they'd be beaten. He also secretly spoke ill of his father, saying that his eldest brother was a freeloader, always listening to his sister-in-law, and that she didn't let him eat his fill. In reality, the second brother was utterly heartless. Hongying and Mengji provided him with both help and food for his job. Their home was Zhao Mengfan's hotel and canteen; he would eat roast chicken and drink the most expensive Zhuyeqing liquor all by himself when he got paid. He was a lazy, gluttonous, and good-for-nothing.

In truth, Zhao Mengji was quite cunning. Deep down, he hoped his brother-in-law would quickly abandon his nihilistic art of starvation. Now that their mother had lost her source of income, this was the perfect opportunity. When their father was alive, he and Hongying could freeload off him. But now that their father was gone, what if Zhang Honglin continued to pursue art? Zhao Mengji was educated, well-versed in Marxism-Leninism, and understood capitalism perfectly. What does it mean to lose income? Capital clearly tells him that without income, there will be an economic crisis. For a family, an economic crisis is worse than death. When a person is alive and has no income, thinking about how their father's extravagant lifestyle in Jilin had led to the family's economic crisis, bankruptcy, and massive gambling debts, and how their mother couldn't afford medical treatment—in reality, their mother's death was all because of that troublesome old man—is unbearable.

However, Zhao Mengji still felt that Zhang Honglin was a true artist, a cultured man, and a man of refinement, a hundred times better than his rogue younger brother. Hearing from his wife Hongying that Zhao Mengfan, spurred on by Zhang Honglin, also wanted to work in the forest farm, he was initially surprised. Later, he thought that the forest farm might be a good path. In the forestry bureau, only those with education could gain a foothold, while Zhao Mengfan was an alcoholic. If he went to the forest farm, Zhao Mengji would be relieved. He could figure out which forest farm to get him into, pull some strings, and do some heavy lifting. For example, Zhao Mengfan's intelligence was such that he couldn't drive a tractor, much less operate a chainsaw, load trucks, or tie ropes—his father in Jilin would go crazy! His youngest son was the epitome of all his father's flaws. Ah! This was too difficult.

Zhao Mengji was hungry, so he ate the leftover steamed buns from Honglin and Mengfan. He thought to himself that he had to send his devilish younger brother to the forest farm to make a living. If he stayed by Zhao Mengji's side any longer, his brother would become malnourished. His son was about to be born, and he couldn't have another uncle stealing his nutrition. Otherwise, his son would be malnourished from birth. Hongying seemed to understand Zhao Mengji's thoughts, and the couple were on the same page, but they always spoke indirectly.

Hongying asked Mengji, "Have you heard of Minzhong Temple?"

"Do you want to become a monk? Feudalism is not allowed now."

"Honglin chatted for quite a while."

This stumped Zhao Mengji. He quickly sought help from Cheng Gong, the high school math teacher next door. But math teachers don't know much about cultural history, so he turned to Lu Shitou, a renowned scholar of literature and history. Lu Shitou, the "Silly Lu," never consulted his lectures, possessing a photographic memory. He lectured Zhao and Cheng, half-sarcastically, half-mockingly, on these historical matters for over an hour. "Temples have always been built to deliver sentient beings from suffering, haven't they? Modern people don't care, but the ancients were," he said. "They cared about rituals, about feng shui; temples and pagodas were built to ward off evil spirits." Of course, Cheng and Zhao had also reviewed some important historical facts with Lu Shitou. For Zhao Mengji, losing face in front of outsiders was no big deal; he couldn't show weakness in front of Hongying—that was his so-called bottom line. However, Zhao was still a beneficiary of his marriage. His family hadn't approved of it, but since marrying Hongying, he was no longer hungry; instead, he had plenty of food, and his home began to show signs of wealth and prosperity. Living among intellectuals, Lao Zhao was very popular. These scholars from the city loved to visit Lao Zhao's home for fun and games. The two of them worked together quite well. Lao Cheng's wife was a formidable woman, but she seemed like a different person in front of Hong Ying. Lao Cheng even praised Hong Ying for being a social butterfly. Lao Cheng's wife's pregnancy and delivery date were around the same time as Hong Ying's. Lao Cheng often joked with Lao Zhao about how it would be best if they became in-laws in the future.

After leaving his second sister's house, Honglin's first thought was of his third aunt. Although she had said some nonsensical things about his father's death, Honglin had matured considerably since then. His aunt's words, though harsh, were not without merit. She resented his father for neglecting his health. If he had been more attentive, he wouldn't have suffered a brain hemorrhage and died without a chance of rescue. He was too focused on work. Drinking is fine, but drink less; smoking is fine, but smoke less; take it easy at work. This workaholic, he'd just gotten a little opportunity and then gone to the bureau. His aunt was doubly heartbroken. Now, only she truly cared about her sister. Her children were either married, busy with their own families, or still in school and too young to understand. At home, his aunt was a queen. Now, with the children grown up, her husband didn't dare sit at the same table with her. He never ate on the kang (heated brick bed), always eating silently on a low stool below, treating his wife with the same reverence one would show a mistress, never daring to rebel. She was quite avant-garde even before Liberation, often mocking her sister for abusing her feet, saying those big feet were so down-to-earth. Ever since her sister got married, she disliked her brother-in-law, only putting up with it out of consideration for her nephews and nieces. But for some reason, her third aunt always felt sorry for her nephew Honglin, while she found the other nephews and nieces annoying. Her third aunt had already made up her mind, and politely said to her sister, "Sister, life is unpredictable!"

"Sister, I can't live like this anymore."

Auntie San knew better than anyone else what was going on. She understood her sister's heartache; she could only rely on a man. The dead man had been too cruel, even taking her sister's place in his womb before he died. She had already decided that she could simply find another man openly and honestly. Giving all her dignity to the dead—was there no way out for the living? Of course there was. The one who tied the knot must untie it; the biggest obstacle was still Zhang Honglin. Auntie San felt like crying just thinking about her poor nephew who had lost his father. Her poor nephew had such a bright future, but he also had one great virtue: every gesture he made showed respect and obedience to his elders.

My third aunt came to my sister's house not for fun, but to discuss a major matter. She went straight to the point, a simple matter of daily life. A large family can't be without a responsible man; this isn't a bad thing, it's a good thing. To put it bluntly, it's about finding a devoted man who can be both a husband and support the children's education. The core of a woman's world is having a man behind her, like the men behind Empress Dowager Xiaozhuang, the three Dorgon brothers, and even Huang Taiji understood that without Dayuer's support, Shunzhi wouldn't have become the first emperor of the Qing Dynasty. Married daughters can't be relied upon, and even relying on Honglin wouldn't be immediately effective; it's a long-term solution. Seeing the time was right, my third aunt said seriously to my sister, "The daughters belong to other families. My Liangzi can do everything now, and he gives me all his monthly salary. Sister, do you understand? We still need a reliable son. However, Hongying and Hongyu have done their best, and their husbands are all educated men; they haven't embarrassed you, they've made you proud."

"Culture doesn't put food on the table. I'd rather my daughters lose face and help support their brothers and sisters, even though they themselves are struggling. My daughters, like me, are about to give birth again, but the fathers of the children can just leave without a word."