Flip the table and divide the family property! Take his wife and daughter into the mountains and eat

Night had fallen, and the wind and snow were howling.

But in the Zhao family's new house at the west end of Kaoshantun Village, it was as warm as springtime.

The house is completely finished.

Red bricks and red tiles, brand new glass windows polished to a shine.

The newly built kang (heated brick bed) inside the house was burning hot, and the pine wood edges of the kang emitted a pleasant resinous aroma.

This is not just a house; it is a "monument of merit" erected by Zhao Shanhe in this era.

Lin Xiu sat cross-legged on the warm kang (a heated brick bed) and turned the small tin box containing money upside down.

Clang.

A few coins landed on the brand-new kang mat.

Although the money was gone, Lin Xiu still had a smile on her face.

Like a miser, she picked up the coins one by one and counted them one by one:

"One dollar, one dollar two cents, one dollar fifty cents..."

"Honey, even though I only have a little over three dollars left in my pocket, I feel so at ease."

Lin Xiu clutched the coins in her hand, looking at the bright and spacious room, her eyes crinkling into crescent moons with laughter:

"Back in the old house, even if I had ten yuan in my hand, the sound of the window paper flapping around would send chills down my spine. Now it's much better; the wind can't get through, and the snow can't touch me..."

Zhao Shanhe leaned against the pile of quilts, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, watching his wife count money with a smile.

His gaze followed Lin Xiu's smiling face downwards and landed on the hand she was holding the money in.

Zhao Shanhe's smile suddenly froze.

What kind of hands were those?

She was only twenty-four or twenty-five years old, a time when she should have been at her most tender.

But the back of his hand was covered with dark, cracked skin, and his knuckles were large and deformed. Because he had just washed the dishes, his chilblains were red and swollen like carrots.

At this moment, those rough, large hands were carefully clutching those pitiful few coins, which looked so glaringly obvious compared to the bright and shiny new kang mat beneath them.

Zhao Shanhe didn't say anything, but suddenly reached out and grabbed Lin Xiu's wrist.

"Huh? What's wrong?"

Lin Xiu was happily counting when he was startled by this grab.

She followed Zhao Shanhe's gaze and saw her own hands, which looked like tree bark.

A woman's instinct made her heart tighten.

She instinctively pulled back, trying to hide her hand in her sleeve, and blushed slightly, feeling a little embarrassed.

"Don't look at it... it looks awful. I just washed the clothes, and haven't even put on any lotion yet..."

It was this "shrinking back" action that, like a sharp knife, stabbed Zhao Shanhe hard into the heart.

He didn't let go; instead, he gripped it even tighter.

He stubbed out his cigarette and stared intently at those hands, feeling as if a wad of wet cotton was stuck in his throat.

"Xiuer..."

Zhao Shanhe's voice trembled, and tears fell without warning, pattering down onto Lin Xiu's frostbitten hands.

"How...how did it get like this?"

Memories from two lifetimes overlap.

In her past life, her hands were like this before she died, so thin they were just skin and bones, and she was still sewing patches for him.

"Your hands were so soft and tender when you married me... It's only been a few years! I've managed to make you look like this..."

Seeing her husband shed tears, Lin Xiu's heart softened instantly.

She no longer pulled her hand away, but instead grasped Zhao Shanhe's hand in return. Her eyes were red, but she still forced a smile.

"Silly girl... It's all part of daily life, every wife has rough hands."

"What kind of suffering is this? Look at us now, living in a big brick house, with a warm kang (heated brick bed), and we don't have to put up with that old hag's temper anymore. Isn't this a good life?"

She reached out and clumsily wiped away Zhao Shanhe's tears:

"Don't cry. Let's work hard and raise Niu Niu. When our daughter grows up and gets married... didn't you always say you'd take me to Beijing?"

Lin Xiu's eyes shone with boundless anticipation for the future:

"I want to see Tiananmen Square and the portrait of Chairman Mao. If I could go there at least once in my life, I would be happy even if my hands got a little rough."

Zhao Shanhe pulled his wife into his arms, nodded heavily, his voice choked with emotion but firm:

"Yes! Definitely! We'll take the sleeper train, and we'll go to a photo studio to have you dressed up beautifully for photos!"

……

The next morning, the snow stopped.

Zhao Shanhe got up very early. His wife's words last night filled him with energy.

He wants to earn back the money he earned for the Chinese New Year and the trip to Beijing.

He went back to the dilapidated outbuilding of the old house and took out the long bundle wrapped tightly in oilcloth from the hidden compartment of the "hanging cabinet".

brush!

The oilcloth was unfolded, revealing two dark brown furs.

Sable.

Zhao Shanhe's fingers gently stroked the silk-like needle hairs, his eyes becoming complicated.

He risked his life to go deep into the mountains before winter and spent four days and four nights lying in a snowdrift before he finally got it.

Originally, this was the "life-saving money" that the previous owner left for his younger sister, Zhao Xiaolan, to go to university.

In his past life, his mother was biased and didn't pay for his tuition, so he sold his possessions to support his sister's education.

No, it's not necessary now.

……

The back mountain, deep in the old forest.

The dugout, half-buried in the ground and surrounded by a two-meter-high wooden wall, still exuded a menacing aura that kept strangers at bay.

This is Old Sun's home, and also a forbidden area for dozens of miles around.

Before he even reached the door, Zhao Shanhe heard the low whimpers coming from the old dogs inside the house.

In addition, a burst of extremely loud and boisterous laughter came from inside the house, mixed with a few words of foreign language that were difficult to understand.

"Harasho! Harasho! Ivan, your alcohol tolerance is truly remarkable!"

That was Old Sun's voice, and he sounded quite happy.

Zhao Shanhe wondered: This strange old man usually doesn't even talk to the village chief. With the heavy snow blocking the mountain, who could possibly find his way here to drink with him?

He quickened his pace, walked to the front of the log cabin, and knocked on the heavy wooden door.

"Old Sun! I am Shanhe!"

"Come in! The door's unlocked!"

From inside came Old Sun's powerful roar.

As Zhao Shanhe pushed open the door, a wave of warm air, a mixture of the smells of tobacco, strong liquor, and barbecue, hit him.

The room was still dimly lit, with only a little bit of snow light shining through a small window.

On the kang table was a large bowl of hand-pulled mutton and several empty wine bottles.

Old Sun was sitting cross-legged, wearing a shiny leather coat, his face flushed from drinking, and he was playing with a delicate Soviet-made folding knife in his hand.

Opposite him sat a foreigner with a "big nose" who looked as muscular as a brown bear!

His golden hair was messy, he had a thick beard, and his eyes were grayish-blue.

He was holding a large teacup with a handle, tilting his head back to pour baijiu (Chinese liquor) into his mouth, slapping his thigh and laughing loudly as he did so.

"Oh my! Shanhe is here!"

Upon seeing Zhao Shanhe, Old Sun's eagle-like eyes flashed with a sharp light. He waved and shouted, "Quick, quick! Get on the kang! We have a distinguished guest today!"

Zhao Shanhe put down his basket and glanced at the foreigner without making a sound.

He wore a Soviet-style woolen military overcoat with extremely fine workmanship. Although it was a bit old, the material was obviously of high quality.

He was wearing high-top leather boots and a huge diving watch on his wrist.

This outfit definitely doesn't belong to an ordinary tech expert. It looks more like the work of a "tough guy" who makes a living on the border.

"Sir, who is this...?"

"This is an old friend I met at the border, his name is... Ivanov!"

Old Sun patted the foreigner on the shoulder, a wicked grin on his face: "He used to be a big expert in the Soviet Union, now he says he's doing... trade research? I think he's just a middleman!"

"His car broke down on the way, and he found his way here in the dark. This old Russian, he might not be good at much else, but he has a really good nose! He smelled my alcohol and came right into the house!"

The Soviet man named Ivanov wasn't angry when he heard the term "middleman."

He let out a burp, his eyes glazed over with drunkenness as he looked at Zhao Shanhe, his body swaying as if he were about to collapse at any moment.

But when his grey-blue eyes swept over Zhao Shanhe, they did not have the murky look of a drunkard.

He called out in broken Chinese with a heavy oyster accent, "Hello... comrade! Businessman! Let's drink!"

At this moment, Zhao Shanhe understood perfectly.

This is what Old Sun mentioned before: in a couple of days, there will be a dealer coming from the south who has special channels to buy fine leather.

In the early 80s, undercurrents began to stir along the Sino-Soviet border.

People like Ivanov used their positions or personal connections to smuggle scarce light industrial goods over there and then smuggle heavy industrial products and timber over there. It was a hidden river flowing with gold.

And now, this man who holds the golden key to the entrance of the underground river is sitting on Grandpa Sun's kang (heated brick bed), drinking cheap liquor that costs only a few cents a pound.

Zhao Shanhe did not speak immediately.

He first took off his dog-skin hat at a leisurely pace, patted the snow off his body, and casually put his basket on the ground.

Then, he walked to the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), tapped his heels to remove the mud and snow from the soles of his shoes, took off his shoes, climbed onto the kang, and sat steadily at the end of the kang.

"Ivan."

Old Sun saw that Zhao Shanhe sat as still as Mount Tai, and a hint of admiration flashed in his eyes.

He picked up his wine bowl, pointed to Zhao Shanhe beside him, and casually said, "That 'Leopard' card you just picked out, this is the one this kid played."

"Oh?"

Upon hearing this, Ivanov, who had been feigning madness, paused slightly.

He slowly put down the large teacup in his hand, and his body stopped swaying.

He turned his head, his grey-blue eyes scanning Zhao Shanhe up and down, then grinned and gave him a thick thumbs-up:

"Comrade, excellent marksmanship!"

After saying this, he reverted to his drunken state, picked up his drink, and didn't mention the business deal at all.

"Next time...if there's a chance, let's go hunting together!"

Zhao Shanhe looked at the old Russian and laughed too.

This person is an expert, a master.

Since we're all ancient foxes, there's no need to tell any stories from Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio.

Zhao Shanhe didn't speak, and didn't even respond to the suggestion of "hunting together".

He simply reached into his pocket, slowly touched the corner of the oilcloth package, pulled it out, and slapped it lightly onto the wine-stained kang table with a "thud".