Chapter 14: Chapter 14: Moving Rations and Eating Chicken Drumsticks

“Oh right, my rations are still at the Educated Youth Compound. Comrade Qiu, could you please give me the rest of my grain?”

There had been a grain distribution earlier in the year, so she still had quite a bit of rations left at the compound. That day, when they helped her pack up her things, they somehow forgot about the grain.

Qiu Shuxia was mainly in charge of logistics at the Educated Youth Compound. For example, she managed everyone’s rations—how much each person handed in, how much they ate at each meal, how much was left—she kept a record of it all. It wasn’t absolutely perfect, but it was pretty close.

Don’t be surprised. In these times, even a handful of rice was precious, so of course everything had to be carefully accounted for.

Qiu Shuxia had been sneaking glances at her female comrades in the kitchen when she borrowed the cart earlier. Now, suddenly being called out, she answered slowly, her eyes darting toward Jiang Xue, clearly acting like a lackey.

Gu Qinghuan impatiently urged, “Could you hurry up? I have other things to do.”

Jiang Xue said mockingly, “Almost forgot, you’re a stepmom now. Busy! Qiu Shuxia’s just worried you won’t be able to carry it all. What’s your rush?”

“Whether I can carry it or not is none of your business. If you’ve got that much free time, worry about yourself instead,” Gu Qinghuan shot back directly.

Jiang Xue glared at her, annoyed. She’d originally planned to withhold Gu Qinghuan’s rations and mess with her a bit, but after hearing about Gu Qinghuan’s “feat” of demanding grain from Liu Guifang’s house that afternoon, she didn’t dare hold back anymore.

It seemed Gu Qinghuan had gotten even crazier after getting married. Could craziness be contagious?

She gave Qiu Shuxia a look, and Qiu Shuxia had no choice but to go to her room and fetch her record book.

Gu Qinghuan successfully received her rations: 223 jin of corn, 108 jin of potatoes, 41 jin of wheat, and 5 jin of soybeans.

All of this was what the original owner had scrimped and saved during the first half of the year.

She had her things now, but getting them home would be a bit of a hassle. Still, she had a solution.

“Anyone free to help me carry this home? I’ll give you a jin of corn,” Gu Qinghuan called out.

A jin of corn could be ground into enough cornmeal for two or three meals—four if you had a small appetite.

“Me!”

“Can I help?”

She’d expected only the men to respond, but to her surprise, a woman volunteered too.

The volunteers were Zhu Chunlin and a tall girl named Lin Shengnan. Lin Shengnan was something of an oddball at the compound—she could eat and work as much as any man.

Two helpers weren’t too many, one wouldn’t be too few—Gu Qinghuan was happy either way.

“Great, thank you both. I’ll scoop out your reward first.” She borrowed Zhu Chunlin’s lunchbox and filled one box of corn for each of them.

A full jin, if not more.

The onlookers started to regret not volunteering. This was real, tangible payment—grain was so precious these days, and every household was short. All it took was a trip.

Chen Jianghe stood by with a dark expression, sulking that Gu Qinghuan would rather give away grain to others than ask him for help.

“Some people become the Party Secretary’s daughter-in-law and suddenly act all generous. Can’t even feed herself, but wants to play the philanthropist,” Jiang Xue sneered again.

Gu Qinghuan clapped her hands, stood up, and glared at her. “Are you done yet? Quit your yapping. If you’ve got the guts, let’s settle this with a fight!”

Gu Qinghuan had learned Sanda (Chinese kickboxing) in her previous life—she’d always preferred to solve problems with her fists rather than words, and this woman was getting on her nerves.

Jiang Xue was startled. In the past, whenever she made snide remarks, Gu Qinghuan would just ignore her, which only encouraged her further. She hadn’t expected Gu Qinghuan to stand up to her this time.

The other female educated youths quickly tried to calm things down. “Alright, Jiang Xue, that’s enough.”

“So you don’t want to fight? Then shut your dog mouth. Next time you start, I’ll hit you every time I see you,” Gu Qinghuan threatened, waving her fist.

Jiang Xue stormed off to her room in a huff and didn’t come out for the rest of the night.

Everyone at the compound was stunned. They hadn’t expected the usually quiet and reserved Gu Qinghuan to change so much after getting married. But maybe that was a good thing—at least she wouldn’t be bullied anymore.

Gu Qinghuan picked up a bag of wheat and soybeans.

The other four bags were carried on the shoulders of Zhu Chunlin and Lin Shengnan.

Together, they made their way back to her new home at the foot of the mountain.

“Da Bao, Bei Bei, open the door! I’m back!” Gu Qinghuan called out loudly.

Within a minute, the door opened from inside, and Bei Bei ran out, calling sweetly, “Mama, you’re back! We’ve already cleaned up the whole house!”

Da Bao didn’t say anything, but sensibly ran over to help carry the bags.

Gu Qinghuan handed him the lighter bag of soybeans and freed up a hand to ruffle Bei Bei’s hair. “Good girl.”

It was getting late. Zhu Chunlin and Lin Shengnan helped carry the rations into the main room and then took their leave.

The house was pitch black—there wasn’t even a kerosene lamp, and she didn’t dare use the flashlight recklessly.

Gu Qinghuan had no choice but to buy two kerosene lamps and some kerosene from the vending machine.

Finally, there was a bit of light. It was faint, but the house was much cleaner than before. Except for some high places they couldn’t reach, they’d tidied up almost everything.

“Ta-da! Guess what this is?” Gu Qinghuan took out a big round ball wrapped in tinfoil.

Bei Bei sniffed hard with her little nose. “Is it something yummy?”

Da Bao knew right away—it had to be the roast chicken Gu Qinghuan had promised.

“You both did a great job today and helped me solve a big problem. This is your reward—roast chicken! Come and eat!”

Gu Qinghuan unwrapped the foil, revealing the fragrant roast chicken inside.

She’d made it in an Orleans (Western-style) flavor—kids usually loved that. The marinating time was a bit short, so the flavor wasn’t as strong, but the kids weren’t picky.

“Wow, Mama, it smells so good!” Bei Bei hugged the table leg, staring at the chicken, practically drooling.

Da Bao was just as entranced by the aroma.

After two days of eating white rice porridge and steamed buns, and now roast chicken, it all felt like a dream to Da Bao—he was afraid he’d wake up.

Neither of them asked where the chicken came from, so the explanation Gu Qinghuan had prepared wasn’t needed.

She took out the four sets of bowls and chopsticks she’d bought earlier and began dividing up the chicken.

She tore off the two drumsticks for the kids, gave herself and the “madman” a wing each, and the breast meat—which was a bit tough and hard for the kids to chew—she gave to the madman, since he had a bigger appetite.

The rest of the meat was divided among their bowls.

“Here you go, these are yours. Eat up! This one’s for your dad—Da Bao, help feed him.”

Gu Qinghuan was about to dig into her own share when Da Bao suddenly pressed down on her bowl.

He picked up the drumstick from his own bowl and put it into hers. “You eat the drumstick.”

A wave of warmth washed over Gu Qinghuan. For the first time, she felt the happiness of raising children—when the kids were so sensible and sweet, all the hardship was worth it.

Da Bao hadn’t called her “mom,” but for a child to give her his big drumstick, it meant he’d already accepted her in his heart.

Bei Bei, seeing her brother’s action, thought for a moment, then pushed her own bowl over. “Mama, you can have my drumstick too.”

Gu Qinghuan smiled silently, tears welling up in her eyes. She put the drumsticks back in their bowls and pinched their cheeks. “Mama doesn’t like drumsticks. I have a wing. You two eat more so you can grow strong and help Mama with more things.”

She really meant it—she liked wings better than drumsticks.

But the two kids were deeply moved, thinking their mom was giving them the best part and only eating the bones herself.

Da Bao quietly wiped away his tears, vowing to repay Gu Qinghuan well in the future.

It had to be said—this was a beautiful misunderstanding."

"Chapter 15: Xu Huaian Has PTSD

Da Bao carried two bowls into the east room, eating while feeding his father at the same time.

Gu Qinghuan specially lit a kerosene lamp for them, then took Beibei to eat in the main hall.

After finishing the roast chicken, Gu Qinghuan snuck into her space again and brought out a few bottles of Telunsu milk, pouring them into bowls for the two kids to drink.

She tossed the bottles back into her space to destroy the evidence.

Once everyone was fed and watered, it was time to wash up and go to bed—there wasn’t any entertainment to speak of at this hour.

The kitchen hadn’t been tidied up yet, and there was no firewood at home, so they couldn’t heat water.

Gu Qinghuan fetched a bucket of well water, took out four new towels from her space—one for each person in the family—and they all washed up quickly and simply.

Da Bao carried a small clay pot out from the east room to empty it, then rinsed it clean and brought it back inside.

Gu Qinghuan understood—this was for his father’s needs. What a filial child. Many adults wouldn’t take such careful care of their parents, and he was still just a kid.

She couldn’t help but sigh: poor children grow up fast.

Beibei, the little girl, was sensitive and quickly noticed Gu Qinghuan’s gaze. She hurriedly grabbed her hand and said earnestly, “Mom, Dad isn’t a bad person. He’s the best person in the world.

Don’t believe what the villagers say. Dad let himself be tied up for our sake. Otherwise, no one could beat him.”

By the end, the little girl was choking up.

Gu Qinghuan patted her back to comfort her.

“When Dad first came back, he was actually really nice. He’d often take us up the mountain to pick fruit. But one time, we ran into a wild boar on the mountain. The boar almost hurt my brother, and Dad killed it with his bare hands.

After the boar died, Dad’s eyes turned red, and he started running wildly through the woods. When the villagers came to carry the boar back, Dad suddenly went crazy and started hitting anyone he saw.

No one could stop him. Then, all of a sudden, he seemed to snap out of it.

Not long after, some village kids bullied my brother. Dad fought with the villagers to protect him. After he came to his senses that time, he agreed to let everyone tie him up.

My brother and I know in our hearts that he’s afraid he’ll lose control and hurt us by accident. That’s why he let them tie him up.”

The little girl’s story gave Gu Qinghuan some ideas.

Xu Huaian had been discharged from the army suddenly due to mental problems, but his illness wasn’t congenital.

This sounded a lot like what’s called post-traumatic stress disorder—PTSD—a psychological aftermath of experiencing or confronting extreme stress, leaving a person with severe psychological trauma.

According to Beibei, both times he lost control, there were specific triggers: when someone close to him was threatened or when he saw something stimulating.

“Does he have more clear-headed moments, or is he confused most of the time? What’s he like day to day?” Gu Qinghuan asked urgently. She wanted to confirm if Xu Huaian really had PTSD.

If so, it was truly tragic—a war hero, tied up like a madman in a dark room, suffering both physically and mentally. She couldn’t imagine how he’d survived.

“This past year, he’s been clear-headed less and less. He often can’t sleep, staring at the ceiling until dawn, having nightmares and then yelling in his sleep.

Sometimes he talks to himself, or suddenly gets very angry and refuses to cooperate with anything. If strangers come in, he gets really agitated and reacts strongly.

But when he’s clear-headed, he’s very gentle with us. He teaches us how to survive, which wild plants in the mountains are edible, which aren’t, and he even teaches my sister and me arithmetic.” This time, it was Da Bao who spoke up, having overheard their conversation.

Da Bao even took out a small bundle he’d brought to show Gu Qinghuan. Inside were Xu Huaian’s belongings: some documents, a few hospital slips, and a heavy packet of hard objects.

The hospital reports didn’t say much, just that it was a psychological and mental illness.

When Gu Qinghuan opened the packet of hard objects, she froze on the spot.

Having grown up in a peaceful era, she had never seen so many military medals before—and they all belonged to the same person.

There was even a First-Class Merit Medal inside.

That was no small feat—a living recipient of a First-Class Merit Medal! That medal meant he had given everything for his country and people, to the very end.

As a soldier of the people, he had truly lived up to his duty.

Gu Qinghuan deeply admired his willpower. Before he got sick, he must have been an outstanding soldier—a national hero.

She thought to herself, I have to do something for him.

Summing up what Da Bao and Beibei described: insomnia, nightmares, irritability, being easily startled, hypervigilance, anxiety, avoidance, and being trapped in memories.

These were classic symptoms of PTSD.

She could basically confirm that Xu Huaian was suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.

She knew about this illness because there had been a period when PTSD was widely discussed online, so she’d learned a lot about trauma-related psychological disorders.

Unfortunately, PTSD wasn’t even officially recognized by the American Psychiatric Association until the early 1980s, and effective treatments only emerged in recent times.

So, an outstanding soldier was misdiagnosed as insane due to psychological trauma, forced to retire.

Even his own parents treated him like a madman, tying him to a bed for over a year, and eventually abandoning him to die. In the book, his fate was to die a tragic death!

How ironic. How ridiculous.

Gu Qinghuan’s lips trembled, and tears rolled down her cheeks—tears of sympathy, pity, and respect for this poor man.

Even in such a state, he still worried about hurting others, willingly confining himself to a tiny room, relying on others for every need. For a normal person, that was unimaginable.

Gu Qinghuan gently patted the two children’s heads. “Don’t worry. Your father will get better.”

“Really?” The two children looked at her, eyes brimming with tears, hardly daring to believe it.

“Really. I promise I’ll find a way to help him. But for now, you two need to get some sleep.”

Just like the night before, the two children stayed with Xu Huaian in the east room, while Gu Qinghuan slept alone in the west room.

Before bed, Gu Qinghuan poured three cups of spiritual spring water for the two kids and Xu Huaian, only relaxing after watching them drink it.

Xu Huaian didn’t want to drink, glaring at them with bloodshot eyes and baring his teeth. This time, Gu Qinghuan wasn’t as scared as before. Instead, she went over and helped him drink it.

The spiritual spring water could subtly nourish the body and improve constitution. She hoped it might help his illness, even if just a little.

The kang bed in the room had been cleaned spotless by the two kids. The old bedsheet from the original owner had been used for Xu Huaian that afternoon, so she simply spread it in the east room for them to sleep on.

Gu Qinghuan also brought over the old quilt for them to use at night. The weather was getting colder, and they couldn’t go without covers.

Two kids and one thin adult—the quilt was just enough. Xu Huaian was so tall his feet stuck out, but it was better than nothing.

She really wondered how they’d survived past winters.

Da Bao looked at Gu Qinghuan with concern. “You gave us the quilt—won’t you be cold tonight?”

Gu Qinghuan had plenty of ways to stay warm. There were lots of quilts in the big villa, and she could even sleep there at night, which was much more comfortable than the kang.

But to keep Da Bao from worrying or feeling guilty, she reassured him, “I’m planning to make a new quilt anyway. You can use the old one. Besides, I have a thick cotton coat—it’s just as warm as a quilt, don’t worry.”

Seeing how serious she was, Da Bao finally relaxed and lay down.

Gu Qinghuan blew out the kerosene lamp. “Goodnight, sleep tight.”

Beibei sweetly echoed, “Goodnight, Mom.”

Da Bao also whispered in his heart, “Goodnight, Mom.”"

"Chapter 16: Treatment Plan, Wild Greens