Chapter 20: Chapter 20: Chopping Firewood and White Rice

“I’ll go with you. I can help pick up firewood, and Beibei can stay home to look after Dad,” Dabao insisted.

Of course, Gu Qinghuan wouldn’t agree to that.

“You stay home and keep an eye on the food. If your grandma and the others come by again, it wouldn’t be safe for Beibei to be home alone.”

Dabao thought it over and realized she was right, so he gave up on the idea of going up the mountain with her.

Gu Qinghuan shouldered the axe and headed up the mountain by herself.

Living at the foot of the mountain had its perks—the hillside was right outside the door.

There wasn’t much firewood at the base of the mountain; anything that could be gathered had long been picked clean. She followed a narrow path worn by the villagers, heading higher up.

On the way, she ran into quite a few people collecting firewood, but Gu Qinghuan kept to her usual self—quiet and reserved.

The forest belonged to the collective. Villagers weren’t allowed to cut down trees at will; they could only gather fallen branches and leaves. That was fair game and not considered sabotaging socialism.

People usually relied on these dry branches for cooking. As for firewood for winter, the village would organize a collective woodcutting at the end of the year, and each household would get as much as they could manage for the winter.

Gu Qinghuan wanted to find a secluded spot so she could cheat a bit with her space, so she kept climbing. After about half an hour of trekking through the woods, she finally reached a place rarely visited by others.

Because it was so far, no one bothered to come here for firewood—it was too much trouble to haul it back.

As a result, there were noticeably more dead branches and shrubs here, even a whole dead tree.

Gu Qinghuan thought about buying a chainsaw and clearing out the whole area like Bald Qiang from the cartoons, but she was afraid the noise would attract attention.

So she obediently put on her work gloves, picked up the axe, and got to work.

To her surprise, the axe worked really well. With the right technique, it cut through wood like butter, though the recoil was strong enough to make her hands go numb. Still, it wasn’t a big deal—she could handle it.

Before long, Gu Qinghuan had chopped a huge pile of branches, most about as thick as a baby’s arm—nice and dry, perfect for burning.

Once she had enough, she stopped to bundle the firewood using store-bought hemp rope. The villagers usually used bamboo strips, but she didn’t have time for that.

She sorted and tied up six large bundles of firewood. Checking the time in her space, she saw she’d come up at nine, and it was almost noon.

Time had flown by—she needed to hurry back and cook for the kids. She’d forgotten to leave them any fruit or snacks before she left.

This was when her space really came in handy.

Gu Qinghuan simply tossed the six bundles of firewood into her space, along with the axe—no need to carry anything back. Traveling light, she headed down the mountain quickly.

The way down was much faster than the climb up. On the way up, she’d only been looking for firewood and hadn’t noticed how beautiful the scenery was.

It was deep autumn in the mountains. The conifers, red pines, spruces, firs, maples, and sycamores were all turning red, their leaves carpeting the ground in a stunning red tapestry.

She also picked a few clusters of hazel mushrooms along the way—a key ingredient in the famous Northeast dish, chicken stewed with mushrooms. There was enough for a meal once they were dried.

Wild crabapples were everywhere in the mountains. When raw, they had to be steamed and mixed with sugar, or they’d be too sour. When fully ripe, they were sweet and had a sandy texture.

Thinking Beibei might like them, Gu Qinghuan picked a bunch and tossed them into her space.

On her way down, she hardly saw anyone else. Unlike Gu Qinghuan, who could cheat with her space, the others had to haul their bundles down one by one, which was much less efficient.

Almost home, Gu Qinghuan checked her surroundings—no one was around. She quickly took out the six bundles of firewood and placed them near the house.

“Dabao, Beibei, open the door! I’m back!”

She heard Beibei’s cheerful laughter from inside, and soon the door opened.

Gu Qinghuan carried the firewood, bundle by bundle, to the woodshed behind the kitchen.

The two kids just thought she was amazing. They didn’t question how she’d managed to gather so much firewood in one morning—after all, adults were much stronger than children.

Gu Qinghuan presented the wild crabapples to Beibei like a treasure, earning herself a big hug.

While the kids munched on crabapples, Gu Qinghuan washed up and started cooking.

There was plenty of meat in the fridge, but she couldn’t just make it appear out of nowhere, so she settled for the most explainable option: eggs.

For lunch, she simply made some rice and cooked eggs with wild shoots, plus a cold salad of the same shoots—the wild greens the kids had picked on the mountain yesterday. No sense letting them go to waste.

These were all quick dishes. In no time, the two little ones were eating white rice with eggs and wild shoots.

“Mom, are we really allowed to eat like this?” Beibei asked, feeling like their meals these days were as good as a last supper.

White rice and eggs—was this really something she was allowed to eat?

Dabao looked at the rice in his bowl, thinking that this much could make two meals of rice porridge. And hadn’t they just had eggs for breakfast? If they kept eating like this, he worried they’d be gnawing on tree bark by winter. Hunger had made him cautious.

“We don’t actually need to eat so well. Wild vegetable buns, cornmeal porridge, black bread—anything that fills us up is fine,” he whispered.

It was the first time Gu Qinghuan had ever been asked to lower the standard of meals.

The thing was, these two dishes on the table were already her minimum standard.

“Ahem.” Gu Qinghuan cleared her throat.

“What we eat at home is up to me. Don’t worry, we have enough food, and the money your dad gave us is more than enough for us to eat well.”

Hearing this, the two kids stopped worrying and dug in with gusto.

So this was what white rice tasted like—fragrant, soft, and chewy. The wild shoots weren’t bitter at all, and actually tasted pretty good.

This meal completely changed the kids’ view of food. What used to be barely edible, just enough to fill their bellies, became delicious in Gu Qinghuan’s skillful hands.

Gu Qinghuan quickly finished her own meal, then took the food to the east room to feed Xu Huai’an.

After a brief period of lucidity, he’d fallen into another bout of confusion, staring listlessly at the ceiling.

But he no longer bared his teeth at Gu Qinghuan. He seemed to recognize her and cooperated with eating, though he didn’t speak anymore.

After the meal, he drank another cup of spiritual spring water.

Gu Qinghuan told the kids to keep talking to him, even if he didn’t respond. He could sense them—he was just lost in his own emotions and didn’t want to interact.

After lunch, she planned to rest for a bit before heading out again in the afternoon to stock up on more firewood for the coming days.

In another month, the village would probably organize the collective woodcutting for winter. When the time came, she’d find a way to get even more firewood to last through the cold season."

"Chapter 21: Eldest Uncle, Wild Pheasants and Rabbits

At the Xu family’s place, Liu Guifang was making a scene at home, insisting on going to Gu Qinghuan to ask for more grain.

Xu Mingshan stepped in to put an end to the commotion.

He was someone who cared about saving face. Since they had already given the grain, it should be given openly and generously, maintaining some dignity and goodwill. If they gave it and then made a fuss about it, wouldn’t that just be slapping themselves in the face?

Liu Guifang, though fierce, didn’t dare go against Xu Mingshan’s decision and could only accept her bad luck.

In the end, no one believed her story about the missing grain. They all thought she was just making trouble for no reason.

But the Xu family didn’t really care about that bit of grain anyway.

Gu Qinghuan only managed to rest for a short while. The kang bed was too hard and uncomfortable—she just couldn’t sleep well.

She got up and started tidying up the belongings left by the original owner.

All the grain in the house was now stored in her room—big and small bags everywhere. Without a cabinet, it was really inconvenient.

There seemed to be a carpenter in the village; maybe he could make some cabinets? She’d have to get a few made soon.

The bedding and sheets from the original owner’s luggage had been given to the east room, so only some odds and ends were left.

There was an old military canteen, a toothbrush, a cup, a few patched-up old clothes, a pencil, and a notebook.

Seeing the military canteen suddenly triggered some memories from the original owner.

Gu Qinghuan had an uncle—her mother’s older brother—who was also a soldier. This canteen was a gift from her Uncle Zhong Ziyan. He truly doted on her and her brother, giving them anything they wanted.

Unfortunately, later on, because of family troubles, her uncle and his wife were sent to the remote northwest to reclaim wasteland. The place was plagued by sandstorms, and nothing would grow there. She really didn’t know how they managed to survive.

Luckily, their only daughter was already married by then, so she escaped that fate.

Her maternal grandparents and mother still had her to look after them, but her uncle’s situation was probably ten or even a hundred times harder. She had to find a way to send them some supplies.

Winter was coming soon, and both food and warm clothing were necessities.

Food was easy—she could buy it from the vending machine. But as for warm clothes, she couldn’t just send new ones. As “rightists” who’d been sent down, they couldn’t be seen wearing clean, comfortable new cotton-padded jackets.

With that in mind, Gu Qinghuan decided to make two “patched cotton jackets” herself and send them off with the food when she went to pick someone up tomorrow.

She opened the vending machine and bought two military coats—one for a man, one for a woman.

Nothing was warmer than a military coat in those days—they could serve as both clothing and bedding.

She suddenly remembered she had a big item stored in her villa’s warehouse.

It was the sewing machine her grandmother had brought as part of her dowry. Her grandma used to say that when she was young, she supported the whole family by working that sewing machine.

After her grandmother passed away, Gu Qinghuan kept the sewing machine as a keepsake. Now it could finally be put to use—no need to buy a new one.

She hauled out the old machine and got to work.

She took apart all the old clothes left by the original owner, pieced them together into a patchwork cover, and sewed it over the military coats. She didn’t sew it on permanently, so the patchwork cover could be removed and washed—convenient and clean.

Once the two “patched cotton jackets” were done, the two children woke up.

Gu Qinghuan gave them a few instructions, left them some White Rabbit candies, then grabbed her axe, slung her canteen over her shoulder, and headed out to the mountains to chop firewood.

On her way up the mountain, she ran into a few people from the educated youth compound gathering sticks halfway up.

They ignored her, which suited her just fine—she was happy to be left alone.

In the afternoon, she took a different route, heading deeper into the mountains as usual.

The scenery along the way was different.

She even ran into a snake out foraging, which scared her so much she ducked into her space and only came out after the snake had left.

But after that, her luck turned. She soon came across two wild chestnut trees and a grove of persimmon trees.

The fuzzy chestnut burrs hung all over the branches, and the persimmons were ripe—many had fallen to the ground, and birds were pecking away at the ones still on the trees.

She couldn’t let such a good thing go to waste, but picking them slowly was out of the question.

Kids make choices—adults take it all.

Gu Qinghuan tried touching the tree trunk, silently thinking, “Put it in the space.” In an instant, the whole tree vanished, leaving a deep hole in the ground.

She did the same with the two chestnut trees and the entire grove of heart-shaped persimmons, transplanting every last one into her space.

She watered them with a handful of spring water, and they were settled in.

After finishing her “dirty work,” Gu Qinghuan moved on, found a thicket with lots of dead branches, and started hacking away with her axe.

She gathered even more firewood than in the morning—probably seven or eight bundles’ worth. Too tired to tie them up, she plopped down on the ground to catch her breath. This kind of work was really exhausting.

She pulled out her military canteen and gulped down a big mouthful of spring water, finally feeling a bit better.

Gu Qinghuan thought that since she’d worked so hard today, she deserved something good for dinner.

Suddenly, she heard a strange noise. Looking down, she saw a gray rabbit practically throwing itself at her, running straight into her axe. Blood splattered everywhere.

“Waiting by a tree for a rabbit”—the ancients really weren’t lying.

Could such good luck really happen?

Gu Qinghuan raised her axe and finished off the rabbit, which finally stopped moving.

She tossed it into her space, happily started bundling up the firewood, and began thinking about how to cook the rabbit for dinner.

Spicy diced rabbit? Cold rabbit salad? Double pepper rabbit? Braised rabbit?

Just then, two wild pheasants flew over to the spot where she’d been sitting, pecking at the ground as if drawn by the scent.

Gu Qinghuan realized she must have spilled some spring water there when she was drinking.

She walked right over, and the pheasants, as if bewitched, didn’t even react. She grabbed one in each hand, tied them up, and tossed them into her space.

Was this stuff really so attractive to animals?

Thinking of the snake she’d seen earlier, and possibly wild boars with tusks, Gu Qinghuan shivered.

She quickly bundled up the firewood, tossed it into her space, and hurried back the way she came.

Not long after she left, a leopard followed the scent to the spot, but found nothing and left empty-handed.

As she neared the halfway point down the mountain, to avoid suspicion, Gu Qinghuan took out a bundle of firewood and slung it over her shoulder, struggling to make her way back.

It was hard enough just to walk in these mountains, let alone carry firewood. Every few steps, Gu Qinghuan had to stop and catch her breath.

After a while, she ran into the group from the educated youth compound, still gathering firewood.

Their efficiency was low—most of them were just going through the motions. Like the old saying goes: one monk carries water, two monks share the load, three monks have no water to drink.

There wasn’t much firewood left halfway up the mountain, and with most people not working seriously, they’d only managed to gather two bundles after all that time.

All of them together hadn’t collected as much as Gu Qinghuan had on her own.

Gu Qinghuan kept heading down the mountain with her firewood.

Suddenly, someone called out, “Comrade Gu, hello! Could I borrow your axe for a bit?”

It was Lin Shengnan, the female educated youth who had helped deliver grain yesterday."

"Chapter 22: Bath Time, New Clothes, Mom