Chapter 294: Chapter 294: Badger Oil and Cotton-Padded Jackets

After winter set in, that’s when the real test for the children began.

Most of them wore patched-up, threadbare cotton jackets that barely kept out the cold—so faded you could hardly tell what color they’d once been. Felt shoes were standard issue: not much to look at, but at least they kept feet from freezing stiff. But the hands, faces, and ears left exposed to the elements were another story—raw and swollen, red as beets, and so chapped they’d crack and bleed with the slightest movement. That, too, was standard for everyone.

Yet the children acted as if nothing was wrong, heads bent in concentration as they wrote, their perseverance nothing short of admirable. If this were today, parents would be heartbroken to see it.

Gu Qinghuan glanced at their hands, then at her own, and let out a quiet sigh.

She didn’t dare give them any frostbite ointment. But after some research, she learned that badger oil was quite effective for frostbite.

A quick look at the vending machine showed a tiny jar of farmed badger oil cost a whopping three yuan. With so many kids in her class, one jar per child would mean spending over a hundred yuan—and even then, there was no guarantee it would work.

No, that wouldn’t do. Better to rely on herself.

She racked her brain—badgers, where had she seen one before? Then she remembered: there was a badger on her own ranch, one she and Xu Huai’an had caught in the woods ages ago. They’d meant to try eating it, but with so much other meat around, it had slipped her mind.

The badger had no natural enemies, spending its days eating and sleeping, growing so fat it was practically a ball—must weigh at least fifty jin by now.

The fatter, the more oil—after raising it for so long, it was time for it to give back.

Badgers have a thick layer of subcutaneous fat, especially around the rump, where it can be three or four centimeters thick. There’s also plenty of fat in the abdominal cavity and on the omentum. To extract badger oil, you separate all the fat, then render it slowly over low heat until it turns a pale yellow. Strain out the solids, and you have your oil. You can’t use high heat, or the color and flavor will be ruined.

Gu Qinghuan’s badger was much bigger than average—she ended up with a full seven jin of oil, proof of just how fat it was.

She divided the seven jin of badger oil into small 50-gram jars—seventy in total.

Every child in her class who suffered from frostbite got a jar. After all, these were her kids, and she felt a special attachment to them.

The remaining forty jars were distributed evenly among the other classes—two or three per class, managed by the class monitors. Any child who needed it could ask the monitor for some.

There was no way she could give every child in the school their own jar, so this was the best she could do.

Maybe it was because the badger had lived in her space for a year, but the oil worked wonders on frostbite—almost instantly effective. After just a few days, the children’s hands showed obvious improvement, no more cracked skin.

Everyone raved about it. The teacher in charge of logistics even came to ask where she’d gotten the badger oil, saying it worked better than anything they’d ever used before, and asking if she could buy some every year for the kids.

Of course, Gu Qinghuan couldn’t tell the truth—she just said she’d bought it somewhere and couldn’t find the seller anymore.

After winter started, Gu Qinghuan quietly pulled off another big move.

She bought a thousand old-style cotton-padded jackets from the vending machine. The style was so outdated that no one wanted them, and they’d been sitting in stock for ages, so the seller was practically giving them away—just 99 cents each.

For Gu Qinghuan, that translated to just 0.99 yuan per jacket. At that price, who needed anything fancier?

Sure, the style was old and the colors weren’t great, but that was exactly what she wanted—it fit the era perfectly. In fact, for this time period, they were actually quite fashionable, and stuffed with thick, old-fashioned cotton.

She ordered a thousand jackets in various sizes for different age groups, spending a total of 990 yuan.

The commune’s elementary school had just over 800 students—more than enough. Any leftovers could be given out next year, nothing wasted.

But she couldn’t donate them under her own name—that would be too conspicuous. After all, buying a thousand thick cotton jackets would cost several thousand yuan at least. Who would have that kind of money and still be working as a teacher here?

Well, actually, she did—but she couldn’t exactly flaunt it.

On a dark, windy night, Gu Qinghuan left the thousand jackets, all packed up, at the gatehouse.

The next morning, Uncle Zhang the gatekeeper opened the door to find several huge packages outside, with a letter slipped through the crack.

The letter read:

“A friendly donation of one thousand cotton-padded jackets. Please ensure every child receives one. This is important.”

He immediately brought the packages inside and handed the letter to the principal.

Principal Chen recognized the handwriting—it was the same as the person who’d donated the gold bars last time!

This was wonderful—the children desperately needed warm, comfortable jackets.

So, every child got a jacket, distributed to each class.

The kids who’d never had a proper winter coat finally had something warm to wear—they wouldn’t have to suffer through the cold this winter.

In the blink of an eye, January arrived, and winter break was just around the corner.

Gu Qinghuan focused on helping her students prepare for final exams.

The classroom windows and doors were tightly shut, with two braziers burning at the front and back. It was still cold, but much better than the biting wind outside.

This year, the children wore clean, comfortable jackets. Their hands were no longer red and itchy, and their minds were clearer than ever.

Gu Qinghuan paced the classroom, completely unaware that a huge surprise awaited her.

As soon as the bell rang, the children rushed out. Gu Qinghuan gathered her things and headed out as well.

Just as she reached the bottom of the stairs, she ran right into a pair of deep, affectionate eyes.

A travel-worn man, gaze full of longing, locked eyes with her across the crowd. For a moment, time seemed to stand still.

It took Gu Qinghuan a second to react, but then she rushed forward, not even noticing when her books fell into the snow.

The man opened his arms and pulled her in, embracing her with a passion that put every TV drama to shame.

After a long separation, Gu Qinghuan and Xu Huai’an finally reunited, holding each other tightly, savoring the moment.

“I’m back,” he whispered in her ear.

He’d deliberately kept his return a secret, wanting to surprise her.

The teachers and students around them were surprised at first, but soon broke into smiles—not mocking, but warm and genuine.

This era might have restricted people’s thinking, but it couldn’t restrain their spirits.

Hearing the laughter, Gu Qinghuan suddenly realized what she’d done in front of everyone. Worried people might say she was a bad influence, she quickly pulled away from Xu Huai’an, face flushed, and pretended to fix her hair.

One of her students picked up her dropped book and handed it over.

“Teacher, your book,” the little girl said, clearly trying to hide a smile.

Gu Qinghuan felt utterly embarrassed—she’d really lost face in front of the kids.

Forcing herself to be stern, she said, “This is my husband. Ahem, we haven’t seen each other in a long time, that’s all. Don’t you go copying me!”

The girls giggled.

Chen Fang happened to walk by and thought to herself, Young people really are passionate! Not like us old folks!

Several other teachers came over to greet them.

“Teacher Gu, is this your husband? Such a handsome man!”

“So we finally get to meet him! We always said someone as outstanding as you must have an equally outstanding husband.”

Xu Huai’an was indeed strikingly handsome, a perfect match for Gu Qinghuan. No one could find fault—except maybe that he was divorced and had two kids, but since Gu Qinghuan was happy, who could object?

After a few pleasantries, Gu Qinghuan quickly led Xu Huai’an back to her dorm.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?” she grumbled, mortified at her earlier outburst.

She opened the door and motioned for him to come in. Xu Huai’an looked around the simple room and set down his luggage.

“I wanted to surprise you!” he mumbled, looking aggrieved.

Gu Qinghuan couldn’t resist that look—she leaned in and gave him a kiss.

Xu Huai’an, unable to resist, took the initiative, and they shared a long, passionate French kiss. If it weren’t for the fear of the children coming back, he would have gone even further right then and there.

After nearly a year apart, he’d missed her so much it hurt.

They clung to each other, reluctant to let go.

“How long can you stay this time?” Gu Qinghuan asked, blushing and heart pounding just from looking at him.

No wonder women always say you should marry a handsome man—it’s good for the heart and the body.

“About a month,” Xu Huai’an replied, sneaking another kiss.

In other words, he’d stay through the New Year, then leave again after the holiday."