Chapter 258

In the twelfth lunar month of the sixth year, the bitter wind remained biting, but the air seemed to faintly carry a hint of unusual restlessness.

It is the aura of the "year"; even in such difficult times, it stubbornly sprouts in people's hearts, bringing with it the humble hope of seeing out the old and welcoming the new, even if only a slightly better meal.

In Xi Kua Yuan, after much deliberation, Li Ping'an decided not to beat around the bush any longer. After dinner that day, he called out to his sister Li Pingle, who was about to tidy the stove.

"Ping Le," Li Ping'an said in a calm tone, yet with the gravity of the head of the household, "You're at an age where you should consider your personal matters. Last time, things didn't work out with Company Commander Zhao, and I and your sister-in-law have been keeping this in mind."

Upon hearing this, Li Pingle's cheeks flushed slightly, she lowered her head, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her clothes, and she remained silent.

Lin Xueqing gently interjected from the side: 'These past days, your brother has been observing carefully at the factory. He feels there are two decent young men in the Security Section. One is called Tie Zhu, straightforward and sturdy, a solid person. The other is called Chen Jianghe, thoughtful, steady in his actions, and resourceful.' She did not embellish much, merely describing their traits objectively.

Li Ping'an looked at his sister and directly stated his plan: 'Just listening to us isn't enough; you ultimately need to see for yourself. The New Year is approaching, and the factory will soon be on holiday. I was thinking of finding a pretext to invite them separately to our home for a simple meal. You'll be there as well, so you can naturally meet them, chat, and see how you feel. What do you think?'

This arrangement left Li Pingle somewhat caught off guard; her face flushed even more and her heart raced unexpectedly. Knowing she was no longer young, and that her older brother and sister-in-law meant well, this 'at-home matchmaking' approach, while embarrassing, also avoided outsiders' eyes, making it more proper. She remained silent for a moment before replying in a mosquito-like whisper: '... I'll follow Brother's arrangement.'

And so the matter was settled.

The first person Li Ping'an 'invited' was Zhao Tie Zhu. Li Ping'an didn't beat around the bush; after work he directly said to him, 'Tie Zhu, are you free tomorrow evening? Come to my place for a simple meal.' Zhao Tie Zhu was taken aback, then his dark face showed a flattered expression; he rubbed his hands and, somewhat nervously, replied, 'Section... Section Chief, how could I possibly...'

'It's nothing, just a casual meal, don't be nervous.' Li Ping'an patted his shoulder.

The next evening, Zhao Tie Zhu deliberately changed into a washed-out but still fairly clean old military uniform, and in his hand he carried a small half-bag of dried sweet potatoes he had brought from his hometown, a cherished gift, as a token for visiting.

Upon entering Xi Kua Yuan, he was noticeably ill at ease, not knowing where to put his hands or feet.

At the dinner table, the atmosphere was initially a bit dull. Li Ping'an and Lin Xueqing tried to bring up casual topics, but Zhao Tie Zhu answered in a stiff, one-question-one-answer manner, not daring to glance more than once at Li Pingle sitting opposite.

Li Pingle kept her head down, eating silently; occasionally, at Lin Xueqing's cue, she would refill the guest's tea, her movements light yet restrained.

Only when Li Ping'an asked about some amusing anecdotes from his military service did Zhao Tie Zhu speak a bit more; although his narration was plain and straightforward, the simplicity and discipline characteristic of a soldier still showed through.

He ate quickly but neatly, picking up any rice grains that fell on the table. Seeing the little one Li Yaozong babbling, his tense face would also break into a somewhat unnatural yet rather honest smile.

The meal wasn't lively, but it wasn't awkward either. After Zhao Tie Zhu left, Li Ping'an asked Li Pingle, 'What do you think of this person?'

Li Pingle thought for a moment and said softly, 'He's... solid.' She didn't dislike him, but she didn't feel any particular spark either.

Two days later, Li Ping'an again used the same pretext to invite Chen Jianghe.

Chen Jianghe's arrival presented a different scene. He, too, was neat and tidy, wearing semi-old work clothes, but he appeared more composed overall.

He brought a small package of fruit candies wrapped in oiled paper, bought from the supply and marketing co-op, saying they were for the children.

At the dinner table, Chen Jianghe was clearly more adept at conversation. He could follow Li Ping'an's remarks about factory work, chat a few lines with Lin Xue about the weather and the children, and even subtly compliment Li Pingle's unfinished embroidery in her sewing basket, saying the stitches were fine.

He didn't speak much, but he always hit the point, appearing both respectful and tactful. His eating pace was moderate, and his demeanor was more refined.

Li Pingle was still shy this time, but she would occasionally lift her eyes to glance at him; when he spoke, her gaze grew more attentive.

After Chen Jianghe left, Li Ping'an again asked his sister for her opinion.

Li Pingle pondered longer this time, then said, 'He... speaks well and thinks things through.' Her tone seemed to carry a faint hint of affection.

After the two 'home banquets' concluded, Li Ping'an and Lin Xueqing had a rough idea in mind, but they left the final choice to Li Pingle herself. There was still plenty of time; they could consider it slowly, after all, marriage is a lifelong matter.

Following the successive visits of these two young cadres, the news that the Li Family in Xi Kua Yuan had 'a daughter awaiting marriage' quietly spread within the Security Department, stirring the thoughts of some unmarried young cadres—but that is another story.

Time slipped away quietly; on the twenty-third of the twelfth lunar month, the Little New Year arrived. Although supplies were unprecedentedly scarce, the New Year's advance could not be halted. Long queues formed before the ticket‑rationed supply points on the streets, every face etched with anxiety and anticipation. Even being able to buy just a little something not usually available was a good thing.

On the twenty-ninth of the twelfth lunar month, the Steel Rolling Mill finally closed for holiday. The mill area fell silent, but the bustle in the family quarters had just begun. Sweeping rooms, hanging window papercuts, washing bedding… every household exerted itself to the utmost, hoping to sweep away the old year's gloom and welcome the coming spring.

Most important of all, of course, were the dumplings for the New Year's Eve dinner.

Even in such a difficult year, eating dumplings on New Year's Eve remains an unshakable tradition for northern families, a ritual feeling etched into the bones.

Families who couldn't afford meat, or who had very few meat coupons, did their best. They used cabbage filling, radish filling, even wild vegetable filling, scrambling to add a bit of oil scraps or pork fat scraps for flavor; at the very least they mixed in some animal fat.

And flour—each household tightened their belts, setting aside that bit of fine grain scraped from between their teeth, saved especially for making dumplings for the New Year. Even if the filling contained little oil or fat, dumplings made with white flour were then a supreme delicacy, the utmost yearning of the whole year.

The Li Family in Xi Kua Yuan counted among the few households in the compound that could manage a 'fat year' this year. Li Ping'an had carefully set aside some of the wild boar and roe deer meat he brought back. Lin Xueqing had early on cured it thoroughly with coarse salt and hung it in the ventilated cellar, just waiting for the New Year.

On New Year's Eve, early in the morning, Li Ping'an's household and the other families in the compound began their busy work. Li Ping'an was in charge of mincing the filling; his strong, capable arms wielded the cleaver, chopping the thawed wild boar meat and rehydrated dried vegetables into fine bits, adding precious scallion and ginger and the limited seasonings; a rich meat aroma immediately filled the air, a luxury in today's Siheyuan.

Lin Xueqing and Li Pingle together kneaded the dough and rolled out the wrappers. The snow‑white flour in their hands seemed to come alive, turning into round, even dumpling skins. The little fellow Li Yaozong also joined in the fun nearby, his small hands dusted with flour, babbling, adding a touch of childlike charm to the bustle.

As evening fell, lights flickered on in households one after another; although power was scarce and the glow dim, they still strove to dispel the winter night's chill and desolation. Smoke rose from every chimney, and the air filled with the varied aromas of dumpling fillings—mostly light, yet all bearing the same hope.

'Pop‑pop‑bang…' the occasional, reluctant firecracker sounds rang outside the compound, adding to the festive atmosphere.

In Xi Kua Yuan, the steaming hot dumplings finally came out of the pot. The plump, ingot‑shaped dumplings in the plate exhaled tempting steam; the unique aroma of wild boar meat mixed with mountain delicacies filled the whole room. The family gathered around the table; besides the dumplings there was a small dish of Laba garlic and a bowl of cabbage‑tofu soup.

Li Ping'an picked up a dumpling, blew on it to cool it, and placed it in his mouth. The wrapper was chewy, the filling fresh and substantial; the long‑missed, ample meat sensation combined with the clean fragrance of wild bracken exploded on his tongue, bringing an unparalleled sense of satisfaction.

He gazed at his wife's gentle smile, his sister's slightly bashful yet relaxed expression, and his son happily eating; his heart was filled with peace.

'Brother, these dumplings are truly fragrant,' Li Pingle said softly, her face flushed with satisfaction.

'Mm, if it's fragrant, eat more,' Li Ping'an said, and gave her another dumpling.

Outside the window, the bitter wind still blew; perhaps faintly drifting over were neighbors' mild complaints about insufficient fat in the dumpling filling, or children's cheers at finally getting to eat white‑flour dumplings.

But in this little Xi Kua Yuan, warmth, steadiness, and a faint hope for the future were like that dim yet resolute lamp, illuminating the New Year's Eve of these hard years.