Chapter 320: Winter Cabbage Storage

The Yan family's joke about the coal mixed with too much yellow mud that wouldn't even smoke hasn't fully cooled, and another major matter concerning the winter table was urgently added to every household's schedule in the Siheyuan—the supply of winter‑stored large cabbage has begun.

These days, the variety of vegetables in the northern winter is pitifully scarce; large cabbage is almost the only staple vegetable for every household throughout the winter. Storing cabbage is as important as stockpiling coal for winter; it determines whether, in the coming months, a family will be subsisting on husks and leaves or can enjoy hot vegetable soup.

On the supply day, early in the morning before dawn, the biting cold seemed able to freeze a person's bones. At the designated vegetable stall entrance, a winding long queue had already formed. People wrapped in thick cotton coats, hands tucked in pockets, feet shuffling, exhaled white breath in a cloud, their faces showing a mix of anticipation, anxiety and endurance.

Li Ping'an and Chen Jianghe, also wrapped in military coats, appeared in the line. The two had agreed to buy together, to look out for each other and lend a hand with carrying. They stood in the middle of the queue, watching the sea of heads ahead, their expressions still relatively calm.

"This year's line is a bit longer than last year's," Chen Jianghe said softly, exhaling white vapor.

"Hmm, there are more people. Keep an eye out later, pick the denser ones, and also select good ones for the Pingle family." Li Ping'an's gaze swept over the mountain of cabbage inside the stall, already calculating the selection criteria in his mind.

The vegetable stall is organized jointly by the neighborhood office and the supply and marketing cooperative, with several security personnel wearing red armbands maintaining order, preventing line‑cutting or stampedes.

The atmosphere was solemn and tense; no one dared to shout, let alone haggle—everything was fixed‑price, fixed‑quantity supply, with side‑food vouchers and money tickets, purchasing shares according to household size. This is the norm of a planned economy, leaving little room for free choice, but at least guaranteeing basic fairness.

The line moved forward slowly. When it finally came to Li Ping'an and his companion, the two stepped forward quickly, using their experience and keen eyes to, under the watch of the security staff, swiftly and precisely select each cabbage with a tight core, green leaves, and roots still damp with mud. They weighed them, handed over the money tickets, then carefully loaded the "spoils" onto the hand‑cart they had borrowed.

"Let's go, first pull them back to the courtyard and store them in the cellar," Li Ping'an called out, and together with Chen Jianghe, one pulling, one pushing, they dragged the heavy hand‑cart away from the stall under the envious gazes of the onlookers.

Back at the Siheyuan, the two first unloaded most of the cabbage, carefully moving it into the hidden cellar in Xi Kua Yuan, stacking it layer by layer neatly to ensure ventilation and prevent rot. The cellar, cool and dry, was an ideal place for storing cabbage. After completing this, they together hauled the portion belonging to Chen Jianghe's family to his home. The whole process was swift and coordinated.

While they were busy, other families in the Siheyuan also gradually pulled their own cabbage back.

In the Front Courtyard, Yan Bu Gui's family also bought a whole cart. Yan Bu Gui, while directing his sons to move the cabbage, held a small notebook recording weight and cost, muttering, "The price of this cabbage didn't rise, good, good," as if he'd scored a huge bargain. Their cabbage's appearance was still decent, since they hadn't queued too late.

In the Central Courtyard, the Sa Zhu Family, with Ma Dongmei leading Sha Zhu, also pulled back a cart. Sha Zhu, relying on his great strength, chose only the biggest heads, regardless of how tight the core was; to him, bigger meant better value. Ma Dongmei chided him from the side: "You should pick the denser ones! All you care about is size, the loose, hollow ones are useless!" Sha Zhu chuckled, "Big ones are satisfying to eat!"

However, the most eye‑catching was still the Jia family in the Central Courtyard.

Jia Zhangshi and her daughter‑in‑law Qin Huairu, dragging a shabby little cart piled with their household's cabbage share, trudged back dejectedly. It was obvious the cabbage was taken late, the leftovers—outer leaves old and yellow, some leaves already rotted at the edges, heads small—compared with the fresh, dense cabbage of Li Ping'an's family, a world apart.

Jia Zhangshi's face turned ashen, and she cursed without restraint: "Damned it! We were a step late; the good cabbage was snatched clean by those unscrupulous smoke‑puffing ones! They only gave us junk nobody wants! How are we supposed to eat this!"

Just as they parked the cart at the doorway and were about to unload, a neighboring resident who had also just returned from buying vegetables—perhaps irritated by Jia Zhangshi's scolding or unable to ignore the poor quality of her cabbage—offhandedly said, "Jia Zhangshi, your cabbage… you'd better eat it quickly, lest it won't keep."

The remark was meant as a friendly reminder, but to Jia Zhangshi's ears it became a huge sarcasm and provocation!

She instantly flared up like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, flinging the rotten cabbage onto the ground, hands on hips, shouting at the neighbor: "Nonsense! It's your family's cabbage that can't keep! Your whole family can't keep it! What's this? You think our cabbage is bad, a joke, right? Bullying our orphaned widows? If you have the guts, get up early and line up yourself! Stop chewing behind our backs!"

Her voice was sharp, spittle flying, berating the neighbor into a stunned silence, his face flushed with anger: "Jia Zhangshi! You… you have no sense of gratitude! I was kindly reminding you…"

"Do I need your reminder? What kind of scallion are you?" Jia Zhangshi ignored him, continuing to rant, "I think you're doing it on purpose! Because our family is easy to bully, right? Old Jia… open your eyes! Even cats and dogs dare to bully us now!"

Her outburst instantly drew everyone in the Central Courtyard who hadn't yet returned home, pointing and gossiping. Qin Huairu, caught in the middle, could neither pull nor stay still; her face flushed scarlet, she lowered her head and hurried to move the poor‑looking cabbage into the house, wishing she could crawl into a crack in the ground.

The neighbor, fuming, but unable to confront Jia Zhangshi's shrewishness, could only stomp his foot in resentment, mutter "unreasonable", and carry his own cabbage home.

Jia Zhangshi, seeing she had "repelled" the other, felt even more smug, shouting a few more veiled insults, then continued berating (or directing) Qin Huairu as she moved the substandard cabbage inside, constantly complaining about the stall's favoritism and the world's injustice.

In Xi Kua Yuan, Li Ping'an and Chen Jianghe had just finished their tasks and happened to hear the tail end of the Central Courtyard drama. Chen Jianghe shook his head: "Jia Zhangshi, really…"

Li Ping'an's face showed little expression, merely saying calmly, "The pitiful have their hateful side. They went late, it's not others' fault. Let's go, to your house, and store the vegetables properly."

To him, the Jia family's drama was just a side note in the Siheyuan's daily life, not even a proper interlude. He cared about the reserves in his own cellar sufficient for his wife and daughters to winter safely, and whether his sister's family was also properly arranged.

Every household's cabbage was stored in the cellar or piled in the corners. This winter, the Siheyuan's vitality largely depended on these pale‑green vegetables.

Yet the same cabbage, in different homes, foretells different flavors—some signifying stability and contentment, others possibly accompanied by quarrels and scheming. The winter's prelude unfolds formally amid the encirclement and myriad states of these cabbages.