Chapter 81

The car pulled up beside Zhou Andong, the window rolled down, and a man with a center-parted haircut and sunglasses leaned out, smiling: “Dongzi, long time no see—how you doing these days?”

Zhou Andong sighed: “Just getting by—enough to eat and drink, no hunger. Not like you—you’re driving a big BMW now.”

Zhang Sihé got out, took off his glasses: “Dongzi, you can’t keep living like this. Why not come south with me? Work under me, manage people—I’ll pay you four grand a month. Better than slugging away at that crappy distillery?”

Zhou Andong laughed: “I’m just too lazy and laid-back. I’ll stick with the distillery—it’s free.”

“You’re always so careless. What can I even say to you?” Zhang Sihé shook his head, looking disgusted, then turned and tapped the window: “Tian Tian, get out—I’ll introduce you to someone.”

A fashionably dressed woman reluctantly stepped out—nothing ugly, but not pretty either, just an ordinary woman, though perfectly matched to Zhang Sihé.

“This is my childhood buddy, Zhou Andong—call him Dongzi.”

“Hi, Dongzi!” The woman nodded blankly, speaking decent Mandarin.

Zhou Andong chuckled.

Zhang Sihé put an arm around her shoulder: “My girlfriend, Tian Tian!”

Zhou Andong chuckled again.

This made the woman frown in annoyance: “It’s too cold—I’m getting back in the car.” She got in and slammed the door.

“Southern girl—can’t handle our northern winter. Don’t mind her.”

Zhang Sihé pulled out a business card from his pocket and handed it to Zhou Andong, then patted his shoulder: “My offer’s always open—whenever you decide to get out, just come find me.” He got in the car.

Tian Tian looked out the window at Zhou Andong and sneered: “What friend or brother? Some country bumpkin. Don’t introduce me to people like him again.”

Zhang Sihé lit a cigarette from the glove compartment and started the car: “When we were kids, he looked down on me. Now that I’ve returned in glory, I’ve got to make sure he knows—I, Zhang Sihé, am a thousand, ten thousand times better than Zhou Andong. Now and forever, I’ll crush him under my feet.”

He sneered: “College graduate? Pfft.”

Tian Tian glanced at Zhang Sihé: “If you hate him so much, why even want to bring him over?”

Zhang Sihé said: “Isn’t it satisfying to make someone who once looked down on you into your dog?”

Tian Tian laughed: “Don’t forget—everything you have came from me.”

Zhang Sihé grabbed her hand, gazing at her with deep affection: “I’m sticking to you for life—you can’t run away.”

“Used to follow us around as a kid, calling everyone ‘Dong Ge, Dong Ge,’ now he calls him ‘Dongzi’ and even dares to call you ‘bro’—typical little man with sudden luck.”

Gao Zhen spat toward the retreating BMW’s rear: “Pfft. A kept man, and he’s got the nerve to come back showing off.”

Zhou Andong said: “When we were kids, this guy was always scum—that’s why I kept telling you not to hang out with him.”

At that moment, drumbeats and trumpet blasts came from the village direction; Zhou Anbei’s eyes lit up: “The village’s yangge troupe’s here!”

Zhou Andong said: “Go home and take Lao Si to watch the yangge—keep her from pestering me to take her to the city.”

“Alright!” Zhou Anbei, only sixteen, still childish, couldn’t wait—he bolted home at full speed.

Gao Zhen asked: “Where you going?”

Zhou Andong headed toward the old man’s place: “To see Grandpa.”

Gao Zhen said: “I’m coming with you.”

Zhou Banghua sat on the kang, rolling a cigarette; the old woman was digging sour cabbage from the crock in the outer room.

“Grandpa, Grandma—I’m here!” Zhou Andong called out as he entered the yard.

The old woman, Zheng Guixiang, lifted the cotton door curtain and beamed: “My eldest grandson’s here!”

Zhou Andong walked in: “Grandma, Mom says you should come over for the New Year.”

“We’re going nowhere!” the old woman said. “You brought us so much meat—just cook something at home.”

“Happy New Year, Grandpa, Grandma!” Gao Zhen had grown up with Zhou Andong and always called them Grandpa and Grandma.

“Oh, Da Zhen’s back! You’ve grown taller again!” the old woman said warmly. “Come in, come in!”

Zhou Andong entered the room; Gao Zhen followed: “Grandpa, Happy New Year.”

The old man chuckled: “Happy New Year.”

Gao Zhen grabbed an apple from the kang and took a big bite: “Sweet!”

The old woman said: “That’s from your aunt’s own fruit tree—want more? Take some when you leave.”

Zhou Andong enticed: “Grandpa, come to my place for the New Year—I’ve got some great liquor. You’ll regret it if you don’t come.”

The old man didn’t want to go, but hearing his grandson mention good liquor, he couldn’t sit still: “Fine—I’ve got my eldest grandson asking me personally—I’ve got to go.”

Zhou Andong smiled. This old man had been a legend in his youth—worked as a guard for caravans, served as a household protector, later joined the revolutionary forces, marched the Long March, fought the Japanese, and served as a bodyguard for top leaders. He turned down many chances to become an official.

After the War of Resistance, he told his leader the fighting was over and it was time to go home—and returned to farm.

Sometimes Zhou Andong wondered: why refuse an official post? If he’d taken one, he’d be a second- or even third-generation elite—driving fast cars, drinking heavily, hanging out in bars, dating a few sweet girls, chatting about life, discussing human anatomy—no worries at all. How nice.

Zhou Andong said: “I’m heading out—you two come later.”

“Go ahead!” the old woman waved him off.

The two stepped out; Gao Zhen asked: “When’s dinner at your place?”

Zhou Andong said: “Not before two in the afternoon.”

Gao Zhen nodded: “I’ll gather a few guys to come over and play cards.”

“Alright!” Zhou Andong got home and got busy—cleaning, cooking, preparing dishes—and by one, everything was ready.

The whole family sat around the table, piled high with over a dozen dishes—all meat.

Yuan Liying suddenly burst into tears. Zhou Xiao sighed: “Why are you crying on New Year’s?”

Yuan Liying wiped her eyes: “After all these years, this year’s New Year meal is the most lavish.”

The old woman sighed: “Liying, you’ve carried so much—big and small—through all these years.”

“This is nothing. Our lives will only get better from now on.” Zhou Andong smiled as he poured wine for the old man and woman. “Come on—let’s all raise a glass.”

The old man lifted his cup, sniffed it: “Today, thanks to my eldest grandson, I’ll finally taste what Maotai’s like.”

The little girl raised her nearly empty Coke and shouted: “Ganbei!”

“Eating this early?” Zhou Anbin suddenly pushed open the door, holding a large basin. “Grandpa and Grandma are here too?”