Chapter 22: Keep Grinding

Gu Chenghuai didn’t rush back to the dormitory; he went to the Family Affairs Committee to find the Women’s Director.

The Women’s Director was Qian Guiying, over fifty, a true iron woman, more capable than most men.

Qian Guiying held another special status—she was the wife of the highest-ranking commander in the military district.

This wasn’t surprising; not just anyone could serve as the Women’s Director of a military district.

Families who came to accompany their soldiers were at least the wives of company-grade officers; these women varied in education, personality, and origin, hailing from all corners of the land—only someone with real skill could manage them.

Qian Guiying was surprised by Gu Chenghuai’s visit.

She had only ever seen him at home; this was her workplace, and those who came here were always due to courtyard disputes—why was he here?

Soldiers valued speed and decisiveness; after a brief polite greeting, Gu Chenghuai mentioned what he’d just heard.

The smile vanished instantly from Qian Guiying’s face.

Is that so?

“I’ve heard about this,” she said sternly. “We’ll investigate. If the findings confirm what you’ve said, I’ll handle it according to regulations.”

“Thank you for your trouble,” Gu Chenghuai said.

Qian Guiying had often heard her husband speak of the young man’s excellence; originally, she’d pictured him as a sharp blade—now, he appeared more three-dimensional, vivid.

He wasn’t just the military district’s sharp blade—he was also a husband to a woman, a father to several children.

“Don’t thank me—it’s my negligence that made you come here,” Qian Guiying said, her voice filled with regret.

“You’re being too hard on yourself,” Gu Chenghuai said.

Some people in the family compound were notoriously difficult—even though he didn’t live there, he’d heard whispers; they were harder to manage than his own soldiers.

Qian Guiying suddenly thought of something and asked: “Are you planning to bring your wife and children to join you?”

“It depends on my wife’s wishes,” Gu Chenghuai said.

His tone and expression were unchanged from usual, but Qian Guiying still heard the indulgence in his words.

“Talk it over with your wife. Living apart for long isn’t what marriage should be. If you have plans, you should apply for housing in advance.”

Gu Chenghuai nodded. “Mm.”

Lin Zhao probably had no intention of joining him yet—he’d go home and wear her down a bit more.

He was a man with a wife—he didn’t want to sleep in a cold, empty dorm either.

These thoughts remained unknown to all, hidden beneath his cold yet undeniably handsome face.

Lin Zhao walked out of the post office with her two children.

The second child suddenly slapped his forehead and groaned: “Oh no! I forgot to ask Dad for the bicycle ticket!!”

“No rush—we’ll ask next time,” Lin Zhao said. She knew how hard bicycle tickets were to get; one of her classmates’ families had waited three years just to get one and still hadn’t succeeded—she didn’t even know if they’d gotten it yet.

“Alright,” the second child still felt it was a pity.

He was an optimistic child, but barely a minute passed before he forgot the whole thing.

After walking a while, the first child asked: “Mama, where are we going now?”

“First to the county government building—I need to ask your father’s comrade about something,” Lin Zhao replied with a smile. “We’ll watch the movie a little later, okay?”

“Okay! Mama’s matters come first!” the first child said.

The second child thought of his father’s words and turned to Lin Zhao, his clear eyes shining with eager hope: “Mama, are you going to ask about a job?”

“Yes,” Lin Zhao felt a sweet warmth inside. “Your father helped arrange it.”

God knows she’d written that application in a fit of temper, without any real hope—she knew better than anyone how hard it was to find work.

Especially since she wanted something respectable and easy. She didn’t want factory work—she’d heard it was noisy, scorching hot in summer like a steamer, stifling in winter—she couldn’t endure that suffering.

She never expected her husband would get her such a good job as a salesclerk—no wonder he was her man; he truly had ability!

She hadn’t dared mention it over the phone—she’d write it all in a letter when she got home and praise him!

“Mama’s going to be a salesclerk?!!” the first child asked excitedly.

Every child from the countryside knew what it meant to become a worker.

Lin Zhao was excited too, trying hard to stay calm, but her lips kept curving upward. “It’s not confirmed yet—but it’s almost certain.”

A salesclerk’s job—she’d never even dared dream of it before!

The first child didn’t understand the second half of her sentence, but he understood the first.

It meant she couldn’t promise it outright.

“Mama will definitely become a salesclerk!” he declared seriously.

The second child nodded vigorously. “Grandma says Dad is an outstanding soldier, a brave warrior who never lies—Dad said it, so it’s true!”

Lin Zhao believed it too.

She was just dazed.

Wasn’t the first reaction to a dream coming true always daze?

“Thanks for your good wishes.”

The three of them walked briskly and soon arrived at the county government building.

It was called a building, but it was only a three-story red-brick structure.

In the future, it wouldn’t stand out—but now? It was unmistakably impressive.

Lin Zhao told the guard whom she wanted to see; the guard went to call for him.

Hearing someone was looking for him, Yang Jun immediately guessed who it was and came downstairs without delay.

Seeing Lin Zhao and the two children, he paused.

Chenghuai’s sons are already this big?

“Are you Director Yang? I’m Lin Zhao, Gu Chenghuai’s wife,” Lin Zhao said, stepping forward.

The two children bowed politely: “Uncle Yang.”

They both knew he was their father’s comrade—in children’s minds, comrades meant close brothers, like them and Tiechui.

“I know you—First Child and Second Child.”

The second child’s eyes widened, his mouth splitting into a grin: “Did Dad talk about me?”

“Yes. Your father said he had a clever second son and a calm, sensible first son, even at such a young age.”

One sentence made both children beam with joy.

Yang Jun led them to his office.

He poured tea, then took out some candies and handed them to the children. “Here, have some candy.”

The two boys didn’t take them at first—they looked to Lin Zhao. Only after she nodded did they accept the candies and thank him: “Thank you, Uncle Yang.”

Yang Jun was married too, but had no children yet—he was at the stage where he envied other people’s kids. Seeing how well-behaved and bright the two boys were, he felt even more fondness for them.

“So well-mannered,” he said.

He hoped his own child would be like them one day.

“Sister-in-law, did Chenghuai tell you about the supply and marketing cooperative?” Yang Jun looked at Lin Zhao.

“He did. Thank you for your trouble,” Lin Zhao said gratefully.

“Don’t mention it—we’ve been close for years. I just happened to have an opening, otherwise I couldn’t have promised. Besides, I didn’t lose out—I actually gained a hundred yuan.” To ease any worry she might think he’d asked for extra money, Yang Jun joked.

He’d given the extra money to his elder brother-in-law, telling him to look after his comrade’s wife.

“It’s only right—jobs are rare, you shouldn’t have to work for free,” Lin Zhao said sincerely.

Yang Jun could clearly see her sincerity and thought his comrade had excellent taste.

No wonder the military leadership had introduced her—a dancer from the cultural troupe—he’d turned down others, yet he’d chosen this one. She suited him perfectly, complemented him well—they’d surely live in harmony.

“Sister-in-law, the job is nearly settled. Tomorrow morning, I’ll wait for you at the entrance of the supply and marketing cooperative. Bring your brigade’s recommendation letter. After the exam…” He noticed her tension and added gently: “The exam is just a formality—you’re a high school graduate, no need to worry. Once you finish the process, I’ll take you to transfer your grain ration. Then it’s official.”

Lin Zhao’s smile deepened at his assurance.

“Thank you.”

Yang Jun remembered another thing his comrade had asked him to mention. “Oh, I got the brick and tile vouchers too. Transporting so many bricks would be hard for you—I asked a friend in the transport team to help deliver them.”

With this connection, Lin Zhao wouldn’t be foolish enough to refuse.

“I was just worrying about how to move them—thank you so much! When your comrade comes back, we’ll treat you and that transport team comrade to dinner.”

Yang Jun didn’t refuse. “Alright.”

After finishing their business, he escorted Lin Zhao and the children downstairs.

Once they left the county government building, Lin Zhao could no longer hold back her excitement. “First Child, Second Child, Mama’s about to have a job—a salesclerk at the supply and marketing cooperative!”

“When I was in school, I envied those salesclerks standing behind the counter—I thought it was the best job in the world. How wonderful—I actually have one now!”

The two boys were delighted for their mother.

“If I start working, you two will have to eat at the old house during lunch—okay?” Lin Zhao asked.

The boys had only recently grown close to their mother and were still clingy—they didn’t want to, but seeing her smile, they couldn’t say no.

The first child spoke up first: “It’s fine.”

The second child nodded after hearing his brother. “If Brother can, I can too.”

He added his demand: “Mama, you have to prepare things for me and Brother like you do for Third Child and Fourth Child.”

“Of course,” Lin Zhao said softly. “Only lunch at the old house—afternoon, you’ll still eat at home.”

“And on days off, I can take you both into town,” she added, promising more.

The boys, soothed by their mother’s words, felt it was fine that she was working—they’d see her every night anyway.

“Great! Mama, shall we go watch the movie now?” the second child asked.

“Yes.”

The three of them headed to the cinema again.

Lin Zhao had been to the movies with Gu Chenghuai and was fairly familiar with the county’s cinema.

The ticket window was set into the wall facing the street, over a meter off the ground, requiring three steps to reach it.

The window was square, two feet wide on each side, with double doors fitted with several steel bars on the outside.

The cinema sold advance tickets, usually starting at 14:00 each day; yet barely past 13:00, a long queue had already formed before the window.

“So many people,” Gu Ercai said.

Gu Dacai frowned in concern: “Mama, will we get tickets?”

“Let’s go see first.” With so many people around, Lin Zhao feared the boys might be snatched away, so she never let go of their hands.

She walked straight to the ticket counter and looked up—she saw a familiar face.

The ticket seller spotted her too, her expression brightening with surprise; she leaned out and smiled: “Zhaozhao?! Long time no see! You came to watch a movie?”

“Yes, I wanted to take my sons to see one. I wasn’t sure if tickets would still be available—it’s so crowded.”

With this scorching heat, she’d assumed few would come, but she’d underestimated everyone’s enthusiasm for films.

The ticket seller winked at Lin Zhao; as she turned her head, the small braid resting on her collarbone swayed slightly.

“You’ll definitely get tickets.”

That meant she’d save some for her.

Lin Zhao smiled. “Thanks for the good luck.”

Seeing how blazing hot it was outside, the ticket seller said: “Zhaozhao, find some shade first. Don’t let the kids get heatstroke.”

“Alright.”

Seeing she was about to get busy, Lin Zhao led her two sons away from the ticket counter.

“Mama, who was that?” Gu Ercai was curious about everything and asked every question that came to mind.

“She’s my junior high classmate,” Lin Zhao replied.

Back when she was in school, she’d been a top student, sweet-natured, and beautiful—popular with everyone, especially the girls in her class.

Even though they hadn’t seen each other in years, she wouldn’t refuse to save a few tickets.

“Uncle Xiao is in junior high too,” Gu Dacai said.

“Right. After junior high comes high school,” Lin Zhao imparted useless knowledge to her sons.

Gu Dacai immediately declared: “I’m going to junior high, then high school.”

Lin Zhao said: “Above high school is university.”

The book said the college entrance exam would be restored; by the time Gu Dacai and Gu Ercai finished high school, the exam should be back—perfect timing.

“If I get into university, will you be happy, Mama?” Gu Dacai asked.

“Of course I will!” Lin Zhao replied instinctively, then quickly added, fearing she’d pressure her eldest: “As long as you’re a well-behaved, law-abiding boy, even if you don’t get into university, I’ll still be proud of you and happy for you.”

Gu Dacai nodded obediently—but he was still determined to get into university.

Gu Ercai wasn’t interested. Seeing his mother pass several shady spots without stopping, he asked: “Mama, where are we going? Aren’t we buying tickets?!”

“That auntie’s saving tickets for me. I’m going to buy her an ice pop.”

Ice pop!!!

Gu Ercai’s eyes lit up instantly; he whined: “Mama, my brother and I want one too!”

“Buy,” Lin Zhao agreed at once. As a little fortune-holder, she could easily meet this demand.

“Mama’s the best~” Gu Ercai’s voice softened; a loved child’s eyes sparkled with happiness.

Lin Zhao estimated the time and bought four ice pops: one each for Gu Dacai and Gu Ercai, one for herself, and one to save for Guo Meizhu.

“Mama, it’s steaming,” Gu Dacai said—he’d never seen an ice pop before, let alone eaten one.

“Eat quickly—it’s hot, it’ll melt soon.” Lin Zhao took the first bite herself; a cool rush flooded her body, washing away the stifling heat.

Gu Ercai gasped as the cold hit him: “So cold! So sweet! Mama, ice pops are delicious!”

“Yes, best eaten in summer.” Lin Zhao’s very first ice pop had been bought for her by her uncle.

She bit into hers, thinking.

Once her job was settled, she’d visit her uncle’s home.

Worried the ice pops might melt, Lin Zhao quickened her pace toward the cinema ticket counter.

In just that short time, the queue had vanished.

The ticket seller, Guo Meizhu, stepped out after finishing her work.

Lin Zhao handed her the ice pop and smiled: “I bought this for you.”

“Thank you,” Guo Meizhu said, smiling as she pulled out two tickets from her pocket. “Here’s your ticket—one for you, one for the two kids to share.”

Usually, children Gu Dacai and Gu Ercai’s age didn’t need tickets—they could sit with their mother—but seeing Lin Zhao with two kids, Guo Meizhu figured three people in one seat would be too cramped, so she’d saved two.

“You thought of everything. Thank you,” Lin Zhao said, handing over the money.

Guo Meizhu didn’t like refusing favors; she accepted the money cheerfully and added: “I got a free ice pop—next time I’ll treat you.”

“No need,” Lin Zhao laughed. “If not for you, I’d have broken my promise to the boys. You helped me—I should be treating you to a meal.”