Chapter 8: Coaxing

Lin Zhao smiled and asked, “Hungry?”

“Starving!” Gu Ercai shouted back, loud and clear.

“If you’re hungry, we’ll boil dumplings—wait a few minutes.” The stove burned, water just waiting to boil before the dumplings could go in.

“Mama, how long is a few minutes?” Gu Ercai leaned his arm on the doorframe, grinning.

Lin Zhao’s head ached—little kids who hadn’t started school asked too many questions.

“Can you count?”

“Yes!” Gu Ercai beamed with pride. “I can count to a hundred!”

“My big brother can too.”

Mentioning his big brother made Gu Dacai even prouder.

“That’s impressive,” Lin Zhao said, still busy with her hands, and added, “Who taught you?”

“My little uncle,” Gu Ercai said.

Gu Ercai’s little uncle was Gu Qingzhou, in junior high.

Gu Qingzhou was a quiet, steady boy—respectful to elders, kind to his nieces and nephews, and completely different in character from Gu Xing’er.

Lin Zhao caught sight of Tiechui washing the Long Fengtai’s hands alongside Gu Dacai, and smiled: “Tiechui, stay and eat with us.”

Kids didn’t know politeness; seeing Aunt San’s gentle smile, Tiechui happily agreed.

“I’ll go tell my mom.”

He dashed out as he spoke.

Gu Ercai yelled, “Tiechui, I’m coming with you!”

Seeing him run off, Lin Zhao leaned out from the kitchen and said, “Gu Ercai, tell your grandma we won’t need her cooking for you anymore.”

“Got it!”

The two kids ran off together toward the old house.

Before they even reached the old house, Gu Ercai’s loud voice rang out first.

“Grandma, Mama’s letting Tiechui eat at our place!”

The old house had just started preparing food; Gu Mu heard Gu Ercai’s voice and rushed out.

“Your mama’s cooking?” Her voice was full of surprise.

“Mama’s making dumplings today!” Gu Ercai exclaimed, shouting loud enough to draw everyone inside.

“...Dumplings?” Tie Dan’s mouth watered with envy. “What kind?”

“Pork and scallion.” Before even tasting his mama’s dumplings, Gu Ercai decided they were the best in the world.

“Oh, and Mama said we don’t need you cooking for us anymore.”

At those words, Gu Mu remembered: when the third daughter-in-law first came, she could cook well—her dishes, even with simple ingredients, always smelled extra fragrant.

Unfortunately, soon after she got pregnant with Gu Dacai and Gu Ercai, she never stepped into the kitchen again.

“Alright, I understand,” Gu Mu replied.

She added, uneasy: “If you’re still hungry, come find me.”

Hearing this, Gu Dasa and Gu Ersa’s smiles froze on their faces.

Who ever voluntarily took on extra trouble?

Gu Ercai answered without hesitation: “Alright.”

He finished speaking, and Tiechui added, “Grandma, Aunt San said I can eat at her place too.”

Gu Dasa’s expression instantly brightened.

“Grandma, Tiechui and I are going back!” Gu Ercai called out, grabbing Tiechui’s hand and sprinting off—gone in a blink.

The other Gu children were envious to death.

Why weren’t they the same age as Gu Dacai and Gu Ercai?

As soon as Gu Ercai and Tiechui reached the door, the aroma grew even stronger.

The two greedy kids quickened their steps and rushed inside.

“Mama, are the dumplings ready?” Gu Ercai asked eagerly.

Lin Zhao noticed his movement but ignored it—she was scooping dumplings into a strainer. Five bowls sat on the stove: each five-year-old got eight dumplings, the Long Fengtai got two each to taste—too young, better stick to wheat milk powder.

“Dumplings are ready, come—”

She stopped mid-sentence, catching Gu Ercai’s hand reaching for a bowl. “Did you wash your hands?”

Gu Ercai had forgotten. Seeing his mama’s serious face, he grinned sheepishly. “Forgot. I’ll wash now.”

Lin Zhao carried the dumplings out and saw the children washing their hands obediently. “Our hands carry bacteria. Anything going into your mouth must be washed first—got it?”

“What’s bacteria?” Gu Ercai looked puzzled.

“Bacteria are tiny microbes we can’t see with our eyes. If you swallow them, worms grow in your stomach,” Lin Zhao explained gently.

Gu Ercai snapped his head up, shocked. “Worms in the stomach! Yuanbao pooped out worms because he had worms in his stomach?”

The image flashed in Lin Zhao’s mind—she wanted to clamp shut Gu Ercai’s mouth.

Just as they were about to eat, he blurted out everything.

“Mm,” she muttered vaguely, not wanting to discuss it further.

I’ll buy deworming medicine tomorrow, Lin Zhao thought.

But Gu Ercai kept talking: “Mama, do worms grow on your head too? Are they bacteria too?”

“!!”

“You have worms on your heads?” Lin Zhao’s step shifted slightly, her voice rising sharply from its usual calm tone.

That tiny step hurt Gu Dacai and Gu Ercai deeply.

Identical faces wore identical looks of hurt.

Gu Ercai accused: “Mama dislikes us.”

Dislike? No. But her skin prickled with goosebumps.

Lin Zhao changed the subject: “Eat your dumplings—they’ll get cold.”

She’d already decided: when the barber came next, she’d shave both boys bald.

Gu Dacai and Gu Ercai felt a chill on their foreheads but were too eager to eat to notice their mama had successfully diverted their attention.

“Time to eat dumplings!” Gu Ercai happily sat down.

The Long Fengtai were hungry too; they reached for the food with their hands. Tiechui wrapped his arms around the two younger ones, pushing them toward the dumplings, grunting with effort: “Hnnn…”

“Tiechui, don’t hold them back—let the third and fourth kids eat themselves,” Lin Zhao said, breaking the dumplings in their wooden bowls with chopsticks and beckoning the Long Fengtai.

Tiechui immediately let go.

The Long Fengtai wobbled toward Lin Zhao, their clean little hands reaching for the bowls, grabbing dumplings and shoving them into their mouths.

In just that short time, Gu Ercai had already eaten half a dumpling, his eyes shining like the sun.

“Delicious! So much meat! Mama, Brother, Tiechui, eat fast!”

Lin Zhao noticed how fast he ate and warned: “Don’t rush. Chew slowly, or you’ll choke. If you like them, I’ll make more in a few days.”

Gu Ercai’s mouth was too full to swallow—he mumbled: “Okay! Mama, I love dumplings!”

Lin Zhao saw the Long Fengtai’s faces smeared with food and decided she needed to make them a few cloth bibs—otherwise, laundry would drive her mad.

“Little Comrade Gu Ercai, I want to ask—anything you don’t like to eat?”

Kids loved pretending to be adults; hearing that title, Gu Ercai beamed. “Nothing! I like everything!”

Gu Dacai added: “Mama, I’m not picky either.”

Hearing their brothers speak, the third and fourth kids couldn’t hold back—they swung their wooden spoons, their pink little mouths spitting out: “Wo, puh…”

Trying to say they weren’t picky, they ended up spitting food everywhere—instantly turned into little grubby kids.

Lin Zhao didn’t mind—kids were like this.

In this era, just getting enough to eat was hard; no one had to coax children into eating. Plus, Lin Zhao cooked well—the children devoured their meals and finished quickly.

“Full? If not, there’s more,” Lin Zhao said.

Gu Dacai helped his mama clear the bowls, smiling broadly.

“Full, Mama. We’ll wash the bowls—you rest.”

Tiechui and Gu Ercai also patted their full bellies and helped gather the dishes.

“Be careful,” Lin Zhao didn’t refuse, only reminded.

Gu Ercai grinned: “Don’t worry, Mama—Brother and I can wash the bowls.”

Since they turned five, they’d washed every bowl in the house—Mama was lazy.

But…

If Mama cooked, he’d wash bowls every day. He’d do all the housework.

Gu Ercai watched his mama cleaning the Long Fengtai’s faces and hands, his lips curving higher and higher.

“Gu Ercai, why are you smiling?” Tiechui asked curiously.

Gu Ercai beamed mysteriously: “You wouldn’t understand.”

Tiechui scratched his head. Gu Ercai said nothing—he obviously didn’t understand.

Lin Zhao washed the Long Fengtai’s hands and faces, then rubbed them with snow cream. She noticed a new glow flashing on the right side of the big dial.

Task completed.

[Children enjoyed delicious dumplings, achieving dual satisfaction for body and mind. Congratulations—you’ve completed the task and earned 5 points.]

Five?

Wasn’t this a 4-point task?

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Iron Hammer’s name had been added in parentheses after the task list.

So it’s per person? You should’ve said so earlier—I could’ve called more kids.

Lin Zhao felt deep regret.

She had just wiped the snow cream on the Long Fengtai’s faces when Gu Ercai’s dark little face popped up in front of her.

“Mama~~” Gu Ercai’s voice curled and wavered like a little wave.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve never had snow cream on my face,” Gu Ercai didn’t ask to be rubbed with it—he just whined obliquely.

Gu Dacai also stared at Lin Zhao, silent, his clear black-and-white eyes brimming with anticipation.

Lin Zhao sighed, heart aching. “Go wash up.”

No sooner had the words left her mouth than she noticed the task bar beside the prize wheel had updated again.

[Summer is dry and hot—skin gets parched. Apply some moisturizer to the kids. Complete task for 5 points.]

It automatically added Iron Hammer to the task.

“Iron Hammer, go too,” Lin Zhao said.

Iron Hammer was stunned, thanked her, then was dragged off by Gu Ercai to wash his face and hands.

After quickly washing up, the children lined up in front of Lin Zhao.

“Mama, I’m ready—give me first!” Gu Ercai grinned, eyes fixed on the snow cream on the table.

Lin Zhao scooped out a small dollop and spread it evenly over Gu Ercai’s face, including his tiny hands.

“Thanks, Mama—it smells so good,” Gu Ercai sniffed his hands, shoved past the Long Fengtai, and sat beside his mother.

The Long Fengtai thought Gu Ercai was playing with them—they squeezed him from both sides with their little bottoms, giggling happily.

Now it was Gu Dacai’s turn.

Gu Dacai was thrilled and excited, his ears turning red with shyness; his eyes shone brightly at Lin Zhao, as if filled with pearls.

“Thank you, Mama,” Gu Dacai murmured, embarrassed.

As soon as he spoke, he hurried to the side.

In a corner Lin Zhao couldn’t see, he lifted his hand and softly sniffed it.

It smelled good.

Iron Hammer’s face was redder than Gu Dacai’s. After Lin Zhao finished applying the cream, the children walked off in clumsy unison.

At the same moment:

[...Congratulations, you’ve completed the task. Earned 5 points.]

Twelve points total now.

Lin Zhao didn’t spin right away—prize draws needed ceremony. She’d do it before bed.

Just then, Gu Xing’er carried two bundles of firewood in, smelled the fragrance filling the yard, and felt her heart sink into a jar of pickled cabbage—her gaze toward Lin Zhao was filled with disgust and envy.

She hadn’t eaten since yesterday; her stomach was empty, her limbs weak. She threw down the firewood with a scowl and ran out.

Gu Ercai sneered. “Little aunt has no sense of order—doesn’t even stack the wood neatly.”

He walked over and dragged the firewood toward the corner.

Gu Dacai and Iron Hammer helped him.

The Long Fengtai tried to join in, but Lin Zhao quickly scooped them both into her arms and laughed. “You two stay out of the way—you’ll just make a mess.”

Gu Ercai had a bit of OCD—he arranged each stick of firewood one by one, perfectly aligned. If any were too long, he’d snap them firmly before placing them.

In 1966, there were no entertainment options during the day—or at night.

Lin Zhao’s family, like all the villagers, went to bed early.

Just before entering the house, she suddenly said, “San Zai and Si Zai sleep with me tonight.”

San Zai and Si Zai were clinging to Lin Zhao’s legs. Hearing their mother call them, they lifted their soft, pale little faces, puzzled expressions on them.

Lin Zhao’s heart fluttered at their cuteness. She stroked her daughter’s cheek, speaking softly: “Si Zai and your brother will sleep with Mama tonight—want to?”

“Want. Sleep,” Si Zai murmured in her baby voice.

San Zai nodded.

Gu Ercai was intensely envious.

“Mama, did I ever sleep with you when I was little?” Gu Ercai asked hopefully.

Lin Zhao’s heart clenched—because... in her memory, she didn’t think she had.

Back then, her heart felt like it was weighed down by stones; she had no energy for anything, and a noisy, demanding baby? She certainly didn’t want to care for one.

Seeing his mother silent, Gu Ercai grinned. “Of course you did! Nai Nai said newborn babies can’t be separated from their mothers. Me and my brother must’ve slept in the same room as you—you must’ve sung us to sleep. That’s definitely how it was.”

Gu Dacai imagined his mother singing them to sleep, his eyes shining like falling stars.

Was that true?

Lin Zhao felt guilt and shame, her gaze darting away. “You’re big kids now... but Mama can still sing you to sleep...”

Before she finished, the ever-opportunistic Gu Ercai looked at her and said, “Mama, I want to sleep with you tonight.”

Gu Dacai wanted to too—but he didn’t speak, watching his mother with nervous anticipation.

“Fine,” Lin Zhao agreed. “Since you both washed up—you’re clean little boys now.”

At this, Gu Dacai’s eyes lit up, as if stars had fallen into them.

He was so happy.

Gu Ercai chuckled, grabbed his brother’s hand, and pulled him toward the house. “Mama, we’re going to get pillows!”

Inside the room, Gu Ercai’s smile hadn’t faded. He turned to Gu Dacai. “Brother, Mama’s been so nice today. I love Mama—what about you?”

Gu Dacai’s dark, fan-like lashes fluttered slightly, his eyes full of shyness. He bit his lip, then after a long pause, whispered: “I love her too.”

“Hehe, I knew you did!”

Hearing his brother’s laugh, Gu Dacai’s already warm ears turned even redder.

The Fengshou Team had no electricity. Every household used kerosene lamps—candles were too expensive, no one bought them. The dim light inside glowed warmly on their skin.

Lin Zhao was laying out the bed.

The mattress was stiff—the outer cover needed washing and sunning, the cotton stuffing needed replacing, or winter would be unbearable. But it was still summer now, so there was time to prepare. By then, the new house should be built, with two heated brick beds, the room tidied up, new clothes added—this life would finally begin to improve.