Chapter 63

Li Xuewu entered the warehouse and saw that the area where baskets of pears had been stacked was empty; on the other side, supplies were neatly sorted and piled in heaps.

Li Xuewu closed the door and inspected: the white liquor was stored in large white plastic barrels, each holding 100 jin, exactly ten barrels.

Cabbage was stacked against the wall; radishes and potatoes were packed in burlap sacks, each weighing about 180 to 200 jin.

Frozen ribbon fish and frozen river fish were also in burlap sacks, standing upright, their mouths open.

Rice, white flour, and cornmeal were packed in white woven sacks, 150 jin per sack; soybean oil was stored in oil drums, each drum holding about 320 jin.

Furs were bundled in packs of fifty, exactly two packs; wild mushrooms, black fungus, and golden needle mushrooms were each packed in woven sacks, three sacks of fifty jin each.

Red dates, walnuts, hazelnuts, and pine nuts—all dried fruits—were each stored in separate burlap sacks, all left open.

Six dumb roe deer lay on the ground; their wounds showed they had been shot.

Li Xuewu had heard from his second uncle that if you fired at them, “Bang!” one would drop, and the rest of the herd would scatter.

But they wouldn’t run far—just a few steps, then stop, staring at you, looking adorably confused, perhaps wondering what had made that noise.

That’s why they were so dumb, unable to tell friend from foe.

Hence the name “dumb roe deer.”

These creatures existed in the capital too, but only in the mountains.

As Li Xuewu inspected, he stowed everything into his space, occasionally lifting a sack by hand to gauge weight—roughly correct. In this era, if something was labeled one jin, it was exactly one jin—not a single gram more or less.

He finished stowing everything in just over half an hour, then went to the door, pulled it open, and sat inside the warehouse, sleeping when tired, stepping out only to smoke.

He felt an hour had passed before closing the door and heading to the guardhouse to find his second uncle.

The two returned to the warehouse.

His second uncle locked the door with the padlock, returned the key to the guardhouse, and they rode their bikes home.

They got home close to six o’clock; his second aunt had already gone to bed.

His second uncle pulled a wad of hundred-yuan notes from his pocket, counted them, and handed them to Li Xuewu.

“Count them—120 yuan.”

Li Xuewu didn’t recount them—he’d seen his second uncle count—and stuffed the money into his satchel, threw on his military greatcoat, and lay down on the sofa bench to sleep.

“Why count? Twelve bills—no matter how hard you rub your fingers raw, you won’t get thirteen. I need a nap—I’m dead tired.”

His second uncle laughed and scolded: “Brat, go sleep in Xueli’s room—it’s cold out here.”

Li Xuewu pulled the military greatcoat over himself and didn’t feel cold: “Dawn’s coming soon—I won’t move. I’ll sleep here. It’s comfortable.”

His second uncle brought him a quilt, covered him, and went back to bed.

Li Xuewu woke at noon to find his second aunt and his older sister Li Juan wrapping dumplings.

Seeing Li Xuewu awake, his second aunt greeted him: “Xuewu, you’re up? Wash your face—the dumplings are almost ready. Your second uncle and Xueli will be back soon.”

Li Xuewu greeted his sister and went to the water room to wash his face.

His second uncle’s family lived in an apartment assigned by his second aunt’s mother’s workplace—each floor shared a bathroom and water room.

His eyes were bloodshot from staying up all night; the water was chilly, but he splashed it over his face vigorously and felt refreshed.

Back inside, his second aunt had finished wrapping the dumplings; Li Juan was clearing the table.

Li Juan had a straightforward personality, unlike Li Xuewen and the other brothers, who either feared or resented Li Xuewu.

His second uncle’s personality was just like Li Xuewu’s.

So Li Juan was also bold and cheerful, even teasing Li Xuewu about his scarred face making it hard to find a girlfriend.

His second aunt, hearing the joke, slapped Li Juan on the back.

“Stop it! Don’t tease your brother!”

Li Xuewu didn’t mind: “It’s fine, Second Aunt. If I can’t find a girlfriend, I’ll wait for my big brother-in-law to find me one. When you’re picking a husband for Sister, ask if he has any suitable younger sisters.”

Li Xuewu’s mention of “big brother-in-law” turned Li Juan bright red—she hadn’t even told her family about her boyfriend yet. How did this kid know?

Seeing Li Juan turn red and stay silent, Li Xuewu knew he’d hit the mark.

Noticing she hadn't told her family yet, he dropped the teasing and changed the topic to her job.

At that moment, his second uncle and Li Xueli entered. Li Xueli was only eighteen, full of energy, and chattered nonstop with Li Xuewu.

Li Xueli was close to Li Xuewu’s age and deeply admired his military experience—he wanted to enlist too, but his parents refused outright, forcing him to work a regular job.

Though he hadn’t joined, he had relatives who had, so now he bombarded Li Xuewu with questions about everything military.

Li Xuewu dared not reveal anything about army life—not just because of secrecy, but because writing it down would land him in the black room.

So to satisfy his curious cousin, he spun tales from future TV dramas.

Li Xueli was utterly dazzled, repeatedly lamenting he hadn’t held firm to his dream.

His second uncle knew Li Xuewu was lying—he’d heard the same stories from his third brother, who was also in the military. Though letters were full of family warmth, their face-to-face conversations were nothing like what Li Xuewu was saying.

Watching his foolish son get fired up by the lies, Li Gan just smiled, smoking quietly.

Only when his second aunt called them to the table for boiled dumplings did Li Xueli finally let Li Xuewu off the hook.

They ate dumplings together. After the meal, while his second aunt was busy in the kitchen and his second uncle was in the toilet, Li Xuewu pulled out forty yuan, slipped twenty to Li Juan and twenty to Li Xueli.

Li Xueli happily accepted, bluntly saying: “Thanks, Second Brother—you’re so generous! How’d you know I’m short on cash?”

Li Xuewu laughed: “Everyone’s short.”

When he offered the money to his older sister, she refused outright.

Li Juan pushed it back: “You just started working—how can I take money from my little brother?”

Li Xuewu shoved it into her pocket anyway, whispering: “Don’t always spend your boyfriend’s money. If he’s good, bring him home soon so Second Uncle and Second Aunt can meet him.”

Li Xuewu’s words made Li Juan blush again. Seeing her mother glance over, she stopped pushing back and accepted.

Li Xueli, still acting like a child, ran to the kitchen to boast to his mother. His second aunt chased after him, shaking water off her hands.

“Xuewu, why give him money? Your brother earns a salary now—do you think you’re a guest in your own family?”

Then, turning to the smug Li Xueli, she scolded: “Give it back to your brother—he just started working! What a heartless kid!”

Li Xuewu patted Li Xueli’s shoulder beside him and said to his second aunt: “Xueli’s eighteen—he needs a girlfriend. Without money, he can’t even take a girl to the movies. Don’t you want grandchildren soon?”

Seeing Li Xuewu was sincere, his second aunt stopped arguing and glared at Li Xueli.

“If only he had any sense—he just wanders around with no purpose.”

Li Xueli retorted: “Mom, you take all my salary—I can’t spend what I don’t have!”

Bai Meng Shu

His second aunt snapped: “You dare talk back? See how you’ll ever bring a girl home!”

His second uncle returned to find the house noisy. Li Xueli instantly fell silent and slipped into his room; Li Juan also went to tidy her clothes.

His second aunt told him about Li Xuewu giving money.

His second uncle glanced at Li Xuewu: “Feeling mighty now? Coming to my house acting all generous?”

Li Xuewu laughed: “What power do I have before my second uncle? My sister’s got a boyfriend—she needs cash to stand tall. Xueli’s at the age to make friends—he can’t be broke. I’m just helping out my Northeastern comrades in love.”

His second uncle, amused by Li Xuewu’s teasing, told his second aunt: “Give Juan a little more pocket money each month. Don’t give any to Xueli—he’s not short.”

Li Xueli shouted from inside: “I am short!”

His second aunt yelled toward his room: “Your dad’s outside—go tell him yourself!”

Li Xueli stayed silent in his room.

His second uncle and aunt didn’t react to Li Xuewu’s mention of Li Juan’s boyfriend—they already knew. In this era, dating was as obvious as turning on a 200-watt bulb in total darkness.

If you walked near a girl for even a short while, everyone would tell your parents.

They didn’t press it because they’d already inquired about the young man’s family and character—and were satisfied, so they let it be.

After a midday rest, everyone in the family had to go to work. Li Xuewu said he might leave late tonight and would return to Factory One-Seven to wait—he’d come again when he had time.

His second aunt offered him grain coupons; Li Xuewu refused, finally accepting only his second uncle’s letter.

This meal of dumplings might be their New Year’s Eve dinner—how could he take grain coupons? Everyone was barely scraping by.

Li Xuewu stepped outside, found a secluded spot, pulled out his bicycle, and rode into town.