Bai Fumei in the ’70s Chapter 8
Translated by Serena Love
Proofread by Soupysuspicions
Edited by Lavender and Ladyhotcomb
Chapter 8
When Zhao Lanxiang arrived in Qinghe Town to buy a pound of pork, she discovered that a new shipment of high-quality flour had just been delivered to the grain store. Town residents had been lining up since before dawn, forming a queue that resembled a long dragon. Despite having enough money, Zhao Lanxiang couldn’t get her hands on any flour before it sold out. Accustomed to buying whatever she wanted in more recent times, she found this quite frustrating.
Zhou Jiazhen asked, “If we can’t get the high-quality flour, can we consider other options?”
A round trip to the county town would cost six cents, and Zhao Lanxiang was reluctant to spend that money for nothing. Besides, she thought, it wouldn’t hurt to have Zhao Lanxiang’s meat dish again.
In the end, Zhao Lanxiang settled for a bag of all-purpose flour. The country categorized flour quality based on gluten content and fineness. The fine flour she had bought last time was top-grade, equivalent to No. 1 flour, followed by this all-purpose variety.
She handed a 30-pound food stamp to the salesperson. In addition to the money and food stamps, she discreetly slid a small envelope across the counter, containing extra money for the person managing the food station.
In the 1970s, food sales were not straightforward. The state controlled all purchases and sales. For non-agricultural households in the cities and towns, food was allocated per person, while in rural areas, it was distributed by production teams at year’s end. Before moving to the countryside, Feng Lian had been concerned that her daughter might not earn enough points for food, so she gave her own grain and oil food stamps to Zhao Lanxiang.
Typically, city residents received between 30 and 35 pounds of food monthly. However, Feng Lian’s school had a generous welfare system that provided older employees with an additional five-pound monthly food allowance.
Last month, Zhao Lanxiang had consumed food worth 20 pounds and saved 10 pounds. She had lent five pounds of her surplus grain and oil food stamps to Zhou Jiazhen.
Now, buying 30 pounds of flour in one go made Zhou Jiazhen take a deep breath.
Zhao Lanxiang was undoubtedly the most “spendthrift rich person” Zhou Jiazhen had ever encountered. She always bought food without blinking, and indulged in delicacies wherever she went. While most people prized fatty meat for its oil and flavor, Zhao Lanxiang preferred lean cuts when she bought pork. Fatty meat could be squeezed for its oil. It was delicious when cooked together and crispy when fried. But, Zhao Lanxiang bought her pork and oil separately.
However, when it was time to buy pork, the lavish “spendthrift” Zhao Lanxiang soon realized that if she continued consuming meat at her current pace, the meat tickets her parents had sent would quickly run out. Her brows visibly twisted.
In fact, it wasn’t that her parents, Zhao Yongqing and Feng Lian, hadn’t provided enough vouchers; rather, Zhao Lanxiang’s eating habits were simply out of step with the times. After coming to the countryside, she could only eat a little bit of meat to resolve her greed. Having lived through decades of change, she was now accustomed to eating meat regularly, unlike her 18-year-old self who had considered such indulgence extravagant and wasteful.
Zhou Jiazhen noticed Zhao Lanxiang heading toward the grocery store again and quickly caught up with her. “Are you buying more pork? Did you finish yesterday’s meat already?”
“It’s finished,” Zhao Lanxiang replied.
Though the cost of meat tickets pained her, her gnawing hunger couldn’t be ignored. People of this era barely ate anything. They worked hard and saved three times a day. In the past, the 18-year-old Zhao Lanxiang hadn’t seen the world. But now, Zhao Lanxiang had evolved over decades, and the frugality once ingrained in her bones had been replaced by a more modern mindset.
In the end, she decided to buy... a pound of meat, half a pound of pig intestine, and half a pound of pig feet.
Zhou Jiazhen watched as Zhao Lanxiang then headed to the supply and marketing cooperative to purchase various spices like cloves, nutmeg, star anise, and cinnamon, along with soy sauce, white wine, and vinegar. Zhao Lanxiang carefully folded her shopping list and tucked it into her pocket; she had too many items to remember and didn’t want to forget any.
In her previous life, Zhao Lanxiang had been the sort of person who wouldn’t even touch spring water. However, to please Jiang Jianjun, she had transformed into a diligent military wife, renowned for her cooking skills. Over time, her hands had become rough and gnarled, but the dishes she prepared had gained fame throughout the community. Once she heated the oil in the pan, the aroma wafting from her kitchen was enough to capture everyone’s attention.
Later, Zhao Lanxiang married He Songbai, who also came from a big foodie family. On weekends, the He family kitchen would be filled with mouthwatering aromas as she cooked up a feast for him.
She had listed more than 30 different spices, but despite searching everywhere, she could only find a few. Undeterred, Zhao Lanxiang understood that the county’s economic conditions and ingredient availability were far inferior to those in the city. She was content to find even half of what she needed.
Zhao Lanxiang returned home laden with goods, while Zhou Jiazhen also brought back two yards of cloth to make summer clothes. Although her financial situation couldn’t compare to Zhao Lanxiang’s, Zhou Jiazhen had managed to save a modest sum over her years in the countryside.
However, as she approached marriageable age, Zhou Jiazhen, who had never been bored or depressed, felt worried for the first time.
Was she really going to set down roots in this village?
She looked at Zhao Lanxiang, who returned to the brigade with her bags full, and for the first time envied her youthful vitality.
***
Zhou Jiazhen helped Zhao Lanxiang carry a bag of white flour back to the He family’s old house. Zhao Lanxiang then gave her some wild fruit that Sanya had left for her. Known as Nianzi, this purple-black fruit was sweet when ripe and grew abundantly in the mountains. When Sanya went to the mountains to gather pigweed, she would bring back a bag of these fruits. Sanya, who had no access to candy, treasured these fruits and eagerly awaited their ripening each summer.
Clearly, Zhou Jiazhen also loved this fruit. She was delighted to receive such a large batch and savored it, her fingers sticky with juice as she licked her mouth.
“You managed to find these? I went to the mountains for firewood a few days ago and couldn’t find any; they were all gone.”
Actually, Sister He and Sanya, who were used to finding pigweed on the mountain, were familiar with the mountain’s numerous treasures.
Zhao Lanxiang just smiled and poured her a glass of water.
After drinking two large bowls of water, Zhou Jiazhen burped and said, “Surprisingly, despite the He family being poor, this old house is quite sturdy. I know you may not like hearing this, but the people of the He family are really—”
She trailed off as she walked out of Zhao Lanxiang’s room, shaking her head at some sudden realization.
Later, Zhao Lanxiang was about to clean a pair of pig intestines by the well when she noticed a man watering seedlings in a field. The pea vines had climbed up the fence, partially obscuring his tall, thin frame.
When he noticed Zhao Lanxiang’s surprised gaze, he turned his head indifferently.
T/N: Nianzi fruit is similar to a wild blueberry, they are a type of myrtaceae fruit; you can read more about it HERE.
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