Chapter 14

These days, no one pays attention to superstition or the supernatural. Besides, given Liu Yinshuang’s previous words and behavior, everyone present thought the girl was somewhat odd in the head. So no one bothered about her talk of life and death or ghosts.

If there was time to worry about such things, it would be better to push forward and buy fabric earlier. Otherwise, if the fabric was sold out by the time it was their turn, that would be a regret beyond remedy.

Shen Shaoyuan glanced absentmindedly at Liu Yinshuang, who was gradually walking away, then exchanged a knowing look with Shen Mo'er, quietly asking, “Do you know that girl?”

After some thought, Shen Mo’er realized she probably did know Liu Yinshuang.

Liu Yinshuang had been one grade above the original Shen Mo’er in middle school: when Mo’er was in first year, Liu was in second. The school had few students, even fewer girls, so they were somewhat familiar with one another. Moreover, their teams—Yangliu and Songshu—were next to each other, and they often crossed paths going to and from school. So, though not close, they were acquainted.

Still, why did that girl say she was a ghost?

Shen Mo’er had no time to ponder further; if they didn’t push inside now, the fabric would be sold out!

More than half an hour later, Shen Mo’er emerged from the supply and marketing cooperative clutching ten yards of fabric she had just snatched up, while Shen Shaoyuan carried a thermos and a paper-wrapped bundle of salt. The father and daughter exchanged a glance and both smiled in satisfaction.

Their luck was indeed good—securing a ticketless thermos and fabric. This trip to the cooperative had not been in vain.

Next, they planned to visit the brick and tile factory’s storefront to inquire about prices and buy a few tiles to repair the house. That would complete today’s tasks.

Liuzhai Commune had two state-run factories: a textile mill and a kiln. The kiln had once been a private workshop before being restructured, so it was quite old. Years ago, Old Master Shen had bought the green bricks and tiles for his row of houses from this kiln.

Because of this kiln, houses built in the surrounding teams were more impressive than elsewhere. Almost every team had houses made of green bricks and tiles. Those who couldn’t afford many bricks would at least build half walls with bricks and cover the main house with tiles.

The factory’s storefront was right at the kiln’s entrance. When the sales clerk learned they only wanted a few tiles, his attitude was indifferent. Still, he answered their questions clearly: building a new house’s bricks and tiles would cost over a hundred yuan.

This was expected. Although the original Shen Mo’er and Shen Shaoyuan were introverted and gentle by nature, they had privately wondered about the value of their two brick-tiled houses. Today’s visit was essentially confirming whether prices had changed.

Shen Mo’er took the thermos and salt, while Shen Shaoyuan freed his hands to carry a stack of tiles. Father and daughter left the storefront.

Outside the kiln’s factory building stood a circle of green brick walls. By the wall stood two men: one older, dressed in a white short-sleeved shirt and deep blue cloth trousers, exuding the aura of a leader; the other younger, about twenty, holding a bucket in one hand and a brush in the other, looking dejected as he mumbled to the elder.

“Director, it’s not that I don’t want to try—I’ve been practicing calligraphy at home every day recently—but this isn’t something you can master overnight. Besides, my writing is barely passable; painting, I’m really no good. Why don’t you look around the factory for someone with talent? If no one else, maybe borrow someone from another unit for a few days?”

“Do you think I haven’t checked with other units? The textile mill’s propagandist is Xiao Guo’s sister, but their whole family was sent for re-education through labor. How could she be an exception?”

The older man sighed helplessly: “I even shamelessly asked the commune office. There’s one cadre who’s good at writing and painting, but he said the commune leadership’s tasks keep him fully occupied. He has no time to help us.”

The younger one said, “Director, it’s not that I’m not proactive; it’s just that I lack the ability. Maybe we can just slap something together?”

The elder’s eyes flashed angrily: “How can we be slapdash on something that affects the collective’s dignity? Our kiln is one of the county’s advanced units. Leaders come to inspect, brother units come to learn. If they see our propaganda work is sloppy, what will they think?”

The younger muttered, “Then why don’t you try it yourself?”

The elder nearly exploded: “I’m a brickmaker by trade! If I could write and paint, would I have had to bring you into the propaganda section?”

The younger continued mumbling, “I’m not from a propaganda background either…”

As they spoke, a voice suddenly interrupted from nearby: “Comrade, excuse me, what do you mean by writing and painting?”

The younger man turned to see two villagers, dressed in tattered clothes, carrying tiles and a thermos, clearly commune members here to purchase supplies. He frowned, thinking they were meddling and prying unnecessarily.

Few country folk could read and write, let alone write beautifully or draw. His first reaction was annoyance at their nosiness, so his tone was curt.

The older man beside him, however, was more composed. Noticing the two wore simple, rustic clothes but behaved with courtesy and dignity, he was moved and said, “Our factory has some urgent propaganda tasks requiring slogans and woodblock prints on walls and bulletin boards. We can’t find the right people. Since you asked, do you have such talents?”

Shen Shaoyuan adjusted how he held the tiles and confidently replied, “Writing slogans and painting prints is definitely no problem.”

He was not arrogant; it was simply that while he struggled in other areas, his calligraphy and painting were exceptional, praised by even the greatest scholars in Daliang.

One could say using him to write slogans and paint prints was like bringing a sledgehammer to crack a nut.

The younger man sized him up skeptically. “You really can write slogans and paint prints? You won’t just scribble nonsense, will you?”

After all, since taking over the propaganda work, he had been nothing but careless scribbling.

Previously, it was only on bulletin boards; the factory knew the propaganda section’s situation and at worst teased them. The embarrassment was contained within the factory.

But now the county demanded all factories and mines implement new propaganda tasks swiftly, emphasizing the use of conspicuous spots like exterior walls and gates—

Even if the younger man wanted to shamelessly continue embarrassing himself, the factory leadership would not tolerate it!

Still, he didn’t believe this man could really write slogans and paint prints.

The older man quickly said, “Xiao Ding, shut up.”

Then he addressed Shen Shaoyuan: “Comrade, hello. Let me introduce myself. I’m Xu Weiguo, head of propaganda at Liuzhai Commune’s kiln. This is our propagandist, Ding Lixin. Don’t mind the young man’s impetuosity.”

Xu apologized for Ding’s rudeness, then asked about Shen’s background. Though he suspected already, hearing Shen was from Yangliu Team made his eyes brighten.

If he were from another unit, they might only borrow talent temporarily. But a team member—if truly skilled—he could even recommend official hiring by the factory.

Full employment might be uncertain, but temporary work was definitely possible. Their propaganda section’s shortage would be solved.

Xu masked his thoughts and said their section truly lacked anyone capable and asked if Shen could help write some words on the wall.

Shen knew this was a test and did not refuse. Carefully, he set down the tiles and took the paint bucket and brush from Ding Lixin.

After clarifying the words to be written, he stood before the wall and looked for a moment, then dipped the brush in paint and began.

At first, Ding Lixin quietly warned Xu: if this man scribbled nonsense and messed up the wall, they would have to find a way to repaint it, which would be troublesome.

But before he finished speaking, he saw the first character already completed on the wall. He was so astonished his mouth dropped open wide enough to fit an egg!

The character was simply too beautifully written!

And fast!

Writing slogans on walls usually involved drawing faint outlines first, even for the previous propagandist Xiao Guo.

But Ding Lixin could barely manage the outlines properly.

This raggedly dressed man, with a brush on the wall, wrote as easily as with a pen on paper—no outlines needed, just brush, brush, brush, and one character was done.

Moreover, the character was exceptionally beautiful.

Ding Lixin couldn’t find words to describe it; he had never seen such exquisite writing.

In hardly any time, the slogans on the wall were finished.

“Excellent, you’re amazing, Comrade Shen Shaoyuan!” Ding Lixin’s earlier doubts turned into loud applause.

“Indeed, your skill is superb, Comrade Shen!” Xu Weiguo was equally excited. “Our section truly faces difficulties. Could you spare some time to help us? We won’t let your help go unpaid—we’ll pay you by the hour. And if you do well, I’ll try to secure you a formal job. How does that sound?”

What could be wrong with that? Shen Shaoyuan originally saw this as an opportunity and thus volunteered.

Getting hired officially would be ideal; if not, earning some labor fees was good too.

Fifteen minutes later, the father and daughter returned to their donkey cart.

Auntie Chen, who had sold her basket of melons, was already waiting on the cart. Seeing the many items Shen Mo’er and Shen Shaoyuan had, she exclaimed, “You really didn’t come back empty-handed! So many things! Oh, and a thermos and fabric too?!”

Shen Mo’er smiled, “We were lucky to find discounted flawed thermoses and fabric at the supply cooperative.”

Auntie Chen slapped her thigh, “Oh, that’s really great! I missed out. Such good stuff sells out immediately. You’ve had great luck today. It’s a big haul!”

Shen Mo’er smiled brightly, “Yes, very lucky—big haul indeed!”

This trip was truly worthwhile. Her father even found a job to do. Could this not be called a bountiful harvest?