Chapter 58 It’s Snowing

The commune leaders, accompanied by two team captains, went back to investigate the situation. Once they understood the details, they berated both village captains thoroughly. Naturally, Muzi Village received the harsher scolding, since they had stirred up trouble first, and every year Muzi Village managed to cause some incident that annoyed the commune leaders greatly.

Shijian stood obediently, enduring the scolding without a word of protest. After all, their village had gained the upper hand; what did a bit of scolding matter? He was willing to take it.

Once the leaders had vented their anger, they commanded, “Each of you, write a report and hand it in!” With that, they waved the pair away. Matters such as these were routine for the leaders, well-practiced and straightforward, so Shijian returned quickly.

When he got back, his expression was relaxed and content. Seeing the concerned eyes around him, he grinned, “It’s all settled.”

Writing a report? What’s the big deal?

Sun Wenming whistled, “Great job, Jian!”

Hu Qixin slapped him, “Don’t move! I’m applying medicine.”

Sun Wenming gritted his teeth, not daring to move.

Though Guyue Village had prevailed in the melee, many were still injured.

At this moment, Tang Banxia, the doctor accompanying the team, proved invaluable. She had brought a variety of medicines just in case—remedies for bruises, bleeding, muscle strains, and even ointment for frostbite.

On Guyue Village’s side, every injured person was treated. Muzi Village, however, wasn’t so fortunate. They had already been at a disadvantage, suffered more injuries, and upon returning home, their meal was nothing but watery stone porridge. Truly pitiable.

Especially since Muzi Village had previously enjoyed a reputation, thanks to their barefoot doctor, as a leader among the surrounding villages. Now, having been suppressed by Guyue Village, they felt endlessly uncomfortable.

Little did they know, this was only the beginning.

In the days that followed, the people of Guyue Village, at every mealtime, would carry their bowls and stroll around Muzi Village’s camp. Whenever they saw someone, they would smack their lips loudly, and the sound of gnawing bones grew ever more boisterous.

Moreover, during work hours, when Guyue Villagers were digging earth and encountered Muzi Villagers pushing carts, they would heap the carts so full they were nearly overflowing. Muzi Villagers responded in kind.

Thus, the two villages were locked in rivalry.

During work, their contest continued unabated. But after work, Muzi Village suffered. Eating their bland stone buns, watching the Guyue Village rascals flaunt their food, their indignation was palpable.

Yet, they could only endure.

After the previous brawl, the head captain had warned: anyone who stirs up trouble would face a pay deduction.

When money was involved, endurance became their only option.

Meanwhile, the Guyue Villagers, witnessing Muzi Village’s suppressed fury, felt delight from head to toe. Muzi Village had always acted superior—now, with such a golden opportunity, Guyue Village wouldn’t let it slip by.

As for Muzi Village refusing to let their barefoot doctor treat Guyue Villagers?

Guyue Villagers shrugged it off. Who cares? They had young Tang, the educated youth, and didn’t need Muzi Village’s old man.

Yes, now they placed great trust in young Tang. Normally, building a dam was hard labor, and everyone who participated ended up worn to the bone. But this year, thanks to Tang Banxia, the people of Guyue Village had even gained a bit of weight—something no one expected.

Indeed! While other villages ate stone-laden buns that could crack a tooth, Guyue Village, though not feasting on meat every meal, at least enjoyed meat once a day.

Tang Banxia, being a doctor, would add nourishing herbs to the meat stew, replenishing everyone’s strength. She also made sure to cook soup at every meal, which was the best for sustaining people.

If anyone was unwell, they could receive timely medical attention.

In short, this arduous dam-building task had turned into a source of happiness for them.

On the twenty-third day of dam construction, Tang Banxia woke up chilled, the bedding icy cold, no mood to linger in bed. She got up, stomped her feet, and lifted the straw curtain to look outside.

The world was silver-white: “It’s snowing.”

Wen Mubai stepped out from the adjacent room. “Banxia.”

Tang Banxia waved to him.

He walked over and handed her gloves. “Why come out without a hat?”

“I didn’t expect snow,” she replied, went back to get her own gloves, and returned his.

“Will we still work if it’s snowing?” she asked.

Wen Mubai was unsure. “I’ll ask Captain Shi in a bit.”

“We’ll work,” Hu Zhaodi emerged, breath steaming, “Even in snow, we have to work.”

Tang Banxia once again witnessed the harshness of the era.

Those river embankments and dams of later years had all been built bit by bit like this, entirely by manual labor.

No wonder people said this was the hardest, yet happiest, generation.

After indulging in these thoughts for a moment, she gathered herself and prepared breakfast.

With snow falling, soup was a necessity.

Spicy hot soup was perfect.

She had brought mushrooms, wood ear, peppers, and other ingredients from the village; after more than twenty days, little was left. So she took out all that remained, sliced some meat from the silly boar, and prepared a spicy soup that would warm everyone from within.

With two flatbreads soaked in the soup, after eating, everyone was invigorated.

Once fed and warmed, the Guyue Village people donned their hats, bundled up, and, bracing against wind and snow, marched to their battleground.

Their figures quickly disappeared from view.

Tang Banxia felt a rush of blood, lingered in her emotions for a moment, then wiped her face, “Zhaodi, grab a few cabbages—let’s make some ginger soup.”

The wind and snow made the work much harder.

Everyone hunched their shoulders, trembling as they shoveled earth in the snow. Each shovelful contained half earth, half snow, soon turning to slush.

Even so, they worked mechanically, without a word of complaint.

After an hour, all their cotton shoes were soaked, the cold unbearable.

Just then, a shout rang out from the side: “Guyue Village, come drink ginger soup!”

“Guyue Village, come drink ginger soup!”

“Guyue Village, come drink ginger soup!”

Three times the call echoed across the work site; every Guyue Villager heard it.

In the wind and snow, figures blurred, but they all converged in one direction.

There, Tang Banxia, Wen Mubai, Hu Zhaodi, and Shijian stood, eight wooden buckets at their feet, each wrapped in a quilt to keep the ginger soup warm.

Seeing this, the Guyue Villagers’ eyes turned red with emotion.

Shijian called out, “Hurry, before the ginger soup gets cold!”

Everyone lined up on their own; Hu Zhaodi ladled out cabbage ginger soup, one bowl per person, and Wen Mubai collected the empty bowls.

There was extra soup, which they divided among the elderly.

Once the soup was distributed, the group didn’t linger; “Bone broth for lunch,” was all they said before leaving.

The Guyue Villagers returned to work.

With that bowl of ginger soup, their frozen bodies revived, and they worked with renewed vigor.

Workers from other villages watched Guyue Villagers, after their ginger soup, bustling about with energy, and jealousy gnawed at them.

They glanced toward the entrance, hoping they might be next, but until the workday ended, no other group appeared.

Back at camp, they ate plain boiled cabbage, while Guyue Village dined on bone broth noodles and meat.

Some, unable to hold back, wept, “How is this so unfair?”

That sentiment echoed in every heart.

Yes, how could it be so unfair!

Everyone was here to build the dam—why should Guyue Village eat well and receive ginger soup, while they got nothing?

It shattered their spirits.

In the afternoon, Guyue Village came again, this time not only with ginger soup but also a bun for each person.

Smelling the aroma from their direction, people from other villages could only swallow their tears.

That evening, back at camp, another wave of disappointment struck.

Guyue Village had no idea.

Late at night, Tang Banxia woke from the cold, turned over, just about to sleep again, when she heard moaning from the next room...