Chapter 1: Chapter 1 — The Beginning

The first snowfall of 1976 came on New Year’s Eve. Shen Qiao got up and opened the window to see snowflakes dancing outside. She changed clothes, opened the door to go out, and accidentally stubbed her toe on a chair someone had left in the walkway.

Their home was cramped, the family large—furniture and things were everywhere.

She gasped from the pain, then went to wash up and headed to the kitchen to help.

Liu Aihong, her mother, had woken up at 4 a. M. To cook. With four kids in the family and only one daughter—especially one who had been sent down to the countryside and rarely came home for New Year—she wouldn’t hear of her helping. “You don’t need to do anything. There are oil-fried pancakes on the table—go eat.”

Oil and flour weren’t cheap.

Shen Qiao could tell the pancakes were bought just for her. She tore one in half and said, “I’ll share with Niu Niu.”

Liu Aihong, thinking of her three-year-old grandson, replied, “No need to save any for him—he’s got eggs to eat.”

Shen Qiao, hearing that, gave half the pancake to her mom and said, “Then you eat this.”

Liu Aihong would never take food from her kids, so she dodged quickly and said, “You eat, you eat—I’m not hungry.”

Shen Qiao chuckled. “It’s not like I’m force-feeding you.”

Liu Aihong looked at her daughter’s thin face and hands, clearly worn from hardship, and said with aching concern, “You haven’t had good food in the countryside, have you?”

This time of year, only places like Shanghai or the capital had halfway decent supplies. The countryside was another story.

Even so, Shen Qiao had received monthly care packages over the years, making her one of the better-off educated youth. She was content. “It’s not too hard, really.”

But her mother wasn’t buying it. “You barely did chores at home, and now your hands are all rough…”

No matter how she said it, her daughter going to the countryside felt like unbearable suffering.

When Shen Qiao had first been sent down, every letter home was full of complaints. But she had only been fifteen then. Now, she spoke more thoughtfully: “The other educated youths are nice. The brigade leaders are decent folks too. Our area isn’t the poorest—you can still get three meals a day.”

Some places only managed two—that was real hardship.

But these reassurances didn’t do much for Liu Aihong, who changed the subject and said, “How about settling things with Zhang Shun?”

Shen Qiao’s face darkened. “Absolutely not.”

She’d rather die in Guangming Brigade than marry Zhang Shun just to return to the city.

Liu Aihong was desperate—her daughter was leaving again on the seventh day of the new year. “He can get you a job.”

That kind of offer didn’t come every day. He was a physically sound man, no major flaws—by most people’s standards, a catch.

But to Shen Qiao, he had nothing but flaws.

First, he smoked—half a pack a day, and you could smell it from across the room. Second, he was condescending, always going on about what women “should” do. Third, he was foul-mouthed—he couldn’t talk without cursing.

She mentally crossed him off the list every time she saw him.

But to the older generation, these were nitpicks.

Liu Aihong tried to reason with her. “He has a stable job, his parents are cadres, he looks decent, doesn’t gamble or fool around—we’d be lucky to marry into a family like that.”

Shen Qiao bit into her pancake, unimpressed. “Then you can marry him.”

She added, “I’m not interested.”

Liu Aihong hadn’t planned to argue on New Year’s, but now she was in tears. “You’re my only daughter. How can I bear to leave you in the countryside? You’re twenty already. If you don’t find someone now, what will you do in a few years? Your father and I aren’t in great health. I lie awake at night worrying about you, dreaming you’ve gone missing…”

Shen Qiao was quiet for a while. Her mother’s words made her heart ache a little, but she said, “It’s just one more year—I’ll be back next year.”

She meant next year, as planned long ago by her parents.

They had four children. Her eldest brother, Shen Dao, was sent to Inner Mongolia in 1966 and came back in 1970 when the family bought him a job transfer. Her second brother, Shen Lu, was sent to a farm in Yunnan in 1968 and returned in 1973 to take over their father’s job. Shen Qiao was sent down in 1970. The family was saving up for her transfer too—she’d just have to wait a little longer.

Liu Aihong hesitated. “Your father’s wages aren’t what they used to be—it might not happen that soon.”

Shen Qiao knew. Her father had been a level-4 worker but had given up his position for her brother. Though his skills were still valuable at the steel plant, he was now paid as an apprentice—just 21 yuan a month.

Her mother had never worked a formal job and earned small amounts doing handicrafts. Saving money was much harder now, especially with her brothers’ recent weddings.

Still, Shen Qiao didn’t mind. “I’ve already stayed six years. What’s two more?”

In the beginning, she had counted every day. But over time, she got used to it—everything became familiar. The hardship didn’t feel so sharp anymore.

Liu Aihong sighed. “Your younger brother graduates in June.”

His grades weren’t good enough for high school, and the military wasn’t an option—too many people wanted in. Getting him a job would cost money, which the family couldn’t spare. Realistically, the only path left was going to the countryside.

Shen Qiao understood their worry. “How about sending him to my brigade? At least we can look out for each other.”

It was a good idea, but Liu Aihong couldn’t bear to send her son away. Deep down, she had another plan—if Shen Qiao married into the Zhang family, they could use the dowry or connections to get her younger son a job in the city. Then both children could stay in Shanghai. Wouldn’t that be ideal?