Time passed slowly, and so did the progress.
Though the work on this day was less demanding than in the morning, the scorekeeper likely took pity on her. After all, she looked frail, with gloves that seemed to be soaked in blood. Her diligence was commendable, so they gave her three work points.
With that, her six points for the next day were secure.
Days passed like the blisters on her hands—forming, bursting, and healing, only to form again. After ten or so days of hard labor, she had adapted to the physical strain, but the one problem she couldn’t ignore was her growing appetite.
The quota for grains was fixed by the brigade. No matter how many work points one had, everyone could only receive 360 pounds of grain a year.
In the past, one pound a day had sufficed for her, but now, she was constantly hungry, yet had nothing extra to fill her stomach. All she could do was endure.
In the midst of this hardship, she received a package.
Frankly, she had braced herself for the worst and resolved not to accept anything more from her family. Yet this package was different—it came from her two older brothers.
The local mailman made his rounds every five days, and as most people in the area had little contact with the outside world, he would go directly to the youth work teams when he arrived.
That day, it was during the lunch break when she heard her name called, surprising her. The mailman, an old acquaintance, said, "Finally got your package. I hadn’t seen anything for a while, thought it got lost."
沈乔 muttered to herself but said, “I’ve only just come back from home. Nothing should have been sent to me.”
The mailman, convinced by her words, didn’t question her further. After all, he’d been delivering packages from her family for years. In his experience, it was only沈乔’s family who would send packages consistently.
When he left,沈乔 carried the package inside, greeted the others with a nod, and retreated to her room.
The others, who lived in the same courtyard, usually kept to themselves and didn’t ask about the contents of anyone else's packages. But Li Liyun couldn’t help but comment, “Finally! I was starting to worry that she’d fallen out with her family.”
There was no ill will in Li’s words; it was genuine concern. After all, everyone shared the same food rations in the commune. If someone ran out of food, the others would have to pitch in, but with food being so scarce, everyone hoped for the best for each other.
沈乔 didn’t pay much attention to them, carefully opening the package she received. Inside, there was a letter.
It was from her second brother,沈路. They were three years apart and had always been close, staying in touch regularly.
The letter was a mix of reprimand and concern.沈路 scolded her for leaving without saying a word and causing their parents so much distress, almost making their mother ill. He ended with a reminder to take care of herself and to write if she needed anything.
While some parts of the letter were uncomfortable to read, every word was filled with care.
沈乔 held the letter, feeling an unfamiliar mix of emotions. She slowly packed everything back into the box—there were some food items, drinks, and even twenty yuan, half of which was from her oldest brother,沈道.
Her brother had recently married, and his wife was pregnant. Even so, they still managed to send her this help, which she greatly appreciated.
沈乔 knew this was a favor she would need to repay, and she made a mental note to do so when the time came. This was her first time keeping track of such kindness, a sign, she felt, that she was becoming more independent.
Her brothers had always looked out for her, but she had never really repaid them. Perhaps her brothers wouldn’t mind, but she knew that her sisters-in-law, who didn’t have the same bond with her as her brothers, would certainly see things differently. They had no deep, lifelong connection with her, so their kindness shouldn’t be taken for granted.
With these thoughts in mind,沈乔 decided to go out. She figured the brigade had a few local specialties she could buy and send back to her family.