Chapter 45: Yanda, Literary World, Here I Come!

Maiji Brigade, the once tranquil mountain village had become unusually lively these past two months. When Liu Yimin rode his bicycle back to Maiji Brigade, the villagers, upon seeing him, stopped in the distance to wave and called out, "The Liu family’s college student is back!"

News spread through Maiji Brigade like a whirlwind. The country folk may not have been literate, but they understood the significance of a college student. They might not know all the universities in the country, but everyone knew the prestige of Yanjing University.

Especially after the Revolutionary Committee’s publicity and a grand stage performance, people from miles around knew that the Liu family’s second son was about to soar to new heights.

When Liu Yimin returned home, his parents, Liu Fuqing and Yang Xiuyun, were still working in the fields. But not long after he arrived, they hurried back, fussing over the son who had brought such honor to the Liu family.

Yang Xiuyun eyed the cotton cloth and other daily necessities strapped to Liu Yimin’s bicycle, grumbling about his careless spending, while inwardly calculating what kind of clothes she should sew for him. Though her mouth complained, her eyes betrayed nothing but pride.

Liu Fuqing went to the cave dwelling behind the courtyard and brought out a gray-and-yellow mottled wild rabbit, calling out for Yang Xiuyun to prepare something delicious for Liu Yimin. The Liu family’s courtyard was arranged in a square, with earthen houses on either side and a kitchen, and a cave dug into the rear. The courtyard walls were also made of rammed earth, with wild grass growing atop them.

"Yimin, this rabbit has quite a story. The morning after the Revolutionary Committee delivered the congratulatory notice, I sneaked out to the ancestral graves before dawn and saw it there. Normally, it’s too fast to catch, but this time I managed to grab it after just ten meters. I think, maybe it’s your grandfather..."

As Liu Fuqing spoke, his voice grew softer, afraid others might overhear and accuse him of clinging to old superstitions.

That evening, the aroma of meat from the Liu household made the children in nearby homes cry with longing. Each family shut their doors and windows tightly, afraid the smell would ruin their appetite. Some simply sat outside, savoring their own meal as the savory scent wafted by, exclaiming at its deliciousness.

At the dinner table, Liu Yimin told his parents that he would be leaving for Yanjing at the end of the month. Yang Xiuyun, engrossed in his tales from the cultural center, suddenly fell silent. Liu Fuqing, placing a piece of meat in his son’s bowl, smiled and said, "Mother, it’s good for the boy to go to Yanjing. It’s our capital, it has Tiananmen, and the Chairman is there!"

Yang Xiuyun retorted, "Of course I know it’s a good thing!"

She finished her meal, quietly retreated to her room, and took out the cotton cloth she had bought to make clothes for Liu Yimin. Measuring his height with a soft tape, she muttered, "Just like before, he really hasn’t grown any taller!"

"Your mother just can’t bear to part with you," Liu Fuqing said, smiling.

"Father, I know," Liu Yimin replied.

After dinner, Liu Fuqing took Liu Yimin outside to sit under the Chinese toon tree in the courtyard and recounted all the events of the past days in the brigade, laughing uncontrollably as he spoke. The county Revolutionary Committee’s director had shaken his hand, the commune director had treated him to a meal, and the villagers of Maiji Brigade now greeted him with cheerful smiles.

When Han Shaomin from the first team saw him, he even offered him a cigarette—something Liu Fuqing had never dared dream of before.

"The opera singers say that when one person achieves something, even the chickens and dogs of the family rise with him. Our chickens and dogs really have risen! Even our dog’s bark is louder than the others’ now!... cough cough cough..." Liu Fuqing was so joyful he choked on his dry tobacco.

"Father, you really should cut back on smoking."

Just then, Li Dashan and Li Lanyong arrived, eager to hear about what had happened in the county.

"Yimin, your speech on the loudspeaker that day was really something. My father was so envious—when he gave reports, he never got broadcast county-wide," Li Lanyong said, squatting in the courtyard, his face animated.

Li Dashan glared at him, nearly tempted to discipline his third son, then turned to Liu Yimin, "Were there a lot of people? When I gave my report back then, the cinema seats were all filled!"

As they spoke, more villagers began to gather in the Liu family’s courtyard. Soon, it was crowded to the point where there was barely room to stand. They peppered Liu Yimin with questions, their eyes wide in anticipation, nodding thoughtfully at the most exciting parts, which would become topics of discussion for days.

Now, Liu Yimin was much like a storyteller.

It was not until late at night, when Liu Yimin yawned, that Li Dashan stood up, nudged the others, and said, "Time to go, Yimin’s tired from riding back. If you want to hear more, come tomorrow. Each of you is as lazy as a donkey tied to a millstone—won’t move even if you’re beaten. Yimin should write about all these ‘lazy donkeys’ in our brigade!"

Every morning before dawn, Li Dashan would ring the iron bell at the village entrance several times so that the workers from each production team could gather for the day’s labor. There was no set time for work in the brigade—when the sky began to lighten, it was time to ring the bell.

In the next few days, Liu Yimin sometimes accompanied his parents to the fields, and everywhere he went, he heard villagers call him either "Writer Yimin" or "College Student Yimin."

Yang Xiuyun, too, sometimes asked, "Is our college student and writer Yimin here?"

She wasn’t one to brag, but after Liu Yimin graduated high school, he hadn’t found a good job, ended up as a brigade teacher, and then lost that position. Those days had been stifling, with the constant buzz of gossip about the Liu family. Now, finally, she could hold her head high.

But after a few times, it lost its novelty, and she stopped mentioning it.

While working in the fields, she also prepared everything Liu Yimin would need for school. In those days, students had to bring their own supplies, and without ration tickets, it was hard to buy anything in Yanjing. Bedding and clothes were tied with hemp rope, daily items like toothpaste and washbasins were packed, and in the end, it became clear that everything would have to be carried on a shoulder pole.

Traveling with a shoulder pole was nothing to be ashamed of in those days; many people carried tons of belongings this way. Liu Yimin found it too troublesome, so he pared down his possessions, eventually carrying his bedding on his back and holding a mesh bag with daily necessities in his hands.

Once in Yanjing, he could rely on his connections at the editorial office to get the necessary ration tickets.

Before his departure, Yang Xiuyun remembered Liu Yimin sometimes suffered from stomach discomfort and bloating. She quickly wrapped some fried morning glory seeds in paper and tucked them into his pocket, reminding him to eat them if his stomach acted up.

These seeds were known to be effective against bloating.

"Father, Mother, don’t worry. I’ll see Yimin off," Liu Yiguo said, hanging luggage from his bicycle. He had come especially to escort his brother.

Li Lanyong, knowing Liu Yimin was leaving, insisted on riding along as well. "That’s right, Uncle and Aunt. Yimin will be home for vacation in a few months, so don’t worry."

Along the way, Liu Yiguo repeatedly reminded Liu Yimin to be careful, to write home, and then paused, "Better send a telegram. It’s quick, and doesn’t cost much for a few words."

At the train station, Li Lanyong handed his photo to Liu Yimin, insisting he take a picture at Tiananmen and mail it to him.

"Big brother, Lanyong, you two head back now."

Sitting on the train, Liu Yimin watched as the little coal town receded into the distance.

"Yanjing, university, the literary world—here I come!"