Feng Man took a break and went to the nearby Department Store to buy a jin of mint candy for Cheng Lang, letting him eat it as he pleased.
From then on, the workers in the Mine District saw their own mine chief with cooling mint candy always in his pocket. He would occasionally peel off the wrapper and pop one into his mouth to savor, and he truly did not touch a single cigarette.
The other miners were longtime smokers, with plenty of tobacco smell on their bodies and in their mouths. Now, however, only the refreshing mint scent lingered around Mine Chief Cheng—a pleasant aroma, a faint fresh fragrance that made him stand out like an oddity among the men.
The Mine District was about to reopen, and He Chunsheng was directing two miners to rehang the sign on the iron gate. One moment he told them to shift it left, the next right. Spotting his master in the distance among a few miners who were smoking and resting, eating candy all alone, he could not help but feel pity for him.
Whoa, he had not expected Comrade Feng to be so formidable, managing to rein in his master like this.
When Feng Man handed the mint candy to Cheng Lang, she felt a bit more satisfied with this marriage partner. Though the man had a somewhat cold and reserved personality, he was decisive in handling matters. He had agreed to quit smoking when she suggested it, showing he was open to advice.
Living with a man like this gave her hope for their days ahead.
When she returned to the stall to do business, the classic combination of peanut porridge with sesame flatbread, braised pork, and braised eggs that Feng Man had perfected drew plenty of customers. In no time at all, she sold more than half.
Thanks to Feng Man’s excellent skills, repeat customers were naturally plentiful. It was not long before a new customer arrived.
An elder in his fifties or sixties approached with his hands behind his back, his steps steady. His experienced eyes scanned the stall, and his voice boomed like a bell, carrying a commanding authority: “One sesame flatbread and three liang of braised dishes, two braised eggs.”
“Coming right up!” Dong Xiaojuan packed the sesame flatbread and braised pork, while Feng Man ladled the porridge and took the money.
Once everything was packed and handed over, Feng Man gave two yuan and forty fen in change. But as she passed the money, she saw the elder’s stern expression, his gaze roaming critically, his posture ramrod straight as he lectured: “Why have you set up your food stall here? Everyone knows to place food stalls like noodle or rice noodle stands over there. That side has more food vendors, forming a proper hub where customers prefer to go. You young comrades need to pay attention to strategy and methods—you can’t just charge ahead blindly.”
Caught off guard by the sudden lecture, Feng Man and Dong Xiaojuan were a bit stunned and had no chance to respond before the elder walked off with his hands behind his back, exuding an air of dominance.
Feng Man: ?
Following the elder’s path with her eyes, Feng Man saw him heading to other stalls selling sundries, faintly hearing him pointing and commenting along the way. It was truly bizarre.
Fang Hong, selling popsicles nearby, muttered: “That’s just how Elder Huang is. He has to say something to everyone, acting like he’s in charge of the whole world. Don’t take it to heart.”
With customers coming and going all day, Feng Man truly did not dwell on this peculiar elder and promptly handled the next order with practiced efficiency: collecting money and packing food.
The Red Star Mine District underwent a complete transformation and reopened in early August.
The set reopening date was August 4th, the twenty-second day of the sixth lunar month—an auspicious day for opening a business.
However, just before the reopening, Cheng Lang ran into some trouble.
The Mine District’s handover procedures and the new mining approvals were all overseen by the District Committee’s Development Office. Dealing with government offices required connections. Those with good relations could breeze through the processes in little time, while those without might find the same procedures dragged out for ten days or half a month.
When Cheng Lang realized the process was being deliberately stalled, he immediately thought of You Changgui and You Jianyuan’s backgrounds. This uncle-nephew pair had strong family connections and backers; a single call from them was no big deal. Sure enough, during his dealings with Director Huang at the District Committee’s Development Office, a slight probe confirmed that the You family was indeed pulling strings behind the scenes.
The issue was neither big nor small, yet it pricked like a needle—invisible on the surface but irritating all the same.
While Feng Man and her cousin-in-law sold braised pork and sesame flatbread at the stall—one collecting money, ladling porridge, and adding pickled radish; the other packing flatbread and meat—once things sold down to a reasonable amount, Feng Man heard her cousin-in-law mutter: “I wonder if the reopening will go smoothly.”
Her own man had quit his job to follow her younger brother-in-law, and Dong Xiaojuan had no objections. But with the stable iron rice bowl gone and this new venture just starting up, she could not help feeling some worry.
“What about the reopening?” Feng Man had not heard Cheng Lang mention anything. When he returned home, he always kept a straight face, showing no emotional fluctuations.
“Ah Lang didn’t tell you?” Dong Xiaojuan was surprised and simply repeated what her husband had grumbled about over late-night snacks the previous evening: “I heard it’s some leader surnamed Huang from the district throwing his weight around, dragging out the handover paperwork and not properly approving the mining permits. It feels deliberate. Zhenghua has many brothers at the Liberation Mine District side, and word is that You Jianyuan is sabotaging things behind the scenes. They have good ties with the District Committee—a casual hint from them, and the Committee gives us the cold shoulder.”
The intricacies of politics and business were convoluted with tangled relationships, something Feng Man had heard about before. Now, the speculation seemed nine-tenths accurate. If targeted by someone powerful and well-connected like You Jianyuan, even a casual word could give Cheng Lang, who had no background, a real headache.
As Feng Man pondered this, a familiar customer approached. Ever since he had pointed and lectured at the stall last time, tried the sesame flatbread and braised pork, and acted a bit strangely, this old gentleman had taken a liking to the taste and came every few days.
“Same as usual, Elder?” Feng Man saw him nod and swiftly ladled a bowl of porridge, had Sister Xiaojuan pack two sesame flatbreads, a bag of braised pork, and two braised eggs, then took three yuan and sixty fen.
The elder nodded in satisfaction and glanced over the stall again: “Things are packed nicely, but keep it clean, and move a bit faster.”
What could one say? He dressed plainly, like any street-strolling elder, but his posture of gesturing commandingly almost made people mistake him for some big leader.
Feng Man did not argue with a customer. Though his tone carried a patronizing dad-like vibe with all the unsolicited advice, the customer was king—no need to take it personally. She simply smiled and watched him head to the fabric stall to buy, meanwhile lecturing the vendor on improper placement.
Dong Xiaojuan shook her head, finding it absurd: “All kinds of people exist. Who goes around lecturing strangers like that?”
“Let him be.” Feng Man glanced back a few times. “Maybe he doesn’t get the chance at home and comes out to feel important.”
Today’s stock sold out smoothly, leaving only a few slices of braised pig head meat and braised pig liver—not even a full portion. Feng Man took it home to eat for lunch.
Halfway there, she ran into the neighbor from next door, the tenant in the flat next to their courtyard house—Fang Hong walking with her daughter.
Fang Hong’s popsicle stall was right next to Dong Xiaojuan’s. She had something come up that morning and had not set up. Now that they met, the two exchanged greetings and chatted idly. Fang Hong’s daughter had not eaten yet. The four-year-old girl, with her head near the braised meat Feng Man carried, heard her stomach growl audibly upon smelling it.
The little girl blushed deeply, but Feng Man teased her into a smile and patted her cheek: “Little Yun is hungry, huh? Here, take this braised meat home to eat.”
“No need, no need.” Fang Hong hurriedly declined, but Feng Man insisted. Seeing how cute the girl was, how could she begrudge a few slices of meat?
As they chatted, a familiar figure passed by. Feng Man glanced twice instinctively, only to hear Fang Hong beside her say: “Elder Huang hasn’t changed a bit.”
“Sister Hong, you mentioned knowing him last time. Do you?” Feng Man wanted to gripe about the elder’s habit of showing off outside but held back.
“I do. He lives over there—see? The house around the corner is his family’s ancestral property, quite spacious. I hear his son is some leader at the District Committee’s Development Office—quite capable.”
“District Committee?” Feng Man heard those two words, and a spark flashed in her mind. “His son works at the District Committee’s Development Office?”
“More than that!” Fang Hong lowered her voice in gossip mode. “Elder Huang himself is a retired cadre from a government unit. He’s been retired for years but still loves strolling with hands behind his back, lecturing everyone. Last time, he even tried directing some elders playing Chinese chess by the roadside and nearly got beaten up.”
“Pfft.” Feng Man could not help laughing. Who loved playing the world commander so much?
After a quick chat, Feng Man returned to her courtyard, lit the stove to boil water, and prepared to cook some simple noodles. She filled her enamel cup more than halfway with warm water from the thermos, sipping it while waiting for the pot to boil.
Unexpectedly, noise came from the front gate—Cheng Lang had returned.
With the Mine District reopening imminent, Cheng Lang was swamped and usually had no time to come back for lunch, so Feng Man was surprised: “Why back at noon today? Eaten yet?”
“No, I was just receiving District Committee leader Huang Zhiyi nearby. Finished up and passed by, so I thought I’d come take a look.” Cheng Lang had clearly been busy all morning, sweat beading on his forehead. He bent directly over the faucet to splash his face. Water droplets soaked his entire face, slowly trailing down his straight nose bridge, over thin lips, and finally rolling down his firm Adam’s apple, disappearing into his black shirt.
Feng Man withdrew her gaze and casually set the enamel cup on the stove: “Then I’ll cook an extra bowl.”
She put half a jin of noodles into the pot—two liang for herself, three for Cheng Lang. Two wide-mouthed sea bowls held the white noodles dyed red by chili oil, topped with tender green scallion flowers.
While serving the two bowls, Feng Man looked up to see the man drinking the warm water from her half-finished cup, the enamel cup looking somewhat dainty in his large hands.
Thinking that they were already husband and wife, Feng Man said nothing more and simply urged him to eat.
Cheng Lang ate in big bites but without seeming crude—it was apparently a habit from his army days when mealtimes were rushed and everyone ate like that.
Feng Man watched him for a moment and could not hold back: “The meeting with the leader didn’t go smoothly?”
Cheng Lang was momentarily stunned, not expecting Feng Man to ask about it, then replied: “A bit, but no big issue. It’s fine.”
From just these two matters, Feng Man could tell Cheng Lang’s personality: the type to keep everything bottled up and deal with it himself.
Feng Man did not press further and changed the subject: “Not long ago, I contacted Baozhu using Xiaoshan’s name. She sent a letter saying my ID card is still with Zhao Gang, but the household registry is at home. It’s tricky for now. My dad and stepmom, to avoid Zhao Gang’s wrath, shifted the blame to you, saying you this wild man were jealous of Zhao Gang and deliberately ran off with me.”
The story sounded ugly as she told it, and the cause was not really like that, but the awkward part was that they had indeed gotten married now, making it seem all too real.
“Wild man?” Cheng Lang zeroed in on the less important detail in Feng Man’s words, his deep brows instantly furrowing.
Feng Man shot him a playful glare: “Why fuss over a label? I was worried they might cause trouble at first, but with the distance, it seems there’s little to fear. Still, I wanted to give you a heads-up, just in case.”
“Mm.” Cheng Lang’s expression showed no ripple. “Not a big deal. No need to worry.”
But wild man—how grating. He had held a wedding banquet; he was perfectly legitimate.
Though he said that, Cheng Lang mulled over finding a chance to return to Nine Mountains Village, retrieve Feng Man’s ID card, transfer her household registry, get their marriage certificate, and deal with Zhao Gang.
Heh, wild man? Who was he calling that?