As the customers gradually dispersed, Yuan Qiumei stepped forward a few paces and explained to her husband, “People in business have to take care of outsiders first. I saved you a bowl of fish soup tonight—it’s especially fragrant!”
Zhou Yuejin pulled a long face. “I didn’t want to drink it at all. They dragged me over.”
Yuan Qiumei took his words to heart. “Oh.”
That evening, after getting off work and returning home, Zhou Yuejin searched the dinner table but found nothing. He checked the kitchen but still found nothing. He sniffed hard, yet there was no fresh, fragrant aroma.
He cleared his throat and spoke up. “Didn’t you say you were bringing something back?”
“Huh?” Yuan Qiumei was busy stir-frying vegetables in the kitchen. She waved her spatula upon hearing him. “Didn’t you say you weren’t going to drink it? So I sold it all instead. Made an extra fifty cents, too.”
“You…” Zhou Yuejin felt a surge of frustration as he stared at his wife’s back. He felt like she had changed; she hadn’t been like this before!
She listened when he said he wouldn’t drink, but when he told her not to go to work, she wouldn’t listen.
……
Feng’s Milky White Fish Soup drew attention in this early winter. It was delicious and warming, and at fifty cents, anyone could afford it. Business was booming, even attracting customers from farther away.
Ever since Feng Man had reminded her last time, Dong Xiaojuan paid extra attention while doing business, keeping an eye out for the two customers who had bought Liu Cuihua’s bad sesame flatbreads and gotten sick.
Four days after they started selling the fish soup, Dong Xiaojuan actually spotted the man who had come to make a fuss back then.
Lu Yongnian, a staffer at the government unit’s Development Office, couldn’t resist his wife and kids craving the sesame flatbreads. He had also heard that Feng’s had launched some especially tasty fish soup. So during his lunch break, he took the bus with his family’s thermos bucket to buy Feng’s sesame flatbreads and fish soup.
It was a rare trip over, so he ordered ten sesame flatbreads and five bowls of fish soup right away—some for his left and right neighbors. It was worth the bus ride.
Seeing such a big customer, Dong Xiaojuan took a closer look and immediately recognized him. She hurriedly had Yuan Qiumei go call Feng Man.
At that moment, Feng Man was by the roadside finalizing a business deal with the director of a nearby small-to-medium mine district’s logistics office. To boost the workers’ productivity, the mine district planned to buy some treats to reward everyone.
A big order like this, without having to man the stall, was naturally great news.
Having just settled the time and quantity, Feng Man saw Yuan Qiumei hurrying over. After a few whispered words, Feng Man said goodbye to the logistics director. “Director Yang, that’s settled then. We’ll definitely have everything ready by next Monday.”
“Alright. Tally up the cost, and bring the deposit tomorrow.”
Having closed the deal, Feng Man returned to the stall and indeed saw the man who had gotten sick. She glanced at his work uniform and took the thermos bucket of fish soup that Dong Xiaojuan had filled, handing it to him.
“Thanks for the business, comrade. You and your wife still like our sesame flatbreads. Try more of this fish soup too—it won’t disappoint.”
Lu Yongnian could tell from the aroma that it was something special. He nodded repeatedly. “Everyone’s craving it. My wife and kids think about it all the time.”
“Then come more often! If we get a chance to rent a shop and open a proper store later, it’ll be even more convenient for your whole family to come sit down and eat.” Feng Man smiled as she handed over the items, made change, and gave him the rest of his money. Her eyes lit up as she looked at the Development Office staffer, but she said no more.
Lu Yongnian carried his purchases on the bus back home first, dropped them off, then headed to work in the Development Zone. On the way, he mulled over what the stall owner had said, thinking about the Development Zone’s key project lately: building a street of shops.
When he walked into the Development Office building and returned to his workstation, he continued sorting materials on nearby mine districts. He zoned out while reading the report on the Red Star Mine District’s mining operations at Laifeng Mountain.
This mine had long been definitively judged by others as having insufficient mineral content—mining it would be a total loss. Yet the Red Star Mine District was stubbornly pushing ahead.
Out of the corner of his eye, Lu Yongnian spotted the Red Star Mine District’s boss, Cheng Lang, passing by and heading straight upstairs. He shook his head. This boss was clueless too—just wasting his labor.
Lately, Cheng Lang had been heading to the Development Zone every few days, not for anything else, but to show his face to Huang Zhiyi.
Different people required different approaches.
For someone like Feng Jianshe, who was all bark and no bite, you just had to seize his vital point and scare him off, and he wouldn’t cause any more trouble.
But Huang Zhiyi was different. Holding a high position, he needed to be catered to with flattery and scheming—show him your value.
Cheng Lang wasn’t reckless. These days, he often discussed mineral issues with Huang Zhiyi, subtly steering toward the rare minerals that Huang cared about most, always keeping him hooked.
The Development Zone plodded along mainly with coal mining, but Cheng Lang had long noticed Huang Zhiyi’s interest in developing other mineral resources. Otherwise, after You Jianyuan stole the fruits of his team’s labor last year and reported it upward, he wouldn’t have received such strong commendation, even getting a chance to receive an award in the province.
From this, it was clear that Huang Zhiyi was at least straightforward.
Cheng Lang’s approach was working. The staffers in the Development Zone had more or less been wined and dined by Liberation Mine District’s You Jianyuan—some food and drinks, a cigarette with a casual mention—and everyone knew Liberation and Red Star Mine Districts were at odds.
But now, Red Star’s boss Cheng Lang was meeting with Director Huang often, chatting for long stretches in the office. The government folks were sharp; they could see which way the wind was blowing and handled things more smoothly afterward.
Cheng Lang handed in his progress report on the Laifeng Mountain mine. Huang Zhiyi was quite interested. “A lot of people were dead set that this mine wasn’t worth excavating, but you seem confident.”
“Director Huang, I’m not one of those people.” Cheng Lang’s gaze was firm.
“Hahahahaha.” Huang Zhiyi found the man intriguing. “Young people these days are bold. But if it turns out to be all for nothing, your mine district might not hold up.”
“We’ll see the results.” Cheng Lang was resolute in his heart. If they actually mined something out of this “dead mountain,” it might not be whose loss.
In mid-November, the temperature had stabilized, and everyone had adapted to the chill after the cold wave. The local postman’s olive-green long-sleeved uniform fluttered as he rode his 28-Inch Bike, bell ringing ding-ding-ding, delivering letters and packages.
Cheng Lang hadn’t gotten home yet, so Feng Man accepted the package from neighbor Jiang Ping on his behalf. She couldn’t help but sigh at the man’s sincerity and persistence.
This neighbor was truly honest and straightforward. Most people would thank you once for helping them get a job, but this one persisted, sending a package every month.
This time, inside was a tin of premium Pu’er tea—quite thoughtful.
If she hadn’t repeatedly confirmed her husband’s upright and kind nature, Feng Man might have thought this Jiang Ping was the original body’s baby betrothal from the stories. After all, such honest and straightforward people were rare.
In little Nine Mountains Village, the Feng Family’s left and right neighbors had produced one upright and kind man, and one honest and straightforward one. Remarkable.
When Cheng Lang got off work and stepped through the door, he heard Feng Man praising Jiang Ping to her cousin-in-law.
“Jiang Ping was our neighbor before. Look at this guy— so sincere and honest, sending thank-you gifts every month.” Feng Man sighed from the heart.
Dong Xiaojuan, picking vegetables nearby, nodded. “He’s a good one. When are you inviting him over for a meal? Someone with manners like that is worth befriending!”
“We’ll see what Ah Lang says. He got him the job, it’s a gift for him, and they have the best relationship.” As Feng Man finished, she turned and saw her husband, who had just gotten home, with an odd expression.
His usual stern and cold face had always just been intimidating, not truly angry. But now, it was different—like he had darkened his own face.
Had work not gone smoothly?
After dinner, Feng Man found Cheng Lang in the inner room and enthusiastically called him to look at Jiang Ping’s letter and gift. “I didn’t open the letter—you read it. I opened the package; he sent Pu’er tea. Pretty thoughtful. You’ve got a good brother there, always keeping you in mind.”
Feng Man was always fair, and praising her husband’s friend was a way of showing care by extension.
“Good?” Cheng Lang’s voice was deep and solid, but upon closer listen, it carried a strange emotion. Feng Man tried to discern it but couldn’t.
“Yeah, your good brother from back home. Relationship that close— isn’t he good?”
Feng Man placed the Pu’er tea on the cabinet and turned to see Cheng Lang taking out the ID card and Household Registry she had finally gotten, flipping through them repeatedly. “The documents are ready. Time to handle the rest.”
Feng Man’s attention shifted instantly. “My household registration is transferred over. I even opened an account at the bank and got a Passbook. Everything’s done.”
Cheng Lang was choked by her words. “And the rest?”
“What else is there?” Feng Man frowned in thought. Everything was handled: ID Card, Household Registry, Passbook… That was it.
Cheng Lang coughed lightly. “Tell me, what can two people’s ID cards and Household Registries be used for?”
Feng Man rarely saw Cheng Lang acting so oddly. She pondered for a bit before suddenly realizing. “Do you want to transfer your household registration to my Household Registry? Or should I go to yours?”
Cheng Lang’s household registration had been transferred to the mine district back then, and later moved from Liberation Mine District to Red Star Mine District—a single-person Household Registry.
Cheng Lang: “…”
Feng Man clutched her Household Registry lovingly. “But I’m the head of household now. Sounds so impressive. I don’t want to be just a member. How about you transfer over~”
Cheng Lang placed his own Household Registry and ID Card in front of her, his expression stern. “Get the Marriage Certificate first, then transfer.”
Hearing “Marriage Certificate,” Feng Man was stunned for a moment. Only then did she remember—they hadn’t gotten their certificate yet!
It had been so long since the wedding banquet, and she had actually forgotten!
The next morning, after days of gloomy weather, the skies finally cleared a bit. Urged by Cheng Lang, Feng Man got up early and rushed to the Civil Affairs Bureau just as it opened, becoming the first couple in line.
They handed over their respective ID Cards and Household Registries. Feng Man glanced at the wall clock— so early.
She had wanted to come later to avoid waking early, but the workaholic beside her insisted on doing it first thing, probably not wanting to delay work at the mine district afterward.
In that era, getting a Marriage Certificate was simple. Show valid documents, have both parties present, fill out the application—after a twenty-minute wait, two brand-new red booklets were issued fresh.
Looking at the little red books, Feng Man felt a mix of emotions. She hadn’t expected to be a certified married woman.
Leaving the Civil Affairs Bureau, Feng Man thought of heading back to prepare food, but Cheng Lang suggested going to the police station again. “Merge the two Household Registries into one.”
Feng Man haggled. “I want to be the head of household.”
It sounded way cooler.
Cheng Lang’s brows softened with a smile. “Fine.”
He was used to being on his own anyway; he didn’t mind.
After processing, the two Household Registries became one. Opening the cover, the first page listed head of household Feng Man’s details, the second Cheng Lang’s as a member. In the relationship column to the right of the head: “spouse.”
With everything done, Feng Man prepared food in the middle courtyard while Cheng Lang locked the Marriage Certificate and documents back in the drawer, lingering without coming out.
Her hands dusted with flour, Feng Man poked her head in. “Why haven’t you gone to the mine district yet?”
She saw the man at the desk, bent over writing—his stiff expression from yesterday gone, looking quite amiable. “Writing a letter back to Jiang Ping. Sending some wedding candies and a return gift along.”