60s: I have a store

Chapter 627 is more difficult than imagined.
After finishing his meal at Zhou Dazhong's house, Zhou Yimin declined their offer to stay and rode his motorcycle home.

The night breeze was exceptionally refreshing, carrying a slight coolness on his face, which helped to alleviate his slight tipsiness from drinking.

Back home, he quickly washed up and lay down on the kang (a heated brick bed) to rest. Just as his head hit the pillow, a thought suddenly popped into his head—there wasn't much grain left in Zhoujiazhuang.

When he returned to Zhoujiazhuang before the Lunar New Year, the old Party Secretary specifically pulled him aside to talk about this matter. At that time, he promised to take some time to go back and see after the New Year and find a solution. However, he has been so busy with things at the factory lately that he has completely forgotten about it.

Thinking of this, Zhou Yimin suddenly felt uneasy. Zhoujiazhuang was his hometown, and the villagers lived a frugal life. If they didn't have enough food, it would be a huge problem.

He made up his mind that he had to go back to Zhoujiazhuang first thing tomorrow morning.

The next day, as soon as the rooster crowed for the first time, Zhou Yimin got up.

Then, as usual, I opened the store and checked the flash sale items. It seems my luck is pretty good today.

There are 100 jin of pork, 100 barrels of gasoline, 100 jin of bananas, and 100 bolts of cloth.

Zhou Yimin ate a simple breakfast, put two steamed buns in his pocket, and then rode his motorcycle to the steel plant.

When he arrived at the factory, it was just dawn. The office door was still locked. He waited for a while, and then Zhou Dazhong arrived.

"Sixteenth Uncle, you've arrived so early?" Zhou Dazhong was somewhat surprised to see him.

Zhou Yimin nodded and called him aside: "Dazhong, I have to go back to Zhoujiazhuang today. It's urgent. If there's anything the factory can't handle while I'm gone, just call me. If you really can't, just write it down and we'll talk about it when I get back."

"Alright, Uncle Sixteen, don't worry, I'll keep a close eye on things." Zhou Dazhong quickly replied, knowing that since Zhou Yimin had specifically given him instructions, it must be something important.

Zhou Yimin briefly looked around the office, processed some urgent documents, and exchanged a few words with the heads of several departments to ensure that the factory could operate normally during his two-day absence before he felt at ease.

After arranging things at the factory, Zhou Yimin walked out of his office, got on his motorcycle, and started the engine.

With a roar, the motorcycle sped away from the steel plant, heading towards Zhoujiazhuang.

There weren't many pedestrians on the road yet, only a few early-rising farmers driving oxcarts to deliver goods to the town. When they saw Zhou Yimin's motorcycle, they all looked over curiously.

Zhou Yimin had no time to pay attention to these things. He was thinking about the grain situation in Zhoujiazhuang. He stepped on the gas, and the motorcycle sped along the dirt road in the countryside, kicking up a cloud of dust.

After a bumpy ride, Zhou Yimin finally saw the old locust tree at the entrance of Zhoujiazhuang Village.

He slowed down, rode his motorcycle into the village, and headed straight for the old Party Secretary's house.

The old Party Secretary's house was located at the east end of the village. It was an unremarkable mud-brick house with rammed earth walls and several bundles of dried firewood piled up at the entrance.

Zhou Yimin parked his motorcycle, pushed open the half-closed gate, and went inside.

The yard was quiet, with only a few chickens pecking at their food.

He walked toward the main room, and as soon as he reached the door, he saw the old Party Secretary sitting on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), holding a pipe and puffing on it one after another.

Blue smoke swirled in front of him, obscuring his wrinkled face.

The old Party Secretary's brows were tightly furrowed, as if they were knotted together. His eyes were staring blankly at the ground, looking preoccupied. He was clearly facing some problem and didn't even notice Zhou Yimin walking in.

Zhou Yimin stood at the door for a moment, then took the initiative to walk up and greet him: "Old Party Secretary, what are you thinking about?"

Upon hearing that familiar voice, the old Party Secretary seemed to be startled awake, and he abruptly raised his head, almost dropping his pipe.

When he recognized the visitor as Zhou Yimin, a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes. He quickly tapped his pipe on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed) to extinguish the cigarette: "Yimin, when did you get back?"

Zhou Yimin sat down on a stool by the kang (a heated brick bed) and answered directly, "I just got back to the village. Old Party Secretary, how long can the village's food supply last?"

When the topic of food came up, the old Party Secretary's expression darkened again. He sighed and replied with a worried look, "The village's food reserves will only last for about a week at most."

These days, the old Party Secretary has been thinking about the grain issue. Ever since he mentioned it to Zhou Yimin before the Lunar New Year, he has been waiting for Zhou Yimin's reply.

After waiting for a while, he heard that Zhou Yimin had already gone to work at the steel factory, but he didn't get a definite answer. So he decided to find a solution himself.

But after running around to several places, he found that obtaining food was far more difficult than he had imagined. He was constantly running into obstacles and was so anxious that he developed blisters on his lips, which is why he was so upset just now.

Previously, with Zhou Yimin's help, they hadn't realized how difficult it was to buy grain. But after this experience, the old Party Secretary understood that the difficulty of buying grain far exceeded their imagination, especially since it involved large-scale purchases, making it even more challenging.

When Zhou Yimin heard this answer, he was also shocked. He did not expect that the village's food shortage was so severe, much more serious than he had anticipated.

Fortunately, I remembered it. I really can't imagine what would have happened if I hadn't. Life in the village would have been very difficult.

He took a deep breath, looked at the old Party Secretary's anxious eyes, and then said, "Old Party Secretary, don't worry, I will bring the grain back tonight!"

When the old Party Secretary received Zhou Yimin's affirmative answer, he was stunned and seemed unable to believe his ears.

Several seconds passed before he reacted, and he excitedly grabbed Zhou Yimin's hand. Those hands, calloused from years of hard work, were trembling slightly: "Yimin, is what you said true?"

Seeing the expectation in the old Party Secretary's eyes, Zhou Yimin nodded emphatically: "It's true, old Party Secretary, please don't worry."

The old Party Secretary was finally relieved. The wrinkles on his face smoothed out, and he tightly grasped Zhou Yimin's hand, repeatedly saying, "Good, good."

Zhou Yimin gave the old Party Secretary a few more instructions, saying that he still needed to arrange for a truck to transport the grain, and then got up and left the old Party Secretary's house.

As soon as Zhou Yimin left, the old Party Secretary seemed like a different person. His previous worries vanished, and he became energetic.

He didn't even bother to tidy up the pipe by the kang (a heated brick bed), and hurried towards the village's main dining hall.

The village's main dining hall is where all the villagers eat. It's a brick and tile building with a faded wooden sign hanging at the entrance that reads "Zhoujiazhuang Main Dining Hall".

During this period, because of concerns about food shortages, the old Party Secretary kept the canteen rationing food. The cornbread was made small and hard at every meal, and the porridge was cooked until it was clear to the bottom. The villagers didn't say anything, but they were all holding back their anger.

When the old Party Secretary arrived at the canteen, it was already bustling with activity. The canteen cooks, wearing greasy aprons, stood by the stove, directing several women to add water to the large pots in preparation for breakfast.

Several burlap sacks were laid out on the ground, containing only a small amount of cornmeal, which looked like a sign of their meager resources.

The old Party Secretary walked a few steps to the stove and loudly said to the canteen cook, "Today's meals should be back to the original standard!" The canteen cook was stirring the water in the pot with a ladle when he heard this. The ladle in his hand fell into the pot with a "clatter," splashing water everywhere.

He turned around, looking at the old Party Secretary with disbelief, his eyes wide open: "Old Party Secretary, what did you say?"

You know, just a few days ago the old Party Secretary came over to give us special instructions, saying that the village's food supply wouldn't last long and that it had to be rationed, with every meal's food being carefully calculated.

Why are they suddenly saying they want to return to the original level after only two days?
The change was so sudden that he was caught off guard.

With an irrepressible smile on his face, the old Party Secretary raised his voice to explain, "Yimin is back, it's Zhou Yimin. He said the grain will be delivered to the village tonight!"

"Zhou Yimin? The food will arrive tonight?" The canteen cook repeated, his eyes instantly lighting up with surprise.

Zhou Yimin is a respected figure in the village, and his words are always reliable.

The cafeteria worker's puzzled expression immediately turned into excitement, and he quickly replied, "Alright, old Party Secretary! I'll arrange it right away!"

After saying that, he turned to the women who were preparing ingredients and shouted, "Listen up, everyone! The old Party Secretary said we're going to restore the original supply level! Xiao Li, go to the warehouse and bring over two more bags of cornmeal! Xiao Wang, bring out that bag of millet too, we'll make some thick porridge this morning!"

The women were taken aback at first, but then they realized what was happening and their faces lit up with happy smiles as they busied themselves with their work.

Some people hurried towards the warehouse, while others picked up brooms to sweep the stove. The originally dull atmosphere in the dining hall suddenly became lively, and even the air seemed to have a bit more of an anticipation.

The old Party Secretary stood aside, watching the busy scene in the canteen and listening to everyone's cheerful conversation, and a huge weight was lifted from his heart.

He stroked his chin, a relieved smile spreading across his face, as if he could already see the villagers' joyful faces when the grain arrived that evening.

As the sun gradually climbed overhead, the villagers of Zhoujiazhuang, who had been busy all morning, carried hoes and sickles and walked in twos and threes toward the main dining hall.

The faces of the people were tired from their work, and their steps were somewhat heavy. When they thought of the thin porridge that was so clear you could see your reflection in it and the hard cornbread that had been eaten a few days ago, many of them frowned subconsciously.

Stepping into the dining hall, a fragrance unlike any other wafted towards me.
People looked towards the food window first, and their eyes lit up immediately—in the large steamer in the window were stacks of soft, fluffy steamed buns made from two kinds of dough, yellow and white, looking very substantial.

In the large bucket next to it was a steaming bowl of thick porridge. The porridge was cooked until it was sticky and you could clearly see the plump rice grains.

"What... what's going on?" A man carrying a hoe rubbed his eyes, unable to believe what he was seeing.

The woman at the front of the line, holding her bowl, watched as the cook ladled out a large spoonful of thick porridge and handed her two hot steamed buns. She asked in surprise, "Sir, why is the food different today? Didn't they say they were going to limit the portions a few days ago?"

The cook, his spoon still in hand, said with a smile, "This is what the old Party Secretary ordered—to restore the original standard! Zhou Yimin is back; he said he'll deliver grain to our village tonight!"

"Zhou Yimin?"

"The food will arrive tonight?"

These words spread like wildfire among the villagers queuing for food.

Everyone was taken aback at first, but then their faces lit up with delighted smiles, as if all their fatigue had been swept away in an instant.

"That's great! Yimin is such a reliable kid!"

"I knew it! There must be a way. Now we won't go hungry!"

"The food will arrive tonight, so will we be able to eat these two-grain steamed buns every meal from now on?"

Everyone was talking at once, their voices filled with excitement and anticipation.

Someone carried their food to a seat, took a big bite of a steamed bun made from two kinds of flour, and felt the aroma of flour mixed with wheat filling their mouth. They then drank a mouthful of thick porridge, and the warmth spread from their stomach to their heart. They couldn't help but let out a satisfied sigh.

The entire dining hall was no longer dull and oppressive as before; instead, it was filled with laughter and joy.

As everyone ate, they chatted about Zhou Yimin and the grain that would be delivered that evening. Hopeful smiles filled everyone's faces, and even the air seemed to smell sweeter.

Zhou Yimin then walked towards his old house.

As soon as I reached the gate of the courtyard, I saw my grandfather sitting on the threshold smoking his pipe, while my grandmother was feeding the chickens in the yard.

"Grandpa, Grandma, I'm back," Zhou Yimin called out.

The old man and the old woman looked up at the same time, and when they saw it was Zhou Yimin, their eyes lit up instantly.

The old man quickly tapped his pipe on the sole of his shoe, stood up and came over. The grandmother also put down the chicken feeder in her hand and walked over quickly. The two of them grabbed Zhou Yimin's arms on the left and right.

"Yimin, you're finally back!" Grandma's voice was choked with emotion as she looked him up and down. "It's been almost a month since the New Year, and I've missed you so much."

The old man nodded, his cloudy eyes full of affection: "It's good that you're back, it's good that you're back. You must have been very busy at the factory."

The two men pulled Zhou Yimin into the house, their eyes never leaving him.

Grandma touched his arm, her brows furrowing immediately: "Yimin, why have you lost so much weight? Your chin is so sharp. Have you not been eating properly at the factory?"

The old man also leaned closer to take a look and sighed, "You're right, her face looks thinner. No matter how busy you are with work, you have to take care of your health."

Zhou Yimin felt a warmth in his heart and said with a smile, "Grandpa, Grandma, I'm fine. I've just been busy at the factory lately, but I haven't lost much weight. Don't worry about me."

"You still say you haven't lost weight? Look at your wrists, they've gotten so thin!" Grandma persisted, pulling his hand to show him.

"Wait a minute, let your grandpa go to the henhouse and get two eggs, then I'll make you a steamed egg custard to nourish you."

"Yes, yes, I'll go pick some more vegetables from the field and cook you a dish." The old man said, starting to walk out.

Zhou Yimin quickly stopped them: "Grandpa, Grandma, no need to trouble yourself, just cook something simple."

But how could the old man and Zhou Yimin's grandmother listen to that?
With everyone working together and each busy with their own tasks, Zhou Yimin could only shake his head helplessly.

(End of this chapter)