In the fiery red era of the heavens, refrigerators are refreshed daily.

Chapter 80, Section 79: The Red Thread and the Decisive Decision

A seemingly straight road has been completely blocked, but as the saying goes, one cannot hang oneself on one tree while alive.

He abruptly changed direction, quickening his pace towards the familiar Shikumen gate. This was something he had to face with his whole family, to find a new path in this desperate situation together.

***
The atmosphere in the front building of the Shikumen was even heavier than the stagnant air in the post office, like solidified lead.

The last rays of the setting sun struggled to penetrate the narrow window frame, casting long, slanted, dim yellow beams of light onto the mottled, peeling wall. Instead of dispelling the gloom, they added to the sense of decay and oppression.

On the peeling table, four pounds of snow-white dried rice noodles and two jars of honey, gleaming with an alluring amber luster in the dim light, lay quietly.

They are no longer treasures, but rather like silent accusations, mocking the family's ignorance and helplessness.

Zhang Xiuying, Yang Yongkang, Yang Guanghui, and Li Guihua sat around the table, the air tense as a taut bowstring.

Zhuangzhuang was held tightly in Li Guihua's arms. The child seemed to sense the unusual suffocation. He opened his big, dark eyes and was unusually quiet, with his little mouth slightly pouting.

Yang Guangming recounted every word the old post office gentleman said, every bloody case, verbatim and in a heavy tone.

Li Guihua tightened her grip on Zhuangzhuang's hand, and the child burst into tears. She snapped out of her daze as if burned, hurriedly loosening her grip and patting and soothing the child, her own voice trembling with uncontrollable fear.
"Mother, winter vegetables! This...this is terrifying!"
I...I almost got Mingming into trouble!

Her eyes were filled with fear as she looked at the things on the table, as if they were looking at a bomb that could explode at any moment.

Zhang Xiuying felt a wave of fear wash over her. Her lips trembled, and tears welled up in her eyes, streaming down the deep wrinkles etched on her face.

She suddenly grabbed Yang Guangming's hand, her voice trembling with tears and immense fear:
"Clearly...you...you really didn't mail it, did you? The post office...the post office didn't hold it, did they? They didn't give you any trouble, did they?"

After receiving her son's repeated affirmations and reassurances, she felt as if her bones had been removed, and she let go of his hand, collapsing onto the stool. She patted her chest in lingering fear, repeatedly muttering:
"I was so scared... I was so scared... Please, God, protect me..."

Yang Yongkang remained silent, like a statue cast in iron.

His thick brows were furrowed into an unsolvable knot, and he gripped the pipe tightly in his rough hands. The tobacco in the pipe had long since gone out.

His bronze face appeared as hard as rock in the shadows.

When he heard the last case about grain coupons, he slammed his pipe heavily against the hard corner of the table!
"Boom!"

A muffled thud, like the slamming of a gavel, made the oil lamp on the table sway a few times.

The sound struck everyone's heart hard.

"Did you all hear that clearly?!"

His voice was deep and resonant, like muffled thunder rolling from the ground, carrying the unquestionable absolute authority and severity of the head of the family.
"That's the policy! You think you're having too much of a peaceful time at home, huh?"

His sharp, knife-like gaze swept across everyone's terrified faces like a steel blade scraping bones, finally fixing fixed on Yang Guangming's face. His gaze held lingering fear, but even more so, an unwavering command:
"Mingming, your status is different now; you're a factory manager! Your future is what matters!"

Don't even think about doing something as risky and dangerous as this!
Mailing food and ration coupons—that's all over!

Did you hear me? Don't even think about it!

Every word he spoke was like a nail, meant to be driven into Yang Guangming's very bones. "Understood, Father," Yang Guangming replied solemnly, meeting his father's gaze, his voice steady and clear.

That terrifying scene at the post office had etched this ironclad rule deep into his bones.

"Then...what should we do?"

Zhang Xiuying's sobs were filled with helplessness and despair. As she looked at the rice noodles and honey on the table, she seemed to see her children's faces, purple from the cold, and their eyes, green from hunger, in the icy snow of Northeast China.

“Yaoyao wrote in his letter that he was so hungry that he could barely walk… Meimei, no matter how sensible you are, you still need to eat… and cotton… the winters in Northeast China… are absolutely freezing…” Her tears welled up again, dripping onto the front of her old clothes.

Yang Yongkang took a deep breath, his chest heaving violently, as if trying to forcefully suppress the heavy gloom.

He spoke again, his voice still low, but carrying a resolute determination as he searched for a way out of a desperate situation:

"The old post office worker is right, there's always a way out!"

He tapped the table with his thin fingers: "Old quilts and old cotton clothes, washed and clean, can be mailed!"

The old post office worker also said that each person should have a thin cotton quilt and an old cotton-padded jacket, strictly following the prescribed quantity, and not exceeding it!

New quilt, new coat—don't even think about it! This is the red thread!

“Okay! Okay! Send the old ones! Old ones are fine too! Old cotton has more fibers, and it’ll be warmer!” Zhang Xiuying nodded repeatedly as if she had grasped the only straw, a faint light igniting in her cloudy eyes.

"As for food..."

Yang Yongkang's sharp gaze shifted to the two tempting jars of honey and the snow-white rice noodles on the table, then slowly swept over the anxious faces of his family members:
"It can be mailed out through the post office, but grain coupons are the real deal!"
With national grain coupons, they could legitimately buy food and grain at the local town's supply and marketing cooperative and grain station! This was the proper way!

"Yes! Grain coupons!"

Li Guihua's eyes suddenly lit up, as if a bolt of lightning had cleaved the chaos, and her voice rose sharply, carrying a sense of sudden enlightenment and urgency:

"We still need to find a way to get national grain coupons! If we can't mail them out, we'll find a way to send them over! Get them into their hands!"

Her mind raced, her shrewd and pragmatic nature fully activated in the crisis.

"Send it?" Yang Guanghui, who had been frowning and silent, finally looked up and thought about it. "Send it all the way to the Northeast by ourselves? The travel expenses are a bit high, and it takes a long time, but... it's a practical solution. It's just that it's not easy to get time off."

“We don’t necessarily have to deliver it ourselves!” Li Guihua immediately interjected, her mind racing, her eyes gleaming with calculation and a search for connections. “We can ask someone for help! We can find a reliable way!”

She leaned forward slightly, lowered her voice, and spoke with the excitement of sharing a secret:

"For example, are there any cadres or technicians in the factory who have gone on business trips to Northeast China? Or are there any people from Northeast China who have come to do sales and marketing? If all else fails, try to find out if there are any educated youth who have returned to Northeast China to visit relatives."

As long as the person is reliable and keeps their mouth shut, we can secretly ask someone to smuggle it over! We can give them a small tip or some rare item as a reward, and they'll definitely be willing!
certainly……"

(End of this chapter)