Chapter 12: Refusing to Do the Laundry
958 Words
Back in the kitchen, Mei Qingjiu first washed the raspberries clean. The fish soup beside her was ready, its milky-white broth bubbling with heat. With just a few drops of sesame oil added, the aroma was rich and enticing—even without scallions, ginger, or garlic.
There was little left in the kitchen beyond basic seasonings like oil, salt, soy sauce, and vinegar. Mei Qingjiu stared at the stove, thinking: she needed to get some vegetables, and preferably scallions, ginger, and garlic too. Maybe even stock up on some grains. That way, she could whip up small meals for herself and her three younger brothers, far better than just scraping by.
Vegetables were easy enough to get, but grains weren’t just about money—they required ration tickets. She quietly resolved to find a chance to make a trip into the county town soon.
With a plan in mind, she didn’t linger and went to bed early. She’d need to be up bright and early for work tomorrow.
——
At the first light of dawn, the Mei family household was already bustling—except for Mei Xiuhua, who was still in bed. It was the peak of spring planting, and in the village, people typically got up early to squeeze in some work before breakfast.
Mei Qingjiu washed her face and rinsed her mouth, then headed off with Zhang Caifeng and others to the brigade headquarters to get their assignments.
Before becoming part of the People’s Commune, the Honghe Production Team was known as Honghe Village. The brigade headquarters, located at the eastern edge of the village, served as the team’s central hub. The accountant, the women’s director, the granary, warehouses, pigpens, and cowsheds were all based there. Out front was a threshing ground where the team held grain-processing activities and large meetings.
Her younger brothers, the Mei boys, were regularly assigned to tend cattle—an arrangement made by the team as a gesture of care. They would take the cows out to graze, then deliver them to the fields for plowing. Once the fields were done, they’d bring the cattle back.
But Mei Qingjiu wasn’t so lucky. Today, she and Zhang Caifeng were assigned to plant peanuts on the western slope. After receiving peanut seeds and hoes from the deputy team leader, they headed out to the dry fields.
Honghe was located in the central-eastern region of Z Country, near the Yuhe River. The area had ample rainfall, and most of the farmland was paddy fields used for growing summer rice and winter wheat. Only the western part had dry land for crops like peanuts and soybeans.
Though she had grown up in the city and had never done farm work, she’d inherited a good deal of the original host’s memories. She knew the basics—digging holes, spacing them out, dropping in seeds.
The work was hard and exhausting, but manageable. The only problem was how quickly she got hungry. By midmorning, her stomach was already rumbling. So, when the loudspeaker blared the signal for a break, she slung the hoe over her shoulder and bolted for home.
She had barely reached the courtyard gate when she heard Mei Xiuhua shouting from inside the house.
“i***t! Wash these clothes for me! And you’d better scrub those oil stains out, or I’ll beat you!”
Her tone was sharp, domineering, full of entitled contempt.
“Who are you planning to beat?”
A cold voice cut through the air like a blade. Mei Qingjiu planted her hoe into the ground with a loud clang, her eyes like steel as she stared Mei Xiuhua down.
Mei Xiuhua flinched, startled, then snapped back, “What are you yelling for? You act like a madwoman! Everyone’s out working—someone has to wash the clothes, don’t they? He’s just sitting around anyway. What’s wrong with him helping out a bit?”
She was talking about Mei Cong, the six-year-old boy. In rural families, kids his age weren’t expected to work the fields but could help wash clothes or feed the chickens and ducks.
But that wasn’t the real issue.
Mei Qingjiu’s expression turned icy as she stepped forward.
“You didn’t even wash your face this morning. You’ve still got sleep crust in your eyes. Don’t tell me you even went to work. And now you think you can boss around a six-year-old like he’s your maid?”
She bent down, grabbed the greasy clothes off the ground, and flung them straight into Mei Xiuhua’s face.
“Take them back!”
Her voice was like frost: “There’s something I forgot to say yesterday, so let me make it clear now. From today on, you wash your own damn clothes. If you don’t, then don’t wear them. And if I ever catch you making Xiao Cong wash for you again—or even hear about it—I’ll rip every last piece to shreds. Don’t think I won’t.”
The courtyard fell into dead silence. Even the wind seemed to pause for a breath.
Mei Cong peeked from the corner of the house, his wide eyes filled with both fear and wonder.
It was the first time he’d seen this side of his sister—not the silent, dull girl people called “slow,” but someone who stood tall and fierce, someone who could fight for him, someone who felt like family.
Mei Xiuhua’s face turned ashen. She opened her mouth, but not a single word came out.
She never imagined that the girl she used to trample over so easily would one day strike back—fast and mercilessly.
——
This wasn’t yielding.
This was Mei Qingjiu’s declaration:
Her time had come.
- Writer
