60s: I have a store

Chapter 558 Mobilization Meeting before Autumn Harvest
The early morning sunlight shines through the wooden lattice windows of the classroom, slanting onto the desks of Zhoujiazhuang School.

Xie Yumei was standing on the podium, looking at the expectant eyes of more than thirty children in front of her, and a warm feeling surged in her heart.

She gently opened the textbook and started today's math class: "Classmates, today we are going to learn fractions..."

Before he finished speaking, there was a commotion in the back of the classroom.

Tiger Boy was playing a trick on his deskmate again and put a caterpillar on his desk.

The frightened little girl burst into tears and the classroom became chaotic in an instant.

Xie Yumei frowned, but didn't get angry immediately.

She walked down the platform and came to Hu Wa, who lowered his head, expecting to be criticized.

"Hu Wa, why are you doing this?" Xie Yumei squatted down and asked softly.

Tiger Boy stammered, "I...I just wanted to tease her."

Xie Yumei touched his head and said, "But this will scare and make your classmates sad, right? If someone treats you like this, will you be happy?"

Hu Wa shook his head, his eyes reddened. Under Xie Yumei's guidance, Hu Wa apologized to his deskmate, and the two children reconciled.

After this incident, Xie Yumei discovered that although these children were naughty, they all had pure and kind hearts.

She began to insert some interesting stories and games into the classroom to make learning less boring.

When teaching geometry, she led the children to draw huge circles and squares with branches on the playground. When teaching Chinese texts, she would let the children read aloud in different roles, turning the classroom into a small stage.

Gradually, the children liked Teacher Xie's class more and more.

Every morning, children would come to school early and give her a bouquet of dewy wild flowers or a handful of homemade sweet potatoes.

Xie Yumei put wild flowers in a clay pot in the classroom and distributed sweet potatoes to everyone to eat. The entire campus was filled with laughter.

One day, the sky was suddenly covered with dark clouds and thunder rumbled.

The raindrops as big as beans fell down with a crackling sound, and the children were all panicked.

Xie Yumei quickly organized everyone to hide in the corner of the classroom and gently comforted the frightened children.

At this time, she found that Xiaobao was trembling all over and hugging her tightly.

It turned out that Xiaobao had been afraid of thunder since he was a child. Xie Yumei held Xiaobao in her arms, told him stories softly, and hummed nursery rhymes.

In her warm embrace, Xiaobao gradually calmed down, and the other children were no longer so scared.

After the rain stopped, Xie Yumei took the children out of the classroom.

A lot of water accumulated on the playground, forming small puddles.

The children excitedly stepped around in the puddles, splashing water.

Xie Yumei also joined them, laughing and making noises with the children.

At this time, Zhou Yimin happened to come to the school to check the situation and saw this joyful scene from a distance.

Seeing Xie Yumei getting along well with the children, Zhou Yimin smiled with relief.

Once, he was worried that Xie Yumei, a city girl, would not be able to adapt to the countryside and would be bullied.

But now, he saw that Xie Yumei had not only fully integrated into Zhoujiazhuang, but had also become the children's favorite teacher.

With her wisdom and love, she brought new vitality to this small campus.

Zhou Yimin stood outside the classroom, watching Xie Yumei patiently tutoring several children who had difficulty learning.

As she explained, she drew pictures on paper with a focused and gentle look. The children also listened very carefully and asked questions from time to time.

At this moment, Zhou Yimin knew that Xie Yumei had truly become an indispensable part of Zhoujiazhuang.

As the days go by, Xie Yumei's life at Zhoujiazhuang School is fulfilling and happy.

She not only taught the children knowledge, but also taught them how to be a good person. Under her influence, the children became more sensible and loved learning more.

Zhou Yimin also completely put aside his worries. With such an excellent teacher like Xie Yumei, it seemed that his choice at that time was right. Otherwise, the village would have lost an excellent teacher.

In the hot July, the wheat fields in Zhoujiazhuang are like golden waves on fire. The heavy wheat ears bend the stalks. The morning breeze blows by, and the rustling sound carries the fragrance of wheat across the earthen courtyard.

Xie Yumei stood at the door of the classroom, watching the children running excitedly towards the fields with their homemade cloth backpacks on their backs, not even noticing that the corners of their clothes were stained with grass debris.

This was the seventeenth day since she came to Zhoujiazhuang. The blue cloth shirt on the clothesline was brittle from the sun and gradually became stained with the smoke from the wood stove.

On the way home from school, Xiaobao skipped across the ridge of the field and suddenly pointed at the wheat: "Sister, what is this? It looks so good!"

As he said this, he wanted to break it and play with it.

When Xie Yumei saw this, she quickly stopped him: "Xiaobao, this is wheat, an important food for us, not for playing with."

Although Xiaobao didn't quite understand, his sister said that this was not for playing, so he didn't check it.

Xie Yumei, who was preparing lessons late at night, was awakened by the croaking of frogs outside the window. The flame of the kerosene lamp suddenly shook violently - this is a common sign of power outages in the city.

She subconsciously reached for a match, but saw the moonlight shining through the glass, making the textbook glow. In the distance, she heard the sound of a tractor finishing work.

It was not until the next day that I found out that the small hydropower station built by Zhoujiazhuang was hidden in the back mountain. The reservoir made of bluestone was like a piece of jade embedded in the dense forest, which was enough to provide electricity for the entire village day and night.

"Thank you, teacher. Come and try it!" During the break, Chuntao squeezed into the classroom with an enamel jar filled with tender yellow locust flower honey. "This is freshly harvested from the beehives in the back mountain. Drink it with water to reduce internal heat!"

The women would always find ways to stuff things into her hands, such as dried wild mushrooms, freshly picked green beans, and even hard-boiled eggs wrapped in floral cloth.

One time, she insisted on helping in the kitchen, but Aunt Zhao pushed and coaxed her out of the kitchen: "No! Teaching your child to read is more valuable than anything else!"

In the threshing ground, Zhou Zhiming was directing the young people to debug the thresher.

The wooden shell was hot from the sun, and the sound of the gears meshing made the eardrums numb.

Three days before the wheat harvest, the hoarse voice of the old branch secretary suddenly rang out from the loudspeaker at the entrance of the village: "Attention all members! We will hold a production mobilization meeting tonight!"

The threshing ground was crowded with people in the twilight. Men rolled up their trouser legs, women held sleepy children in their arms, and even the children from the school brought their small stools and sat in the front row.

The old Party secretary stood on the dirt platform with a jujube wood cane, and the kerosene lamp stretched his shadow very long: "The wheat is growing well this year, but the neighboring villages are rushing to harvest, so we have to rely on ourselves!"

There was no other way. Zhoujiazhuang had originally invited people to come and work, but since everyone was rushing to harvest wheat during this period, they all returned to their own villages to help.

There were not enough people to harvest wheat in Zhoujiazhuang, so the feed processing plant had to be shut down first and resume work after the wheat was harvested.

This was the only solution. The day for slaughtering pigs was set on the day before the wheat harvest.

Soon it was the day before wheat harvest. As soon as the loudspeaker at the entrance of the village announced that a pig would be slaughtered as a reward for everyone before the wheat harvest, the pig farm became lively.

Zhou Cheng put the shiny butcher knife on his waist. His canvas apron was still stained with dark red marks from last year's butchering. He squinted his eyes and looked at the fat and strong white pigs in the pen. His Adam's apple moved: "I'll pick the 300-jin one!"

Six or seven young men rolled up their sleeves and wrapped the hemp rope around their palms twice. The white pig seemed to sense danger, making muffled "snorts" from its nose and splashing mud with its hooves.

"Stop the two men on the east! Pull the tail on the west!" Zhou Cheng gave an order and everyone pounced on the pigpen like tigers.

The white pig twisted its body wildly, the mud and water on its mane flew everywhere, and its fangs almost brushed against Aqiang's arm.

"Hold your head! Quick!" Zhou Cheng shouted.

Erzhu and Dafu held the pig's head tightly, and their shoulders were hurt by the pig's rubbing against them.

The white pig let out a deafening howl, and the sound scared away the sparrows in the treetops.

Zhou Cheng seized the opportunity, grabbed the pig's ears, used the force to climb onto the pig's back, and clamped his legs around the pig's body like an iron clamp.

The other guys took the opportunity to hold the pig's legs, and everyone worked together to lift the white pig onto the slaughtering board that had been prepared long ago.

The chopping board is made of old elm wood. Its surface has been polished to a shine over the years, and traces of coagulated pig blood from previous years still remain in the grooves.

The hemp rope quickly wrapped around the pig's four hooves, and Zhou Cheng fixed the pig's body tightly, even tying its tail so that it could not move.

"Sorry for the offense!" Zhou Cheng muttered, and suddenly pulled out the butcher knife.

The blade gleamed coldly in the sunlight. The white pig seemed to have sensed the end. It struggled desperately and let out a desperate roar from its throat.

Zhou Cheng held the pig's chin with his left hand, held the knife with his right hand, and accurately stabbed the pig's carotid artery.

Warm blood gushed out like a fountain, and fell into the clay basin below with a "plop". The dark red liquid splashed in the basin, forming blood flowers.

The white pig twitched violently for a few times, then gradually became motionless, its limbs drooping limply, with only its tail still trembling slightly.

"Hurry up and collect the blood! Don't spill it!" Aunt Zhao rushed over with a wooden spoon and directed the women to stir the pig's blood evenly and sprinkle salt on it.

The big iron pot not far away had already been burning fiercely, and the boiling water was emitting white mist.

The men worked together to lift the pig into the big pot and poured boiling hot water on the pig, causing its hair to instantly become soft.

Zhou Cheng held an iron scraper in his hand and with a few "swishes", the white pig skin was revealed.

The shaved white pig was hung upside down on the beam. Zhou Cheng stood on a bench and started to cut it up with a sharp knife in hand.

The moment the knife blade cut open the pig's belly, hot air carrying the fishy smell of internal organs hit me in the face.

He was very skilled. He first took out the still slightly beating pig heart, then removed the fat and lean pork belly, the shiny lard, and the tender pink pig liver one by one. His movements were smooth and fluid, as if he was completing a work of art.

"Turn the pig intestines over and wash them thoroughly!" Zhou Cheng instructed while cutting the ribs.

Several women responded by rubbing the pig intestines repeatedly in clean water and sprinkling them with wood ash to remove the fishy smell.

The pig bladder was blown up and tied to a bamboo pole and became a toy for the children, swaying in the sun.

As the sun sets, the chopping board is piled high with cuts of pork: the tenderloin is bright red, the fat is as glittering as jade, and the ribs are neatly stacked into a small hill.

Zhou Cheng wiped the sweat off his forehead and looked at his "work" with a satisfied smile.

The air was filled with the rich aroma of meat, attracting all the dogs in the village to gather outside the fence, staring eagerly with their tongues sticking out.

Dusk enveloped Zhoujiazhuang like a veil. In the open space in front of the dining hall, more than twenty eight-person tables had already been set up. A kerosene lamp was lit on each table, and the aroma of meat wafted in the dim light.

Xie Yumei stood outside the crowd holding Xiaobao. This was her second time attending a large banquet in the village. The excitement of the wedding banquet more than ten days ago had not yet faded from her memory. At this moment, the rich aroma of meat lingering around her nose made her stomach growl again.

"Teacher Xie, please take a seat!" Chun Tao was sharp-eyed and pulled her arm to the main table. "I've reserved a seat for you today!"

Xiaobao's eyes had long been attracted by the braised pork on the table. The pieces of meat were piled up like a small mountain, and the amber skin was wrapped in oily soup, shining tremblingly under the light.

Xiulan sat next to Xie Yumei and was putting some fried golden pork lard into Xiaobao's bowl: "Try it, the lard is so crispy!"

In fact, Xiulan still admires Xie Yumei very much. A woman actually kept groping in an unfamiliar environment, although Zhou Yimin contributed a lot to this.

She has been married to Zhoujiazhuang for some time and knows the status of Zhou Yimin in the hearts of the villagers of Zhoujiazhuang. Xiulan also feels that her original decision was right.

Although we still have to work in Zhoujiazhuang, we can have a full meal every day, which is unimaginable in the shelter.

The old Party secretary walked to a higher place and cleared his throat. The light of the kerosene lamp cast a deep shadow on his face. "Fellow villagers! The wheat is growing well this year. This pig was raised by everyone's hard work. Let's eat it to our heart's content! But let me be frank—"

He slammed his pipe on the stone table. "If you want to drink, wait until the wheat harvest is over and you can drink as much as you want! If you have to go to the fields tomorrow, don't drink a drop of alcohol!"

A knowing laugh broke out among the crowd, and several young men secretly withdrew their hands that were reaching for the wine jar.

After all, the old branch secretary is still very authoritative in the village. Many people want to have a few drinks while enjoying the delicious food, but since the old branch secretary has spoken, everyone can only think about it.

If you want to drink, you have to wait until the autumn harvest is over.

Zhou Cheng walked in wearing an apron stained with blood, carrying a bowl of steaming pig blood tofu.

The white and tender tofu cubes are soaked in red oil soup, sprinkled with green chopped green onions and crispy fried soybeans, the aroma instantly overshadows the braised pork.

"Make way! Make way!" He spoke in a loud voice and the crowd automatically made way.

Hu Wa tiptoed over and said, "Uncle Zhou, can I have a taste first?" This made everyone around him laugh.

Xie Yumei took a bite of the braised pork in the bowl. The pork skin melted in her mouth, and the sauce was rich and mellow. The taste spreading on her tongue reminded her of the delicious food she could only eat during the Chinese New Year when she was a child.

Xiao Bao held the enamel bowl and ate with his mouth full of oil. From time to time, he would grab the corner of Xie Yumei's clothes with his oily hands: "Sister, this meat is more delicious than candy!"

She smiled and wiped the child's mouth, her eyes swept across the table - Erzhu was picking up meat for Xiulan, Chuntao and Ahu were picking up food for each other, even Zhou Zhiming, who was usually the most serious, was grinning.

I don't know who started singing "The East is Red".

The old branch secretary clapped his hands to keep the rhythm, and his hoarse voice mixed with the clear singing of the young people.

Xie Yumei held Xiaobao, who was gradually becoming sleepy, and hummed along softly.

When the moonlight climbed up to the eaves, the atmosphere in the dining hall reached its climax. Someone suggested singing folk songs. Several girls and boys stood up and sang one after another. The lyrics were full of anticipation for a good harvest and yearning for a better life.

As the night deepened, the banquet gradually came to an end.

(End of this chapter)