A century of poverty

Chapter 93 Beautiful Scenery

Su Zhiqian busied herself building the four rooms. Unlike her sister, she didn't live in two and sell the other two; instead, she sold all four rooms to a family from Hebei surnamed Yang.

The Yang family, including the parents, their youngest daughter Yang Liu, and their youngest son Yang Xing, lived in the two rooms on the east side. To be precise, the two rooms on the west side were bought by the eldest daughter and her husband with their own money. The couple had a boy who was not yet one year old.

The Yang family makes a living by making sofas, and their eldest daughter and her husband also follow suit.

The Jinhai Furniture Market is booming and is located near Qiaotou Village, so many carpenters in the village are engaged in this trade.

Su Zhiqian sold his house, took the money, and moved to Xingyou District.

Jinhai, known as the land of nine rivers and eighteen streams, is a veritable land of fish and rice. Its rice is famous throughout the country. In every ditch, ravine, depression, and pond, where there is water, there are fish.

In Qiaotou Village, located on the outskirts of the city, there is a group of people who make a living by fishing, and Su Zhiqiang is one of them. He uses a large bicycle inner tube cut open and glued together to form a boat shape, attaches a few pieces of nylon thread to hang the net, and carries it on a bicycle, going wherever he pleases. No matter the size of the river or pond, casting the net guarantees a catch. He's free and easy, without any worries or constraints. If he does well, he can sell his catch at the market for ten or twenty yuan. Zhiqiang dropped out of middle school and learned to weave nets and fish from his neighbors, making it his profession. His father retired and wanted him to take over the business, but he refused, preferring the freedom and the joy of catching fish.

A strong southwest wind in spring broke through the thick layer of ice. It was still quite cold in the mornings and evenings, so Zhiqiang packed up his boat net, paddleboard, boots, and shorts: "I'll go out tomorrow and see if the pit has opened up yet."

I said, "It's still frozen!"

Zhiqiang: "There are a few pits that face the sun and turn red early. If you go too late, you might get killed by someone else."

Around 2 PM, Zhiqiang rode his bike, carrying a boat, into the yard, fanning himself as he went. I went out to check. "Where are the fish?"

Without a word, he set up the cart, stopped the ladder, and carried a woven bag from the boat to the outer room: "Bring me the big basin!"

I quickly placed the large basin at his feet, and he loosened the bag opening with a "whoosh!" as he poured the water and fish into the basin. It turned out that there was another layer of leak-proof plastic bag inside the woven bag.

"This water isn't clear, let's change it with some clean water," I said, looking at the water in the basin.

Zhiqiang: "No, this is river water. If we change it to tap water, the fish will die quickly!"

"Oh!" I really don't understand.

At this moment, the old woman got off the kang (a heated brick bed) leaning on her stainless steel cane, stood beside the large basin, and tapped it with her cane: "It really worked! I got it the day before yesterday. Shall we take it to sell later?"

Zhiqiang responded with an "Mmm!"

I brought the rice, still warm in the pot, to the table behind the door: "Let's eat!" Zhiqiang came inside to eat. At this point, the table we shared served as both a dining table and a cupboard. After he finished eating, I washed the dishes and put them back on the table.

Zhiqiang: "It's time to go sell fish."

I responded with an "Ah!"

Zhiqiang: "Take the basin and the scale." After saying that, he went out to the yard and found some flexible strips. He put the fish basin, scale, and other items into the iron frame and then hung the frame on the back rack of the car.

Go!

I exclaimed in surprise, "I'm going to sell fish all by myself?"

Zhiqiang: "I'm exhausted after a long day, coming back from the South Wind Peak, I need to rest for a bit!"

I didn't know what to say, and I couldn't say anything. But I'd never sold fish before, and I didn't know how. I still had to push the cart out.

Arriving at the Changsheng Market, which is relatively close to my home, I usually see a few vegetable vendors along this roadside when I go out. Today, however, there weren't any vegetable vendors, only a petite woman about my age with a small basket of eggs in front of her. Seeing me push my cart over, she warmly greeted me, "Come on, put this here. Are these fish?"

"Yes!" I replied, and did as she instructed, placing the fish on the table. "This is my first time selling fish, how much are these?"

She said, "The price is set at one pound, and when someone wants to buy, they just weigh it!"

The woman was very talkative. After asking my husband and my names, she mentioned that her husband, Su Kewen, was also a fisherman. She said they lived on the front street and that by seniority she should call me "Fourth Aunt." She said that the eggs she caught during her postpartum period were too many to eat, so she sold them to earn some money. She talked about how hard life was. She added that her husband, a "lazybones," hadn't even finished setting up his nets yet, while her husband, Fourth Uncle, had already caught all the fish. She went on and on.

With her company, I felt much better. When she ran out of eggs, she helped me sell a pound of fish, told me how to skewer the fish with a spatula, and then rushed home to feed her child.

Practice makes perfect, and selling fish became my job. Sometimes, if I caught too little, I would stew the fish together in both the east and west rooms.

That day, Zhiqiang returned from fishing, and his mother-in-law sat on the kang (a heated brick bed) in the west room: "Don't take all the fish with you; leave two jin for your older brother!"

"Ah!" Zhiqiang replied, taking out two decent-looking pieces and setting them aside.

A few days later, I went to the market to sell fish. After setting up my stall, my sister-in-law pushed her cart over.

"You're off work, ma'am!" I greeted her.

"Ah—" She pushed her cart, stood in front of the stall, and watched me sort out the fish.

Pointing to the best pile: several juicy tuna, two river knives, and over a pound of large juicy catfish. "Skewer that pile for me," I said. I strung them together one by one, tied them up, and handed them to her. She took them, hung them on her handlebars, got on her bike, and rode away.

After the pond is opened, there are more than 20 days of good fishing time – when the pond is first opened, the water is low, and the fish are more likely to get caught.

Later on, when the paddy fields are irrigated and the ditches and pits are full, it becomes difficult to catch fish.

In over twenty days, I made more than two hundred yuan, and I was very content. I worked until my early twenties, and after I got married, the sale of chives and other vegetables all went to my parents.

Now we don't have to hand over the money from selling fish to anyone. We can manage it all ourselves, which is a very pleasant thing.

We took our ration book and went to the "Military Farmers' Grain Station" to buy some refined grains—rice and a few kilograms of flour—for a dozen yuan. We left the coarse grains in our ration book and didn't buy them.

I went to the "Coal Construction Company" again and bought a ton of coal powder with my coal coin for 29 yuan, which is enough to burn for more than half a year.

These necessities, enough for half a year, only cost a few dozen yuan, so life wasn't a burden for the two of us at all.

But there was still something unfulfilled in my heart. Every time I went to and from the "Zhanqian" market, I passed by the entrance of "Jinshan Radio and Television University." Every time, I couldn't help but peek inside until I could no longer see it. When I saw young people walking around inside, I imagined how wonderful it would be if I were one of them. Seeing the windows, I felt a surge of emotion. If I could sit in one of those windows and study, I would have no regrets in this life.

But I dared not tell anyone, because besides my parents, who else should support my education?

I have no job and no income. I seem to realize that I should have a job and the ability to live independently in order to do what I want to do; otherwise, I am unreliable.

When the rice seedlings in the fields close up the rows, it's the perfect time to hang fish.

Zhiqiang was happy, doing what he loved and being able to make a living.

One day, he excitedly said to me, "Want to go fishing with me today?"

Me: "If I go with you to hang fish, what can I do?"

He said, "You don't need to do anything. Just come and play with me and watch me catch fish." Seeing my hesitation, he continued, "It's not far, just on the Raoyang River. I'll ride my bike with the net on it, and you can walk there. When you get to the bridge, look downstream, and you'll see me. Then you can go down and find me."

I said, "Okay! Anyway, I don't have anything else to do today."

He rode away on his bike. I changed into my yellow rubber shoes and arrived at Raoyang Bridge in about ten minutes.

This is a railway bridge with gleaming steel rails running from the north, flanked by lush green rice paddies. A little over a kilometer to the south lies the "Jinhai Railway Station." The river beneath the bridge originates from a tributary of the Liao River, and the scenery on both banks is beautiful.

On either side of the steel rails were narrow pedestrian walkways, just wide enough for one person to pass at a time. Outside were guardrails, and every twenty or thirty meters there was a safety frame less than a meter high. I stood on the bridge, enjoying the breeze and the natural scenery.

Just then, a train whistle blew out, and a green passenger train approached from the north. I waited inside the safety box. As the train drew nearer and crossed the bridge, the sound of its wheels hitting the rails was deafening. I quickly covered my ears, and the bridge trembled along with me, a truly frightening experience.

As the train passed, I glanced back and saw the last carriage flash by, disappearing into the distance.

I lowered my hands and looked downstream. The Raoyang River makes a bend here and flows south.

The south bank of the river is lined with lush reeds and weeping willows. On the north bank, there are several rows of tall poplar trees, behind which are a mixed grove of locust and elm trees, and beyond that, a fishpond. The poplar trees extend to the riverbank, where a few meters wide embankment stands, its alkaline, loose soil covered with sparse reeds.

I went down the bridge and walked along the embankment through the reeds for about two hundred meters to reach the Zhiqiang fishing area.

When I got there, I shouted, "Where are you hanging it here?!"

He replied, "This is a sunny spot; fish love to stay here."

I asked, "Is it hanging there?"

He replied, "I'll hang a few up, just getting the network up and running once. I'll go and run around for a bit, then I'll come back up!"

"oh!"

I watched as he skillfully paddled the rubber boat forward, pushing it through the ripples, and I followed. When we reached the first net with two floats on the ground, he slapped the boat with the paddle, making a "bang-bang" sound, then splashed water several meters away. He passed the first net, repeating these actions every twenty or thirty meters, then the second, then the third, the fourth… After this whole routine, he returned to the starting point, paddled towards the bank, and put a few small fish into his pocket. Standing up, he stepped onto the riverbank, came up to where I was standing, and said, "Let's go gather some firewood and cook the fish."

I exclaimed in surprise, "Braised fish? Is that even edible?"

He said, "Yes! It smells amazing, so fragrant and delicious."

A little while later, he found some dry firewood, placed it under the earthen bank, took out a fish from his bag, slammed it on the ground a couple of times, put it on the firewood, and lit it with a lighter.

Me: "How can it taste good without salt?"

He said, "Just you wait and see!"

Soon the aroma wafted out, and he used a stick to pick up the fish and flip it over!

"That's about it," he said, picking up a fish with his chopsticks. "Here you go!"

I carefully took the fish. He picked one up himself and said, "Watch this!" He held the fish in his hand, easily peeled off the skin and threw it away, put the clean fish meat to his mouth, gently bit it, and then took out a piece of fish dirt and threw it away. He finished the grilled fish in no time.

I found it amusing and mimicked him, saying, "Mmm! It's delicious, even without salt."

"I'm not kidding you, if you put some rice in a lunchbox, cook it over a fire, it tastes completely different from homemade rice, it's so delicious!" Zhiqiang said excitedly.

I smiled and said, "Really?"

Zhiqiang: "It's true! One year, Old Li took my second son and me to fish. It was a long way and there was no one around, so that's how they ate."

"Ha! Ha! There's even a picnic." I couldn't help but laugh.

After chatting for a while, he said, "It's getting hot, you should go home."

I asked, "Aren't you hot?"

He said, "You can't compare to me. It's cooler in the water than on the shore. I have a good place to stay. If it gets hot, I'll go there." He pointed to the big willow tree on the south bank.

I looked in the direction he pointed, but I didn't quite understand.

He boarded the boat and rowed towards the south bank. My gaze followed him, and I saw willow trees growing towards the river, their canopies casting a shady shadow on the water. Zhiqiang rowed the boat into the shadow of the trees, pulled his legs up, put his hands under his head, and lay back on the small boat, leisurely and carefree, thoroughly enjoying himself.

At this moment, the wind and waves were calm, and swarms of dragonflies were flying lightly. Suddenly, a small silver fish leaped up from the bow of the boat, drew a beautiful arc, and then dived back into the water.

This scene is exactly as described: Dragonflies fly over the Raoyang River, and silver fish draw arcs on the ripples.

The boat is like a soft bed, lying on my back; the willow is like an umbrella, I have no desire to return home.