Chapter 82: Training in the Heat of Summer and the Chill of Winter

“Hey, old man, do you think we’ll be able to hold our grandchild soon?”
Mr. Li kept his eyes closed, silently repeating to himself: I’m already asleep, please don’t talk to me.
“When the time comes, I’ll stay home just to help them take care of the child.”
“I’ll definitely be a good mother-in-law and grandmother, let our son and daughter-in-law live their own lives. I’ll only help with the child, not meddle in their affairs.”
“You just—” Mrs. Fang glanced back at him and gave him a nudge. “Hey, old man, wake up.”
Mr. Li had already fallen asleep in seconds and was even starting to snore.
After all, apart from Li Sheng, he was the main labor force in the family; most of the dirtiest and hardest tasks fell to him every day.
He always fell asleep almost the moment he touched the bed.
Mrs. Fang looked on with both heartache and exasperation, but her words were sharp as ever: “What a lazy old man—doesn’t even care to talk to me, falls asleep so quickly?”
As time went on, Tang Xin truly began to feel the hardship of rural life—the smile on her face grew noticeably less frequent.
The reason was simple: it had started to snow, and the weather was growing colder by the day.
In her previous life, at least there were air conditioners and heaters, electric warmers and the like to ward off the winter chill.
But now, there was nothing at all, and Tang Xin’s constitution made her especially sensitive to the cold. Life became increasingly difficult.
Nights were manageable—her husband, still on leave, could warm the bed for her. But during the day, the cold was almost unbearable.
No matter how many layers she wore, these cotton jackets were nothing compared to the warmth of down coats in later years.
With the wind howling outside, Tang Xin felt as if she simply couldn’t go on like this.
At this time, her mother-in-law, Mrs. Fang, did her utmost to extol the virtues of country living, afraid her daughter-in-law might be unhappy:
“Actually, there are many things here better than in the city. If you want to eat meat, you can catch wild chickens or rabbits in the hills, or fish, shrimp, and shellfish in the river. In summer and autumn, there are wild fruits on the mountain. It’s just that winter, with the snow, can be a bit tough.”
Then Mrs. Fang added, “But don’t worry, daughter-in-law, the cold doesn’t last long here. It’s only especially harsh for a few days around the snowfall. In a whole year, there are just these few days of cold and rain.”
Tang Xin knew the truth, though—it was only slightly better these years. The famine that began in 1959 had been so severe that even people of later generations were shocked by its stories.
Everything from birds in the sky, beasts on the ground, to roots and weeds in the fields were dug up and eaten.
When it came to food, Tang Xin’s spirits lifted. She immediately looked up, her eyes shining as she gazed at Mrs. Fang, hoping she would tell her more.

Inspired by her daughter-in-law’s eager curiosity, Mrs. Fang’s words flowed like a river; she spoke at length about all manner of things.
Every place has its own unique ways of survival, and Tang Xin realized that her mother-in-law was an exceptionally interesting person.
No matter how hard life became, she was never beaten down by hardship; even in difficulty, she still retained an eye for beauty.
One willing to listen and one eager to speak—the two of them made a perfect pair.
Mrs. Fang described in detail what could be done in spring, summer, autumn, and winter, and all the fun and interesting ideas she had.
Tang Xin listened with great interest, wishing she could rush out to the hills and rivers right then and there. If not for the freezing weather, she would never have chosen to stay cooped up indoors all day.
Li Sheng had specially brought home a coal stove, which warmed the room somewhat when lit. But they worried the briquettes might be toxic, so didn’t dare leave it burning indoors for long.
Because it was so cold, Tang Xin lost interest in her usual pastimes, though the literacy lessons at home continued in an orderly fashion.
She had experienced the rigors of school life herself—summer heat or winter chill, one must pay the price for a good education.
Fortunately, though her students each had their quirks, they’d all fallen into a good routine and needed less of her attention now.
There were fewer chores for her as a result.
Li Sheng, though on leave, was not one to idle at home; even with less farm work in winter, he would still help his father with whatever needed doing.
He was out early and back late most days, but always returned home on time each night.
He was, in effect, her living hot-water bottle—without this human furnace beside her, Tang Xin doubted she could ever warm the bed by herself on cold nights.
Mrs. Fang peeked into the yard and saw the sun about to set, so she started preparing dinner.
In winter, meat was scarce, and even vegetables were limited to radishes and cabbage.
Fortunately, her eldest son had bought some pork earlier, which they’d stored away, and their daughter-in-law had contributed some preserved meats.
These past few months, the Li family’s standard of living was better than it had been in decades.
Mrs. Fang stewed dried mushrooms with lard, stir-fried shredded radish with extra oil, and the dishes were more fragrant than ever.
After dinner, with nothing else to do, Tang Xin crawled straight into the blankets, thinking there was nothing more delightful than whispering sweet nothings to her husband.
“Li Sheng, I noticed you were dressed a little thin today—aren’t you cold? Should I ask Mother to make you a new cotton jacket?”
Tang Xin was self-aware enough not to offer to make it herself.

Still, she could easily provide the fabric and cotton.
Li Sheng, exhausted from the day, lay in the warm bed with his beloved wife in his arms, thinking this life was as blissful as that of a celestial being.
“I’m not cold, don’t worry. If I were, I’d tell you.”
Tang Xin rubbed her cheek against his chin, then buried her head against his chest.
Those simple movements nearly drove Li Sheng to the edge of his self-control.
But this little temptress wasn’t finished with him yet—she continued to test his limits.
Li Sheng thought he should never have gone easy on her the night before. A man should pamper his woman and listen to her outside, but in bed, he should take charge and show his masculine prowess.
And so, that night, Li Sheng proved with his actions that not only was he not cold—he was burning up.
Tang Xin didn’t exactly dislike this method of staying warm, but the price was high; the next day, she didn’t get out of bed until the afternoon.
She also had to endure Li Xiyue’s thinly veiled teasing—truly intolerable!
Tang Xin decided that for the next few nights, she would not allow that wretched man into her bed—she’d sleep alone and be much more comfortable!
Yet when night fell, she tossed and turned alone for half an hour, and the quilt remained icy cold.
In the end, she gave in, and was promptly caught by Li Sheng, who was ready to get his revenge—he grilled his already limp wife like a salted fish.
Of course, to grill a fish well, both sides must be golden—the process required frequent turning.
At first, Tang Xin thought it was fine, as being held so tightly made her break out in a sweat and she forgot what it meant to feel cold.
But by the next morning, when she still couldn’t get out of bed, she realized just how “powerful” this method was.
Wuwu, that rotten man—how could he promise warmth and comfort during the day, but at night forget all about being gentle and considerate?