Chapter 007: Xie Yihuang’s Family

Xie Yihuang stretched lazily and wandered into the courtyard, where an old peach tree grew. Every spring, its branches were adorned with a cascade of peach blossoms, charming and radiant, and by late June or early July, peaches the size of an adult’s fist would ripen, dewy and luscious. This tree could be considered the most authentic old variety; the peaches enjoyed by later generations were all improved breeds.

Though the peaches from this tree were not as large as those in the future, they lacked nothing in juiciness or sweetness, and, at least for now, were free from the chemical treatments so common in later years. The peaches had long since been picked, but the tree remained leafy and lush—though not a perfect spot for shade. For that, Xie Yihuang preferred the back door.

By the back door stood a row of dawn redwoods, ten in all, planted by her father when he first married. They were nearly fifteen years old now, impressively tall and thriving. In this weather, with their dense shade, a temporary bamboo cot set out beneath the trees made the perfect place to recline in comfort.

Xie Yihuang thought that, despite the modest living conditions of this era, the environment was a blessing—no excessive freon to pollute the air, and the planet was not yet overheated. The cool comfort beneath the summer trees left her thoroughly satisfied.

Summers in this era made a trio of essentials: woven fans, ice pops, and watermelons. The ice pops were much simpler than the varieties of the future—just a handful of hard, icy flavors: plain sugar, lychee, red bean, mung bean, and one with a hint of milk. These five were the classic tastes of the 1980s.

The Xie family was not wealthy, but they were comfortably fed and clothed. Xie’s father worked as an electrician in the local food factory, earning sixty yuan a month. Her mother, a formal worker at the hardware factory, brought in forty-eight yuan. Together, their monthly income surpassed a hundred yuan, which was considered quite respectable in their area.

Xie’s parents had two daughters and a son. The eldest daughter and son were twins—Xie Yuanfeng, the elder sister, was born twenty minutes before her brother, Xie Yunfeng. These twins were five years older than Xie Yihuang and would begin middle school after the summer vacation; both had good grades.

At this time, middle school still required an entrance exam. The education system was structured as five years of elementary, two years of middle school, and two of high school. It would not be until 1983 that nine years of compulsory education would be introduced, shifting the system to six years of elementary, three of middle school, and three of high.

Xie Yihuang realized that, living her life anew, even her educational experience would change. It seemed she would be among the last cohorts under the old “5-2-2” system.

In this era, there was an acute shortage of talent in all fields. In her past life, Xie Yihuang had worked in a bank and gained some insight into the financial trends of the day, so she couldn’t help but ponder her options this time around—should she dive into private business, or seek a stable government job?

For now, she hadn’t decided. She knew her own temperament well—she preferred to avoid unnecessary trouble and was not one to compete fiercely.

“A-Yi, A-Yi!” That lively voice belonged to her twin sister, Xie Yuanfeng.

Yuanfeng’s temperament was much like their mother’s. Their mother’s surname was Qi, and it was said their ancestor was the famous general Qi Jiguang, whose indomitable spirit the family seemed to have inherited. Their mother had always been a brisk, forthright woman, and Yuanfeng took after her in both energy and impulsiveness.

“Weren’t you going to Sister A-Yuan’s house? Why are you back?” Schoolchildren in the countryside had summer break but little homework, so as long as they weren’t afraid of getting sunburned, the fields were filled with running children all day long.

Yuanfeng loved visiting her girlfriends across the lane to read comic books, while Yunfeng preferred scavenging for treasures on the beach with his mates.

But every afternoon after three-thirty, all the children would flock to the river like a gaggle of ducklings, splashing about, playing water games, and searching for freshwater mussels and snails.

The air was so fresh in those days—unlike the future, where, though the river might still exist, pollution meant no children would dare swim in it. Swimming would be confined to sterile gymnasiums, and so much of childhood joy would be lost.

“I finished my homework, and A-Yuan and I read comic books for half the day. I came back to get my swim ring—we’re going to the river to hunt for snails,” Yuanfeng explained. She was quite adept in the water.

Xie Yihuang’s eyes lit up. “I want to go too.”

“Then don’t forget your swim ring,” Yuanfeng replied. She had come to fetch her sister, as their mother had instructed her to look after the younger girl while at work, promising an ice pop as a reward if she did so.

“Alright,” Xie Yihuang agreed readily, though in truth she could swim quite well.

Their “swim rings” were not the colorful inflatable ones sold in stores, but patched and reinflated inner tubes from discarded car tires.

Yuanfeng and Yihuang’s swim rings were gifts from their uncle, Qi Jianhua, a retired soldier who now led the transport team in town. The old inner tubes weren’t free—he’d paid seventy cents apiece, spending a total of two yuan and ten cents for three, then had them patched by an old hand before gifting them to his nephews and nieces as swimming rings.

For country children, climbing hills and swimming in rivers was just part of life. All adults could do was let them run free, trusting they’d stay safe with such precautions.

Dressed in swim vests sewn by their mother, Yuanfeng and Yihuang each carried a swim ring and walked barefoot toward the river dock. Rural children never wore shoes to swim—it was too easy to lose them, and their house was barely ten meters from the river, so shoes were never necessary.

As soon as her foot touched the scorching stone path, Xie Yihuang let out a small yelp and quickly switched to the dirt at the side. Though still warm, it didn’t burn.

“Silly, you actually walked on the stone!” Yuanfeng teased.

Yihuang, clutching her swim ring, found it hard to explain that this was her first time experiencing such a thing. She simply said, “Mom and Dad always tell us not to walk barefoot on the stone, so I wanted to see what it felt like.”

“So you wanted to become a grilled frog, did you?” Yuanfeng joked, then called out to her best friend Xie Yuan across the way, and together, the girls headed off to swim.