Chapter 1652 - 1076: Heroine of the Republic 50

Chapter 1652: Chapter 1076: Heroine of the Republic 50

But aside from stewing pig liver porridge for him those first three days, the dishes after that were especially plain and coarse—dried autumn vegetables, wild greens soaked and chopped, mixed with the coarse grain at home to pinch into steamed cornbread, boiled potato and sweet potato, stewed cabbage and pickled cabbage, griddled flatbreads... anyway, what they ate was no different from ordinary folks.

Sometimes even when he smelled meat, once the food was served and there was no meat, he didn’t even know what excuse he could use to question her—after all, even this kind of rough, simple fare still tasted better than what he made for himself alone, thicker, more filling.

Take a bullet once and end up eating full meals—does that count as an unexpected windfall?

An Yi didn’t know his past days had been that bitter, because ever since she realized in those few days that he didn’t like her, she never went over unless it was necessary.

The first three days she still washed his face for him, after that she stopped; rinsing his mouth or washing his face, unless he took the initiative to ask, she absolutely wouldn’t.

Even when changing the dressing on his wound, she was no longer gentle. Sometimes when she touched a painful spot, even though he didn’t say anything, she could see his clenched jaw, the sweat beading on his forehead—those all showed he was gritting his teeth and enduring it. The reason he didn’t cry out loud was still about a man’s pride.

Heh, you reap what you sow.

If you had shown even a trace of gratitude beforehand, she wouldn’t be treating you like this.

And so more than half a month passed like that. With her bandaging and changing his medicine, his wound healed quickly, but his leg was fractured, not so easy to walk on.

Apart from the first few days, when people went door to door asking if anyone had seen a stranger and showed a sketch that didn’t really look like him while they asked, it never escalated to the point of searching homes. That gave them quite a scare. They even thought that if it really came to it, they’d move him down into the cellar. But who knew those people seemed to be just going through the motions—asked a few questions and left.

"How did you end up getting shot, just like that? They were looking for you, weren’t they?"

She had asked him this, but the only answers she got were eye-rolls and silence.

She didn’t force him to tell her, but with a man added to the household, she was all the more cautious going in and out.

Usually at home she taught, minded the children, cooked, did handwork. Because children grow fast, she had to compare against An Ran’s measurements from time to time to make new clothes for her.

As for Anna and Angel’s clothes, those were all made by herself. Because there wasn’t much cloth, most were things taken apart and washed. If the space could bring out old cloth, they would wash it clean and then patch together a set of cotton-padded jackets for themselves. Only by taking turns wearing them would they not look dirty, since taking things apart and washing them once was truly no simple task.

Women are born to love beauty; they couldn’t possibly wear just one color all winter. So they also hoped to change things up a bit. An Yi would often rummage around in the space at night after they were asleep. When she came across cloth that could still be used, she’d directly strip it off for them. Of course, each time before giving it to them, she had to take a walk outside and cook up some reason that could halfway pass.

She definitely couldn’t do this too often, otherwise it would make them form the wrong impression, as if she could always lay her hands on cloth whenever she wanted, good or bad, easily find some anytime. That habit couldn’t be nurtured, and they couldn’t be spoiled that way.

So in all these years living with An Yi, what sort of environment had she created for them?

For food, there were good days and bad days. The good was occasional; the "bad" was at least on par with what ordinary people usually ate. As for clothing, that was much harsher. Over the four seasons in a year, during spring and autumn they spent half the time wearing slightly thicker jackets and cotton-padded clothes. In deep winter they wore thick ones. Even in summer, the temperature difference between morning and night was big, so in the early mornings and evenings they wore the other half of the spring-and-autumn outfits—slightly thinner long-sleeved shirts and long pants.

She had never made brand-new clothes for the sisters; they were all picked out from the space, or else her own castoffs given to them. Of course, she herself was no exception, rarely bought anything new. Even if there was something new, it was underwear. On that point, the two children were no exception either.

In the material-scarce Fifties, each person could only get three chi six of cloth tickets for the year (about 1.1 meters). Sometimes a family needed to make clothes, and they might have to save up for a long time, or go find others to exchange for some. But usually almost no one exchanged their cloth tickets; whenever people got married or had children, heaven knew how many people they had to ask to scrape together enough tickets. It was really hard.

Luckily, An Yi didn’t have to worry about this. In that larger environment, when people simply couldn’t be picky about dress, it was enough just to aim for clean and neat. Whose clothes didn’t have a patch or two? Because everyone around was like that, even she would occasionally put something patched on, just to fit in.