A century of poverty

Chapter 122 is published!

When I got to the shop window, I saw that the window was boarded up. I didn't open the front door because it was closed for business.

As soon as I open the front door, people come in and ask all sorts of questions. I don't have time to deal with them yet. I step through the window, come to the front door, and pull the door open.

I took out my keys and opened the shop door. Descending the steps and entering the shop, a wave of emotion washed over me.

What a familiar little shop, what a familiar home! Although the windows are blocked and the interior is a bit dark, the counter, shelves, and goods are still the same as before.

Various goods, familiar smells. Usually, they don't seem to evoke any particular feeling, but today they feel so comforting, so indispensable.

I deeply sympathize with Zhiqiang's injury this time, as if I had lived two lives myself.

If we can't save them this time, what will all this familiar stuff look like?

Life is unpredictable and unpredictable.

I stroked the shelves and food that I wiped clean every day, never knowing they held such deep emotion. Every day, the three of us wandered around this tiny shop of about twenty square meters. If Zhiqiang didn't come back alive, how could I face all of this? I couldn't help but feel heartbroken.

Fortunately, Zhiqiang has recovered and will be back soon, and we will continue to run our home. Everything here will come back to life.

A moment later, I came to my senses. I walked around the room and didn't notice anything missing, nor were the goods disturbed. I checked the small box for money and saw that the loose change was less than usual, but it was still loose change, so the loss wasn't significant.

We swept away the ashes from the stove that had been burned through but not completely. Then we went to the cashier's counter to wipe away the dust and cleaned the area around the heater. This is how we usually behave.

When he learned I was back, my second brother, Su Zhiru, came over and said, "Look, nothing's missing! The lock on the gate in this yard was pried open, so I replaced it with a new one."

"Oh, I checked. Only some change is missing, nothing else is missing," I replied.

After my second brother left, I locked the door again and went to the main room to pack some of Zhiqiang's shirts and sweaters.

I changed into a cotton-padded coat and rushed to the hospital. I bought a small stool from a roadside stall and hung it on my backpack strap. My mood improved a lot at that moment.

When I arrived at the hospital, I gently pushed open the door and came in.

The family member of the patient in the next bed, whom I call Second Sister-in-law, was taken aback when she saw me: "It's you! I wouldn't have recognized you if you were outside." Her eyes were filled with amazement.

Zhiqiang was very happy to see me. I noticed he was in good spirits and asked him what had happened that day.

Zhiqiang told me, "That day, I came back to get the wine. When I opened the front door, I felt something was wrong. I thought I had forgotten to close it in my haste to leave, so I didn't pay much attention."

I went inside to get the liquor. After getting it, I turned back and saw a man crouching by the cigarette box, watching me. I knew something was wrong, so I grabbed his hand and pulled him to the phone to dial 110. Before the call connected, the man pulled out a knife and tried to stab me. I grabbed a beer bottle from beside me and smashed it at him. After that, I don't know what happened.

After hearing all this, I said, "Then we should report it to the police."

I called the village's "security chief" to explain the situation.

The next day, the criminal investigation team arrived at the hospital.

They asked Zhiqiang, and found that he was still struggling to speak even after speaking for a while.

I told them the truth about the situation.

Zhiqiang recovered quickly and was already able to get out of bed and walk. The doctor advised, "Give the patient plenty of nutritious food. He lost a lot of blood and didn't get enough replenishment, so he has to rely on his own blood production, which cannot be replaced by medication."

We were discharged from the hospital and returned home, and the sights and sounds of the surroundings stirred up memories.

Zhiqiang said, "That day, when I entered the house, he was squatting there. He was of medium height, sturdy, with a dark face and a fierce look. He didn't look like a good person at all!"

Zhiqiang pointed towards the cigarette boxes that were being stocked, and I hurried over to check.

"Looks like nothing's missing! Several packs of the more expensive cigarettes are still here," I said as I checked.

The students' winter vacation was over, and this morning I returned home after taking my child to school. The tax collector from the Industrial and Commercial Bureau came down to collect the fees. He went inside and stood at the doorway, writing out the slip: "It's time to pay this month's industrial and commercial fees!" he said, tearing off the slip.

I took the order and asked, "Which month's bill do you accept?"

The toll collector replied, "From last month."

I said, "We barely opened last month because he had an accident and was hospitalized. He just came back." I pointed to Zhiqiang sitting on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed).

The toll collector looked at the thin, pale Zhiqiang: "What accident? What happened?"

I recounted how my father-in-law passed away on New Year's Eve and how he was later injured and hospitalized.

He also told the cashier about the large amount of debt he had incurred due to Zhiqiang's hospitalization.

After hearing this, the toll collector said sympathetically, "Your business is usually trustworthy and does very well in all aspects. Since you didn't open last month, I'll go back and talk to my supervisor and see if you don't have to pay last month's fee. I'll also see if the Individual Income Tax Association can look into it and think of a solution for you. But don't get your hopes up too high."

A week later, the director of the local industrial and commercial bureau and the secretary-general of the individual business association visited our shop. After learning about our situation, they organized a fundraising campaign, raising several thousand yuan for us. They also visited us and offered their comfort, along with several representatives of individual business owners.

A few days later, Su Zhijuan brought over a newspaper and said it contained information about us.

Upon closer inspection, I found an article titled "Individual Business Owners Suffer Hardships, Industry and Commerce Association Shows Compassion." It also included photos of Zhang Chuangyi and several other representatives of individual business owners visiting them.

Zhiqiang read the newspaper several times. He said, "It's so honorable that Zhang Chuangyi and the others are in the newspaper; the whole city saw it. Newspapers are great; they even publish stories about ordinary people. Let's buy some newspapers and read them often."

I said, "Sure! Let's subscribe for a year, then we won't have to buy newspapers anymore, and they'll deliver them to our door every day."

The newspaper deliveryman who delivers newspapers to Qiaotou Village rides a "Postal" bicycle and passes by our shop every day. Zhiqiang waits for him at the door, invites him in, and asks about his newspaper subscription needs. He then subscribes to the "Jinhai Daily" and "Weekend" newspapers for the whole year.

Whenever we have time, the three of us—Zhiqiang—read the newspaper, the child reads children's books, and I read periodicals or classics.

Sometimes a customer would come in and see the three of us all holding books. They'd jokingly say, "Are all three of you taking college entrance exams? Studying all the time!"

That day, I saw a call for submissions in the weekend literary section. I tried writing a short essay of a few hundred words and sent it in. A few days later, I received a call from the editorial department of the Jinhai Daily. They said that my essay, "A Little Happiness," had been published and asked for my detailed address and contact number.

I hung up the phone, my heart pounding with excitement. I never imagined that my hobbies—reading and writing—would be published in the city newspaper. This was a huge encouragement for me.

I saw my short post on the weekend card, followed by praising comments.

Later, when a village committee member brought me a remittance slip for royalties, he said enviously, "I used to deliver remittance slips to people, and they were always children working away from home sending money home. This is the first time I've received a royalties slip like yours."

The child's martial arts training at the gym has been interrupted for more than a month.

Before the Spring Festival holiday, my child had already practiced splits, somersaults, and handsprings. Six months of consistent practice had become a habit. Every evening around 8 p.m., my child would practice these moves outside the window—because his father hadn't fully recovered, I had to focus on my business and daily life, so my child's martial arts training was still on hold.

That evening, Sun Pan, a physical education teacher at Qiaotou Elementary School, came to the store to buy cigarettes and inadvertently saw a set of movements performed by the children.

He said, "I just like to talk! Practicing martial arts is good; it strengthens the body and helps with self-defense, but there's one downside!"

I quickly asked, "What's wrong?"

Teacher Sun: "Practicing martial arts makes you grow shorter."

Me: "Really? How come I didn't know that!"

Teacher Sun: "If you don't do this, what do you know? I come from a sports school, and I don't even know this. Because of frequent training, the gaps between the joint cartilages widen, and growth slows down."

I asked with concern, "So, practicing martial arts will prevent you from growing to 1.8 meters tall?"

Teacher Sun: "It's difficult; being 1.7 meters tall is already quite good."

After Teacher Sun left, Zhiqiang and I discussed whether we should continue practicing.

I said, "In today's society, you don't necessarily have to rely on martial arts to make a living. If you don't grow to 1.8 meters tall, you might regret it. The child is still young, so the decision-making should be left to the adults."

Zhiqiang: "Then let's not practice. Boys who aren't tall enough don't look good standing there."

I said, "That's true, not going will save us some money. Let's not go!"

At the same time as before, I went to the gymnasium alone and told the coach that Su Zhangyuan would no longer be coming to practice.

In terms of academics, my child is very reassuring. As I ask, he completes his homework diligently and is often praised by his teachers.