Chapter 3: Four Ledgers in Oilpaper

The ledger lay spread out on the table—four volumes, wrapped in oil paper. The accountant, a man named Accountant Sun in his forties, wore tortoiseshell glasses and tapped a thick, stubby finger against the paper.

"Su Wan, you read it out."

Su Wan opened the first volume; it was the work point ledger for the commune members. She scanned it from top to bottom, checking the entries one by one. Second Sister Liu sat nearby, clutching her cloth bundle, occasionally leaning in to take a peek.

"Eighth day of the twelfth lunar month, Su Jia San, recorded four work points." Su Wan finished reading and flipped to another book. "Here... Su Jia San, eighth day of the twelfth lunar month, recorded two work points."

She looked up at Accountant Sun.

Accountant Sun pushed up his glasses. "Mm, you saw it."

"It’s short by two points."

"It’s not short." Accountant Sun took the ledger and tapped a finger on the page. "She didn't go to work on the eighth, so it was recorded incorrectly. It should be crossed out."

"Crossed out?" Su Wan stared at the line. "The ink is fresh."

Accountant Sun’s expression didn't change. "It was re-recorded."

Second Sister Liu chimed in from the side, "I was with the team that day. Su Jia San was there. She went."

Accountant Sun glanced at Second Sister Liu, said nothing, and lowered his head to scribble a few notes in the book.

Just then, the door was pushed open. Zhou Hailong walked in, his cotton-padded jacket buttoned to the very top, his chin held high.

"Are you done checking the accounts?"

"Almost," Accountant Sun said.

Zhou Hailong didn't sit; he stood to the side, waiting. Su Wan didn't look up and continued checking.

"Eleventh day of the twelfth lunar month, Li Jia Da, six points." She flipped the page. "Here... Li Jia Da, six points. That’s correct. Twelfth day, Wang Jia Er, four points..."

She stopped when she reached the fifteenth day of the twelfth lunar month.

"Su Jia San, fifteenth day, ten points." She looked up. "On the fifteenth, the team was out repairing the irrigation canal. I was there."

"You were there?"

"I was," Su Wan said. "Ten points. This book also records ten points."

She flipped back to the first volume and pointed to another line. "In this one, for the fifteenth, Su Jia San is recorded for eight points."

Accountant Sun took the ledger to look, and his expression shifted slightly.

"This..."

"Short by two points again," Su Wan said.

Zhou Hailong spoke up from the side, "Su Wan, you’ve got a good memory."

"I scored eighty-seven on my math exam," Su Wan said. "I remember clearly."

Zhou Hailong’s mouth twitched, but he didn't respond.

Accountant Sun closed the ledger and thought for a moment. "These two entries were recorded incorrectly. I’ll make up the difference."

"Make it up?" Su Wan said. "You aren't making it up for me; you're making it up for Su Jia San."

Accountant Sun looked up at her. "Are you speaking for someone else?"

"I'm speaking for myself," Su Wan said. "Su Jia San is my third uncle. Those two points are what he’s owed."

Zhou Hailong snorted from the side. "You sure know how to count."

Su Wan ignored him, placed the two ledgers side-by-side, and flipped to the third—the collective supplies ledger.

"Ninth day of the twelfth lunar month, received two hundred jin of coal," she read. "Twentieth, received one hundred and fifty jin. Twenty-fourth, received..." She stopped. "On the twenty-fourth, the team was milling flour collectively; we should have received coal then, too. It’s not recorded here."

Accountant Sun took the ledger to flip through it again.

"Twenty-fourth... oh, it’s recorded on the second page." He flipped through. "Here it is."

Su Wan leaned in to look. The numbers matched.

"Alright, this one is correct."

She closed the ledger and said to Accountant Sun, "Accountant Sun, about those two points, can you fix them for us?"

Accountant Sun looked at Zhou Hailong.

Zhou Hailong said, "Fix what? A mistake is a mistake. We’ll correct it uniformly another day."

"Uniformly?" Su Wan stood up. "Grain distribution is on the twenty-eighth. Those two points are worth four and a half jin of grain. If you wait to correct it, my third uncle will be short four and a half jin of grain for the New Year."

Accountant Sun opened his mouth.

Zhou Hailong’s expression darkened. "Su Wan, don't push your luck."

"I'm not pushing my luck," Su Wan said. "I'm just checking the accounts."

Accountant Sun thought for a moment and said, "Hailong, about Su Jia San’s two points, I’ll fix them for her today. That’s the rule."

Zhou Hailong stared at Su Wan for a few seconds, then curled his lip. "Fine."

By the time they finished checking, the sun was already dipping below the horizon. Su Wan and Second Sister Liu walked out of the commune courtyard; the wind cut against their faces like a knife.

"Wan’er, how are you so sharp?" Second Sister Liu asked as they walked. "I looked at those books for ages and didn't see a thing."

"Accounts are just numbers," Su Wan said. "If the numbers don't add up, there’s a problem."

"Did you really score eighty-seven on a test before?"

"I did," Su Wan said. "The year of the college entrance exam, eighty-seven in math, seventy-three in Chinese, sixty-nine in English."

"Sixty-nine..." Second Sister Liu clicked her tongue. "That’s too low."

"I’m not good at English," Su Wan said. "I never liked memorizing vocabulary since I was a kid."

Second Sister Liu laughed and didn't ask again.

After walking over ten miles, it was almost dark. Su Wan turned into her courtyard; smoke was still rising from the kitchen. Her mother poked her head out. "Wan’er, you’re back?"

"I’m back," Su Wan said, setting down her bag. "The grain issue is settled."

Her mother’s expression changed. "What happened?"

"Nothing bad," Su Wan said. "The accounts were short two points, so I made them fix it."

Her mother sat back down by the stove, wiping her hands on her apron. "And Zhou Hailong..."

"He has no say in it," Su Wan said. "Accountant Sun fixed it."

Her mother breathed a sigh of relief and asked, "So... what are we eating today?"

"White flour." Su Wan pulled the half-bag of flour from her pack. "I also got brown sugar. Second Sister brought back two jin of pork."

"Pork?" Her mother’s eyes lit up.

"It was from the twentieth-day distribution. Second Sister said the team had two jin left over, so they gave it to us," Su Wan said. "We’ll have noodles tonight and steam buns tomorrow."

Her mother stood up, wiped her hands on her apron, and reached for the bag of flour.

"Wan’er," she called out.

"Yeah?"

"About your third uncle..."

"Second Sister told me," Su Wan said. "He went to work on the eighth and repaired the canal on the fifteenth. The books weren't complete, so I fixed them."

Her mother said nothing, poured the white flour into the jar, and scooped out half a ladle.

"Mom, you rest," Su Wan said. "I’ll cook the noodles."

Her mother sat back by the stove, watching her daughter work. The fire in the hearth cast a glow on Su Wan’s face, making it look rosy.

Su Wan boiled water, added the noodles, and chopped some cabbage leaves to throw in. When the noodles were ready, she served them in bowls and added a bit of sugar.

"Eat," she said, handing over a bowl.

Her mother took the bowl, took a sip, and hissed because it was hot.

"Slow down," Su Wan said.

"Is it spicy?" her mother asked.

"No."

"That’s good."

After dinner, Su Wan washed the bowls and tidied up the kitchen. Her mother was sitting in the main room and suddenly asked, "Wan’er, when you were little... you weren't very talkative, were you?"

"Mm," Su Wan said. "I didn't like to talk."

"Then why are you so talkative now?"

Su Wan smiled and didn't answer.

On the twenty-fifth, Su Wan went to work with the team. It wasn't light yet when she headed out with her dry rations. On the way, she ran into Wang Jia Er, who grinned when he saw her.

"Wan’er, I heard about yesterday."

"What about?"

"The commune audit," Wang Jia Er said. "You got those two points back for Su Jia San."

"Yeah."

"Impressive," Wang Jia Er said. "Zhou Hailong’s face looked like he’d swallowed a fly."

Su Wan smiled and didn't respond.

At the team site, Su Wan started her work. Today, it was hauling manure. The cart bumped along the ridge, and the stench wafted over, but she pinched her nose and hauled five loads.

During the noon break, Su Wan sat on the ridge eating her rations. Li Jia Da sat nearby and handed her a sweet potato.

"Here, my daughter roasted it."

Su Wan took it and took a bite.

"Li Jia Da," she said, "for your work points on the fifteenth, you were recorded for six, right?"

"Right."

"I checked for you; it’s not short," Su Wan said. "Most of Accountant Sun’s books are accurate."

Li Jia Da nodded. "That business with Su Jia San’s two points caused quite a stir."

"It wasn't a stir," Su Wan said. "It was a correction."

Li Jia Da glanced at her and smiled.

In the afternoon, Su Wan was hauling manure again. Zhou Hailong walked over from the ridge, his hands empty.

"Su Wan."

"Yeah." Su Wan didn't look up.

"Just do your work. Stop looking in my direction."

Su Wan looked up at him. "I wasn't looking."

"You were," Zhou Hailong said. "You know what you did, so don't get too cocky."

"I’m not cocky," Su Wan said, pushing the manure cart forward. "I’m working."

Zhou Hailong stood on the ridge, his hands in his jacket pockets, staring at her for a few seconds.

"Su Wan," he said, "aren't you cold wearing that?"

Su Wan looked down at herself—cotton jacket, black cloth pants, blue cloth shoes.

"Not cold," she said.

"That jacket of yours, you made it last year, right?" Zhou Hailong said. "Looks thin."

"It’s not thin," Su Wan said. "I stitched it."

Zhou Hailong snorted and walked away.

Su Wan lowered her head and kept hauling manure. She didn't catch the meaning behind Zhou Hailong’s words, nor did she think about it.

On the twenty-sixth, Su Wan went to the commune to collect the New Year ration coupons—grain, oil, cloth, and cotton coupons were all distributed by the commune. Accountant Sun was waiting in the office and handed her the coupon folder.

"Su Jia San’s two points have been fixed," Accountant Sun said. "The New Year coupons were calculated based on the new total."

Su Wan took the folder and flipped through it; there were two extra grain and oil coupons.

"Thank you, Accountant Sun."

"You're welcome." Accountant Sun pushed up his glasses. "Su Wan, in the future... if you have any issues, you can come find me. I’m the accountant; that’s my job."

"Okay," Su Wan said.

She walked out of the commune courtyard and headed home. Halfway there, she saw Zhou Hailong coming out from the east side of the courtyard, walking straight toward her.

"Zhou Hailong," Su Wan greeted him.

Zhou Hailong stopped and looked at her.

"Su Wan," he said, "that eighty-seven in math, were you bluffing?"

"No."

"And that sixty-nine in English, that was real too?"

"Real."

Zhou Hailong laughed. "Sixty-nine... your English is worse than mine."

"What did you get in English?"

"I didn't take it," Zhou Hailong said. "I don't do English."

Su Wan smiled, said nothing, and walked past him.

Zhou Hailong stood where he was, watching her back, his hands clenched inside his jacket pockets.

On the twenty-seventh, Su Wan was steaming buns at home. White steam rose from the steamer, and her mother was helping watch the fire.

"Wan’er," her mother said, "your third uncle said he wants to make you a pair of cotton shoes."

"No need," Su Wan said. "This pair is still wearable."

"You’re wearing this pair, and your heels are showing."

"They aren't."

"They are," her mother said. "I saw."

Su Wan looked down at her cotton shoes; sure enough, the heels were worn thin.

"Alright, then let him make them."

Her mother smiled, took a piece of blue cloth, and began measuring.

On the twenty-eighth, early morning. Su Wan was woken by a shout. Her mother was calling from outside the door: "Wan’er! Get up! Something happened!"

Su Wan got dressed and went out. Two people were standing in the courtyard—Second Sister Liu and Wang Jia Er’s wife.

"What happened?" Su Wan asked.

"Su Jia San," Second Sister Liu said. "Something happened to Su Jia San."

Su Wan’s heart tightened. "What?"

"The team says he didn't go to work on the eighth," Second Sister Liu said. "Someone saw him at home that day."

Su Wan froze.

"Who saw him?"

"Wang Jia Da," Wang Jia Er’s wife said. "Wang Jia Da said that on the eighth, he went to Su Jia San’s house to borrow tools and saw him chopping wood in the yard."

Su Wan stood still.

"Then..." her mother’s voice trembled nearby, "those two points..."

"If he didn't go to work on the eighth," Second Sister Liu said, "those points have to be deducted."

A thought flashed through Su Wan’s mind.

She turned and walked toward the gate.

"Where are you going?" her mother called out behind her.

"To find Su Jia San," Su Wan said.

She reached the gate, but her feet suddenly stopped.

Because in the yard—Su Jia San was squatting on the ground, clutching his head, motionless.

His wife was nearby, crying so hard she couldn't speak.

Su Wan walked over, squatted down, and pushed away the hands Su Jia San was using to cover his head.

"Third Uncle," she said, "look at me."

Su Jia San looked up, his eyes red, his lips trembling.

"The eighth," Su Wan said, "you went to work, didn't you?"

Su Jia San’s lips moved, but no sound came out.

"The eighth," Su Wan repeated, "you went to work, didn't you?"

Su Jia San finally spoke, his voice hoarse: "I... I went."

"Then how did Wang Jia Da see you at home?"

Su Jia San went silent.

Su Wan stood up and looked at Second Sister Liu and Wang Jia Er’s wife.

"On the eighth," she said, "Su Jia San went to work. Second Sister and I were at the team site, and he was there too."

Second Sister Liu nodded. "Right, he was there."

"Then why did Wang Jia Da say he saw Su Jia San at home?" Su Wan said. "Did Wang Jia Da go to work on the eighth?"

Wang Jia Er’s wife hesitated and didn't speak.

Second Sister Liu added, "Wang Jia Da asked for leave on the eighth, said he had a stomachache."

Su Wan looked at Wang Jia Er’s wife. "Wang Jia Da didn't work on the eighth, so how would he know if Su Jia San was at home?"

Wang Jia Er’s wife’s expression changed; she lowered her head and stayed silent.

Second Sister Liu grew anxious. "Wang Jia Da’s wife, say something!"

Wang Jia Er’s wife stood up abruptly and turned to leave.

Su Wan watched her back disappear at the end of the alley, then turned back to Su Jia San.

Su Jia San was still squatting on the ground, clutching his head, his shoulders shaking.

"Third Uncle," Su Wan said, "someone is trying to sabotage you."

Su Jia San looked up, his eyes rimmed with red.

"Who?" Su Wan asked.

Su Jia San didn't answer.

Su Wan stood up and walked out of the courtyard. She stood at the alley entrance, looking at the road leading to the commune, and suddenly felt a chill on the back of her neck.

She remembered what Zhou Hailong had said that day—"You know what you did, so don't get too cocky."

She remembered the look on Zhou Hailong’s face when Accountant Sun fixed those two points.

She remembered Zhou Hailong standing on the ridge, staring at her for several seconds.

The wind blew through the alley, flipping the corner of her jacket. Su Wan wrapped her jacket tighter and turned to walk back.

As she reached the courtyard gate, she heard someone call out behind her—

"Su Wan."

She turned.

Zhou Hailong was standing at the alley entrance, hands in his jacket pockets, a smile on his lips.

"Su Wan," he said, "I heard you put in a lot of effort for those two points of Su Jia San’s."

Su Wan didn't speak.

"I did the math for you," Zhou Hailong said. "The two points from the eighth are worth four and a half jin of grain. The two points from the fifteenth are also worth four and a half jin. Nine jin of grain in total."

"Why are you calculating this?" Su Wan asked.

Zhou Hailong smiled. "I’m just wondering what you’re after."

Su Wan looked at him, saying nothing.

Zhou Hailong took two steps forward, his voice dropping. "Su Wan, aren't you cold wearing that?"

Su Wan didn't answer.

"That jacket of yours, you made it last year, right?" Zhou Hailong said again. "Looks thin."

Su Wan suddenly realized something—Zhou Hailong wasn't concerned about her.

"Zhou Hailong," she said, "what are you trying to do?"

Zhou Hailong didn't answer and turned to walk away.

Su Wan stood at the alley entrance, the wind blowing into her jacket, making her shiver.

She suddenly remembered a line—in the Original Book, Zhou Hailong, to get revenge on her, had cut off her father’s medicine.

Her father’s medicine couldn't be interrupted.

Su Wan turned and headed back, her pace much faster than before. She pushed open the courtyard gate. Her mother was busy in the kitchen and, seeing her come in, asked, "What’s wrong?"

Su Wan didn't answer. She walked into the inner room and dug out a cloth bundle from the bottom of the cabinet—inside was her father’s medicine, with only three days' worth left.

She opened the bundle, counted them, and clutched them in her hand.

Three days.

She walked out of the inner room and looked back at the road leading to the commune. The wind was still blowing, and the alley was empty.

Zhou Hailong hadn't made his move yet. But he was already prepared.