Gu Shunhua had every reason to be thrilled.
In those days, everything—food, clothing, even toilet paper—required ration coupons. Coal was no exception.
Each neighborhood committee was assigned to a coal depot, which then served several storefront branches. Her alleyway had its own storefront, where every household received a coal ration book. With that book, they could buy a limited number of honeycomb briquettes—120 in the summer, 240 in the winter.
But once winter hit, the demand always exceeded supply. Most families were so frugal they wouldn’t dare burn coal at night. If they did, they risked running out before spring.
That was why, even with three rooms in the Gu household, they only lit one stove at night—just enough to warm the room before bed. By midnight, the briquettes were burnt out, and they’d have to shiver through the rest of the night. In the morning, they’d beg a neighbor for a fresh coal ball to restart the fire.
It wasn’t that honeycomb coal was expensive—just a few fen apiece (1 fen = 1/100 yuan)—but it was impossible to get. And that was the real problem.
So when Ren Jingnian had a whole ton of coal shipped in—through Gao Jun’s convoy, no less!—Gu Shunhua could barely contain her excitement.
And this wasn’t just any coal. This was top-grade lump coal, the real deal!
Lump coal and honeycomb briquettes weren’t the same thing. Honeycomb coal was made by grinding up lump coal, mixing it with yellow earth and stone powder, then pressing it into molds. The coal from Inner Mongolia was high quality. By ratio, a ton of lump coal could produce more than a thousand briquettes!
That meant it could heat four entire households through a Beijing winter.
If she and the children burned only 300 briquettes through the coldest months, she’d still have 700 left. She could share 50 briquettes with each household in the courtyard and still have 200 to give away as favors.
No one was living well these days, and coal was hard to come by. If you could gift someone 50 briquettes out of thin air, they’d return the favor tenfold.
Of course, she didn’t even need to process it herself—just hand out the lump coal and let each family figure it out.
Gu Shunhua was giddy with joy. She beamed into the phone. “Ren Jingnian, this was brilliant! With this, we can definitely build the house!”
Ren Jingnian laughed on the other end. “This is the first time you’ve ever praised me like that.”
She laughed too. “Well, I’m doing it now, aren’t I? Say the word and I’ll praise you till you’re floating!”
They both broke into laughter. All the past doubts and tensions seemed to melt away.
Ren Jingnian then updated her on his job transfer. He’d earned a Second-Class Merit in the army, so the state was giving him priority. It looked like he’d be placed at the Langfang Pipeline Bureau, with a solid salary—more than fifty yuan a month.
Gu Shunhua liked that even more. Life really was improving. Everything felt full of hope again.
“I sent you some books,” she said. “Make sure you study them properly, all right?”
“I will.”
“Do you still have enough money?”
“Yes, I just got paid. And when I officially transfer out, they’ll give me a relocation stipend. I’ll keep what I need for travel and living expenses, and send you the rest.”
“No need to send everything. The kids and I have enough. You need to hold onto some for yourself—for the move, for settling in Langfang. Travel rich, live frugal. Don’t leave yourself short.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got it handled.”
“Good. Try to wrap up the paperwork quickly. Once you get to Langfang, we can finally be together. Oh, and what about our furniture?”
There was a pause. Then Ren Jingnian said, “Sell it. We can’t bring it all the way across the country.”
She was a little reluctant, but what could she do? They were too far apart to transport it. “Okay. Sell it. When you get here, we’ll buy new.”
“I already spoke with Old Gao. He’s figuring out how to get us some timber. Might not be immediate, but he’ll try to piggyback it on a shipment when the timing’s right.”
“That’s great!”
“If you run into any trouble, you can talk to Lei Yongquan. I called him yesterday—he’s been busy since he got back home, but said he wants to get everyone together for a meal soon.”
Lei Yongquan had gone to Inner Mongolia with her as part of the zhiqing (educated youth) movement. He was generous back then—always sharing food, always helping.
The only issue was his messy romantic life. He’d hooked up with a local girl almost as soon as they arrived in Wuyuan, but broke up days later. Then he started seeing another girl, Chang Hui, one of the other zhiqing. They never got married—just lived together.
It wasn’t uncommon. A lot of people didn’t register their marriages out of fear that returning to the city would be harder. They figured they’d do it later—if they even could.
Thinking back, they’d all tried to warn her. But Shunhua hadn’t listened. Then she’d gotten pregnant, had the kids, and that was that.
Ren Jingnian said, “His grandfather was a decorated Red Army veteran. His parents were senior intellectuals. He might have suffered with us out there, but now that he’s back in the capital, he’s got all the right connections. If you need anything, reach out to him.”
“I know. I’ll go visit in a few days.”
She paused. “I should hang up now?”
Truth be told, she didn’t want to. She wanted to keep hearing his voice. But phone calls weren’t cheap—she had to be practical.
“Yeah,” said Ren Jingnian. “Let’s hang up.”
On the way back to the courtyard, Gu Shunhua practically floated. Her steps were light, her pace brisk. All her pressure seemed to have evaporated—she could see a bright future ahead.
Back at the compound, she stopped by Nanny Tong’s house first and told her everything.
Nanny Tong was so delighted, she nearly dropped her cat.
“This is fantastic! Get the coal in first, then I’ll help you take the lead on the house. No one will dare oppose you!”
After all, it didn’t hurt anyone. At worst, it robbed the Su family of their chance—but the Sus had been trying to take advantage of the Gu family for years. In the end, it was all about who had the guts and who had the face.
In the past, even the whole Gu family couldn’t overpower the Sus. They had to fight tooth and nail. But if Shunhua could get her hands on lump coal? That changed everything.
In times like this, the one who could get their hands on supplies was king. That’s who earned respect—and favors.
Shunhua thought the same. Before, she’d had to rely on pity—on sympathy for a poor mother and her children. Now, it was reciprocity.
It was already dusk. Just as everyone was getting off work, Shunhua went out to talk to the neighbors.
She ran into Qiao Xiuying, who was chattering happily with the others about a fresh batch of leftover pastry scraps being sold at the co-op—just one mao (ten cents) per bag.
Qiao Xiuying beamed, “They’ll be selling it tomorrow—better get ready to line up early!”
The crowd cheered. Real pastries were expensive and required coupons. Regular families couldn’t afford them. But leftover pastry scraps? Now those were a treasure—cheap, no coupons needed, and all about who got the tip-off first.
That’s why Qiao Xiuying held sway in the courtyard—she had intel.
People rushed to praise her—how capable she was, how promising her son was, how resourceful her husband. She smiled modestly, then leaned in to share some “important news.”
Normally, she wouldn’t mention pastry scraps to the whole courtyard—just whispered them to those she wanted to curry favor with. But today she was laying the groundwork.
She’d been eyeing the old earthquake shelter between her house and the Gu family’s for a while now. She wanted to expand her home into that spot. But with Shunhua back, she couldn’t be sure it would go smoothly.
So, she figured she’d butter everyone up first—earn some goodwill. Just plant the seed. Let it grow.
Just as she opened her mouth to speak, a voice rang out:
“Uncles and Aunties, I have something I’d like to discuss.”
Qiao Xiuying had to swallow her words as everyone turned to look.
Gu Shunhua stood there, smiling. “Everyone, could I have a moment? There’s a great opportunity I’d like to share.”
Qiao Xiuying’s smile tightened into something laced with sarcasm.
A great opportunity? A widow with two kids and not a cent to her name—what could she possibly offer?
She sneered, “Well, well. Sounds like something fell out of the sky for you!”
Gu Shunhua caught the barb but kept smiling. “No meat pies from the sky—but I do have some coal. It was delivered for me to use, and I think I might have a little left over. I’d like to share it with everyone.”
Coal?
Everyone froze for a moment, thinking they’d misheard. Coal? To share?
Qiao Xiuying laughed aloud. “Shunhua, your face doesn’t look sooty to me—when did you start running a coal plant? You really know how to tease us!”
Chen Cuiyue frowned. “Shunhua, what nonsense are you spouting? We’ve barely had enough coal to keep the kids warm. Now you’re saying you’ve got extra?”
Auntie Huo chimed in, “What’s gotten into her?”
But Shunhua had expected disbelief. The truck was already en route—it would arrive tomorrow. She had no time to waste. She needed help getting carts and haulers ready.
The coal couldn’t be sold openly—not with policies still unclear. But she could share it quietly with those close to her and earn goodwill.
She explained calmly, “Mom, I’m serious. The capital’s coal supply is tight right now. Datong and Yangquan mines are behind on their quotas. So they’re urgently pulling in coal from Inner Mongolia. A friend from my old mine is heading a convoy to deliver coal to the capital. He brought along a ton for me. The money’s already paid. It’ll arrive at Fengtai Station tomorrow. They can’t deliver it to our door, so we’ll need to go pick it up.”
Everyone went silent.
Then the questions came in a rush:
Who’s your friend?
What kind of coal?
When exactly is it arriving?
Shunhua answered patiently. More and more neighbors gathered, wrapped in coats, ignoring the cold—eager to hear more.
After explaining everything, she suggested that the courtyard select two people to help coordinate: one to arrange transportation and another to help manage coal distribution.
That way, the process wouldn’t turn into chaos.
Everyone agreed immediately. They chose Old Master Pan, the courtyard’s respected elder—his word carried weight. And Old Sixth Huo, a trustworthy man from the paper factory, known for his fairness.
The two were quickly recognized as team leaders. Everyone pledged to follow their direction and help haul coal as needed.
As the courtyard buzzed with excitement, Qiao Xiuying stood frozen—utterly blindsided.
She’d lost her chance.
She’d meant to bring up the land between their houses, but now? It was too late.
She tried again, “Since everyone’s here, I have something to—”
But before she could finish, Nanny Tong’s voice rang out cheerfully, “Now that’s a good child! Our Shunhua really knows how to care for her neighbors—bringing coal for us all. So generous and kind!”
The courtyard erupted in agreement.
And just like that, Qiao Xiuying’s words died in her throat. She chuckled awkwardly, glanced around, and slunk back to her room.
Wasted. That perfect opening—gone.
—————
By the time Gu Shunhua finished dinner, she saw Old Pan and Huo Laoliu arriving. In that short amount of time, they’d already managed to secure two mule carts.
That was the beauty of living in a shared courtyard compound: ten or so households, folks from all walks of life. There was nothing someone didn’t know how to do, and if you needed something, all it took was a word.
These mule carts belonged to the district’s food distribution depot. The depot stored goods for the local food company, and mule carts were used to deliver items to the various cooperatives. These carts often passed through the hutong, and over time, the cart drivers had become friendly with the older residents, often stopping to exchange gossip. Huo Laoliu had promised the drivers twenty coal briquettes in exchange for helping with this errand—no need to find anyone new, everything was already arranged.
Hearing this, Gu Shunhua was naturally pleased. It saved her a lot of trouble. They then discussed where to store the coal once it arrived, where to fetch yellow soil, and how to grind the coal into powder and shape it into briquettes. These were all laborious tasks, but when everyone pitched in, solutions came easily. After visiting a few households that evening, everything had basically been set.
Of course, a few households dropped some subtle hints—maybe they could pay Shunhua a little extra on top of the state factory’s price. After all, they didn’t feel right accepting it for free.
But everyone knew the truth—getting coal briquettes wasn’t about money. They were strictly rationed. Even if you had the cash, without connections, you simply couldn’t buy them.
To this, Gu Shunhua made her stance clear: a ton of coal cost only twenty-three yuan. If they could turn it into a thousand briquettes, that was 2.3 fen (about a dime’s worth of yuan) per briquette. If each household received fifty briquettes, that came to just 1.15 yuan.
“I’m not going to make money off any of you. I’m making my own batch of briquettes, and I’ll share the extras. The cart drivers helped us out, so we’ll pay them with coal. As for the yellow soil, we’ll haul that ourselves. All the miscellaneous costs are factored into the briquettes. I promise you, not a single extra fen will go into my pocket.”
She said this upfront to prevent any misunderstandings or gossip.
Privately, she’d thought it over—if this worked, maybe one day she could turn it into a side business. But not now. This first batch was to earn goodwill for the house she planned to build. Besides, the political winds weren’t clear yet. She had to guard against those waiting for a chance to report her.
Everyone applauded her words, praising her for her generosity and saying she was truly helping the whole compound.
In truth, Shunhua herself felt quite satisfied. She’d calculated it: if each family got fifty briquettes, she’d still have about two hundred left over. She could give fifty to Wang Xinrui’s family, and the rest could be used as goodwill gifts. If she ever needed help in the future, she wouldn’t feel awkward about asking. Give and take—that was how people got along.
As she mulled all this over, she kept busy, washing the kids’ thermal underclothes and heating water to wash their feet.
Gu Yuehua bounced around like a monkey, circling her cheerfully. “Sis! We agreed earlier—I’m going with the mule carts to pick up the coal tomorrow!”
To him, this was a big deal.
He’d missed the chance to be sent down to the countryside. He’d grown up in the capital, bursting with youthful energy, wishing the heavens would split open just so he could jump in and patch it up.
Now he finally had a chance to do something meaningful. It felt a lot more exciting than hauling coal for the state.
Gu Shunhua looked at his silly grin, half amused, half exasperated. Earlier, Old Pan had selected a few young men—Yongzi, Gu Yuehua, and a few others in the compound who were strong enough to help transport the coal. He’d also picked Guduor and Ningya to assist, keeping an eye on things and doing odds and ends.
She glanced at her brother. “Didn’t you say hauling coal briquettes was boring?”
Gu Yuehua replied, “It’s boring when it’s for the state. But hauling coal for our courtyard? That’s meaningful!”
She smiled and asked gently, “So… what are your plans for the future?”
Gu Yuehua stopped circling around Gu Shunhua like a monkey. Instead, he lay sprawled out on the bed, arms folded behind his head, legs raised and stretched out long as he played with the two kids, letting them use his legs like a slide.
Hearing her question, he gave Manman’s chubby cheek a gentle pinch and grinned, “Plans? What’s that—can you eat it?”
Gu Shunhua sighed with a helpless smile. “You’re not a kid anymore. Just wait, Mom’s going to start arranging blind dates for you. You’d better start thinking about the future!”
Gu Yuehua grinned, “Sis, what’s the point of thinking so hard? When the boat reaches the bridge, it’ll straighten out!”
But Gu Shunhua grew serious. “Now that the college entrance exam is reinstated, have you thought about trying it?”
The idea had actually come to her when she was buying books that day.
She herself had been sent to the countryside after junior high and never had a chance to go to high school. Eight years had passed—she barely remembered what she’d learned, and with two kids to care for, returning to her studies seemed near impossible.
But once she found stable work, she could still enroll in night school or a radio correspondence university, or even take the adult college entrance exam. She didn’t care whether the diploma came from a top-tier school or not—what mattered was learning and expanding her knowledge. Whatever she learned would be hers to keep.
As for Ren Jingnian—he was only a year older than her, but he’d started school early and even skipped a grade. By the time he joined the Inner Mongolia Corps at sixteen, he was already a high school graduate. His foundation was solid, and he’d have a fair shot at the college exams.
Then there was Gu Yuehua. Two years younger than her and lucky enough to have avoided being sent down. He’d even finished high school, and it hadn’t been long since he’d put down the books. Most of it was still fresh in his mind. He had a real chance.
Over the past few sleepless nights, she kept thinking about the book. In it, after her divorce from Yan Chongli, she had nothing—sick, alone, destitute—and it was her silly, kind-hearted little brother who’d done everything he could to raise money for her treatment. He’d begged everyone, lost his youthful pride, had all his sharp edges worn down by hardship. He worked on construction sites, his shoulders rubbed raw and bloody, never uttering a single complaint.
How could she bear to let him walk that path?
He might not have had much to his name, but he was her little brother—and he was someone worth cherishing.
But Gu Yuehua didn’t take any of it seriously. “Sis, what are you talking about? The college exam is so hard—I’d never pass. What’s the point in trying?”
At that, Gu Shunhua’s face hardened. “How do you know if you don’t even try? Look at you, lounging around all day like some carefree loafer. You’re over twenty! At least you finished high school. Why not give it a shot? If I’d been able to finish school, I’d register in a heartbeat!”
Gu Yuehua blinked, stunned by her sudden anger. “Sis, why are you so mad all of a sudden?”
She stood up and walked toward the front room. “Think about it. Do you want to give the exam a shot—or lie around like some entitled young master your whole life?”
He sat there, dumbfounded, watching her walk away—just as Manman, who had been sliding down his leg, slipped and fell right onto his chest.
“OWW—!!”
He cried out in pain. Tears welled up.
That little rascal had landed square on his chest. It really hurt!
Gu Shunhua heard the wail from the other room, but didn’t react. It wasn’t her son or daughter crying anyway. Her foolish brother? He deserved that—maybe a bit of pain would knock some sense into him.
Out front, she ran into Chen Cuiyue, who was carrying a bucket of dirty coal ash to dump.
Gu Shunhua stepped forward and took it. “I’ll do it.”
Her mother handed it over but grumbled, “You’d better plan those coal briquettes properly—save some for your uncle. You can’t just give it all to outsiders. He’s family, after all.”
Gu Shunhua replied, “Mom, you can’t think like that. I don’t play favorites. My priority is getting the house built. Giving everyone a few coal briquettes is part of that—exchanging coal for their signatures.”
Chen Cuiyue scowled, “And your uncle doesn’t count as a favor?”
Gu Shunhua’s voice was calm and cold. “My uncle owes me a favor. So let him build the house for me.”
“What?!”
But she didn’t explain. She picked up the bucket and walked out.
The next morning, Chen Cuiyue was still muttering. She said if her daughter wouldn’t give coal to her own family, she’d take her own stash and give it to them herself. Gu Quanfu, face dark, cut her off: “Since you’re so keen on wrecking things for us, don’t let me stop you.” That shut her up fast. She left for work with a sour face.
As for the coal pickup crew—they weren’t going to work that day. Instead, they went to find the two cart drivers, hitched up the mule carts, and headed off to Fengtai Station
Gu Shunhua, as always, left the kids with Granny Tong and went along.
Back in the courtyard, some of the jobless neighbors headed to the co-op. Everyone was still thinking about the coal, of course—but no one forgot the pastry scraps either. They rushed over, eager to buy some.
But when they got there, the line was long and winding. And just before it was their turn, the announcement came: Sold out.
No word on when the next batch would come.
Everyone grumbled—clearly the word had spread too widely. All that effort for nothing.
Qiao Xiuying, dressed and ready to go out, rolled her eyes. “Well, what do you expect? Everyone got distracted yesterday talking about coal. If they’d focused, they might’ve gotten some!”
Auntie Huo overheard and chuckled coldly. “That’s apples and oranges. Don’t mix the two.”
Qiao Xiuying felt embarrassed and irritated. Thinking of that matchmaking fiasco with the district co-op leader made her even more annoyed. She stormed off in a huff.
Meanwhile, at Fengtai, Gu Shunhua and the team stood by the road, scanning every truck. They’d been told the convoy would come this way.
But they waited… and waited. No sign of any trucks.
People began speculating—maybe it was delayed?
By sundown, the streets were filled with the rush-hour crowd, and still—nothing.
People grew anxious. “You sure you heard correctly?”
Gu Shunhua nodded. “That’s what he said on the phone. Let’s wait a bit longer. It’s a whole convoy—maybe something slowed them down.”
Old Master Pan nodded. “If they said they left, we’ll hear something eventually. Worst case, tomorrow.”
Everyone knew he was right. Still, they were cold and hungry. They’d barely eaten anything all day.
Shunhua offered to ride back with Guduo’er and Ningya to get some food for everyone. Old Pan agreed.
The three of them pedaled toward the courtyard, planning to grab roasted sweet potatoes and cornbread slices from home to bring back.
When they arrived, it was dinnertime. The courtyard was filled with the clatter of pots and pans, the scent of cooking, and the sound of kids playing. Even Manman and Duoduo were among them, running around.
The kids spotted her and ran up happily.
She hugged them quickly and rushed off to fetch the food, while Guduo’er and Ningya stopped by their homes to do the same.
Neighbors naturally asked what was happening, and when they heard the coal hadn’t arrived yet, Auntie Huo grew worried. “Let’s hope nothing went wrong. Should we come with you to check?”
More neighbors gathered. Everyone was concerned. What if the coal didn’t come?
Just then, Qiao Xiuying stepped out with a handful of sunflower seeds, handing them out. “Try these. Our commune got a batch today.”
Chewing, she turned to Gu Shunhua with a smirk. “So, the coal’s here? How come it hasn’t been brought into the courtyard?”
Shunhua recognized the glee in her eyes. She didn’t wish anyone well. Not worth engaging. Calmly, she said, “Auntie Qiao, if it turns out you’re short on coal, I’ll give you two pieces.”
So generous on the surface—but only two.
Qiao Xiuying snorted. “We don’t need it. I work at the co-op—we’re shoulder to shoulder with the coal depot. I’ve got my pick of the best stuff from Datong and Yangquan. Who needs Inner Mongolia coal?”
In Beijing, coal from Datong and Yangquan was prized—black, dense, high heat, expensive. Only well-off households could afford it.
Gu Shunhua replied with a light smile, “Ours is nothing special—just some Inner Mongolia coal. Just enough for personal use. Auntie Qiao, don’t laugh.”
“Oh, I’m not laughing. I just want to see it! I’ve never seen Inner Mongolia coal before.”
“You’ll see it soon. It’s not here yet.”
“Not yet? This late? Don’t tell me something went wrong?”
“Don’t worry. It’ll arrive.”
Guduo’er and Ningya couldn’t hold back anymore.
Guduo’er, ever blunt, said, “Let’s get moving. Maybe the truck’s there already!”
Ningya added with a smile, “Yes, once it arrives, there’ll be plenty of noise. Auntie Qiao, hope you don’t mind the racket.”
Their words were polite, but the edge was unmistakable.
As the girls rode off with Gu Shunhua, Qiao Xiuying’s face dropped. She muttered to herself, “I need to talk to Cuiyue. That girl needs discipline. Just look at her—completely out of line. What kind of woman brags about coal deliveries? The sun’s down, and still no coal. Ridiculous.”
A few of her friends murmured in agreement, but most remained quiet—some even deliberately avoided her.
After all, if Gu Shunhua really was sharing coal, they didn’t want to risk missing out. Good things were worth waiting for.
Qiao Xiuying, however, was fuming. Earlier that day, the district co-op official had asked her how the matchmaking plans were going, and she hadn’t known what to say. She’d ended up apologizing profusely. Judging by the man’s cold response, she could kiss any future job transfers goodbye.
Just then, Chen Cuiyue returned from the public latrine. Spotting her, Qiao Xiuying pounced.
“You’ve really got to rein your daughter in. Look at today—she’s got all the men running around for nothing. It’s almost dark and still no coal. Doesn’t that make her a laughingstock?”
Chen Cuiyue hadn’t been around earlier and was startled. “No coal?”
Qiao Xiuying’s eyes sparkled with glee as she handed out more sunflower seeds. “Exactly. Nothing! Not a lump. Looks like it was all hot air!”
People started murmuring, curious.
Meanwhile, as Gu Shunhua and the girls neared the alley, they suddenly heard the sound of hooves—clip-clop—and saw mule carts turning the corner!
Don’t be fooled by the alley’s narrowness—it was still wide enough for wagons. As the drivers carefully maneuvered the carts in, Yongzi and Gu Yuehua jumped off to help guide the turns.
From a distance, Guduo’er and Ningya saw the carts loaded high, covered in straw mats. The drivers’ faces were streaked with soot.
Their hearts leapt—it was here!
They’d been nervous after all the gossip, scared something had gone wrong. But here it was—the carts had made it back before they even returned to the courtyard!
Gu Yuehua was perched on one of the carts, singing cheerfully. Spotting his sister, he waved excitedly. “The coal’s here!”
Guduo’er whooped in delight, Ningya laughed out loud. “We’re saved!”
The group rushed to meet the carts. Each one held around 500 kilograms of coal. As they pulled back the straw mats, they saw coal bricks—black, gleaming.
Gu Shunhua’s eyes stung. She nearly cried.
This was the very coal from their mine—the authentic, hard-earned Inner Mongolia coal.
She could almost smell the wind beneath the Yin Mountains.
Author’s Note:
Coal was rationed under the planned economy, but there was no other way—after all, the male lead’s family lived right by the coal mine… One ton of coal might sound like a lot, but with a flatbed cart carrying 500 jin (about 250 kg) per trip, it only takes two carts. It’s perfectly manageable to “squeeze that out between the teeth,” so to speak.
As for why a flatbed cart can carry 500 kilograms in one go, it’s actually quite simple—let’s say an average adult man weighs 60 kg; a single cart can carry seven or eight adult men without issue, so 500 kg of coal isn’t a problem at all.