Chapter 16: The Influential Figure Delivers the Military Coat Late at Night

In the latter half of the night, the wind carried snowflakes, tapping against the paper window like gentle scratches from fingernails. Su Yao adjusted the kerosene lamp to a brighter glow, exhaling warm breath as she rubbed her numb hands. The pencil lines on the blueprint trembled slightly.

Spread out on the table was a revised diagram of the assembly line for the canning factory, with pencil shavings piled into small mounds. The old clock in the corner chimed twice softly. The breathing of three children rose and fell in the silence. Lu Shihan, restless in sleep, had her little foot stretched out from under the quilt, red from the cold.

Su Yao set down her pencil and tiptoed over to cover her properly. Just as she turned away, a faint creak sounded outside the courtyard gate, as if someone was stepping on a pile of firewood covered with snow.

Her heart tightened. She grabbed the shoulder pole behind the door and held her breath. The village had been unsettled recently; just a few days ago, Er Zhuzi’s chickens were stolen. Secretary Li was leading militia patrols every night.

“Knock, knock, knock.”

The knocks were soft, three times, evenly spaced—not like a thief. Su Yao gripped the pole tightly and lowered her voice to ask, “Who is it?”

“It’s me.”

Lu Zhanye’s voice came through the door, hoarse from the snowy night. Relief flooded Su Yao’s heart, though her hands still trembled as she hurried to unlatch the door.

The door creaked open slightly, and a cold wind swept in with snowflakes, causing the lamp’s flame to flicker. Lu Zhanye stood in the snow outside, his army green cotton jacket dusted with white snow, frost clinging to his eyelashes, as if he had emerged from a snowdrift.

“So late, why are you here?” Su Yao stepped aside to let him in, her nose reddened from the cold.

He didn’t move, instead pulling out a neatly folded army coat from his chest pocket. The deep blue fabric glowed softly in the snowy light, its red collar insignia still pristine, clearly unworn.

“The base issued new ones,” he said, voice muffled, eyes fixed on the snow at his feet. “You’re drawing blueprints at night and must be cold. Wear this—it’ll keep you warm.”

Su Yao paused, her fingers brushing against something hard inside the coat. She squeezed it gently. Lu Zhanye’s ears flushed red, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “There’s a pack of candy in the pocket, for the children.”

She hugged the coat to her chest; it felt heavy and still carried his warmth. Only then did she notice his own jacket’s cuffs were worn through, revealing patched cotton batting inside.

“Why don’t you wear it yourself?” Su Yao’s voice caught. A few days ago, Widow Wang had said that when the army issued these new cotton coats, Lu Zhanye always saved them for the village’s welfare recipients.

“I’m not cold,” Lu Zhanye stepped back slightly, snow crunching beneath his feet. “I’m used to standing guard. I can endure the cold.”

The old locust tree in the courtyard groaned in the wind, swirling snowflakes drifting down to settle on their shoulders. Neither spoke; only the sound of falling snow and the occasional murmurs of the children inside filled the air. The army coat in Su Yao’s arms was so warm it burned. She glanced up secretly, noticing the frost melting into tiny droplets on Lu Zhanye’s eyelashes, sliding down his nose.

“Uncle Lu, come inside and warm yourself!”

A small head peeked through the window crack. Lu Xingchen held a little horse lantern, its light casting a flickering shadow on the wall. Lu Shihan and Lu Yuxuan rubbed their eyes, following behind. The three children pressed against the window, curious.

Lu Zhanye came back to himself, scratching the back of his head with a shy smile. “No, I still have work to do.” He paused, lowering his voice. “I’m leaving for the army tomorrow.”

Su Yao tightened her hold on the coat, feeling a hollow space inside. She knew he was a soldier and that returning to duty was inevitable, but hearing it out loud still felt heavy.

“When will you leave?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Early morning,” he said, looking toward the road. “There’s a mission. I’ll probably be gone for a while.”

“Then… be careful on the road,” Su Yao said, unsure what else to say. He had helped so much these days; now that he was truly leaving, her heart felt empty.

Lu Zhanye nodded, turning to leave, but his coat’s hem was tugged by Lu Shihan. The little girl had somehow slipped outside, bundled in a thick cotton jacket, a round little ball of warmth.

“Uncle, will you come back?” she asked, looking up with shining eyes. “I still want you to watch me dance.”

Lu Zhanye bent down and lifted her up, his rough palm gently stroking her head. “I will come back. When I do, I’ll bring candy for you.”

“Pinkie promise!” Lu Shihan extended her tiny finger.

“Pinkie promise.” His large hand hooked with hers, softening his features.

Passing Lu Shihan back to Su Yao, he looked at Lu Xingchen and Lu Yuxuan. “Listen to your mother at home. Study hard.”

“Okay!” The two boys nodded earnestly.

Lu Zhanye glanced at Su Yao one last time without another word, then turned into the vast night. His figure grew smaller in the snow, the green cotton jacket like a leaf slowly blending into the white background.

Su Yao stood at the door holding the army coat, watching until his silhouette disappeared. Then she noticed a bright green leaf stuck to the coat’s hem—the rapeseed leaf she had planted during the day, dusted with snow and soil.

“Mom, did Uncle leave?” Lu Xingchen tugged her sleeve.

“Yes, he left.” Su Yao sniffed and led the children inside. As she closed the door, her eyes suddenly grew warm.

Back inside, Lu Shihan pulled the pack of fruit candies from the coat pocket, peeled one, and popped it into her mouth, mumbling, “Mom, Uncle’s candy is so sweet.”

Su Yao took a candy herself, the sweet fruity flavor spreading across her tongue, though her heart felt a little bitter. She spread the army coat over the kang bed-stove; the deep blue fabric shimmered under the lamp light, thick and soft to the touch.

“This coat’s so warm,” Lu Yuxuan pressed his face against it, eyes closed in comfort.

“When I made your new cotton jackets, I used fabric just as good,” Su Yao smiled but her fingers lingered on the red collar insignia. Remembering Lu Zhanye’s frostbitten ears and worn sleeves, a sharp ache scratched at her heart.

That night, Su Yao’s sleep was restless. Just before dawn, she quietly got up, folded the army coat neatly beside her bed, then found her saved fabric coupons and money, slipping them into the coat’s pocket.

The next morning, the snow had stopped. The sun shone brightly, dazzling the white landscape. Just as Su Yao finished breakfast, she heard a car starting outside. Rushing to the door, she saw the commune’s jeep parked by the roadside, Lu Zhanye bending to speak with Secretary Li.

“Mom, it’s Uncle Lu!” Lu Shihan shouted, running forward.

Lu Zhanye heard the call and turned to smile at them. Su Yao stepped up and handed him the army coat. “Take this with you—the army’s cold.”

“It’s for you. You keep it,” Lu Zhanye pushed it back.

“I’m not cold, and the children have cotton coats.” Su Yao insisted, pressing the coat into his arms. “The fabric coupons and money are in the pocket. Use them to buy a new one.”

His hand hesitated, then took the items and tucked them into his bag. “Well... I’m off now.”

“Okay.” Su Yao nodded, watching him get into the jeep.

The jeep started, and Lu Zhanye leaned out the window, waving. The three children waved back, shouting, “Goodbye, Uncle!”

The vehicle grew smaller into a black dot, disappearing at the end of the road. Su Yao stood in the snow until it was completely out of sight, then turned to lead the children home.

“Mom, will Uncle come back?” Lu Xingchen asked quietly.

“He will,” Su Yao stroked his head. “He said he’d come back and bring you candy.”

Back inside, Su Yao carefully folded the army coat and placed it deep inside the cabinet. Looking at the blueprints spread across the table, a surge of strength filled her. He was defending the country in the army; she would run the village, making life better, waiting for his return to show him a more prosperous cooperative and a livelier village.

In the days that followed, Su Yao grew even busier. Equipment for the canning factory arrived piece by piece, and she spent every day on the construction site, installing and debugging alongside the workers. The villagers were full of enthusiasm—Er Zhuzi volunteered to be the factory manager, Widow Wang led a few women in washing vegetables, and Old Li kept the accounts. Everyone had a role.

Lu Xingchen helped out after school, handing wrenches and rags like a little grown-up. Lu Yuxuan became fascinated with arithmetic, carrying an abacus daily to calculate the factory’s expenses and earnings. Lu Shihan was the most carefree, learning embroidery from Widow Wang, saying she wanted to stitch a sachet for Uncle Lu.

One evening, just returning from the site, Su Yao saw the commune’s messenger cycling up, holding a letter.

“Comrade Su Yao, a letter from the army,” the messenger said with a smile, handing it over.

Su Yao’s heart pounded. She quickly took it. The handwriting on the envelope was bold and strong—Lu Zhanye’s script. She gripped the letter, fingers trembling.

“Mom, whose letter is that?” Lu Shihan asked curiously.

“It’s... from Uncle Lu,” Su Yao’s voice was faint as she eagerly tore open the envelope.

Inside, only a few short lines: “All is well, don’t worry. Are the children behaving? If the factory has any trouble, contact Secretary Li. Enclosed: candy coupons for the children.”

Tucked below the note were several brand-new candy coupons, neatly trimmed.

Su Yao read the letter over and over, warmth filling her heart. She handed the coupons to Lu Shihan. “Look, Uncle sent candy coupons.”

“Wonderful!” The children cheered.

That night, Su Yao lay in bed gazing at the moon outside, still clutching the letter. The faint scent of ink on the paper seemed to carry Lu Zhanye’s presence—sunlight and fresh grass mingled in the air.

She recalled that snowy night when he stood at the door, frost on his lashes, the army coat he gave her burning with warmth. She thought of his turning back, the rapeseed leaf caught on his coat’s hem.

Carefully, Su Yao slipped the letter under her pillow, a small smile playing on her lips. She knew that no matter how far he went, he would remember this little village, the people, the life here.

And she would wait—watching over her three children, nurturing this increasingly flourishing home, until he returned.

Days passed. The canning factory finally began full operation. The first batch of tomato cans was ready, and the whole village came to sample. The golden broth and sweet-tart fruit were far better than those sold by the supply and marketing cooperative.

Secretary Li, holding a can, smiled broadly. “Su Zhiqing, you really are the great contributor of our commune! These cans will surely sell for a good price!”

“We owe thanks to everyone’s help,” Su Yao replied with a smile, though in her heart she wished Lu Zhanye were here—he would have loved them too.

At day’s end, passing by the vegetable patch, Su Yao saw the rapeseed growing lush and green. Remembering the leaf caught on his coat, she plucked one and gently rubbed it in her hand.

“Mom, what are you looking at?” Lu Xingchen asked, approaching.

“Nothing,” Su Yao smiled, tossing the leaf away. “Come on, let’s go home. I’ll make you tomato and egg noodles, using our own canned tomatoes.”

“Yay!” The children cheered, running toward home.

Su Yao followed behind, watching their shadows stretch long in the sunset, her heart full of hope. No matter how many storms may come, as long as the family is together, with hopes and dreams, life would only grow better.

And the one far away surely thought of this place, of all that belonged here.