Chapter 71: Eating Comes First
[Note: The first chapter of this volume is in the previous volume.]
The Mu family lived on the second floor of Building No. 2 in the Steel Factory’s family housing. Their apartment was only forty square meters.
This space had to be divided into five rooms: a tiny kitchen, a living room, a bedroom for Mu Aijun and Sun Yuhe, one room for the boys, and one for the girls. You can imagine how cramped it was.
There was no bathroom. If anyone needed to use the toilet, they had to go to the public one outside. It wasn’t too bad in good weather, but on rainy or snowy days, going to the toilet was suffering—especially at night, or during the hot summer when the toilets were stuffy, dirty, and reeked.
But back to the point.
Mu Aijun and Sun Yuhe had gone to work, and Mu Lanlan and Mu Hongtu were at school. None of them would be back until the evening.
At home, only Mu Hongbing, Mu Honghong, and Mu Xiuxiu were there.
The three of them stayed in their rooms, ignoring one another.
In three days, they were scheduled to be sent to the countryside. At the latest, the final list would be decided tomorrow.
Mu Lantu walked toward his room. He pushed the door, but it didn’t budge.
Mu Hongbing had locked it from the inside.
Mu Lantu raised his foot and kicked it.
The wooden door couldn’t withstand his bull-like strength—it crashed to the floor with a loud bang.
To make the most of their space, the boys and girls all slept on bunk beds.
Mu Lantu and Mu Hongtu shared a bunk—Lantu took the top, Hongtu the bottom.
Mu Hongbing had his own bunk. He slept on the lower bed, and the top was piled with his belongings. He had the most personal space.
Mu Lantu and Mu Hongtu’s things could only be stuffed under the bed.
Lantu, being the least favored, could only claim a small portion of the space.
Mu Hongbing ate well and had grown tall and strong—nearly 1.9 meters tall and weighing about 170 pounds, with thick, muscular arms and legs.
He was lying in bed, troubled and deep in thought, when the loud noise startled him. Seeing Mu Lantu, a flash of fear and guilt crossed his eyes before quickly vanishing.
“Mu Lantu! Are you looking for death?!”
He clenched his fists and stormed toward Lantu.
You couldn’t blame him for not taking Mu Lantu seriously. Lantu might be 1.8 meters tall, but he was rail-thin—his clothes hung on him like empty sacks. A gust of wind could blow him away.
Mu Lantu’s face was like ice as he raised his foot again.
Mu Hongbing flew into the air, slammed against the wall, and screamed in pain.
“Son of a b****!”
Still stunned, he gritted his teeth, pushed himself up, and charged at Lantu again, both fists raised, eyes bulging with rage, nostrils flaring.
“Go to hell!”
Mu Lantu didn’t even look at him. He sidestepped, ducked behind Hongbing, and kicked him out of the room.
Hongbing crashed into a chair, his nose hitting the armrest. Blood gushed immediately.
“Ughhh…” Hongbing stared wide-eyed, letting out a meaningless grunt. Just a little more—just a little—and it would’ve been his eye. If it had been his eye, he would’ve gone blind, wouldn’t he?
He scrambled up in a panic. He was truly frightened now. His eyes filled with dread as he looked at Mu Lantu.
Was this the long-suffering one finally snapping?
Mu Honghong and Mu Xiuxiu peeked out from their room, saw what happened, and quickly withdrew.
Mu Lantu frowned at the fallen door, propped it up casually to block the view from outside, then pulled a tattered fertilizer bag from under the bed and dug out a clean set of clothes.
He also took off his wet shoes and changed into another pair of cloth shoes.
The cloth shoes had a big hole at the toe, but at least they were dry.
After changing, he kicked the door panel aside and went to sit in the living room.
Mu Hongbing backed away from him instinctively.
“Mu Xiuxiu, come out.”
The girls’ room door stayed shut—no sound from inside.
Mu Lantu raised his voice. “Mu Xiuxiu, come out! Don’t make me beat you. Don’t understand what ‘beat you’ means? Don’t make me show you.”
The door slowly opened to reveal a pale, skinny face—delicate and timid.
“Brother, what is it?”
Mu Lantu ordered coldly, “I’m hungry. Make food.”
Mu Xiuxiu summoned some courage. “Brother, you know the kitchen cupboard is locked. I don’t have the key.”
Mu Lantu remembered. During this era, every person had a limited grain ration, so every household was frugal.
The Mu family was no exception.
Sun Yuhe and Mu Aijun only ate breakfast and dinner at home. Lunch was at the factory cafeteria. Before leaving in the morning, Sun Yuhe would take out just enough food for lunch and lock the rest in the cupboard. She was the only one with the key.
Mu Lantu went into the kitchen and smashed the cupboard open with his fist.
“There. Done.”
Mu Xiuxiu and Mu Hongbing stared at him in shock and disbelief.
Has he gone mad?
Inside the cupboard, there was rice, flour, and a bag of dried noodles—not much, but around three to five jin (1.5–2.5 kg). There were also a few potatoes, two cucumbers, a bowl of eggs, and a bowl of cured meat—maybe five or six eggs in total.
“Hurry. Cook a pot of rice, stir-fry the cured meat with potatoes, and do cucumber and scrambled eggs.”
Mu Xiuxiu swallowed hard. “I don’t dare. If Dad and Mom find out, they’ll beat me.”
“What are you afraid of? If anyone gets beaten, it’ll be me. My patience is limited.” Mu Lantu narrowed his eyes at her.
“…Okay.” Xiuxiu avoided his gaze and walked into the kitchen. She’d just stolen some of Lantu’s money and was feeling guilty.
Hearing the commotion, Mu Honghong came out and glared at Mu Lantu hatefully but didn’t say anything—afraid of being hit.
Usually, lunch was made by Honghong and Xiuxiu in turns, though Xiuxiu did it more often.
She moved efficiently and cooked well. Soon, a big pot of rice and two heaping plates of food were ready.
Only two hours had passed since lunch, but Mu Hongbing, Honghong, and Xiuxiu all felt hungry again. Partly because they hadn’t eaten their fill, and partly because the aroma stirred their appetites.
When Mu Lantu came out holding chopsticks, the three of them rushed into the kitchen, then came out with their own bowls and chopsticks, sitting around the table.
But before they could act, Mu Lantu placed the entire pot of rice in front of himself and dumped both plates of food into it, calmly began eating.
Mu Honghong screamed and lunged at him. “Mu Lantu, what are you doing?!” Her eggs! Her meat!
Mu Hongbing and Xiuxiu glared angrily. They wanted to eat too!
Xiuxiu seethed. Because Lantu had said he’d take responsibility, she’d cooked a large batch of rice and used up all the eggs and meat, even adding a lot of oil, just to get a share. Who would’ve thought Lantu would pull this?!
“Brother—how can you eat alone? Hongbing and Honghong haven’t eaten yet!”
Mu Lantu waved the screaming Honghong aside and quickly devoured the entire pot of food. The gnawing hunger in his stomach finally eased.
He kindly reminded them, “If you want to eat, just cook more.”
Mu Hongbing turned to Xiuxiu. “Make another batch!”
Xiuxiu burst into tears.
Honghong, realizing what had happened, rushed into the kitchen—and screamed again.
“Aaaaah! Mu Xiuxiu, go die! You used up all the meat and eggs?!”
Mu Hongbing threw down his chopsticks and stormed back to his room.
Mu Lantu, now full and sleepy, also returned to his room, climbed into bed, and closed his eyes.
Mu Hongbing stared at him, fuming.
Mu Lantu’s head slowly leaned down from the upper bunk. His pitch-black eyes stared unblinking at Hongbing.
“Keep staring, and I’ll dig your eyeballs out.”
Mu Hongbing shut his eyes tight in terror.
[Host, don’t you think your temper has gotten much worse lately?]
005 spoke cautiously, but got no response.
Around 6 p.m., the sound of Mu Aijun and Sun Yuhe chatting and laughing came from outside.
Mu Hongbing and Mu Honghong ran out immediately, with Xiuxiu right behind.
Mu Aijun had ordinary looks but was neat and tidy. He wore gray-white overalls, a pen in his chest pocket, and semi-new glasses on his nose—he looked cultured.
Sun Yuhe, though already forty, looked barely over thirty. She had a delicate face, arched brows, fair skin, lipstick, and a bright red scarf around her neck. When she looked at Mu Aijun, she always smiled tenderly and enchantingly.
When she saw the cold stove in the kitchen, her smile vanished.
“Xiuxiu, why didn’t you cook? Are you feeling unwell?”
Hongbing and Honghong spoke over each other:
“Mom! Mu Lantu hit me! Today, he—”
“Mom! Mu Lantu’s gone crazy! He smashed the—”
This wasn’t the first time this scene had played out, but for the first time, Mu Aijun felt uneasy.
It seemed every time Hongbing and Honghong saw him and Sun Yuhe appear together, they’d first call “Mom”—but neither of them were his children.
After marrying Sun Yuhe, she’d said Hongbing and Honghong would treat him like their own father, and even changed their surnames. But not being blood meant something.
Mu Aijun glanced over at Mu Hongtu and Mu Lanlan.
They were both quietly doing homework.
“Dad! Mom!”
Mu Aijun smiled with satisfaction. Maybe he was overthinking. These two were well-raised by Yuhe.
Sun Yuhe, getting a headache from the bickering, raised her hand to stop them. “You two—one at a time. I can’t hear anything clearly.”
Mu Lantu woke up from the noise.
The rain had stopped.
He took a clean towel and a bottle of water from the system space and washed his face. Once the arguing died down, he went outside.
Everyone turned to look at him.
Sun Yuhe gently said, “Lantu, your brother and sister say you smashed the kitchen cupboard. I won’t just take their word for it. I want to hear your side. Can you tell me what happened?”
Mu Lantu walked over to Mu Aijun.
“Dad, tomorrow is the last day to sign up for going to the countryside. When will you take me to the glass factory to hand over my job?”
Hongbing and Honghong immediately looked toward Sun Yuhe, desperate.
Xiuxiu squeezed over and clung to Mu Aijun’s arm. “Daddy, aren’t I your favorite daughter? Give the spot to me, okay? I’ll give you and Mom all my wages every month!”
Sun Yuhe secretly gave Hongbing and Honghong a look.
“Lantu, you’re old enough to understand things now. Don’t make it hard for your father. Flesh from both the palm and back of the hand is still flesh—he can’t bear to choose. Give him some more time to think it over. There’s still time tomorrow. Let’s talk then.”
