Chapter 1337 – A Sense of Strangeness
Dai Yan returned with three food trays, disappeared again, and came back some time later wearing a mysterious expression.
"Mom, drink this!"
Mrs. Dai accepted the bottle her daughter presented as though it were a sacred relic. She shook it gently, studying the white liquid within—then suddenly realized it was glass. Her hand trembled, and she nearly let it slip from her grasp.
"Girl, what on earth is this?"
"It's called milk. The cafeteria only started supplying it last month, and only we get to drink it in the mornings." Dai Yan spoke rapidly, words tumbling over one another as she produced another bottle like a prize. "I ranked first in two subjects on the last monthly exam, so I earned two reward coupons. I exchanged them for these—one for each of you to taste!"
Dai Dehou examined the bottle in his hands and felt a jolt of shock. This was crystal glass.
The milk bottle before him was nothing like the colored glass vessels already flooding markets at low prices. This was transparent crystal, its craftsmanship exquisite. On any open market, it could easily fetch one or two taels of silver.
The Chiefs are truly generous. Gratitude welled in Dai Dehou's chest. His hands trembled slightly as he set the precious bottle on the table.
Dai Yan, accustomed to the ritual by now, took the bottle from him, deftly untied the cotton string, peeled away the paper seal, and handed it back.
Under his daughter's insistent urging, Dai Dehou raised the bottle and took a tentative sip. A faint sweetness bloomed first, followed by a strange, spreading aroma unlike anything he had tasted.
"Good, isn't it? Mom, you drink too!" Dai Yan opened the other bottle and pressed it into Mrs. Dai's hands, watching with satisfaction as her mother began to drink.
Mrs. Dai found the faint "fishy" undertone difficult to enjoy, but unwilling to disappoint her daughter's kindness, she steeled herself and drank it down.
Dai Yan, restless by nature, pushed the food trays toward her parents, then seized the food box Mrs. Dai had brought and opened it herself. Pursing her lips, she unwrapped the cotton cloth from around the jar, lifted the lid, and set the still-warm large yellow croaker before her.
"I told you last time—don't bring food. The school feeds us very well. Every meal has fish and meat, and they won't let us leave anything on our plates!"
Dai Dehou surveyed the rattan-woven food tray before him. Nestled inside were several bowls fashioned from coconut shells, holding not only taro braised with chicken but also a dish of pork slices stir-fried with red and green vegetables. A bowl of vegetable and egg drop soup completed the spread—far more refined than anything they ate at home.
The three of them began eating. Mrs. Dai plucked a piece of the unfamiliar green vegetable from beside the meat slices and bit down. Instantly, a pungent fire spread through her mouth. Forgetting all propriety, she opened her mouth wide and panted to cool her tongue.
"Hehe, a bit spicy, isn't it? It's alright—just drink some milk." Dai Yan grinned. "I asked the teacher about it. These chili peppers stimulate the appetite. They come from the Americas... you know, an island very, very far to our southwest. The Chiefs brought them over to plant in Lingao."
Though chili peppers had been available in local markets for some time, their relatively high price and unfamiliar taste meant that aside from wealthy households and naturalized citizen-cadres, ordinary Lingao folk rarely purchased them. Dai Dehou and Mrs. Dai had seen the round and pointed varieties—red and green alike—in the Red Flower Society's produce shops, but they had never actually tried one.
Strange words kept tumbling from his daughter's lips—terms Dai Dehou had never encountered. Watching her confident manner, he felt both pride and anxiety for his son, Dai Yu.
No matter how promising a daughter becomes, her talents will benefit another household. How much light will our own family truly share?
They had just bent their heads to resume eating when Dai Yan whispered suddenly, "Look—that's a Chief's child."
Dai Dehou had long heard rumors of the "Little Senators"—children who had arrived from Australia on the great iron ships alongside the Chiefs themselves. But these young ones were shrouded in mystery, almost never appearing at public occasions.
Fewer than ten such children currently studied at Fangcaodi, ranging from seven or eight to twelve or thirteen years old. A special class had been established within the Academy to provide them multi-grade instruction—though "multi-grade" was a polite fiction; in practice, it amounted to private tutoring.
Their curriculum delved deeper than even that of the accelerated-class students, particularly in the natural and human sciences. Additionally, each child was required to elect a common foreign language from the old space-time to ensure that the Great Library's multilingual materials could be effectively passed down.
Within the Academy's walls, however, these students were never to be called "Chiefs." Everyone—faculty and pupils alike—addressed them only by name. Among themselves, the students referred to them simply as "Those People."
Dai Dehou watched the newcomer enter. By her features, she appeared about eleven or twelve, yet she stood a head taller than most of the thirteen- and fourteen-year-old boys in the room. Slender in figure, she wore a school uniform identical in cut to everyone else's; a pink ribbon gathered her long dark hair. Her face was beautiful, her complexion fair.
She greeted a few familiar girls, then walked to the meal counter with light, effortless steps. In her gestures and her smiles there emanated a quality entirely unlike anything Dai Dehou could discern in his own daughter—an unpretentious, radiant confidence, like the sun rising over the horizon. Every eye in the hall turned toward her.
A natural-born noble, Dai Dehou thought, envy stirring within him. Since his daughter had begun her studies here, she had grown more and more spirited—but compared to this girl, there was simply no comparison.
I wonder which Senator's daughter she is... and who she will marry one day...
His idle reverie was interrupted by his wife's voice. "Whose girl is this?"
"A Senator's family, of course. You wouldn't know even if I told you..."
This was true. The Senators whose names Dai Dehou actually knew numbered fewer than ten, most encountered through broadcasts and newspapers.
"Then what rank is this girl...?" Mrs. Dai now regarded the General Evaluation as something close to divine law.
"They don't participate in the General Evaluation. They're in a league of their own. If they did compete, we'd all have to go wash feet for 'Those People'..."
"Wash feet?"
"Mm... never mind, Mom—you wouldn't understand."
Dai Dehou studied his daughter, who smiled and pursed her lips as she spoke. Suddenly she seemed a stranger to him. Where had that Little San Niang of their household gone? Her manner of speaking, her expressions—they had grown so similar to that Senator's daughter just now...
The meal ended soon afterward. Dai Yan returned the clean food trays and milk bottles. A half-hour remained for parents and children to spend together.
Seeing that Mrs. Dai and their daughter had finished talking, Dai Dehou considered for a moment before speaking.
"Yan'er, has Chief Luo visited?"
The one who had recommended his daughter for study here was Chief Luo, yet Dai Dehou wasn't a naturalized citizen and didn't even know the man's full name. He had no idea what position the Chief held or how much power he wielded. What Chief Luo's intentions regarding Yan'er might be remained a mystery. In truth, aside from an accidental encounter in East Gate Market long ago, they had never met again. Even the daughter's recommendation had been arranged through his third brother—though the Chief in question was said to work in some restricted area, and they had never met him personally either. A letter had simply been passed along through intermediaries.
"He comes every week! He brings me lots of delicious food and tells me to study hard!"
At the mention of Chief Luo, Dai Yan seemed to recall something. She reached mysteriously into her uniform pocket and produced a few candies, pressing them into Mrs. Dai's hands.
"Mom, take these back for little brother. These are milk candies the Chief gave me. They aren't sold outside!"
Seeing that his daughter knew nothing more and that further questions would be pointless, Dai Dehou let the matter rest.
The time allotted for gathering always passed too quickly. Teacher Xu soon stood to announce that the visitation session was ending. Spring Break would begin in a few days; he hoped parents would pay attention to their children's safety. He offered a few formulaic words about the Chiefs thanking parents for their support and their commitment to cultivating the students into talents. Finally, he distributed report cards to the visiting parents one by one—the most prized thing to show off to neighbors these days.
Dai Dehou and Mrs. Dai left the school. Two hours remained before his work shift, though he had already taken the day off.
They boarded the train first. Throughout the ride, Dai Dehou's thoughts churned.
I wonder if Chief Luo has taken a fancy to our Yan'er? No matter how dear a daughter may be, she must marry eventually. Being a concubine for Chief Luo would be her blessing. If she could attach herself to Chief Luo, perhaps he might also arrange for my son to attend this National School. Maybe the man could even put in a word about finding our family some housing land.
Of course, he had no certainty of any of this. Nowadays he possessed neither house nor property and couldn't even afford a decent dowry. Besides, it was a bit early to be marrying off a daughter. He had heard that Australia lacked the custom of child brides—and that the female Chiefs particularly despised the practice.
"Father, do you think if we begged Chief Luo, he might recommend Yu'er for admission too?" Mrs. Dai flipped through the report card and spoke suddenly.
"Huh?" Dai Dehou hadn't returned from his reverie. "How would I know..."
"What about writing a letter and having Yan'er deliver it to Chief Luo when she returns to school after the break?"
"That's a fine idea!"
Dai Dehou felt a sudden surge of energy. He clasped Mrs. Dai's hand, feeling for the first time that the family's future might hold real hope.
"President Zhang, this progress simply won't do."
Yang Yun and Zhang Xingpei had just returned from the Ma'niao New District construction site, bringing along Dai Xiu, life secretaries, apprentices, and guards.
Though the tract of land adjoining the highway had been leveled, after three months of work most of the thirty buildings scattered across it were still at the foundation-digging stage. Only a handful near the highway had risen to two stories. At this pace, Yang Yun's drafted housing allocation plan was nothing but a castle in the sky.
"If you want speed, give me people or give me equipment. There's a lot of rock underground here, and the explosives you've allocated aren't nearly enough."
Zhang Xingpei reclined in a chair, enjoying the hot towel his life secretary had just brought for a face wash, his tone languid.
The lofty ambitions he'd harbored upon taking this post had long since been ground away by reality. His entire indigenous civil-construction cadre team—plus most of the workers—consisted of the rejects and novices spurned by the General Construction Company.[1] Though many temporary laborers had been organized to help, progress remained sluggish and accidents never ceased.
Every day at work, Zhang Xingpei spent most of his energy cursing people out, but even that had grown tiresome.
"How about this: I'll add a thousand people to your workforce, but you must guarantee the construction schedule!"
"You still have surplus manpower over there?"
Zhang Xingpei raised an eyebrow in puzzlement. What Lingao lacked most at present was labor. As operations expanded in every direction, the demand was insatiable—especially for technical personnel, whom every department fought to claim.
[1] Idiom meaning poor-quality workers/rejects.