The living room in the main house was spacious, furnished with one large and one small table. With seventeen people in the Li family, young and old, two tables were barely enough.
At this moment, Li's father, mother, and his brothers' wives were all seated at the large dining table. His eldest brother's three kids—two boys and a girl—Li Xiaojiang (13), Li Xiaotao (11), and Li Xiaolan (9), were there. His second brother's two kids—one boy and one girl—Li Xiaobo (7) and Li Xiaomei (10), stood by the wall, whispering about something, joined by Li Xiangdong's son, Li Xiaohai.
"Dad."
Li Xiaohai called out the moment he saw his father enter.
"Yeah."
Li Xiangdong asked, "Have you eaten?"
"I ate."
Li Xiangdong nodded.
"Let me hold the girl."
Zhou Yuqin, who followed him inside, took their daughter, pulled a stool from under the table beside Li's father, and sat down with the child.
Seeing this setup, Li Xiangdong thought, 'This is a full-on family tribunal…'
Reborn, he wanted to make changes. Though still lacking skills—barely literate across two lifetimes—he figured with hard work, he could support his wife and kids. He greeted his parents but skipped his brothers' wives, as was his habit growing up.
Glancing around, the large table was full. The small table held a bowl of corn porridge, a plate of pickled radish, and two coarse flour buns. 'Great… I'm relegated to the kids' table.'
With only one portion, it was clear everyone else had eaten. He was always the last to eat breakfast, the only one sleeping in.
Feeling a bit awkward, he sat down, prioritizing food since he was gnawing with hunger—his youthful body digested fast. Holding the brimming bowl of corn porridge, he sipped it from the edge, circling around. The top layer was cool, so he set it down; the bottom was too hot and needed to cool.
He grabbed a bun, picked up chopsticks, and alternated bites of bun and radish. Two buns down, he ate quickly, let out a satisfied burp, and sighed in relief.
Pausing to catch his breath, he lifted the porridge bowl again, but before he could sip, his father, watching him, grew darker in expression. Li's father took a deep drag from his pipe, tossed the nearly spent cigarette to the floor, exhaled smoke through his nose, and said, "Old Third, when you came back with your wife and kids from the countryside, I thought you'd grown some sense."
"No other skills, but your face sure got thicker. The whole room's watching you eat, and you're not even embarrassed, slurping away like it's delicious. Enough? Want your mother to get you more?"
His father's sarcastic tone was biting.
The room burst into laughter, dissolving the tense atmosphere. Li's mother, frowning moments ago, laughed the loudest.
"Third Uncle, is the corn porridge that good?"
The speaker was Li Xiaojiang, his eldest brother's oldest son, thirteen, a second-year junior high student at the nearby No. 129 Middle School (later Huiwen Experimental Middle School). A poor student, he was always up to mischief.
"It's delicious. Want some with your Third Uncle?"
Li Xiangdong quipped back.
None of the Li family's next generation loved studying or had big-money-making skills. But when he was old, these kids often visited, bringing eggs, pastries, milk, or bread. The gifts weren't valuable, but the thought mattered. They checked on their Third Uncle and brought food—good kids. His own son wasn't bad either, when he wasn't driving him up the wall.
"Third Uncle, you keep it. I'm sick of eating this every day…"
Before Li Xiaojiang could finish, his mother, Li's eldest sister-in-law, snapped, "Shut your mouth! Keep acting up, and I'll beat you later!"
Li Xiaojiang shrank back, silenced.
"Eldest's wife, can't you speak nicely? Why scare my grandson?" Li's mother, seeing her eldest grandson quiver like a frightened quail, wasn't pleased and shot back at her daughter-in-law.
'Bang!'
Li's father slammed the table. "You shut up too! Eldest's wife is disciplining her kid. Don't meddle. Don't you know how much you've spoiled Old Third?"
"Me spoil Old Third? Touch your conscience and say that again. Can I even control him?" Li's mother wasn't fazed, shutting her husband down.
Everyone knew who had pampered Li Xiangdong.
As the room's mood soured, Li Xiangdong gulped down his porridge, wiped his mouth, and stood to slip away.
"Where do you think you're going? We haven't settled your job issue. Sit back down!" His father, stung by his wife's retort, vented his frustration on Li Xiangdong.
Hearing it was about the job, Li Xiangdong obediently sat. This needed a proper family discussion.
Just then, Li Xiaozhu, in Zhou Yuqin's arms, grew fussy, whimpering without crying—a sign she was sleepy. Li's father tamped down his anger, lowering his voice. "Third's wife, take the girl to the inner room."
He glanced at the grandkids cowering by the wall. "Xiaojiang, take your siblings and follow your Third Aunt to the inner room to play."
Kids laughed when parents disciplined them, but adult arguments scared them deep down. Li Xiaojiang and the others were already spooked by the tension. At their grandfather's order, they hurried after Zhou Yuqin to the inner room.
As he passed, Xiaojiang made a goofy face at Li Xiangdong. Back a month, the kids had grown close to him, especially this cheeky nephew, who bounced back from his mother's scolding like nothing happened.
"Dad."
Li Xiaohai toddled over, swaying, and called out.
"What? Listen to your grandpa and go with your mother to the inner room."
"Got it."
Xiaohai trailed Zhou Yuqin into the inner room.
With the door closed, Li's father's gaze returned to Li Xiangdong.
Looking at his youngest son, he sighed inwardly. Of his three sons, the eldest and second were reliable, steady, and rarely caused worry. Only this youngest one gave him constant headaches.
As a kid, he hated studying, always chasing cats or teasing dogs after school. Sent to the countryside as an educated youth, he wrote home every few days, complaining of hunger, unable to endure the lack of food and drink. The first letter scared Li's father, thinking another famine had hit!
Now back from the countryside, with a job arranged by the neighborhood office, he still refused to work. This wasn't raising a son—it was raising a bandit!
"When we head to work, you're coming with us to report to the neighborhood office," Li's father said firmly. "What's wrong with popping popcorn? It's better than sitting idle at home."
Popping popcorn sounded unglamorous, but it was a collective enterprise under the neighborhood office. Days had passed since the notice, yet his son hadn't reported. Li's father feared delaying further would cost him the job.
"Dongzi, listen to Dad. Take the job for now. There are over 400,000 unemployed youths in Beijing. Across the city, roughly one in three households has someone jobless," said Li Weimin, the second brother, who worked at the bathhouse and heard more news than most.
"Exactly. Xiaohai and Xiaoqi are young now, but expenses will pile up later," added the second sister-in-law. The eldest sister-in-law, less talkative, nodded in agreement. Both sisters-in-law had their own thoughts.
Hearing these numbers for the first time, Li's mother grew anxious, pacing like an ant on a hot pan. "Dongzi, you can't delay anymore! If you lose this job, what'll you do?"
With so many people and so few jobs, what was wrong with popping popcorn? It was a good job—who knew how many were lining up for it?