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墨書 Inktalez
In those years when resources were as scarce as precious drops of rain in a drought, ration tickets became the crucial currency on the scale of life, determining the faint yet fervent hopes of ordinary families for a better quality of life. Lin Wufeng, a diligent worker in the factory workshop, was well-versed in the art of survival. Each day, amidst the deafening roar of machines and the acrid smell of oil, he busily moved about, with every drop of sweat falling carrying his simple wish for his family's well-being. One day, he keenly caught wind of his colleagues' urgent desire for grain tickets. A thought struck him about the grain tickets his family had accumulated over time. After a heartfelt exchange filled with sincerity, he successfully traded them for the coveted television ticket.
That evening, as the setting sun bathed the path home in warm orange hues, Lin Wufeng hurried through the door, clutching this precious piece of paper. At that moment, Song Ying was in the dim kitchen, carefully rinsing the few grains of rice under the weak light, preparing to cook porridge for dinner. The meticulousness with which she handled each grain reflected her careful budgeting for daily life. Hearing the sound of the door opening, she turned her head and immediately locked her gaze onto the television ticket in Lin Wufeng's hand. In an instant, the fatigue etched on her face from a long day’s labor vanished, replaced by a radiant smile akin to a child's delight upon seeing a table full of candies during New Year celebrations. Her joy radiated from her lips to her eyes as she exclaimed with a slight tremor in her voice, "Wow, you really are something! We've been longing for this television so much that our eyes are nearly worn out from waiting. Now we finally have hope!"
But just as quickly as her joy had blossomed, it faded when she read the prominent words on the ticket indicating it was exchanged for several grain tickets. Her smile was snuffed out like a flame caught in a sudden gust of cold wind; her brow furrowed and her eyes filled with sorrow and reluctance as she murmured, "Grain tickets... We’ve been so careful with every meal just to save these up. When our rice jar ran low, my heart would race with anxiety. And now we’ve traded them away... It truly hurts."
Life continued to push forward under this complex web of emotions, like a heavy ox cart—slow but steady. Among neighbors and friends, an unspoken understanding formed; everyone was quietly saving money to improve their circumstances. At this time, news that Zhuang Tunan had been accepted into a prestigious school burst forth like brilliant fireworks above Lin Family Courtyard, briefly illuminating their hopes. However, the challenges of schooling soon loomed overhead like dark clouds. Every morning before dawn broke, Zhuang Tunan had to force his weary eyelids open, wrap himself tightly in his thin clothes, and carry his heavy backpack against the chilly morning breeze as he hurried off to school. By nightfall, when darkness thickened like ink and stars dotted the sky, he would drag his exhausted legs back home; fatigue etched deeply into his youthful face from both studies and travel had begun to take its toll on his grades.
Huang Ling, being Zhuang Tunan's close relative, often found herself with red-rimmed eyes watching her son toil each day. She felt an overwhelming sense of guilt for not being able to provide him with better conditions. Song Ying, as a dear friend, shared this concern; her heart ached at the sight of him struggling as if countless tiny needles were pricking at it. One day at home, she sat at an old wooden table and pulled open a drawer to retrieve a small package wrapped carefully in layers of cloth. Inside was money she had painstakingly saved from knitting sweaters for others under dim light—each stitch representing her hard work. Clutching the money tightly, Song Ying rushed over to Huang Ling's house, beads of sweat forming on her forehead and hair sticking to her cheeks from exertion. Without pausing to tidy herself up, she eagerly said to Huang Ling: "Ling Jie! Look at how hard Zhuang Tunan is working! The school is so far away; how can he manage without a bicycle? I’ve saved up some money—though it’s not much—it’s my heartfelt intention. Please help buy him one; don’t let him suffer like this anymore."
Huang Ling was instantly moved by this sincere gesture; tears welled up in her eyes as she trembled while accepting the money from Song Ying's hands. Her voice choked yet resolute replied: "Ying Mei, I will remember your kindness; I will make sure this gets done."
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