Chapter Ten: I’m Quite Good at Slapping People—Care to Try?

The crowd dispersed, most people dressed in rather strange outfits, as if they'd combined the warmest clothes from their households; one person even had a pair of children's fleece-lined pants wrapped around their neck instead of a scarf. Jiang Huan was cold as well, but it hardly affected her movements. She picked up her axe, found her target, and started chopping.

Taking advantage of others’ inattention, she collected a few dry branches here and there, handed in a scraggly tree trunk, and then deliberately went farther away. Using quieter tools, she began harvesting more wood. By the time the whistle blew to signal assembly, there was a new pile of firewood in the space—at least several hundred kilograms’ worth. She broke out in a fine sweat from the effort and took several hearty sips of hot brown sugar ginger tea.

The whistle meant it was time to gather. Jiang Huan dragged the bundle of dry branches tied with rope, struggling to hand them over again. Since she was the last to arrive, she saw the group gathered around Wu Gang, marveling in awe, but she didn’t understand why until Liu Ling came over to explain. Wu Gang, using only a saw and an axe, had chopped as much wood by himself as all the others combined.

He really was impressive. Everyone present looked at him differently now. When he said they would divide the firewood proportionally after registration, not a single person objected.

Ordinary people always admire strength, without exception. At a time like this, Wu Gang, with his fiery temper, sense of community, and abilities far surpassing the rest, was undoubtedly the paragon of strength.

A woman beside Wu Gang was in charge of registration. Seeing Jiang Huan’s attention was elsewhere, she marked the weight as ninety catties.

On the ride back, everyone was exhausted; the sounds of coughing and sniffles filled the air. Even with hand warmers, exercise, and thick clothes, Jiang Huan’s blood circulation was still affected after sitting for just a dozen minutes. When she got off the bus, she stumbled a bit.

Wu Gang was right next to her and reached out to steady her, “Careful.”

“Thank you.” Jiang Huan had barely regained her balance.

He immediately let go and went to grab the loudspeaker, informing everyone that by noon the next day, the firewood would be divided proportionally. He hoped next time, when it was time to break ice, everyone would come down more quickly.

Jiang Huan, however, had another idea.

“My apartment is just a few floors below the rooftop. Later, I’ll bring a few containers up to collect snow, so I won’t be coming down to break ice with everyone. Otherwise, it’s really inconvenient to go up and down twenty floors.”

Wu Gang thought for a moment and agreed. She wasn’t coming down, but she was figuring out her own way to store ice and wasn’t taking part in the communal division.

“All right, but remember to come down to get your share of firewood tomorrow. Based on your labor, you’ll definitely be getting plenty.”

“Thank you.” Jiang Huan turned to head inside, but before she’d gone far, someone stopped her.

Liu Ling, breathing heavily and looking rather deflated, told Jiang Huan that she probably wouldn’t be able to come downstairs tomorrow—her body couldn’t take it. Someone else would come in her place. Only at the end did she reveal her real request.

“Um, I have some water buckets too. Could you help me carry them upstairs later? And when you get any ice or something, could you call me?”

“How would you even hear me if I called?” The distance between their floors was considerable, and running up and down for her was out of the question.

Liu Ling realized she must have been addled by the cold to make such a request. In the end, she only asked Jiang Huan to help carry two empty buckets upstairs. Since Liu Ling had previously offered her instant noodles and water, Jiang Huan agreed.

As she carried the buckets, wrapped in yellow tape, upstairs, the couple from the twelfth floor suddenly emerged from the emergency stairwell, lugging a large bath tub between them and struggling to get it to the stairs.

Jiang Huan noticed that the man had also been part of the woodcutting group; apparently, he’d heard her idea and decided to imitate it. Jiang Huan wasn’t in a hurry, so she waited to the side with her lightweight plastic buckets, letting them go first.

But the couple simply set the big tub down. “Hey, take it upstairs. Once it’s full, let us know.”

With a heavy thud, the tub hit the ground—it must have weighed thirty or forty jin. Jiang Huan stared at them in disbelief.

Were these two out of their minds?

“What are you looking at? Hurry up!” the woman urged matter-of-factly.

“Move aside.”

Jiang Huan didn’t even want to waste words arguing. But the couple blocked her path, making it clear that unless she carried their tub, they wouldn’t let her pass.

Her younger brother had been home alone for four or five hours; she was anxious to get back and have a hot meal. Seeing them deliberately blocking her way, she forced herself to be patient and said, “The rooftop is for everyone. I’m not stopping you from taking things up there. If it were just a plastic bucket, I’d help out, but you two brought out a tub that takes both of you to carry and expect me to take it alone?”

Unexpectedly, the woman shot back immediately.

“My husband said you’re strong. Earlier, you chopped a huge pile of wood all by yourself, stronger than any man. Don’t tell me you can’t even carry this tub?”

Jiang Huan couldn’t help but laugh in exasperation. She didn’t bother with a second round of reasoning and asked instead, “I’m even stronger with my slaps. Want to try?”

The woman’s eyebrows shot up. “What did you say? You think, as someone in your position, you can talk to me like that? You’d better watch yourself, or when your backer comes, I’ll make sure you regret it—”

Smack!

Jiang Huan, still holding the bucket with one hand, landed a slap square on the woman’s face. Even through her work gloves, the blow left the woman’s cheek swelling instantly, the rough fabric scraping her skin.

“You—you—ahhh, I’ll kill you, you filthy—”

Smack!

Jiang Huan slapped her again. The man lunged to grab her neck, but Jiang Huan swung the bucket straight at him. Dodging the flying buckets, he stumbled and fell right into his own bath tub, nearly twisting his neck.

“If you can’t speak decently, then shut your foul mouth.”

Jiang Huan sneered, pulling out the kitchen knife she’d never used for chopping wood—she wasn’t naive enough to use a kitchen knife for trees; it was for moments like this. She brought the blade down hard on their wooden tub, sending the woman screaming several steps up the stairs, yelling for help.

“Help! Murder! Someone come quick, there’s a killer up here—”

Seeing a gap open up, Jiang Huan squeezed past and headed upstairs, while the woman kept running as if chased by a demon.

Her body, long unused to exercise, gave out after just a few flights; she tripped and fell, but luckily found another stairwell and ducked inside, barricading the door.

Jiang Huan passed by without so much as a glance. She didn’t relish solving problems with violence—she just wanted to go home.

In a flash, she was on the twentieth floor. Jiang Huan knocked; her brother, Jiang Xi, recognized her voice and opened the door immediately. As soon as she stepped inside, a wave of warmth washed over her.

It wasn’t truly hot, but compared to the stairwell, the difference was at least ten degrees. The sudden change made her nose itch.

Afraid she might catch a cold, Jiang Huan drank several more big gulps of hot water and brewed a cup of cold medicine as a precaution.

“Are you hungry? What did you do while I was gone?” Jiang Huan pulled out a bucket from her storage space, wrapped in black tape to prevent cracking—she’d bring it and Liu Ling’s bucket to the rooftop later.

No point in doing things halfway.

Jiang Xi patted his stomach and said he wasn’t hungry. Jiang Huan paused, then walked quickly over to a storage box.