The next day, before dawn had even broken, Li Hongjun climbed out of bed. He took the five pounds of frozen pork his wife had retrieved from their storage space yesterday, two hens that had been properly slaughtered by the comrades of the Revolutionary Committee back then, a small jar of white liquor brewed by Shen Yunfang himself, and an additional ten pounds of rice. In total, there were four kinds of gifts, which were considered quite generous for the time of year.
Li Hongjun packed everything into his carrying basket, easily shouldered it, and informed his wife. After planting a kiss on his eldest son, he then shut the door and set off.
Li Hongjun moved at a brisk pace and arrived at Taoshu Village by a little past nine in the morning.
