Northeast large kang (heated brick bed)

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

[Northeast China's Traditional Kang Bed] [Complete]
I was born in a very remote and underdeveloped mountain village in Northeast China. My family consisted of my parents, two older sisters, and myself—a total of five people. My mother married my father when she was 18, and gave birth to my eldest sister the following year. When she was 20, she gave birth to my second sister. Due to the one-child policy, my parents shouldn't have had any more children. However, rural areas are very feudal, and the idea that daughters cannot inherit the family business is firmly ingrained in everyone's minds.
My father was the highest-ranking official in the village—the village party secretary. Although he also held this view, he dared not consider these issues because of his position.
However, two or three years after my second sister was born, various rumors began to circulate among relatives, friends, and villagers. When these rumors reached my grandparents, the four elders immediately braved the wind and snow, traveling over a hundred miles to my home. According to my eldest sister, who was only four or five years old at the time, my grandparents pointed at my mother and scolded her, while my maternal grandparents pointed at my father and scolded him. After a while, they turned to comfort their own children.
Although I don't know what they said, a year later, I came into this world crying. Although I later heard that my parents had been arrested and subjected to some kind of surgery, and that my father had been dismissed from his public office,
when they held a banquet for my 100-day celebration, my parents and the four elders stood tall, their faces glowing, and they greeted the villagers with beaming smiles.
After my birth, it is said that those rumors never resurfaced, and my parents appeared very proud in front of the villagers. However, because Dad lost his government job, he had no income other than his small plot of land, and life became difficult. The pride in Dad and Mom disappeared. To support five mouths, Dad gritted his teeth and left the village to work elsewhere. Only Mom and the three of us siblings remained at home.
Although Mom was left alone with three underage children, Dad's work outside was very successful. Every six months, he would return with many gifts and a generous allowance. Our family regained its prestige among the villagers, and we were the first in the village to replace our mud house with a cement one. Coupled with the authority Dad held from his time as village secretary, no one dared to bully us women and children.
A year or two later, when Dad brought back the village's first color TV, the whole village was abuzz. When he tested the TV, almost every man, young and old, came, crowding the house inside and out. After the New Year, my father went out to work again, but this time he didn't go alone; all the able-bodied men in the village went with him. This left only the elderly, women, and children in the village, and my family's prestige reached its peak. Often, my mother's words carried more weight than the village secretary's.
I grew up in this happy family, in what could be described as a village of women.
In Northeast China, there's an old custom, though few people, especially in the city, practice it now. But in our remote village, where snow often blankets the land, it's still maintained: sleeping naked.
The elders say that crawling naked under the covers and lying on the heated kang (a traditional heated brick bed) feels much warmer and more comfortable than wearing clothes. Of course, everyone has their own quilt.
I don't remember much about my childhood, only vaguely that I never had my own quilt. From a very young age, I was always held in my mother's arms and slept under the same quilt. My mother's quilt was the biggest in the family. My eldest sister said it was shared with my father, hence its size.
When my father came home, I wouldn't sleep with my mother anymore, but instead shared a quilt with my eldest sister. Whenever my father was home, and when I woke up at night needing to pee, I would see my mother's big quilt moving constantly, and hear my parents' rapid breathing. When I cried to pee, my father, who usually doted on me, would scold me because my mother would get up to help me.
I don't know if my two older sisters witnessed this, but when I did, they were all sound asleep, perhaps they saw it but were afraid of being scolded by my father and dared not disturb them. So, when I was old enough to urinate on my own, I never disturbed them, just secretly slipped out of bed and took care of it myself.
Our kang (heated brick bed) was large enough for three adults to sleep side by side, and five could squeeze in if we were a little more cramped. There were only three quilts on the bed for my mother and two older sisters, so it was quite spacious. At that time, what I wanted most was to have my own quilt, but my mother always said I was too young and afraid I would get cold, so she wouldn't agree to give me another quilt. I really hated my mother then, but after something happened when I was 10, I stopped asking for my own quilt and was grateful to my mother for not letting me have one alone.
There was no high school in the village, and the children in the village had to walk more than ten miles to go to the high school in the township. However, it snowed for six months of the year here, so many children in the village, especially girls, had to postpone starting school. However, I don't know if it was because my father was often away from home and had a lot of experience, or because we had some spare money, but I was in my third year of high school at the age of nineteen. My second sister, who was two years older than me, was in the same grade as me, and my eldest sister, who was five years older than me, was a sophomore at a university in the province. That year, my mother was only 43 years old.
Speaking of my mother, she was a famous beauty in the whole township. Standing at 1.7 meters tall, with beautiful long hair, an oval face, willow-leaf eyebrows, delicate red lips, a curvaceous figure, and long, slender, fair legs. Not only were her legs fair, but her entire body was snow-white—because everyone living in this icy landscape was fair-skinned, after all.
Perhaps such a young and beautiful woman, whose husband was often away, would be a target for men with ulterior motives. However, my mother rarely spoke to men, and my father, a two-meter-tall, strong man who had served in the special forces, was known throughout the village for his volatile temper. Anyone who dared to make a move on my mother would have to think twice before trying. Besides, there was a double-barreled shotgun left by my father when he was the village secretary; no one dared to steal chickens or dogs at night. Of course, now the village was mostly populated by old men and children; the young people had all left, so even less of a person would try to take advantage of my mother.
As for the officials who came from the surrounding towns, they only exchanged a few words from afar, feasting their eyes, and wouldn't dare to lay a hand on me. You see, my parents' family had the most influence in the surrounding villages; a single call could summon hundreds, even thousands of people. Otherwise, my father, a retired soldier with no connections, wouldn't have become the village party secretary, wouldn't have married such a beautiful woman, and wouldn't have been dismissed only after the birth of our third child.
With such tall and slender parents, my two siblings and I also had very standard figures and outstanding looks. There's no way around it; with a handsome father and a beautiful mother, we children naturally inherited these excellent genes.
Perhaps people in Northeast China are generally tall; I was already over 1.8 meters tall at nineteen, while my second sister, at twenty-one, was already over 1.6 meters, and my eldest sister, at twenty-four, was even more impressive, already over 1.7 meters, with a tall and voluptuous figure. I wonder if it was because the nutritional supplements Dad brought back were too nourishing, or what, but my two older sisters' figures had developed feminine curves. Although not mature, they were still very attractive to young men.
The three of us siblings have a very good relationship. Perhaps it's because from a young age, whenever I received a special gift from Dad, I would share it with my sisters. I don't know why, but I've never had a possessive desire. I share everything that's given to me individually with my sisters, like those special nutritional supplements bought for me—I share them with my two older sisters.
The three of us siblings have never argued or even raised our voices. Since we were old enough to understand, we've always been very considerate of our siblings and deeply care for our family. As the youngest brother, I'm naturally especially loved by my sisters.
Of course, this is also because I care about them just as much. Today I got into a fight; I beat up the guy at school who swore at me until he was bleeding from the head. My older sister, who goes to the same school, was called to the teacher's office and gave me a good scolding. Although both my sister and the teacher asked me why I hit him, I didn't answer. I figured the student I hit wouldn't say why I hit him either.
When the teacher couldn't get an answer, she made me copy the text ten times as punishment. I didn't care, of course, but my sister clearly knew I wouldn't hit someone randomly, so as soon as we left the office, she pulled me to a secluded corner. She cupped my face in her hands and stared intently into my eyes, just looking at me without saying anything.
I knew she wanted to ask why I fought, but I didn't want her to hear those filthy words, so I looked away and decided to stay silent.
After a while, my sister smiled, a beautiful, happy smile. She said softly, "Was it because your classmate swore at you that you scolded him?"
I nodded involuntarily. These days, the most common swear word is "fuck your mother!" "Fuck your mother, fuck your mother!" But for some reason, maybe because my sister is too beautiful, people who argue with me often say things like "Fuck your sister's cunt, fuck your sister to death!"
Although I don't fully understand these words, and I believe the kids saying them don't either, everyone knows it's a very serious insult. Whether it's my sister or my mother, no one in my family will tolerate being insulted, not even in their thoughts. So you could say I've been fighting since I was little. In this school, everyone knows how to use those kinds of swear words to curse me, and I'm like an enraged tiger.
Over time, almost no one dares to curse me to my face, and of course, this means I don't have many friends. As for the guy I beat up so badly, he just transferred here; otherwise, he wouldn't dare to provoke me.
My older sister, of course, knew all about these things, so my second sister gently patted my cheek and laughed, "He just transferred schools and you've already given him a hard time. Looks like he'll never dare to swear in front of you again." After laughing, she sternly tapped my head and said, feigning anger, "Don't fight again next time, or I'll tell Mom and she won't let you sleep with me."
Sometimes my sister would pretend to be angry, but I knew she really liked it when I did. So I quickly nodded with a grin, indicating that I wouldn't dare to do it again.
Many students here live far from school, so they don't need to go home for lunch; everyone brings their own lunchboxes to school. Just as my second sister and I were eating our lunchboxes, the school's loudspeaker suddenly broadcast the principal's voice, ordering students to immediately return to their classrooms.
After listening to the announcement back in the classroom, we learned that another continuous blizzard was coming, and school was letting out early. Furthermore, until the blizzard passed, everyone was to stay home and study. Such things were common in our area during this season. For the students, it meant another few boring days ahead. Because when a blizzard hits, you can't even leave the house, let alone play with your friends.
My second sister and I rushed home after leaving school. Even a three-year-old living in this snowy region knows how dangerous a blizzard can be; no idiot would play on the way home.
When we got home, we found my eldest sister, who was in middle school, had also returned. My mother, seeing everyone was home, breathed a sigh of relief and started busily preparing the kang (heated brick bed). In our area, we eat, chat, and sleep on the kang. Normally, the quilts are folded and stored in the cupboard built against the wall; they're only taken out and spread out at night when we sleep.
I took off my heavy sweater and woolen shoes, climbed onto the kang, and first turned on the kang...

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