Chapter 29: The Announcer's Duty
In this red era, every job carries its own significance. Take the broadcaster, for example; while it may seem like a top-tier position—shielded from the wind and rain, as Chen Ming once remarked—it is not as simple as those on the outside might imagine.
Fengsheng Brigade is a sizable production unit. Its members are divided into eight groups, with rows of houses sheltering over a thousand people. During the autumn harvest, crops—including corn, soybeans, potatoes, sweet potatoes, and peanuts—create a bustling, multifaceted scene. Some workers snap corn, others bag it or dig up potatoes; the older women and sisters-in-law harvest vines, while children trail behind, gathering the remaining scraps of grain.
The broadcaster’s duties are closely intertwined with this labor. Beyond reading official documents handed down from above, one must master the equipment to play music and recite poems for the brigade members. Yun Shu is responsible for announcing rewards, punishments, and daily directives from superiors. Each evening, before everyone rests, she also delivers the weather forecast—a practice that began in the newspapers on July 1, 1956, and has since spread via radio waves across the country, though its accuracy leaves much to be desired. Television weather reports would not emerge until 1980, a development far removed from Yun Shu’s current reality. In essence, she is little more than a mouthpiece, broadcasting perfectly orthodox content for which she bears no personal responsibility.
Because today marks the first day of the busy harvest season, a sense of ceremony is required. The Brigade Leader has repeatedly urged Yun Shu to inspire the members and ignite their fighting spirit. Having risen an hour early and breakfasted on a small roll and milk, Yun Shu nodded in understanding, surveying the equipment in the broadcast room under the Brigade Leader’s expectant gaze.
The era’s most common broadcasting equipment consists of vacuum tube radios, tape recorders, vinyl record players, and cassette players. Vinyl players have become rare since the wind of change blew through, as they are stereotyped as remnants of the "Four Olds." Fengsheng Brigade, however, is relatively well-off, possessing both a tape recorder and a vacuum tube radio. The latter is the centerpiece of the room, capable of picking up signals from the Beijing Broadcast Station and local stations. After finishing the official readings, Yun Shu uses these broadcasts to entertain the members and grant herself a moment of respite. With the recent launch of the 805 Station in Heilongjiang Province, she considers that perhaps there might be programming the members would find even more engaging.
After a quick study of the manual, Yun Shu finds the operation intuitive—far simpler than the technology of later generations. The Brigade Leader and others behind her nod in approval; her quick mastery of such delicate equipment is seen as proof of a city girl’s natural intelligence.
By eight in the morning, having practiced her timing and adjusted the microphones and loudspeakers, Yun Shu cues up "The East is Red." As the stirring music swells, the Brigade Leader taps the microphone, pulls out a speech drafted years ago with only minor edits, and begins to rally the people. The scorekeeper has already assigned tasks, and the fields are soon filled with the flash of sickles. At the Brigade Leader’s command, rhythmic work chants erupt across Fengsheng. The first day of the harvest is charged with passion; as the golden grain is gathered, every member feels a profound sense of fulfillment.
A full day’s labor earns an adult male twelve work points, and a female eleven—assuming they work themselves to the bone. Children tending cattle or sheep earn four or five points, while pigweed is compensated by weight: three points for every twenty kilograms. Since pigs are omnivorous, gathering feed is not a grueling task, usually reserved for the elderly, children, or the infirm as a way to supplement their income. Some well-off "educated youth" from the city, unable to endure the back-breaking labor of the fields and failing to secure teaching positions, have negotiated for this work instead.
By gathering twenty kilograms of pigweed in the morning and another twenty in the afternoon, one earns six points a day—not enough to live on alone, but a helpful addition for those not solely reliant on the brigade. Lin Jingshu is quite satisfied with this arrangement. By trading fruit candies from her pocket—one orange candy for five kilograms of weeds—she has the local children scrambling to complete her quota in under two hours. She feels no guilt, even as the children are scolded by their parents for their sugar-filled mouths.
Having secured nine points by midday, Lin Jingshu heads home to cook, much to the chagrin of the scorekeeper. In the broadcast room, Xie Yun Shu plays a lively tune, and Lin Jingshu finds herself skipping along the path, buoyed by the rhythm of the harvest.