The first month of 1966 was the happiest time for Kong Demin. The message from above was that he could be promoted after the New Year.
A man's expression of happiness involves fine wine and beautiful women.
Since Zheng Xiuxiang was pregnant, he still cared a bit, so it was only Meng Xiufen.
"Demin, are you going home tomorrow? Tomorrow is already the fourth day of the first lunar month, and you haven't gone back yet," Meng Xiufen asked him afterwards.
"Then I'll go back tomorrow. What's up at home?"
"Bring five pounds of meat, and some snacks I prepared earlier, some white wine, and take a pack of cigarettes that someone gave you back home."
"Haha, all right, you are quite a filial daughter-in-law, not much younger than my parents."
Meng Xiufen gave him a pat. "Right, Xiuxiang's belly isn't that obvious now. Shouldn't she go home for a visit? It's the New Year, after all. She should see her parents, shouldn't she?"
