I Heard She Was a Capitalist’s Daughter

They heard she was the daughter of a capitalist. The whole village watched, waiting for her to kneel, fight, and toil in the fields, all so they could laugh at her. Who knew that within three days, the delicate young woman in leather shoes would be mucking out the pigsty, hauling buckets of water, and husking corn without missing a beat? She even took it upon herself to sort out the accounts at the supply and marketing cooperative, leaving the old village party secretary dumbfounded. People at the village entrance whispered, “Why hasn’t she cried yet?” People at the far end of the village muttered, “Could she really make it through?” He Heng narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re really not here for a taste of the country life?” She smiled. “I’m here to survive.” From a member of the “Five Black Categories,” dragged away during a confiscation and sent into exile, to the most strong-willed woman in the village, the one least willing to bow her head, she turned muddy ground into a road paved with gold, one pair of bare hands at a time. She said, “I may have been born into silk and fine food, but I can get my hands dirty too.” It wasn’t that she was lucky. She was tough enough to live through it!