Cai Xiaonian's family had truly spared no expense. With Wang Yan's help, they no longer had to scrape together furniture from the neighbors like in the original story—one family lending a cabinet, another lending a stool. It had shown the warmth of the courtyard's relationships, at least.
This time, with Wang Yan helping out, new furniture was naturally better. The craftsmanship and prices were guaranteed, too. So Old Cai's family began borrowing money from relatives and friends—fifty from one household, a hundred from another—and managed to scrape together over a thousand yuan.
That was no small sum. In those days, an ordinary worker only earned forty or fifty yuan a month. Even Wang Yan himself, despite all the merits he had earned, made only a little over seventy yuan a month. Yet that was already considered a high salary. Old Ma, with his commendations, years of service, and squad leader position, earned about the same.
Cai Xiaonian's family circumstances were naturally quite good. Old Cai had driven trains for many years, and with his professional rank, commendations, seniority, and so on, he could earn seventy or eighty yuan a month. Cai Xiaonian earned a little less, around fifty yuan. Cai's mother was a housewife who occasionally made handicrafts for extra money.
The family could make over a thousand yuan a year. But after living expenses, the amount they could save was considerably less. Repaying that thousand-plus yuan would take the family a solid three to five years.
That was perfectly normal. Even if Cai Xiaonian's family counted as high-income for the era, they were not wealthy tycoons. They were still an ordinary family. Families like theirs generally had to go into debt to get married. It was not much different from decades later.
A few days later, when Cai Xiaonian