The afternoon sun beat down on Weeping Willow Square, baking the packed earth and making the dust motes dance. A dozen villagers, shoulders slumped after a morning in the West Fields, shifted uncomfortably on splintered benches. At the front, atop a makeshift podium of overturned ration crates, stood Production Captain He Zhenting, his brows a storm cloud under the brim of his straw hat. His gaze, usually sharp, flickered to the wilting figure of Dai Yunya, slouched against the willow’s trunk, her eyes half-closed as if contemplating a particularly interesting dream. “Comrades!” He Zhenting's voice, a gravelly rumble that usually silenced even the loudest cicadas, cut through the oppressive heat. “We are here today to discuss… discrepancies. Discrepancies in communal effort. Discrepancies in…” Before he could finish, Rong Xueli, perched upright on the front bench, her city-issue canvas shoes conspicuously clean, cleared her throat. “Captain He, with all due respect, must we drag this out? The numbers are quite clear.” Her voice, bright and precise, carried a thinly veiled impatience. “The ledger for the second quarter has been posted. Most of us have earned our thirty points a day, sometimes forty, sweating under this very sun. Yet, one individual has managed a truly impressive feat.” Xueli fixed her gaze on Yunya, a predatory glint in her eyes. “Dai Yunya, your cumulative work points for the entire quarter stand at a magnificent… zero. Not a single point for planting, not a single point for weeding, not even a half-point for hauling water. It’s a new record for the Mudan Brigade, wouldn’t you say? A new low.” A few snickers rippled through the gathered villagers, quickly stifled by Captain He’s stern glance. Yunya slowly pushed herself off the tree, a sweet, unbothered smile gracing her lips. Her eyes, the color of wet river stones, met Xueli’s, completely devoid of shame. “Oh, dear. Is it truly that low? My apologies, Comrade Rong. I suppose I’ve been rather… preoccupied.” She smoothed a wrinkle from her faded tunic, her movements languid, almost insolent. “Preoccupied?” Xueli scoffed, her face tightening. “With what, exactly? Staring at the clouds? Perhaps dreaming of the city you’ll never see again? While others are breaking their backs for the collective, you’re breaking new ground in idleness!” Yunya’s smile widened, a disarmingly gentle expression that made her appear utterly sincere. “You’re right, Comrade Rong. My idleness is truly a problem for the brigade, isn’t it? It reflects poorly on everyone, especially on the leadership.” She turned her head, her gaze drifting to Captain He, who stood frozen, his lips pressed flat. “And it’s quite an inconvenience, I imagine, for those of you who aspire to earn a coveted city-return voucher. My continued presence, my… lack of contribution, must be a thorn in your ambitious sides.” A murmur went through the crowd. The transfer voucher. The ultimate prize. Rong Xueli, known for her relentless pursuit of this goal, stiffened, her gaze narrowing in suspicion. Yunya, she knew, also possessed the necessary 'educated youth' qualifications, however unused. “So,” Yunya continued, her voice soft, almost a lullaby, “I propose a solution. A trade, if you will, to rectify my… gross inefficiency.” She looked from Xueli to Captain He, her smile never faltering. “I will willingly, joyfully, surrender my highly desirable assignment along the eastern furrow – the one bordering the Grimy Creek, with its rich, loamy soil. And, of course, I’ll also hand over my claim to any potential city-return permit, should one ever miraculously fall my way.” The square fell silent. The eastern ditch assignment was the most fertile, the most prized for its ease of tilling and guaranteed high yield. And the departure permit… surrendering that was unthinkable for any educated youth. Rong Xueli’s mouth hung slightly open, her usual sharp retort dying on her tongue. “In exchange,” Yunya added, her eyes now gleaming with quiet satisfaction, “I simply ask for the stone rise. The barren, rocky hillock beyond the North Valley Plots. The barren, rocky hillock beyond the North Valley Plots. The one everyone calls ‘useless’ for cultivation. I want it as my personal assignment. For… quiet contemplation.” Captain He Zhenting finally found his voice, a raw rasp. “Dai Yunya! What kind of nonsense is this? You’re casting off the best land and a chance for a future to… nap on rocks? The Whispering Crag has no soil worth mentioning, barely enough to grow a few weeds! It’s nothing but a pile of stones and sparse, scrubby pines. You’ll starve! You’ll be a greater burden than you already are!” His public scolding was harsh, cutting, but his intense gaze lingered on her, a flicker of something unreadable – concern? frustration? – in his dark eyes. Yunya merely tilted her head, her smile unwavering. “A burden, perhaps, Captain He. But one that will no longer impede the productivity of others, nor stand in the way of their dreams. And who knows? Perhaps the Whispering Crag holds secrets only a quiet contemplator can uncover.” Rong Xueli, having recovered from her shock, let out a short, triumphant laugh. “Hah! Abandoning the eastern ditch and the voucher for a pile of rocks! What a fool! It’s the perfect arrangement, He Zhenting. Let the parasite have her useless patch. It saves us the trouble of dragging her out to the real paddies.” She adjusted her shoe, about to launch into further gloating, when a flash of mottled brown fur erupted from beneath Yunya’s faded tunic. A creature the size of a small pig, with beady eyes and a ridiculously fat belly, latched onto the toe of Xueli’s pristine canvas shoe. It wasn’t a bite, more of a firm, annoyed clamp. Daodao, the grumpy badger Yunya had somehow befriended, merely held on, preventing Xueli from moving, his tiny claws digging just enough to be irritating. “Daodao! Behave.” Yunya chided with a soft laugh, pulling the badger gently away. Daodao released the shoe with a huff, fixing Xueli with a baleful glare before waddling back to Yunya’s side, nudging her hand for a scratch behind the ears. Xueli, flustered and embarrassed by the animal attack, could only sputter. The officer, after a moment’s deliberation, his face stony, finally nodded. “Very well. The exchange is approved. Dai Yunya, the Whispering Crag is yours. But don’t come crying to me when your stomach rumbles.” He dismissed the assembly with a sweep of his hand, his eyes still fixed on Yunya for a moment too long. Yunya, with Daodao trotting dutifully at her heels, walked away from the square, her steps light. The jeers and hissed taunts of “lazy good-for-nothing” faded behind her. The Crag wasn’t much to look at. Just a rise of grey, jagged stone, sparsely dotted with hardy shrubs and gnarled pines, overlooking the entire brigade. It was far from the main paths, untouched by plow or hoe, a forgotten corner of the commune. Perfect. A place where a person could truly nap in peace. Reaching a sun-drenched, relatively flat shelf of rock, Yunya sighed contentedly. Daodao immediately began rooting around in a patch of dry grass, sniffing with intense concentration. She settled onto the warm stone, leaning back against a pine tree, and closed her eyes, letting the sun soak into her skin. But after a few minutes, a strange, acrid smell, like burnt plastic mixed with something metallic, pricked at her nostrils. It wasn’t the usual scent of dust and pine. It seemed to emanate from a small depression just a few feet away, partially hidden by a cluster of thorny bushes. Curiosity, a rare stir during her designated nap times, got the better of her. She pushed herself up, walked to the spot, and began to scrape away the loose dirt and stones with her bare hands. The smell grew stronger, making her eyes water. After a few minutes of digging, her fingers brushed against something cold and smooth, then something metallic. She widened the hole, pulling out more earth, until the object was sufficiently exposed. It was a metal drum, dark green, corroded in places, with faded white lettering. She squinted, deciphering the characters: ‘State-Issued Type 79-C.’ Below that, a skull and crossbones, and the words: ‘HAZARDOUS WASTE: CONTAMINATED SOIL REMEDIATION AGENT. QINGHE CHEMICAL WORKS. DO NOT DISTURB. RESTRICTED STATE CODE: Y-117.’

The Price of a Nap