When Yang Ying arrived in this city, Xie Yucheng was fifteen years old. Wen Shiqing, being only about ten, might not remember many things clearly, but Xie Yucheng remembered everything vividly.
Yang Ying’s first priority was to erase all traces of his mother, Yuan Ningwan. The sofa was replaced, the old tables were discarded, the Peony Painting his mother had painted on the wall was taken down, and all the bedsheets, pillowcases, and even his mother’s clothes were thrown away.
By the time Xie Yucheng returned home from school, the house had been completely transformed.
The air was thick with the pungent smell of floral water, leaving not a single trace of his mother’s presence.
He opened the wardrobe, only to find it filled with Yang Ying’s dresses, all newly bought for her by Xie Guoli.
He searched the drawers for the small keepsakes his mother had left behind—her comb, her scented cream, her delicate silk scarf—but they were all gone. The drawers were empty.
Even the small quilt in his own room, lovingly hand-sewn by his mother as a memento, had vanished without a trace.
The fifteen-year-old Xie Yucheng went into a rage, confronting Xie Guoli and cursing Yang Ying with every foul word he knew. In the end, Xie Guoli slapped him to the ground.
Yang Ying even handed Xie Guoli a cane, goading him, “A boy who isn’t beaten will never amount to anything.”
At the time, Wen Shiqing was outside playing with other children, completely unaware of what was happening.
Xie Yucheng was brutally beaten by Xie Guoli. Filled with resentment, the next day, to get back at Yang Ying, he shredded all the new clothes in her wardrobe.
Yang Ying told Xie Guoli, “This child really needs to be disciplined, or who knows what trouble he’ll cause.” She brought a rope and had Xie Guoli tie him up in the woodshed next to the kitchen, which was used for storing tools.
Xie Guoli said, “You’ll stay here until you’ve thought it through and apologized to your Aunt Yang.”
Xie Yucheng, stubborn to the bone, glared at them with a venomous expression and spat in contempt.
After all, he was his own son. Xie Yucheng overheard Xie Guoli telling Yang Ying in the yard to bring him some food and water. Yang Ying agreed but never did.
For two days and nights, he went without a drop of water. On the verge of collapse, Wen Shiqing, while playing in the yard, accidentally pushed open the woodshed door. Seeing his lips cracked and dry, she asked, “Brother, do you want some water?”
He nodded, and Wen Shiqing fetched him a half-gourd of water, saving him from dying of thirst.
Her small hand gently touched his face as she asked softly, “Brother, are you playing some game? I haven’t seen you in so long.”
Yang Ying noticed and quickly dragged Wen Shiqing out of the woodshed by the arm, shutting the door. Xie Yucheng heard her spanking Wen Shiqing and warning her not to go near the woodshed.
A short while later, Yang Ying came in and sneered, “Yucheng, I have no interest in being anyone’s stepmother. If you agree to stay out of my way, I’ll talk to your father and have you released sooner. But if you keep opposing me, I promise you won’t have an easy life.”
Xie Yucheng hated her to the core. With his hands and arms bound, he mustered all his strength and lunged forward, headbutting her in the stomach and knocking her to the ground. Yang Ying sat there groaning for a long time before getting up and slapping him twice across the face.
In the end, it was Xie Guoli who released him.
Fathers and sons didn’t hold deep-seated grudges in those days. Many fathers beat their sons half to death, and Xie Guoli was just one of them.
Xie Yucheng, having witnessed Yang Ying’s two-faced nature, no longer confronted her directly but resorted to playing tricks behind her back. She often couldn’t find evidence, leaving her furious and flustered.
As Xie Yucheng grew older, his height shot up dramatically in high school, making him as tall and straight as a poplar tree. He spent most of his time roaming outside and rarely came home. With fewer encounters, conflicts dwindled, and Yang Ying’s attitude gradually softened, even becoming somewhat deliberately ingratiating.
A couple of years ago, Xie Yucheng accidentally discovered Yang Ying fooling around with another man. After much deliberation, he told Xie Guoli, who merely limped away and said, “Stay out of it, and don’t spread it around.”
He didn’t understand why Xie Guoli insisted on maintaining such a hollow marriage. Was it because Yang Ying was young and beautiful?
But since his father didn’t care, it wasn’t his problem either. If Xie Guoli wanted to wear the green hat, so be it—it was none of his business.
After Wen Shiqing returned to her room, she noticed a bag on the table and asked, “Mom, is this what brother brought back earlier?”
Yang Ying, who was sweeping the floor, glanced over and grunted in acknowledgment.
Wen Shiqing opened it—one bag contained a thermos, while the other held golden, fragrant honey small bread.
Her nose suddenly tingled with emotion, and she looked out toward the empty doorway.
By mid-August, another wave of summer heat had arrived.
Xie Yucheng hadn’t returned home for quite some days, and in the midst of this sweltering summer, their relationship had frozen over.
Wen Shiqing’s gaze fixed on the wristwatch on the table, her heart aching.
Over the past few years, she and Xie Yucheng had maintained their fragile sibling relationship in a strange, twisted state.
The sun scorched the earth, waves of heat hovering in the air. The class gathering was held by a cool riverside in the suburbs.
A lively group of young students had brought pots, ingredients, musical instruments, and books. Two cars, along with motorcycles and bicycles, were parked by the roadside. Under the shade of riverside trees, a pot was already set up.
The boys gathered firewood and rolled up their pants to catch fish in the river, while the girls washed and chopped vegetables. The woods echoed with laughter and chatter.
Several female classmates called out to Wen Shiqing, “Shi Qing, come with us to pick mushrooms over there! It rained a few days ago—there must be plenty of fresh ones.”
“Hey, we’re coming too! It’s dangerous for you girls to go alone in this wilderness. You need protectors!” a boy chimed in.
“Zhou Chen, let’s escort these young ladies to pick mushrooms.”
A feisty girl retorted, “Hmph, who needs your escort?”
The group, laughing and chatting, headed in another direction with baskets in hand. Seeing Wen Shiqing and the other girls walking arm in arm, Zhou Chen hurriedly followed with the boys.
The sound of babbling water filled the air, carrying the fresh scent of lush plants. The mushrooms were scattered and required careful searching, though sometimes a single patch would yield a large cluster.
As they wandered, the group gradually split into pairs. The boy who had spoken earlier walked side by side with the feisty girl, while Zhou Chen ended up beside Wen Shiqing.
Their footsteps crunched softly on the grassy forest floor and dry twigs.
“You seem distracted today,” Zhou Chen said.
“I’m not.”
“After our last meeting, did your parents say anything?”
“They said you’re talented and from a good family, and that I should consider it carefully.”
Zhou Chen’s face lit up with surprise. “Really?”
Wen Shiqing said sheepishly, “Yeah, I can’t even be bothered to deal with them. Given our close friendship, how could it possibly turn into that kind of relationship? They’re overthinking things.”
She no longer wanted to tread on the flowers and grass, nor was she in the mood to pick mushrooms, so she walked onto the main road. Each holding a blade of foxtail grass, they strolled along the roadside.
Zhou Chen had originally intended to confess his feelings to her sooner, but her earlier words felt like a blow to the head, making him realize she had no such thoughts for now and only saw him as a good friend.
He wasn’t discouraged, though. Good things take time, and besides, they had just graduated. He would gradually let her know how he felt.