When Yang Ying brought her daughter to the Xie household, Xie Yucheng was 15, and Wen Shiqing was around ten. She was too young to remember many things, but Xie Yucheng remembered everything clearly.
The first thing Yang Ying did was to erase all traces of his mother, Yuan Ningwan. The sofa was replaced, the old table swapped out, the peony painting his mother had painted on the wall was taken down, and all the bed sheets, 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.
Everywhere smelled of pungent floral cologne; not a trace of his mother remained.
He opened the wardrobe, only to find Yang Ying’s dresses inside—all newly bought by Xie Guoli.
He searched the drawers for his mother’s little belongings—her comb, her perfume, her silk scarves—everything was gone, leaving the drawers empty.
Even the small quilt left in his room as a memento, hand-sewn by his mother, was gone, thrown somewhere unknown.
Fifteen-year-old Xie Yucheng went absolutely berserk, angrily questioning Xie Guoli, calling Yang Ying a bitch, a home-wrecker, trash—whatever he thought filthy, he spat it out. Finally, Xie Guoli slapped him hard, knocking him to the ground.
Yang Ying even handed Xie Guoli a rattan cane, provoking him: “A boy won’t become a man unless he’s beaten.”
At the time, Wen Shiqing was outside playing with other children, unaware of anything.
After being brutally beaten, Xie Yucheng seethed with indignation. The next day, to get revenge on Yang Ying, he shredded all the new clothes in her wardrobe.
Yang Ying told Xie Guoli that this child needed strict discipline, or who knew what trouble he might cause. She brought a rope for Xie Guoli to tie him up in the woodshed next to the kitchen.
Xie Guoli said, “You can come out when you’ve decided and apologized to Aunt Yang.”
Xie Yucheng, stubborn as ever, glared at them with a dark, menacing gaze and spat.
Being his own son, Xie Guoli instructed Yang Ying to bring him food and water into the shed, but Yang Ying pretended to obey while secretly withholding it.
After two days and nights with barely a drop of water, nearing collapse, Wen Shiqing accidentally pushed open the woodshed door while playing outside and saw his cracked, dry lips. She asked, “Brother, do you want some water?”
He nodded. Wen Shiqing scooped a half ladle of water for him, finally preventing him from dying of thirst.
She touched his face with her small hands and softly asked, “Brother, what game are you playing? I haven’t seen you for so long.”
Yang Ying saw this and quickly pulled Wen Shiqing by the arm, dragging her out of the shed and closing the door. Xie Yucheng heard her spanking Wen Shiqing’s bottom, warning her not to come near the shed again.
Later, Yang Ying came in, snorting coldly: “Yucheng, I have no interest in being anyone’s stepmother. If you agree to leave me alone, I’ll tell your father to release you soon. But if you continue to oppose me, I guarantee you won’t have an easy life.”
Xie Yucheng hated her with a tooth-gnawing intensity. With his hands and arms tied, he stretched his head and smashed into her stomach, knocking her to the ground. Yang Ying, sitting there, groaned for a long time before getting up and slapping him twice with both hands.
In the end, it was Xie Guoli who finally let him go.
There wasn’t any deep, irreconcilable hatred between father and son. In those days, it was common for fathers to beat their sons almost to death; Xie Guoli was just one of many.
Xie Yucheng witnessed Yang Ying’s duplicity and stopped confronting her directly, instead playing tricks on her behind the scenes. She often couldn’t find evidence and would become furious.
Later, as Xie Yucheng grew taller and shot up after entering high school, his figure becoming like a tall poplar tree, he often stayed out and rarely went home. Without seeing each other, disputes became rare. Yang Ying’s attitude gradually softened, even showing deliberate attempts to please him.
A couple of years ago, Xie Yucheng accidentally discovered that Yang Ying was secretly involved with another man. After much thought, he told Xie Guoli. Xie Guoli, limping on one leg, simply said: “Don’t interfere, and don’t tell anyone.”
He didn’t understand why Xie Guoli maintained such a hollow, sham marriage—was it just because Yang Ying was young and beautiful?
But since his father didn’t care, there was nothing he could do. If Xie Guoli wore the green hat, it wasn’t his problem.
After returning to her room, Wen Shiqing saw a bag on the table and asked, “Mom, is this what brother just brought back?”
Yang Ying was sweeping and glanced at it, giving a short, “Mm.”
Wen Shiqing opened it to find a bag with a thermos and another filled with golden, sweet honey buns.
Her nose tingled, and she glanced at the empty doorway outside.
By mid-August, another wave of summer heat had arrived.
Xie Yucheng hadn’t returned home for many days, and during this scorching summer, their relationship had hit rock bottom.
Wen Shiqing’s eyes lingered on the watch on the table, her heart aching.
For years, she and Xie Yucheng had existed in this strange, twisted way, maintaining a fragile sibling bond.
The sun scorched the earth, and heatwaves hovered in the air. Their classmates’ gathering was set at a cool riverside outside the city.
A lively group of young students brought cookware, ingredients, musical instruments, and books. Two cars, plus motorcycles and bicycles, were parked by the roadside. Pots were set up under the riverside shade.
The boys collected firewood and rolled up their pants to catch fish in the river; the girls washed and cut vegetables. The forest echoed with laughter.
A few female classmates called to Wen Shiqing: “Shiqing, let’s go over there to pick mushrooms! It rained a few days ago, there must be lots of fresh ones.”
“Hey, we’ll come too. It’s dangerous for girls to go alone in the wild; we need bodyguards,” said a boy, coming closer.
“Zhou Chen, let’s escort these girls to pick mushrooms,” said a fiery little girl.
“Hmph, we don’t need your escort!” the girl snapped.
The group giggled and carried baskets toward another direction. Seeing Wen Shiqing holding hands with her female classmates, Zhou Chen hurried to keep up with the boys.
The soft murmur of flowing water and the scent of lush plants filled the air. Mushrooms grew scattered and required careful searching. Sometimes finding one cluster meant a large bounty.
As they walked, somehow everyone paired off. The boy who had spoken earlier walked alongside the fiery girl, and Zhou Chen walked beside Wen Shiqing.
Their feet crunched on soft grass and fallen branches in the forest.
“You seem a little distracted today,” Zhou Chen said.
“No,” she replied.
“After we met last time, did your parents say anything?”
“They said you’re talented and from a good family, and that I should think carefully.”
Zhou Chen looked pleasantly surprised. “Really?”
Wen Shiqing blushed. “Yes, but I didn’t even bother responding to them. Our friendship shouldn’t get tangled in that. They’re overthinking.”
She no longer wanted to step on flowers and grass, nor collect mushrooms, so they walked along the main road, each holding a blade of foxtail grass.
Zhou Chen had hoped to confess his feelings, but her words hit him like a slap—he realized she wasn’t thinking about romance yet. He’d just be a good friend for now.
He wasn’t discouraged. Good things take time. They had just graduated, and he would gradually show her his feelings.