After leaving the factory compound, Xie Yucheng rode his bike to another place.
He stood outside the courtyard gate, finished an entire cigarette, and only then strolled over.
The man inside heard the noise and came out. When he saw who it was, his gaze instantly darkened. His facial muscles twitched, and his expression turned ugly.
“Cheng… Brother Cheng, y-you’re here?”
He made no move to invite Xie Yucheng inside.
Xie Yucheng stood in the courtyard, his expression cold, his voice low and heavy. “I was in the area on some business, thought I’d stop by to see you.”
Yuan Li stepped forward, his face full of difficulty. “Brother Cheng, I… I really don’t have the money to pay you back right now.”
Xie Yucheng got straight to the point, his tone icy. “Yuan Li, it’s been two years. Do you know what lending you twenty thousand yuan two years ago meant to me? You said your wife was sick. I didn’t hesitate—I lent you the money. I treated you like a brother. And how did you repay me? Your wife got better, your family moved into a new house, bought a TV, and yet you still have no money to repay me. Is that it?”
Yuan Li had some distant family ties with Xie Yucheng’s maternal relatives, and the two had grown up playing together. Back then, it had been a matter of life and death—when he came to borrow the money, he had even knelt in front of him. Xie Yucheng had only thought about helping him through the emergency first.
Who could have known that he would drag it out until now—more than two years later—and have no intention of repaying the debt at all.
“It’s not like that, Brother Cheng. This house and the furniture were all supported by my father-in-law. I really don’t have any money right now. If I had even a bit, I’d definitely pay you back.”
“Yuan Li, I won’t lie to you. I’m planning to buy a car right now, and I’m a bit short. I really need the money. I’m not asking you to pay it all back at once—just return whatever you have on hand.”
A woman came out of the house holding a child. When she saw that it was Xie Yucheng here to collect the debt, the smile on her face froze instantly.
Her lips curved downward, her face tense as she walked over.
“Brother Cheng, we don’t have any money at all right now—not a single cent. Don’t push us.”
Xie Yucheng was so angry he almost laughed. These people—when borrowing money, they acted like grandsons; when it was time to repay, they became lords.
All sense of brotherhood was gone. He issued his final ultimatum to Yuan Li: “Pay it back in full before the end of the year. If you can’t, you can forget about keeping your job at your work unit.”
After Xie Yucheng left, Yuan Li’s wife spat toward his retreating back. “What kind of person is he? We only owe him a bit of money, yet he acts so high and mighty. What’s he being arrogant about!”
Yuan Li irritably raked a hand through his hair. “Brother Cheng is really heartless. I already told him we don’t have money for now, and he still insists on forcing us to repay.”
His wife shot him a sideways glance. “You borrowed the money yourself. Figure out a way to deal with it.”
He frowned, rubbed his face in dejection, and followed his wife back into the house, looking utterly defeated.
After the hen Ali, the one her brother had given her, died, Wen Shiqing took on the responsibility of caring for her offspring. That little chick became her last hope.
She named it Sansan—representing her three wishes:
“Sansan, this time, I’ll protect you,” she said softly, her slender hand gently stroking the chick’s fluffy feathers.
Inside the house, Yang Ying stood before the mirror carefully outlining her red lips. She touched her temples, the corners of her mouth curving upward, extremely satisfied with the gorgeous face reflected back at her.
“You’re going out?” Xie Guoli, who was reading a newspaper nearby, suddenly looked up.
Yang Ying cleared her throat. “To buy groceries.”
“You’re just buying groceries—why are you dressed up so nicely?”
The woman snorted lightly. “Who says you can’t dress like this to buy groceries?”
Xie Guoli couldn’t be bothered to argue with her. He had always known that Yang Ying loved to look beautiful, and it had earned him quite a bit of face over the years.
“Buy some things Yucheng likes to eat. He’s been in the city lately—he might come home at any time.”
Yucheng, Yucheng—his eyes were always on that son of his. Yet he never seemed to worry about Shiqing’s lifelong happiness.
Yang Ying’s brows knit slightly as she pouted, then she turned and smiled gently at Xie Guoli. “I know. Even if you didn’t say it, I’d remember.”
After tidying up and slinging her small handbag over her shoulder, her water-snake-like slim waist twisted into the courtyard. She stopped by the chicken coop and said to her daughter, who was squatting there, “Nannan, baby, Mom’s heading out. Is there anything you’d like to eat?”
“Mom, there’s nothing I really want,” Wen Shiqing replied, focused on adding water and feed for Sansan.
“It’s too sunny outside. Go back inside soon—don’t get tanned.”
“Got it.”
After the weather fully cleared, Xie Yucheng returned home to grab a few changes of clothes.
The moment he stepped into the courtyard, Sansan came wobbling over to his feet. He frowned and lightly nudged it aside with his foot.
Sansan lost its balance. Its round little body rolled once on the ground, then it got up and ran back to his feet again.
Wherever he went, it followed with tiny, quick steps, even pecking at the leg of his pants with its sharp beak.
A glimmer flashed through Xie Yucheng’s dark eyes. He clicked his tongue and muttered, “Annoying—just like someone.”
He squatted down, grabbed it by the neck with one large hand, tossed the chick into the coop, and shut the door cleanly.
Eight years ago, Xie Guoli had brought a strange woman into the house. Following behind her was a little girl about ten years old. Xie Yucheng resented how quickly Xie Guoli had forgotten his mother, and he regarded that woman as an enemy who had stolen another’s nest.
He had been fifteen then, right in the throes of a turbulent adolescence. After his mother’s death, he became even more despondent and unruly—neglecting his studies and spending his days hanging out with a gang of brothers, getting into trouble.
At their first meeting, his fierce glare scared Wen Shiqing into hiding behind Yang Ying, not daring to poke her head out, only sneaking timid glances at him.
Xie Guoli looked gentle as he took her small hand and brought her forward. “Shiqing, this is your brother.”
She blinked her grape-like eyes and softly called out, “Brother.” Her mouth was small, her voice soft and tender, like the little sparrows Xie Yucheng used to shoot down from trees with his slingshot.
Xie Yucheng glared viciously at his father, feeling as if not only everything his mother had once possessed was being taken over by another woman, but even his own unique place in his father’s heart was about to be lost.
With a flash of malice in his eyes, he shoved Wen Shiqing hard and ran out. She fell to the ground and burst into tears.
That was also why Yang Ying disliked him from the very first glance.
Back then, there were only two bedrooms in the house. He and Wen Shiqing shared one, separated by a cloth curtain.
He always bullied her in secret, venting the resentment in his heart.
“Your mom is a fox spirit—and so are you.”
“One day, I’ll drive both of you out of my house.”
Ten-year-old Wen Shiqing didn’t understand why her brother hated her so much. But she liked her brother very much—having a brother felt like something to be proud of.
She often followed behind him. When he went out to fight with others or do petty thieving, she tagged along like a little shadow.
At first, Xie Yucheng was afraid she’d go back and tattle to Xie Guoli. Later, he realized she simply liked sticking close to him.
Ten-year-old Wen Shiqing had all kinds of strange, curious questions.
For example:
“Brother, why do you fight?”
“Brother, what’s inside an ant nest?”
“Brother, if you catch the mother bird, what happens to her babies?”
Xie Yucheng couldn’t be bothered to deal with her. Once, when he was truly fed up with her chattering, he slapped her on the butt. “Can you be quiet!”
Wen Shiqing’s eyes instantly filled with tears. She looked at him pitifully, like a poor little puppy, utterly wronged.
Yang Ying came out, saw the scene, and shot Xie Yucheng an unhappy look. She pulled her daughter to the side and asked in a low voice, “Nannan, did your brother bully you?”
Shiqing shook her head. Unable to hold it in any longer, she wailed, “Brother didn’t bully me, Mom. I fell down by myself. My butt really hurts.”