After hearing Jiang Ailian’s words, Shen Zhiyao rolled her eyes inwardly.
If the Qin family owes a debt, then the Qin family should be the ones to make amends first.
Ever since Qin Xiaohui came back, she hadn’t contributed a single cent, yet everything was heaped onto the original owner’s shoulders.
The original owner already had the majority of her salary taken to subsidize the family, and on top of that, she was expected to use her living expenses to buy Qin Xiaohui the best food and snow cream, and to take Qin Xiaohui out to eat, drink, and have fun.
This job at the cotton mill—it was only won after the original owner worked during the day, studied late into the night, and fell ill from exhaustion several times!
Why on earth should she hand it over for free?
But she showed nothing on her face, saying softly, “I want to as well, but the higher-ups said the handover takes time. I’ll do my best to smooth things along. Mom”
Her voice carried a natural sweetness and softness that made Jiang Ailian’s deliberately affected manner pale in comparison. Jiang Ailian’s face instantly went a bit stiff, like a fist landing on cotton.
So all the words she had prepared went unsaid, and she could only nod. “Fine, but hurry it up.”
When she had first told Shen Zhiyao to give her job to Xiaohui, Shen Zhiyao had initially cried and made a fuss. Later, worn down by her earnest persuasion, she had perhaps felt there was sense in what she said and simply fell silent.
Who would have thought she’d change her mind this time?
The corners of Jiang Ailian’s mouth lifted. When A-Cheng came back, she would have a good talk with him—this was entirely her achievement, proof of how well she had raised her daughters.
A moment later, she heard Shen Zhiyao’s soft, delicate voice again. “Mom, I’m not feeling well right now, so I can’t cook.”
Jiang Ailian smiled. “That’s fine.”
With the main issue settled, cooking was naturally a small matter.
She turned around. “Xiaohui, your older sister has agreed to give you her job. Surely it’s only right that you do the cooking then?”
Qin Xiaohui, the true daughter who had been waiting to reap the benefits, was suddenly called out and froze for a moment.
She looked at Qin Hao and Jiang Ailian, feeling rather unwilling.
Weren’t they supposed to be compensating her?
Why did she have to cook?
She had come here to enjoy life, not to suffer.
She pressed her lips together.
Fine. She already had her city household registration and the engagement. For the sake of getting that good job at the cotton mill, she would hold her tongue for now.
Once the job was in her hands, all the housework and grunt work would fall on this Shen Zhiyao who stubbornly refused to leave.
Two days later—
Shen Zhiyao was walking down a quiet road with hardly any traffic, heading toward the red-brick building across the way, carrying a nylon net bag holding two jars of canned yellow peaches.
She climbed the wooden steps one by one, her figure graceful and slender.
“Comrade Shen, here to see the leader again?”
This building housed the leaders of the machinery factory—including the superior of Wen Shaobin, the original owner’s former fiancé.
After Wen Shaobin followed his mother’s wishes and cast aside their years of feelings, he still occasionally strung the original owner along, making her believe the scumbag still had feelings for her and was merely unable to defy his family.
In truth, he simply enjoyed the fact that the great beauty Shen Zhiyao was still chasing after him, along with the envious glances from his coworkers.
But the original owner had never imagined the scumbag’s schemes ran so deep.
Recently, she had often come to the machinery factory to see the leader, hoping he would help talk some sense into the situation.
After all, a woman pursuing a man was hardly a respectable thing in these times.
Passersby held back their laughter, but were startled to notice that Shen Zhiyao looked especially beautiful today.
Normally, that sweet, well-behaved little face of hers was already quite charming, but today she had dressed up with extra care—delicate brows and a graceful bearing, the very picture of a budding beauty.
A pearl headband held back her jet-black, glossy hair, which fell straight down to her waist.
A white fluffy coat over a red dress.
She looked like the graceful maiden from the Book of Songs stepping right out of its pages.
Everyone couldn’t help stealing a few extra glances.
“Hello, Uncle Zhao, Uncle Li, Auntie Zhang.”
Shen Zhiyao smiled warmly, and when she smiled, sweet dimples appeared at the corners of her lips—sweet enough to intoxicate.
She greeted everyone in a friendly, polite manner, as if completely oblivious to the mocking glint of schadenfreude hidden in their eyes.
Hearts are made of flesh, after all, and this only made the uncles and aunties feel embarrassed. “H-hello.”
Shen Zhiyao walked straight up to one of the particularly imposing vermilion doors.
On the door was pasted a red placard with gold characters: “Five-Good Family.”
Knock, knock, knock.
“Who is it?”
Zhao Fengying walked to the door, and when she opened it, a pure, lovely face was revealed.
The moment Zhao Fengying saw Shen Zhiyao, her brow furrowed.
For a moment she didn’t know whether to let her in or not, and finally she let out a deflated sigh and stepped aside. “Come in.”
She walked over to the sofa and casually pointed. “Sit.”
But she didn’t even bother to pour a cup of tea—hardly the treatment one would give a guest.
The truth was, she hadn’t always disliked Shen Zhiyao so much. At first, Shen Zhiyao had been a five-good youth herself—hardworking and kind-hearted.
But ever since her own Qin Xiaohui came back, things had changed.
As for this business with Wen Shaobin—Wen Shaobin had already made it clear he intended to honor the childhood betrothal, so Shen Zhiyao ought to have parted with him amicably.
Instead, things had gotten uglier and uglier.
She had watched with her own eyes as a perfectly good girl like Shen Zhiyao degenerated into what she was now, coming every few days to find her husband Old Qian—since Old Qian was Wen Shaobin’s superior—begging him to talk Wen Shaobin into changing his mind.
How was he supposed to do that?
A melon forced off the vine is never sweet!
“Auntie Zhao, I didn’t come today about Wen Shaobin, so don’t worry.”
Shen Zhiyao gave Zhao Fengying a reassurance first. Seeing the way the woman’s face was still turned away, she knew she hadn’t been believed, but it didn’t matter. “I’m here to sell my job.”
“What?”
The words hit Zhao Fengying like a thunderbolt, jolting her up off the sofa. She hadn’t expected Shen Zhiyao to be so blunt. After a long moment, she hurriedly grabbed Shen Zhiyao’s arm. “Child, don’t do anything foolish…”
Auntie Zhao might have looked down on her, but the heartache and anxiety in her eyes were genuine—she was nearly in tears.
Shen Zhiyao didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She knew outsiders would find it hard to understand her decision to sell her job at the cotton mill—after all, it was such a fine position.
They probably thought she’d rather be shattered jade than intact tile.
But if she kept the job, it wasn’t as if she actually had the skills. Having the memories was one thing; actually being able to do the work was another.
Besides, she had already made up her mind to go find her birth parents.
She looked Zhao Fengying straight in the eye, her gaze sincere. “Auntie, don’t worry. I plan to sell the job first, then go look for my birth parents.”
Zhao Fengying rubbed her eyes. “You’ve come to your senses?”
But she found that hard to believe.
Just a week ago, she’d seen Shen Zhiyao and Wen Shaobin tangled up in a tug-of-war outside the dormitory building.
Shen Zhiyao nodded quickly, her big eyes not daring to blink. “That’s right.”
She put on an expression of sorrow, tears welling in her eyes, on the verge of spilling. “Besides, if I stay here any longer, I’ll only be a nuisance. I might as well leave.”
That delicate, fragile beauty of hers could move even the hardest of hearts.
While feeling sorry for her, Zhao Fengying also let out a long breath of relief.
At Shen Zhiyao’s words, her heart stirred, and she lifted her head, looking at her with a glimmer of hope. “Your job—who do you want to sell it to?”
Shen Zhiyao smiled. “Naturally, to Xiao Fang.”
Qian Fang was Zhao Fengying’s daughter. After graduation, she had been assigned a position at the machinery factory, but after only a few days there, she couldn’t adjust and insisted on quitting.
Zhao Fengying knew the cotton mill suited Qian Fang better. Back then, she hadn’t thought it through—she’d figured that with her father at the machinery factory, he could look after her more easily.
But how was a delicate young girl covered in machine oil every day supposed to find a husband?
A job at the cotton mill was the obvious choice—good benefits, and it would make finding a husband easier, too.
But with such a good job, why would anyone else sell theirs?
So after Qian Fang quit, she had been staying at home for over a year now, without finding a husband either.
She and her Old Qian had worried their hair white over it.
Zhao Fengying’s voice shook with excitement. “Are you serious?”
Shen Zhiyao nodded. “To be honest, I’ve handed all my money over to my family these years, so I don’t have much on hand. All I want now is to leave quietly and go find my birth parents—otherwise, if I see my mom and dad again, I won’t have the heart to go.”
“I don’t want to alert them, but I still need to buy a train ticket, and without money, you can’t take a single step. So I figured I’d sell my job.”