“Look, look, didn’t I tell you? This new daughter-in-law is no pushover.”
Outside the waist-high earthen wall, Li Hongmei, the workshop director’s wife, was holding a chipped enamel mug and brushing her teeth.
Frothed white bubbles spattered against the mud wall with every word she spat out. She craned her thick neck, practically wishing she could pop her eyeballs out and throw them straight into the Huo family courtyard.
“Just yesterday, that old hag was bragging to us about how easy this country girl would be to handle—saying she’d have her fetching her foot-washing water the minute she stepped through the door.” Li Hongmei nudged the woman next to her with her elbow, her face dripping with unconcealed schadenfreude. “Listen to that racket! She didn’t get any foot-washing water, but she got herself so riled up she collapsed right on the ground!”
Auntie Liu stood on a half-broken brick, clutching a pair of freshly snapped scallions she’d managed to snag at the supply and marketing cooperative.
“That Su girl looks like a stiff breeze could knock her over, but she’s got plenty of tricks up her sleeve,” Auntie Liu sneered, putting on the airs of a worldly sage. “Riding the coattails of the neighborhood bully while his fresh affection hasn’t worn off yet, she actually had the nerve to embarrass her mother-in-law right out of the gate. Just wait a couple of days until the novelty fades. She’ll get what’s coming to her!”
The gossiping aunties and sisters-in-law kept their voices low, buzzing like a swarm of green-bottle flies circling a latrine. Riding the morning breeze, every last word slipped right through the cracks of the newlywed couple’s door.
Inside.
Huo Jingye gripped his broomstick so hard his knuckles turned dead white.
Of all things, Huo Jingye hated people whispering behind his back the most. Stirring up trouble around the courtyard on a regular day was one thing, but today these old biddies actually had the gall to climb up onto his family’s wall to watch a circus show?
He snapped his head around to look at Su清宛 on the bed.
Su Qingwan’s face, no bigger than the palm of a hand, was drained of all color. Her slender fingers tightly clutched the bright red quilt, her brows knitted together in pain.
She had both hands pressed firmly over her ears like a frightened, cornered little rabbit, even her long eyelashes trembling violently with anxiety.
To Huo Jingye, that sight felt like someone driving a knife straight into his flesh.
His wife had been coughing up blood just yesterday. Her body was so weak she could barely walk straight, and now these gossiping hags were out here making enough racket to keep her from getting any sleep!
A surge of blind fury rushed straight to his head.
Huo Jingye’s back teeth ground together with a sharp crunch. He dropped the broomstick, strode over to the corner, and snatched up the heavy bamboo broom usually reserved for clearing deep winter snow.
Gripping it in one hand, he strode right out the door.
In the courtyard, Zhang Guifang was still sitting on the ground, slapping her thighs and wailing at the top of her lungs.
Huo Jingye didn’t even spare her a glance.
Radiating a murderous aura, he marched straight toward the earthen wall choked with luffa vines.
The gossipmongers up on the wall were just hitting their stride when a tall, dark silhouette of overwhelming oppression suddenly loomed at the base of the wall.
Li Hongmei jumped, nearly shoving her toothbrush straight down her throat. Before she could even get a word out, Huo Jingye hoisted the heavy bamboo broom and, with a vicious sweep of wind, smashed it right down against the luffa vines on the wall.
Crack—!
The dry bamboo bristles slammed into the vines, sending a cascade of withered green leaves, dirt clods, and bugs raining down directly onto Li Hongmei and Auntie Liu.
“Aiyo!”
A stray bamboo splinter clipped Li Hongmei right on the forehead, leaving a bright red scratch. A mouthful of toothpaste foam mixed with yellow dirt choked her into a violent fit of coughing.
Auntie Liu lost her footing entirely, tumbling off the half-broken brick and sending her two scallions flying far into the distance.
“Don’t you people have anything better to do? Are you that starved for excitement that you have to come gawk at my family’s wall?”
Huo Jingye braced one hand on the broom handle, looking like a fierce guardian deity guarding a temple. He lifted his unruly, defiant chin and glared viciously at the disheveled mob outside the wall.
“Li Hongmei!” he barked, calling her out by name loud enough for half the residential compound to hear. “Do you want me to broadcast it over the factory loudspeaker that your old man smuggled two threaded steel bars out of the workshop yesterday?”
Li Hongmei had just finished wiping the dirt off her face, but the moment she heard that, her face turned pale green. In this era, stealing collective property from a state-run factory was a grave crime punishable by prison time!
“You… you’re talking nonsense! I’m leaving!” Clutching her enamel mug, Li Hongmei tucked her tail and bolted faster than a frightened rabbit.
Huo Jingye let out a cold snort and fixed his gaze on Auntie Liu, who was just picking herself up.
“Auntie Liu, you took a five-yuan kickback under the table for setting up that match for old man Zhang last month. Does the neighborhood committee director know about that?”
Auntie Liu’s old face flushed red, and she didn’t even bother trying to pick up the scallions lying in the dirt. “Ugh, this Huo boy has got a vicious tongue! Let’s go, let’s go, I’m done watching!”
She waved off the remaining sisters-in-law, and the whole group scattered like cats with their tails stepped on. In the blink of an eye, the top of the wall was completely deserted, not a single ghost in sight.
The courtyard finally quieted down. Only the rustle of the cold wind blowing through the treetops remained.
Zhang Guifang, still sitting on the ground, cut her wailing short. She stared in dumbfounded shock at her son’s lightning-fast handiwork. How on earth did this punk know so much detail about other people stealing steel bars and taking bribes?
Huo Jingye turned around to look at his own mother still planted on the ground.
Half of the fire in his chest had died down, but his tone remained as stiff as ever.
“Get up, Mom. The ground’s cold.” He planted the heavy bamboo broom against a bluestone slab. “If you keep sitting there and your old rheumatism acts up, it’s going to be my money paying for the pain-relief patches at the factory clinic.”
Zhang Guifang rolled her eyes so hard she nearly choked on the words. She scrambled up off the ground, dusted off the seat of her trousers, and muttered, “I must have built up some bad karma in my past life to give birth to a mallet like you!”
Knowing she had completely lost the battle to establish her dominance today, Zhang Guifang grumbled curses under her breath, spun around, and slammed the main house door shut with a loud bang. If she couldn’t afford to win, she could at least afford to hide.
The spacious courtyard finally grew completely peaceful.
Huo Jingye stood in the middle of the yard, taking a deep breath of the crisp, chilly morning air. He looked down at the bamboo broom in his hand.
Now that his outburst was over, only half of the restless energy—the kind he usually burned off in street brawls—had drained away. That pent-up vitality was still buzzing through his veins.
He looked around.
The red wedding confetti scattered all over the floor from yesterday’s celebrations was mixed with the luffa leaves he’d just beaten off the wall, plus piles of coal-dust ash swept out from the corner. The whole courtyard looked like a pigpen.
Huo Jingye frowned.
An image of Su Qingwan’s pale, delicate face suddenly flashed through his mind. His wife had coughed up blood; her lungs had to be as fragile as porcelain. With the courtyard this filthy, the wind would just whip up clouds of dust, and if it choked her into another coughing fit…
No way.
Huo Jingye tightened his grip on the broom handle. His woman was going to live in a place that was clean, neat, and comfortable!
The wide muscles of his back tensed beneath his thin floral shirt, radiating the fierce, ruthless momentum of a street brawler. He hoisted the large bamboo broom and went to war against the fallen leaves and coal dust covering the yard.
Swish—swish—swish—
The coarse bamboo bristles scraped rhythmically against the brick-paved ground. Huo Jingye swept without any real technique, relying purely on brute strength, but he was meticulous. He even used the tip of the broom to aggressively dig out the decades-old grime wedged deep between the brick crevices.
A few families nearby were just getting ready to leave for work. Peeking through their doorways, they caught sight of the notorious Huo neighborhood bully—the guy who usually walked around with a switchblade in his pocket and a permanent scowl for everyone he met—bent over his tall frame, huffing and puffing as he swept the courtyard.
The grown men stared in utter disbelief, rubbing their eyes hard as if they’d run into a ghost first thing in the morning.
Inside the bridal chamber, the chaos outside had completely died down. Only the rhythmic swish-swish of sweeping drifted in through the paper-lined windows.
To Su Qingwan’s ears, that sound was better than any lullaby in the world.
She rolled over, pulled the heavy red wedding quilt smelling faintly of sunshine and laundry soap tight around herself, and cocooned herself inside.
In her past life, she would have been yanked out of bed by her mother-in-law at this exact hour every single day—emptying chamber pots, lighting the coal stove, and standing in long lines at the supply depot just to scramble for the freshest bruised cabbage leaves. She had spent her days waiting on the six members of the Shen family hand and foot, spinning like a top that never got to stop.
But in this lifetime?
The notorious neighborhood brute outside was blocking every single gust of wind and every ounce of harassment before it could even reach her door.
Su Qingwan buried her face in the pillow, a deeply satisfied smile curving the corners of her lips.
No mother-in-law giving her the cold shoulder. No freezing water first thing in the morning.
This extended morning nap was absolute bliss.
She closed her eyes and drifted off into a deep, peaceful sleep against the backdrop of the steady sweeping outside.
…
When she finally woke up again, the sun had already climbed past the old locust tree on the east side of the compound.
Golden sunlight streamed through the glass pane pasted over with old newspapers, casting mottled patches of light across the brick floor.
Su Qingwan gave a lazy stretch, her joints letting out a faint, satisfying pop.
Immediately afterward, however, a dull ache radiated outward from her lower back.
Frowning, she reached back to massage her stiff lumbar region. That old-fashioned 1980s wooden plank bed didn’t even have a proper spring mattress—just a thin, hardened layer of cotton padding laid over slats. Lying on it for a whole night plus half a day had left her delicate bones aching all over.
She had shortchanged herself way too much.
Su Qingwan bit her lip. Living this life over again, she had come here to enjoy herself, not to suffer on some broken wooden plank bed.
Creak—
The old wooden door was gently pushed open with a foot.
Huo Jingye walked in carefully, carrying a red double-happiness enamel basin trailing wisps of hot steam. Inside was freshly boiled warm water mixed to just the right temperature, with a brand-new white towel draped neatly over the rim.
His forehead was slick with sweat, and a few damp strands of his slightly longer mullet clung to his brow bones. The sleeves of his floral shirt were rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong, powerful forearms smudged with a few streaks of black soot—clear evidence that he’d just finished tending to the coal stove.
Seeing that Su Qingwan was awake, Huo Jingye instantly softened his stride. For all his massive frame, he walked like a giant bear trying not to crush an eggshell.
“Awake?”
He set the basin down on the chipped nightstand beside the bed, dropping his voice to a low murmur. “Hungry? I went down to the cafeteria earlier and got two meat buns; they’re still keeping warm in the pot.”
As he spoke, he rubbed his soot-stained hands together nervously, terrified of dirtying the air inside the room.
Su Qingwan watched his clumsy, eager-to-please performance, her dark eyes rolling thoughtfully.
She pushed herself halfway up, the red quilt sliding down her shoulders to reveal her delicate, graceful collarbones. Instead of reaching for the towel, she leaned back against the hard wooden headboard with a soft, helpless air.
Her slender fingers rhythmically massaged the small of her back.
In a fraction of a second, the rims of her eyes turned red.
“Husband…”
The single word carried a lingering, fragile sweetness, heavy with a thick, stuffy nasal tone.
Huo Jingye’s heart clenched tight, and his hand holding the basin gave a slight jolt. A few drops of hot water splashed onto the back of his soot-stained hand, but he didn’t even twitch an eyebrow.
“What’s wrong? Does somewhere hurt? Should we go to the factory clinic?”
Panicked, he took a long stride right up to the bedside, wanting to touch her but not daring to reach out.
Su Qingwan lifted her tear-misty eyes and locked them directly onto the man’s anxious gaze. She sniffled and let out a soft, pitiful whisper loaded with supreme grievance:
“My back hurts so much. I want a genuine leather sofa.”