Song Xinran returned to the dormitory carrying her belongings. Chen Jingfang was quite pleased to see her loaded with packages, remarking that she only splurged like this when going home. Noticing how much she was carrying, Chen Jingfang insisted on helping her to the bus stop.
"Xinran, you really should think carefully. The glass factory offers high wages and good benefits—you won't find a better job," Chen Jingfang continued persuading while they waited for the bus.
Song Xinran replied, "Sister Fang, I have my own plans. Don't worry."
"Then tell me, what are you planning to do?"
Song Xinran wasn't fond of sharing her plans before taking concrete action, as she firmly believed that success came through discretion. However, seeing Chen Jingfang's genuine concern, she vaguely responded, "I've noticed many people setting up stalls in town. I'm thinking of doing the same."
Chen Jingfang shook her head repeatedly. "How can setting up a stall compare to working at the glass factory? We get our wages on time every month, while they work from dawn to dusk just to earn a meager income. Look at the people running stalls in our town—they're all elderly without the ability to work. No young person would do that."
Song Xinran knew she couldn't force others to change their views. It was a limitation of the times and their remote location; people here had no idea how lucrative street vending could be in big cities. She could only offer an embarrassed smile. "I just want to give it a try."
Chen Jingfang shook her head again. "You should think about your child too. How will he survive if you can't make money?"
Song Xinran didn't know how to explain and could only respond with an awkward laugh.
After a few more attempts to persuade her, Chen Jingfang fell silent upon seeing her stubbornness. She sighed inwardly, feeling sorry for the child—Song Xinran was still too young and naive.
Looking up, Chen Jingfang spotted the bus approaching in the distance. "You have a lot to carry. Let me help you board," she said, picking up Song Xinran's luggage without waiting for a response.
Song Xinran tried to stop her but was brushed aside. Before the bus doors opened, she quickly whispered, "Sister Fang, the glass factory has already delayed wages for two months, and who knows how long it will continue? You should talk to the factory director…"
Chen Jingfang was about to say that the factory had promised to pay next month when Song Xinran added, "Just tell him your family is truly out of money and ask to borrow some, to be deducted from your wages later. Plead with him nicely."
"The bus is here, I have to go!" Without giving Chen Jingfang a chance to respond, Song Xinran hurried onto the bus, found a seat, and waved to Chen Jingfang through the window.
Chen Jingfang, still somewhat dazed, waved back instinctively. It wasn't until the bus drove away that she snapped out of it.
She had always believed the factory would eventually pay the wages. After all, the glass factory had been in town for over a decade and had never missed a payroll—workers trusted it completely. But then it occurred to her: they had never delayed payments before, let alone for two months.
Song Xinran's words lingered in her mind, especially since she had offered a solution. Chen Jingfang had never considered asking the factory director for a loan.
Since their factory was privately owned, the director had the final say on everything, including wages. If he said they would be paid next month, there was no need to worry about her not repaying a loan.
But if the director refused outright, that would be suspicious. It might mean wages wouldn't be paid next month either, or that the factory simply had no money…
The thought sent a shiver down Chen Jingfang's spine. She quickly reassured herself that it was impossible—there were so many workers relying on the factory.
However, who exactly came up with the idea of borrowing money from the factory director? Someone who could suggest such a thing clearly didn’t seem foolish, so why would they give up a job at the glass factory to set up a street stall?
Song Xinran sat in the back row of the bus. It was mid-afternoon, and there weren’t many passengers on board. The old diesel bus rumbled along the road, carrying the distinct smell of poultry and livestock.
She pushed open the iron-framed glass window, and a rush of fresh air from outside poured in.
It was late October. Fields stretched along both sides of the road, lush with green sweet potato vines. Some farmers were cutting the vines and stuffing them into baskets to take home for feeding pigs, while others wielded hoes to dig up sweet potatoes.
The peanut plants were also a vibrant green. When the peanuts were pulled from the soil, one could almost smell their fresh sweetness and the damp, earthy scent.
Instantly, numerous ways to cook peanuts and sweet potatoes popped into Song Xinran’s mind. Freshly harvested peanuts, boiled with just the right amount of salt, would be delicious—a perfect blend of savory and sweet, ideal for snacking while watching TV.
"Where to?" Just as she was lost in thought, the conductor, carrying a bag, approached and asked.
Song Xinran replied, "Shiyan Village."
As she spoke, she handed over one yuan.
The conductor took the money, placed it in her bag, and moved on.
The area where Song Xinran lived was quite remote. The buses running from the town to the villages were privately operated and only ran on market days—the 3rd, 6th, and 9th of the lunar month. Passengers paid the fare directly to the conductor after boarding.
After about ten minutes on the asphalt road, the bus suddenly jolted and turned onto a muddy path. It rocked and swayed for another ten minutes or so before finally coming to a stop.
The conductor announced, "Shiyan Village is here."
The few remaining passengers got off together—this was the final stop.
From the diary of the original host, Song Xinran knew that it would take another ten minutes on foot to reach her sister Song Xinwen’s house. She had initially worried that, without the original host’s memories, she might get lost. But as soon as she saw the surroundings, everything felt vaguely familiar, and she instinctively followed the path.
When she looked up and spotted a two-story red brick house, Song Xinran knew it was her sister Song Xinwen’s home.
A smile spread across her face—she had finally arrived.
And at last, she would get to see Song Yu. This wasn’t just the original host’s wish; it was hers as well. While reading the book, she had developed a fondness for the grown-up male supporting character.
"Catch him! He stole my candy!"
"Thief! Come help me catch the thief!"
A group of boisterous children came running over, some brandishing sticks, shouting and chasing with triumphant energy.
The one being pursued was a small, thin boy. His clothes were a bit too short, revealing his slender limbs. With his lips pressed tightly together, he ran swiftly, darting right past Song Xinran.
The moment she saw this child, Song Xinran’s heart felt as if it had been pricked—aching and swelling with emotion. In an instant, she understood.
She stepped to the side, blocking the path of the chasing children.
Before she could speak, the child at the front, holding a stick, looked up and recognized her, calling out brightly, "Auntie!"
Then, noticing the bags she was carrying, his eyes lit up. He reached out with a grubby hand to tug at one of the bags. "Auntie, what did you buy? Do you have any of that candy from last time?"
From the way he addressed her, Song Xinran immediately knew this boy was Cai Yang, Song Yu's cousin. In the novel, Cai Yang had graduated from vocational high school and gone out to work, but buying a car and house relied entirely on his parents and Song Yu's financial support. Later, he even wanted to work at Song Yu's company, but due to his educational background, his resume couldn't even pass the initial screening.
As a child, Cai Yang often bullied Song Yu, and as he grew older, this turned into jealousy. He took Song Yu's money while simultaneously resenting him.
Eventually, Song Yu cut ties with his aunt's family and stopped providing Cai Yang with any assistance. Already hopelessly incompetent, Cai Yang ended up with his wife leaving him and his family falling apart.
But…
Song Xinran looked at the chubby boy in front of her, hardly able to believe that this cousin, only a month younger than Song Yu, was already a head taller and noticeably sturdier and more robust. "Cai Yang?"
Cai Yang used both hands, straining to take the largest bag from Song Xinran. It rustled noisily—definitely full of snacks.
Every time his aunt came home, she would buy him lots of treats, but today, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't wrest the bag away. His eyes darted around, and he said, "Auntie, I'm a little thirsty. Let's buy a bottle of Sprite to take home."
He glanced toward the small shop nearby—the only one in the village. It didn't have much variety, and a large bottle of Sprite cost five yuan, something only bought when guests visited. Cai Yang had been craving it.
Song Xinran: ?
Still thinking about Sprite? He might as well drink the northwest wind.
She yanked the bag firmly back toward herself. Although the original host's body wasn't particularly strong, she wasn't about to be bullied by a three-year-old.
Looking down at the chubby boy with a stern expression and no smile, she said, "You just said Xiao Yu took your things. What did he take? Do you have any proof?"
"I… I didn't take anything." A faint, timid voice sounded from behind Song Xinran.
She turned and saw the little boy who had run past her earlier standing not far away.
His hands were clenched tightly on the hem of his shirt, his posture tense. His face was flushed from running, and his eyes were filled with helplessness and panic.
Now that he had quieted down, Song Xinran noticed his hair was a bit too long, chopped unevenly as if by a dog—some strands long, others short. Clearly, it had been haphazardly cut at home with scissors.
He wore ill-fitting, thin clothes, and his exposed wrists were so slender they looked as though they might break with the slightest pressure. His pants were a bit dirty, likely from a fall during the chase. On his feet were a pair of flip-flops on the verge of snapping. Compared to the other children, he looked as if he had just emerged from a garbage dump.
The ache in Song Xinran's heart grew heavier. She waved at the child and smiled. "Xiao Yu, come here."
But Song Yu stood timidly in place, too afraid to approach her.
Song Xinran walked over to him instead, stopping by his side. She set down one of the bags she was holding, bent down, and took his small hand, which was held stiffly at his side.
He seemed startled for a moment, then wriggled his hand slightly like a kitten. Song Xinran held on firmly, not letting him pull away, and he soon stopped resisting. He lowered his head gently, a shy, flustered look in his eyes, and stole a sidelong glance at Song Xinran's hand before standing quietly beside her.
Song Xinran lifted her head and looked at Cai Yang. "Come here."
Her expression was stern and serious, almost intimidating. Though Cai Yang was used to throwing his weight around at home, he was still just a three-year-old child and felt a bit scared. Hesitantly, he shuffled slowly toward her.
The other children also knew how to read the atmosphere. They exchanged glances and were about to head home when Song Xinran stopped them: "None of you are allowed to leave either."
Song Xinran first directed her firepower at Cai Yang alone: "Explain clearly—why were you chasing Xiao Yu!"
Cai Yang was somewhat frightened and could only shout loudly to boost his courage: "He took my candy! He stole from me! He's a bad kid!"
Song Yu, who seemed to have found support, now mustered more courage and said in a slightly louder voice: "I didn’t… That was the candy Mom gave me…"
At this point, he secretly lifted his head to glance at Song Xinran. Meeting her encouraging expression and gently smiling eyes, he gained confidence: "I was just taking back the candy box. I didn’t steal anything."
"Shut up!" Song Xinran snapped, cutting off Cai Yang’s words. "Was that candy yours? I bought that candy for Xiao Yu, and you snatched it and bullied him. Who’s the real thief here?"
After saying this, she swept a sharp gaze over the other children. Every child she looked at fell silent, even breathing more quietly. Song Xinran said, "And all of you—you joined in chasing Song Yu too. You’re also at fault!"
One child tried to shift the blame: "It was Cai Yang. It’s all Cai Yang’s fault."
"Yeah, yeah! He said Song Yu stole something!"
The children began chattering and shifting blame. One of the girls walked up to Song Yu and whispered, "Sorry, Song Yu."
Following her lead, the other children apologized to Song Yu one after another.
Song Yu kept a stern little face, looking very serious, and replied to each of them, "It’s okay."
He appeared composed, but inside, his heart was pounding like a little rabbit, thumping so hard it felt like it might leap out of his chest.
In the past, when Song Yu was bullied, he had never received apologies from the other children. But when Cai Yang was watching TV, he had cautiously watched along and learned that when someone apologizes, you should say "it’s okay"—that’s what makes a polite child.
Now that he was being polite, would Mom still leave…?
He didn’t dare lift his head to look at Song Xinran.
The children who had apologized all left, leaving only Cai Yang behind. Cai Yang, who had always been the leader among the children in the village, was experiencing such a disparity for the first time.
Song Xinran stared at Cai Yang: "Aren’t you going to apologize?"
Cai Yang looked up, glanced at her, then at Song Yu, and with a loud "Waaah!", burst into tears and ran off.