Family Compound Apartment Building.
Leng Hui had just reached her doorstep when she noticed the coal basket placed by the door. The basket was empty of coal lumps, leaving only some black coal dust behind, and there was no sign of Leng Mei inside the house.
Catching the aroma of steaming sweet potatoes, Leng Hui peeked into the cramped kitchen where a cloud of steam rose from the iron pot on the stove.
“Sis, why are you back? If you’re home, who’s taking care of Auntie at the hospital?”
Hearing the voice behind her, Leng Hui turned to see Leng Mei entering with a washbasin in her hands.
Leng Hui sat down and poured herself a glass of water. “There’s no food at the hospital, so of course I came home to eat.”
After hanging up the washcloth and returning the basin to the second branch’s partitioned room, Leng Mei lifted the cloth curtain and emerged. Seeing Leng Hui inspecting the matchboxes she had assembled at the table, she said, “These are the paper boxes Grandma and I brought back yesterday. From last night until today, I’ve only managed to assemble over two hundred. Grandma went to Little Aunt’s house again today and I don’t know when she’ll be back. Sis, since you’re free now, why don’t you help me assemble matchboxes?”
Leng Hui tossed the matchbox onto the table, clapped her hands clean, and raised her eyes to scrutinize the female protagonist before her.
The original novel described this female protagonist as beautiful, kind-hearted, diligent, and capable. From her ability to bring back coal from outside today, she could still be considered somewhat diligent and capable.
As for being beautiful and kind-hearted, Leng Hui could only say that time would tell.
“What’s wrong? Is there something on my face?” Leng Mei felt uneasy under her stare and touched her face, wondering if there were still black coal stains left.
She had just washed her face, so it shouldn’t be possible.
Leng Hui stood up. “Take your time with the matchboxes. I’m going to take a sponge bath and change clothes.”
Living in a corridor-style apartment building meant there was no bathhouse, let alone a private bathroom. Taking a shower was a luxury. While taking care of Tang Lin at the hospital, being able to sponge bathe and change into clean clothes every couple of days was already pretty good.
“Sis, you’re bathing this often? Did the clothes you washed yesterday or the day before even dry yet?”
Leng Mei felt somewhat displeased. The moment she asked for help with the matchboxes, Leng Hui came up with an excuse. The old Leng Hui would never have refused her.
After all, she was still young and couldn’t hide her feelings well. Her displeasure showed clearly on her face, making it easy to guess what she was thinking.
However, Leng Hui wasn’t the original owner and didn’t care about her feelings.
Leng Hui curled her lips slightly. “If I bathe frequently, at least I can stay clean and fresh every day, feeling comfortable all over. But what do I get from helping you assemble matchboxes? You’re the one who gets the money from assembling them, and you’re the one who gains face in front of the elders. What do I get? Can you split the earnings from the tasks you took with me?”
If she could, then helping out wouldn’t be a big deal.
“Sis!” Leng Mei’s face appropriately showed shock and disbelief, as if she never expected Leng Hui to say something so hurtful.
“Both of us haven’t been assigned jobs since leaving school. Helping me assemble matchboxes is just helping to reduce the family’s burden, right? After all, this money is earned for our own family, not given to outsiders.”
“My parents both have jobs. The money they make is enough to support me. Unlike your second branch, where only your father works but has to support your mother and you four siblings.”
The words Leng Hui spoke were like sharp arrows hitting the bullseye with perfect accuracy.
“Hmph, what she didn’t say was that for her, everyone except Tang Lin, her mother, was an outsider.”
Leng Mei’s face darkened, the jealousy in her eyes almost impossible to conceal. “Sis, as Grandma would say, you’re just being overly particular. Washing clothes every two days—the more you wash, the faster they wear out. The clothes Auntie made for you might get ruined after just a few wears. When they end up patched up, don’t go telling people outside that your parents’ earnings all go to supporting our second branch, as if everything we eat and use was provided by you.”
Let’s not forget, her father had a job too.
Leng Hui looked down and straightened her clothes. The outfit she wore—a jacket and trousers—had been made by Tang Lin before the New Year. Since they were intended to be worn over cotton-padded clothes as outer layers, they were cut larger.
Now, wearing them in spring felt almost like wearing loose casual wear, and Leng Hui quite liked the roomier fit.
The fabrics of this era weren’t loaded with technology or harsh chemicals—they were either pure cotton, wool, or cashmere, or at the very least, linen. The once-trendy “Dacron” synthetic fabric, known as “Dacron” abroad, had already made its way into the country and was considered a high-end material.
Domestic production would take a few more years before it was mass-manufactured locally.
Both of Leng Hui’s parents were wage earners. Their first priority was making sure the family had enough to eat and wear. Even if they doted on their children, they wouldn’t splurge on high-end fabrics for their clothes. For an average family, being able to dress warmly in ordinary cotton cloth was already a sign of decent living conditions.
Cotton fabric would fade and look worn after repeated washings, but so what?
In the apocalyptic era, Leng Hui hadn’t had the luxury of staying clean. Here, with an endless supply of unpolluted, radiation-free water, why would she force herself to wander around smelling foul?
“No need to worry about that. If the clothes wear out, I’ll just have my mom make me new ones.”
When it came to provoking envy, Leng Hui had never been one to hold back.
Leng Mei’s face flushed red with anger, her mind buzzing, the word “arrogant” floating before her eyes.
Yes!
Arrogant—that’s exactly what Leng Hui’s attitude was at this moment, Leng Mei thought.
Wasn’t it just because both her parents had jobs? If her own mother could snatch one of those positions, let’s see how long Leng Hui could keep up this arrogance.
Leng Hui paid no mind to what Leng Mei was thinking. There was still half a pot of hot water in the specially designated heating pot. She poured it into a basin and carried it into their main room’s partitioned space.
At this time, Leng Yongkang was at the factory, so she didn’t have to worry about any awkward encounters while washing up.
The main room’s partition was at the very end, with a window about one and a half meters wide at the back. Compared to the second branch’s middle partition, this innermost room had better ventilation and lighting.
However, it was smaller in area. The room was arranged in an L-shape with one large and one small bed, separated by cardboard to create enclosed spaces.
The rest of the room was crammed with a few wooden boxes and a small desk.
Back when Leng Hui was in school, she used this little desk for writing and studying. This small wooden piece of furniture had accompanied her through over a decade of her life, and even now, she could see marks she’d unintentionally carved into it back then.
Aside from the space taken up by stored items, the cramped room had only about one square meter of free floor space.
If she wasn’t careful while washing up, water could easily splash onto the nearby beds.
Leng Hui finished her bath, changed into clean clothes, and gathered her used garments into a basin, planning to wash them thoroughly at the water room later.
Stepping out of the partitioned area, she noticed that Sun Xiaojuan, who had been absent earlier, had returned.
As the saying goes, “When the tiger is away from the mountain, the monkey proclaims himself king.”
This phrase perfectly described Sun Xiaojuan at that moment.
Accurate and fitting.
Sun Xiaojuan had already learned from Leng Mei that Leng Hui was home, but recalling how her scheming from the morning had fallen through, she couldn’t suppress her resentment.
So, when she saw Leng Hui emerge from the partitioned area, she merely glanced at her.
She continued eating sweet potatoes with pickles alongside Leng Mei, ignoring Leng Hui entirely.
Without inviting her to join the meal, she treated Leng Hui as if she were air.
Leng Hui wondered inwardly—could this be considered domestic emotional neglect?
Leng Hui fetched a bowl from the kitchen and picked four or five sweet potatoes from the basin on the table into her bowl.
Slap!
The back of her hand, still holding the sweet potatoes, was struck, leaving a red mark.
New book in growth phase—welcome to bookmark, comment, and vote~