During the day, Leng Yongkang had complained that Tang Lin wasn’t virtuous enough and didn’t prioritize her husband, but by nighttime, Tang Lin had banished him to Leng Hui’s small bed.
The mother and daughter slept on the larger bed, while Leng Yongkang, a grown man, was relegated to the small one.
Truth be told, the larger bed wasn’t particularly spacious—only 1.2 meters wide—and the small bed measured roughly 80 centimeters across.
With their daughter growing older, sharing the same sleeping space with her father had become somewhat awkward.
Leng Yongkang felt resentful, vowing to make Tang Lin pay once he reclaimed his spot on the larger bed. Unbeknownst to him, being assigned the “cold bench” was akin to Wang Gongfei’s fate of being confined to the cold palace—thirty years without seeing the light of day, with no certainty of ever being reinstated.
All in all, he slept fairly well that night.
Aside from Leng Yongkang’s snoring and the creaking of the second branch’s bed from next door as they tossed and turned, the disturbances were minimal. Compared to the sleep quality in the post-apocalyptic world, this was a significant improvement.
The next morning, Tang Lin noticed Leng Yongkang was already dressed and gave Leng Hui a nudge. “Time to get up.”
Leng Yongkang glanced at Leng Hui squirming under the covers and chuckled. “Spring makes people drowsy. Let her sleep a bit longer; it’s fine.”
Tang Lin didn’t explicitly agree or disagree but pointed to the clothes piled on a nearby chest. “Are these the clothes you changed out of yesterday?”
Leng Yongkang nodded. “Yes. Now that you’re out of the hospital, if I don’t change frequently, you’ll complain about me being unhygienic.”
He didn’t dare slack off in that regard.
“Take them and soak them in a basin yourself. Even if you change clothes, without proper washing, you’re still not clean,” Tang Lin retorted, her tone critical.
Leng Yongkang: “…”Leng Hui poked her head out from under the covers, watching his dejected figure as he left with the clothes, and teased, ‘If you keep criticizing him like this, you might push him into depression.'””
“Leaving unwashed clothes lying around for days fills the room with odor. If you enjoy falling asleep to the smell of sweat, that’s your preference, but it’s not mine,” Tang Lin replied, giving her a light pat to hurry her out of bed.
With the entire family living together, waking up even slightly late meant breakfast would be reduced to leftovers.
Breakfast was, as usual, coarse grain porridge and a large bowl of pickled vegetables.
Leng Yongkang took a sip of porridge and asked Leng Hui, who was eating intently, “Hui Hui, what are your plans for today? If you’re free, stay home and look after your mom. You can also help your grandmother glue matchboxes.”
“No time for matchboxes. I have my own plans today.”
Gluing matchboxes paid only ten cents for every two hundred boxes. Working from morning till night—with breaks only for necessities—one could earn at most twenty to thirty cents a day, all while straining their neck and back in the process.
“What plans do you have?” Leng Yongkang asked curiously.
Noticing the others eavesdropping, Tang Lin kicked him under the table. “I can manage on my own now. She doesn’t need to look after me. If she has things to do, let her handle them. Don’t interfere too much.”
With her mother shielding her, Leng Hui ignored the others’ opinions. After finishing breakfast, she grabbed a jacket and left the house.
A habit formed in the post-apocalyptic world lingered: whenever possible, she sought to gather supplies outdoors, whether daily necessities or food—anything she could bring home was fair game.
Leng Hui glanced at the items in her space. With the whole family living together now, many things couldn’t be openly used.
The Leng Family was currently most in need of food, and Leng Hui was thinking about how to obtain more under limited conditions.
Both the grain station and farmers’ markets were state-run, requiring ration coupons to get food from these places—exactly what Leng Hui lacked most at the moment.
As for buying overpriced grain at the so-called black market, she didn’t have much money either.
Leng Hui racked her brains until they ached but still couldn’t figure out where to get more food.
“Leng Hui, where are you going?”
Having passed by Leng Hui, Li Yiyun noticed she hadn’t been acknowledged, so she turned back and stopped in front of her.
Blocked by someone, Leng Hui looked at the person obstructing her path, taking a moment to recall memories associated with her.
Li Yiyun—her high school classmate. They were about the same height, roughly 1.65 meters, so in school, where seating was arranged by height, they often ended up together.
Either as deskmates or in adjacent rows.
“I asked where you’re going. Why are you ignoring me? What are you so lost in thought about?”
“Yiyun.”
Leng Hui pulled her to the roadside, noticing the green canvas bag slung over her shoulder. “Yiyun, tell me, how can one ensure they never worry about food and drink?”
Li Yiyun’s eyes widened, surprised by the question.
“Of course, by marrying a man with a good job and decent family conditions. Marry such a man, and you’ll never have to worry about food and drink for life.”
“Why ask such a silly question? My mom says it’s better for a woman to marry well than to have a good job herself. Marry into a good family and enjoy a lifetime of happiness. Marry into a family incompatible with your destiny, and you’ll suffer in a pit of fire for the rest of your life, struggling endlessly without escape.”
Leng Hui disagreed. “Isn’t having a good job yourself better? Why rely on a man?”
Li Yiyun clearly had her own views. “Even with a good job, if you marry poorly, you’ll still be steeped in bitterness, with no end in sight.”
Leng Hui didn’t want to discuss this further. “Let’s set aside marriage for now. What I want to ask is, where can I get grain, meat, eggs, or other food?”
“At the agricultural products store, grain shop, or meatpacking plant store—they all sell what you need. Failing that, there’s always the black market.”
Li Yiyun was puzzled. Even a three-year-old knew these places. Was Leng Hui testing her intelligence?
“But I have no coupons or money right now.”
“Then you might as well go rob someone.”
Li Yiyun rolled her eyes. Without coupons or money, why ask her? The only option she could think of was theft.
Leng Hui shrugged. Clearly, Li Yiyun hadn’t grasped the crux of her question.
“Hey, hey, where are you going?”
Seeing Leng Hui wave dismissively and walk away without looking back, Li Yiyun hurried after her.
“I’m going to my dad’s factory.”
“What for?”
“To get the bicycle. He took the family bike with him.”
Just as Li Yiyun was about to say something, she noticed someone on a bicycle across the street and excitedly grabbed Leng Hui.
“Leng Hui, don’t rush off. Let me introduce you to someone.”
Seeing Li Yiyun’s shy, flustered expression, Leng Hui turned to see who could evoke such a reaction.
But the person had already braked his bicycle in front of them.
He had a side-parted hairstyle, sharp facial features, stood half a head taller than them, had relatively dark skin, and appeared to be around twenty-one or twenty-two years old.
In the words of the older generation, he was a spirited young man.
“Yiyun, who is this comrade?”
Standing nearby, Leng Hui gave the immediate impression of an ice-cold beauty—one impossible to overlook.
Li Yiyun pulled Leng Hui over and introduced, “My high school classmate, Leng Hui.”
“Leng Hui, this is my partner Mu Bin.”
Even her surname was cold, fitting for this icy beauty.
A faint smile tugged at Mu Bin’s lips as he extended his right hand toward Leng Hui. “Hello, Comrade Leng Hui. Pleased to meet you.”
Leng Hui glanced at Li Yiyun, then politely nodded at Mu Bin. Instead of shaking his hand, she acknowledged him with a nod before turning to leave.
She wasn’t the original owner of this body. Without the memories, she and Li Yiyun were practically strangers.