“Ha! Since when did I have an engagement with your daughter? Don’t slander my innocence!” Zhou Zhanyang felt wronged, angry, and scared all at once, afraid that Shen Qingjun would be mad and reject him.
“Wife, I’ve been completely innocent my whole life. I don’t know any Xu Jianyi, Wang Jianyi, or Sun Jianyi!”
Hearing Zhou Zhanyang’s words, Xu Jianyi’s face turned pale.
Zhou Liye looked helplessly at his old friend. “Old Xu, didn’t you see it all? My Zhanyang will marry no one but Qingjun. There was never any engagement—back then, it was just an offhand joke by the elders, not to be taken seriously.”
With these words, Xu Jianyi’s hopes were completely dashed. She wobbled as Director Xu, concerned, helped steady his granddaughter, then turned furious:
“Zhou Liye! From now on, our families are severed from each other!”
Repeatedly being snubbed, Zhou Liye’s face darkened. He snorted coldly. “Sever ties if you want. Old Zhou doesn’t need you as a friend.”
“Zhanyang, see them off!”
“Hmph, I don’t need this brat to escort us. Jianyi, let’s go.” Director Xu swept his sleeve and left.
Xu Jianyi, pale and confused, looked at Zhou Liye helplessly. “Grandpa Zhou, what my grandfather said was in the heat of the moment. We can visit another day.”
Zhou Liye snorted. Why bother going? It would only be frustrating! Better not to go at all.
Seeing Zhou Liye’s cold indifference, Xu Jianyi bit her lip, stomped her foot, and followed her grandfather out.
Zhou Liye, in a sour mood, had no appetite. After a couple of bites, he went upstairs.
“Don’t worry about my grandfather. He deserves it. He insisted on trying to pair me with Xu Jianyi before, and now he’s shot himself in the foot. Let him worry himself silly. Anyway, he’ll handle it himself—you don’t need to think too much.”
“Zhou Zhanyang!” Zhou Liye’s voice rang from upstairs, full of teeth-gritting anger. “Get out of here! I don’t want to see you right now!”
Zhou Zhanyang quickly replied, “Alright, Grandpa. I won’t be staying tonight—no need to keep the door open.”
Before Zhou Liye could blow his top, Zhou Zhanyang quickly slipped away with Shen Qingjun.
Zhou Liye leaned on the corridor railing, mouth twitching. The interruption from his unlucky grandson instantly turned his bad mood into speechlessness.
Ah, well. Children have their own luck—this is a lesson only Old Xu can figure out. Just let it be.
The wedding date was set for Sunday, leaving less than five days, promising an extremely busy period ahead.
That day, Zhou Zhanyang and Shen Qingjun finished shopping at the supply and marketing cooperative. Passing a photography studio, Zhou Zhanyang’s eyes lit up, and he pulled Shen Qingjun inside.
“Wife, we haven’t taken our wedding photos yet!”
Shen Qingjun looked at their hands full of bags. “Shall we put these in the car first and then come back?”
“Good idea!”
Photography studios in this era generally used a large, cumbersome metal camera, with plain or hand-painted backdrops—typically city parks, simple studies, or towers.
Shen Qingjun chose a red backdrop. She wore a white blouse, her side braid draped neatly over her chest, looking charming and graceful. Zhou Zhanyang wore his uniform, radiating righteousness.
Luckily, their outfits looked natural against the red backdrop.
“Attention! Look here! Don’t blink!” the photographer’s voice came through the black cloth.
Zhou Zhanyang sat upright, staring at the huge, cumbersome camera. Shen Qingjun linked her arm with his, smiling gently.
“Comrade soldier, relax your facial expression. You’re taking wedding photos, not being interrogated! The lady next to you is doing great, keep that relaxed state.”
“Good, look at the camera, comrade soldier. Soften your gaze, show love in your eyes—not a death-defying stare. Understand?”
“Comrade soldier, don’t blink!”
“Ready?”
Click—
The photographer emerged from behind the black cloth, giving Shen Qingjun a thumbs-up. “I’ve never seen someone so photogenic. Want to be a studio model? Ten yuan per photo.”
Zhou Zhanyang frowned. “Not interested.”
Shen Qingjun smiled awkwardly. “Sorry, no plans for that at the moment.”
The photographer looked a little disappointed, then shrugged. “If you change your mind, let me know.”
Shen Qingjun nodded and asked when the photos would be ready.
“For color photos, we don’t have color film here. If you don’t mind, we have an expert who can hand-color them—but it will cost more than black-and-white photos.”
“Price isn’t a problem. We want color,” Shen Qingjun’s eyes lit up.
“When can we pick them up?” Zhou Zhanyang asked.
“Normally a week at the fastest, but since you’re in a hurry, the earliest is Saturday.”
After paying, the photographer gave them a receipt with their names, date, number, and pick-up time—needed to collect the photos.
Zhou Zhanyang carefully folded the receipt and put it in his pocket. He had already planned to keep one small photo on him at all times and frame the larger ones for the wall so they could see them every day.
After taking the photos, Shen Qingjun and Zhou Zhanyang walked toward the parking spot.
Shen Qinghe emerged from around a corner, her gaze flitting between the couple. She hurried home, eager to tell Sun Lanzi.
“Mom, guess who I ran into today? Shen Qingjun! I saw her get into a jeep with a man.”
Sun Lanzi, still frail after being rescued by Shen Zhigao, narrowed into a glare. She crushed a bean pod in her hand with hatred. “Let her do whatever she wants. Don’t ever mention her name again.”
Thinking of the past few days made Sun Lanzi shiver—she never wanted to relive them.
Shen Qinghe’s eyes darted. “Mom, what about Shen Qingjun and Ma Daqiang? He was willing to pay 300 yuan as the bride price.”
“Now the street office is pressuring people to go down to the countryside. Qingwei and I are old enough. If we still don’t get jobs, we’ll be sent down. Mom, our sister already got sent down because of Shen Qingjun. Would you let us go too?” Shen Qinghe referred to Shen Xinwei.
Sun Lanzi felt tempted. The family had saved money to get jobs for her two kids, but yesterday Shen Zhigao used all their savings to rescue her. Now, there was no money left, and the whole family had to tighten their belts.
Hearing Shen Xinwei’s name, Sun Lanzi’s heart twisted. Her daughter had been sent down because of Shen Qinghe. She glared at Shen Qingjun, about to respond, when she heard Shen Zhigao say to Shen Qinghe, “Tell Shen Qingjun to come over.”
In those days, not everyone could drive a jeep. Shen Zhigao wanted to know the man’s identity—if he had good connections, he could forgive Shen Qingjun and her past mistakes, as long as she helped the Shen family.
If the man was unrelated… Shen Zhigao’s eyes flickered, thinking of a certain recently deceased fifty-year-old leader.
Shen Qingjun had just seen Zhou Zhanyang off when Shen Qinghe came to fetch her.
“Got it.”
Shen Qingjun closed and locked the door. Shen Qinghe rolled her eyes, muttering, “This place is drafty, belongings cleaner than your face, why lock the door? Ridiculous. Anything inside, thrown on the street, no one would pick up.”
Shen Qingjun glanced at her. “I heard your mom got out of the revolutionary committee. How come the daughter’s inheriting her mother’s work already, calling you in to ‘work’ so fast?”
“You’re talking nonsense! I don’t care about your family’s stuff!” Shen Qinghe fumed.
“Fine, fine. No big deal,” Shen Qingjun shrugged.
Shen Qinghe’s face turned dark. She wanted to argue, but realized she couldn’t win, so she huffed, then a mischievous smirk appeared as she thought of something.