An elderly woman with graying hair and a frail figure opened the door from inside.
Her gaze first fell upon Yuan Su, who stood drenched at the doorstep, and her brows instinctively furrowed.
Then her eyes shifted to Pu Yu beside him, who was clutching a suitcase, her eyes and nose tinged red, looking disheveled and pitiful.
“Who are you looking for?” Grandma’s tone carried a mix of wariness and scrutiny.
“Grandma,” Pu Yu hurriedly lifted her head, trying to force a smile that ended up looking worse than tears, “I… I’m Pu Yu… My mother is Lin Qian… She wrote to you before…”
The girl’s words were slightly jumbled from nervousness.
Li Suhua’s eyes flickered slightly as she examined Pu Yu carefully, her gaze lingering on the old suitcase for a moment before her frown deepened.
The old woman’s lips tightened, her tone stiff and blunt:
“Lin Qian’s daughter? What are you doing here?”
“Living well in the city, why come to our poor backwater to suffer? Did your father send you?”
Pu Yu was momentarily bewildered by the barrage of questions.
Chaotic thoughts swirled in her mind, unsure where to begin.
Li Suhua looked at her pitiful state, then glanced at Yuan Su standing like a wooden post beside her, and finally sighed helplessly.
She shifted sideways, making room at the doorway, her tone still sharp and harsh:
“What are you still standing there for? Want to catch a cold and have an old woman like me take care of you?”
Without waiting for Pu Yu’s response, she turned and shuffled unsteadily into the house, muttering under her breath, “…Honestly… none of them give me peace… Not enjoying city comforts, coming here to suffer…”
Pu Yu stood frozen, unsure whether this counted as acceptance or dismissal.
It wasn’t until Yuan Su reminded her emotionlessly, “Aren’t you going in?”
that she seemed to snap out of it, hurriedly lifting her heavy suitcase and clumsily stepping over the slightly high threshold.
Grandma’s courtyard was much tidier than the neighbor’s. Persimmons hung swaying from the tree in the rain, as if nodding in greeting.
Pu Yu followed Grandma into the main hall.
Her wet shoes left faint, blurry prints on the clean cement floor.
She stood awkwardly in place, remembering the boy who had knocked urgently on the door, and instinctively turned to thank him.
But the courtyard was empty.
That youth with his cool, imposing presence had quietly slipped away at some point.
“What are you looking at?” Li Suhua’s voice came from behind, tinged with impatience.
Pu Yu quickly shook her head, “N-nothing.”
Grandma didn’t look at her again, turning instead toward the small kitchen on the other side of the courtyard.
Pu Yu stood quietly where she was, afraid to move around, only stealing glances at what might become her new home.
The main hall was simple and tidy. A dark-colored Eight Immortals table stood in the center, an old sewing machine against the wall covered with a floral cloth, surrounded by scraps of fabric and sewing supplies.
There were two small rooms on either side, both with their doors closed.
Before long, Grandma emerged carrying a floral-patterned bowl and placed it on the table.
“Sit. Eat.”
A bowl of plain noodles in clear broth steamed warmly, topped with a slightly browned fried egg.
Pu Yu perched on the edge of the wooden stool, fighting back the sting in her eyes. “Thank you, Grandma.”
Li Suhua picked up her needlework and resumed sewing, asking without looking up, “Why leave good schooling in the city to come here?”
Pu Yu tightened her grip on the chopsticks. “My dad… and my stepmother want me to marry someone in exchange for a bride price.”
The old woman let out a cold laugh, tinged with the sorrow of one who has seen through the ways of the world. “He’s truly mastered his own parents’ rotten mindset of seeing daughters as ‘money-losers’—learned it down to the last detail!”
“And then?” Li Suhua didn’t press for details about the marriage, as if she had already guessed most of it. “They just let you leave like that? Would Pu Zhiming agree?”
“I told them that if they didn’t let me study, I’d go to the factory to find the leaders, or make a scene at my brother’s school. I’m willing to risk everything—they aren’t.”
After hearing this, Li Suhua completely stopped what she was doing.
She looked up, carefully studying the seemingly fragile granddaughter before her.
The girl’s eyes were still red, her face pale, but there was a desperate, all-or-nothing determination in her gaze, as if she had been pushed to the brink.
Li Suhua wanted to curse some more, but in the end, she swallowed the words back down.
Only after Pu Yu finished her meal did she frown and ask, “I remember your mother’s family had a younger sister, didn’t they? Your aunt—doesn’t she care about you either?”
Pu Yu shook her head, a bitter smile touching her lips.
“It was that aunt… who introduced me to the boss’s son.”
Li Suhua stared at Pu Yu for a few seconds before suddenly throwing the ball of yarn in her hand onto the table, her movements carrying a suppressed anger.
“What a sin!”
“A bunch of heartless creatures!”
Pu Yu’s eyes grew moist. She fished out from her pocket the letter, its edges softened and ink blurred by dampness, and tremblingly handed it over, her voice choked with emotion:
“Before my mother passed, she told me that if there ever came a day when I had nowhere to go, I should come and beg you to take me in.”
“She said, Grandma, you have the softest heart of anyone. Even though you said you’d never have anything to do with us again, you still made me that little outfit embroidered with the word ‘peace.’ She also said… she always believed there were reasons behind what happened between you and Dad back then…”
Li Suhua froze, her hunched back seeming to bend even further.
After a long while, she finally reached out and took the letter with the address written on it. “So, what do you plan to do from now on?”
“I want to study, Grandma.” Pu Yu looked at her pleadingly, as if grasping at her last lifeline. “You don’t need to worry about tuition or living expenses. I’ll just stay here for a year—once I get into university, I’ll leave.”
“In the future… when I’m working, I’ll definitely take good care of you!”
She made the promise eagerly, her cheeks flushing slightly with excitement.
Li Suhua fell silent for a moment, saying nothing. Instead, she picked up the empty bowl from the table, walked over to the water vat in the yard, scooped some water, and began washing the dishes.
The sound of running water echoed, accompanied by her low muttering, as if she were talking to herself:
“Hmph, easier said than done. Is getting into university that simple?… And taking care of me—this old woman doesn’t need it!”
Her movements as she washed the dishes were a bit forceful, as if she were venting her frustration on something.
Pu Yu’s heart sank little by little, her fingers curling nervously.
However, when Grandma finished washing the bowl, placed it upside down to drain, dried her hands with a cloth, and turned around, she added:
“Wake up early tomorrow. If the rain stops, I’ll take you to the high school in town to ask about the transfer procedures.”
Then, meeting Pu Yu’s instantly brightened eyes, she added in her habitually critical tone, “Change out of those wet clothes quickly. Don’t get sick tomorrow and hold us up—I don’t have that much time to waste on you.”
Pu Yu was stunned for a moment before immense joy, like a warm current, flooded through her entire body.
She nodded heavily, her voice choked with emotion: “Yes! Thank you, Grandma, I’ll go change right now!”
The sound of rain outside the window no longer seemed so cold.
The damp little town, the humble old house.
At this moment, it finally opened a hopeful crack for her.