Before receiving the package, Wang Genzhu had already had a precognitive dream and learned how things would end for him and Zhang Yujie.
To Ning An’s surprise, he still handed the package over to Zhang Yujie, only telling her clearly that this was the last time.
He planned to follow his family’s arrangement and go on blind dates, then settle down honestly, marry, have children, and live his life—never again coveting this fallen young lady.
Xiao Juza played the surveillance footage for Ning An.
Wang Genzhu’s eyes were weathered and complicated, and Zhang Yujie’s were no less so. She couldn’t understand why the honest man she had observed for a long time before choosing had suddenly changed like this. Just yesterday, he had still treated her with such tenderness, secretly bringing her a boiled egg and quietly helping her with her chores!
“Brother Genzhu, did you hear something from someone? They’re all lies. Our whole family are good people—we were only framed, which is how we ended up like this. But don’t worry, we won’t stay like this forever.”
Watching her performance, Wang Genzhu actually felt much calmer. Or perhaps, tempered by being abandoned in the dream, he had evolved a little after all. What did all this talk from Zhang Yujie have to do with him? Even if her family eventually climbed out of the mire, what did that have to do with him? Hadn’t he done enough for her? And how had she repaid him?
Forget it, forget it. Just as she said, they weren’t the same kind of people. In that case, they shouldn’t have walked the same path to begin with.
“I believe your family won’t stay like this forever, but that has nothing to do with me. I helped you before because I felt sorry for you, but I have my own life to live too. I’m not young anymore, and my family keeps trying to arrange matches for me. Once I’m married, I’ll have to look after my own wife and children. If I kept coming to help you, my wife would be unhappy.”
Zhang Yujie was furious inside, but her face flushed with feigned shyness as she stammered, “Brother Genzhu, d-don’t you… don’t you like me?”
If you like someone, you should hold on a little longer! How could he give up so quickly!
Wang Genzhu retreated a step in alarm, waving his hands repeatedly: “No, no, no, you’ve misunderstood. I was only helping you out of kindness—I don’t have any feelings for you. That’s all. Tell that person not to send me anything anymore. Even if they send something, I won’t pick it up.”
Liking you led to a terrible ending, after all. He never managed to vent that pent-up bitterness his whole life!
With that, Wang Genzhu ran off. From then on, he deliberately kept his distance from Zhang Yujie, and the two never crossed paths again.
Xiao Juza said, “This man isn’t bad, really. It’s just that he became rather loathsome later with how he treated the children.”
Ning An said, “They say a man’s feelings for his children depend on his feelings for their mother. When a couple loves each other, the children won’t fare badly. When the couple’s relationship is bad, it’s hard for a man to feel much for the children—he never carried them for ten months or endured the pain of childbirth. Later, Wang Genzhu came to resent Zhang Yujie, so naturally he couldn’t treat her children well. Human nature is complicated—it’s never simply black and white. Oh right, arrange for that child to be reborn into a good family.”
“Mm-hmm, rest assured, An’an. I filed a request with upstairs, and it’s already been approved.”
“Good.”
Zhang Yujie didn’t believe Wang Genzhu at first, thinking he might be using this to pressure and manipulate her. But soon she discovered that Wang Genzhu was telling the truth—he really had started going on blind dates, and quickly got engaged, and soon after, married.
Weddings were simple affairs back then; the old customs of matchmakers and betrothal gifts were out of fashion. Once the two laid eyes on each other and the families agreed on the betrothal gifts and dowry, they picked a date, shared a meal with relatives and friends, and that was that.
The whole process was so fast that Zhang Yujie was dumbfounded.
But how could it not be fast?
Zhang Yujie was sent down to the countryside in 1966, when she was seventeen and Wang Genzhu was also seventeen—already at the age for marriage talks. Then Zhang Yujie hooked him, and four years later, he was twenty-one, practically an old bachelor by rural standards. With him staying unmarried all this time, the villagers had started gossiping.
Although the Marriage Law set the legal marriage age at twenty for men and eighteen for women, in the countryside many people married before reaching that age. Most of them never registered, relying simply on de facto marriage.
Wang Genzhu had refused to go on blind dates, and his family had discovered he was secretly involved with a sent-down youth. The whole family lived in fear; behind closed doors they had beaten him and scolded him, but the boy just wouldn’t listen.
To be honest, the Wang family had already resigned themselves to their son marrying the sent-down youth in a couple of years. They had even started figuring out what they would tell the villagers if the two really ended up together. Then suddenly, their son came to his senses. Of course they had to rush the wedding through!
Left with no choice, Zhang Yujie wrote to Li Changwei, telling him to stop sending things to Wang Genzhu until she found a new source.
But clearly, fools like Wang Genzhu were rare, and she couldn’t find a suitable replacement right away. She had to rely on herself for now while continuing to look. Even though it was only a little support from Li Changwei that she’d lost, her life suddenly became much harder.
And on Li Changwei’s end, he had no more money to send her either.
In the capital, while tidying up her room, Li Changling suddenly discovered a letter, mailed in 1966 from a small mountain village, addressed to her brother. Driven by curiosity, Li Changling opened it—and trembled with rage.
It was the letter Zhang Yujie had written to Li Changwei, telling him to send things to Wang Genzhu. Li Changwei had hidden it well, but Xiao Juza had delivered it right into Li Changling’s hands.
Li Changling stormed into Li Changwei’s room and dug through everything, turning the place upside down. She found a pile of receipts for mailed packages—besides those sent to their parents and grandparents, many were addressed to Wang Genzhu.
There was also a letter Li Changwei hadn’t had time to send, written to Zhang Yujie. In it, he said he was going down to the countryside, so he wouldn’t be able to send her as much anymore, but he would do his utmost: “Whatever Changling sends me, I’ll send it all to you.”
This letter was forged by Xiao Juza. Li Changwei had indeed written such a letter, but it had already been mailed.
Li Changling believed it completely.
In that moment, she wanted to cry, only to find she had no tears left.
In her brother’s heart, was Zhang Yujie really that important? Important enough that he would rather suffer himself, rather let his own sister suffer, rather let their parents and grandparents have a hard time, all so he could keep supporting her? Why? On what grounds! With that money, she and her parents and grandparents could have eaten a few more good meals. Maybe then things wouldn’t be like now—she was already over seventeen, almost eighteen, and she still hadn’t even gotten her first period!
She had secretly gone to see a doctor, and was told it was because of malnutrition.
Li Changling wrote a letter to Li Changwei, enclosing the receipts for all the things he had sent. In the letter she wrote: “Brother, from now on I won’t send you money anymore. I’ll keep an extra yuan for myself, eat a few more cornbread buns, and send the rest to Mom and Dad. Grandpa and Grandma are getting old—these few extra yuan might make their lives a little easier.”
When Li Changwei received the letter, he didn’t say a word.
He did things according to his own calculations. Under his arrangement, everyone lived a bit harder, but everyone could hold on and survive. Still, he understood his sister’s thinking. The life or death of other families had nothing to do with her—she only wanted her own family to live a little better. Why should their own family suffer so that the Zhang family could survive?
Time slipped away silently. By the time the river work ended, the male lead no longer showed the slightest trace of his former high spirits. He was in far worse shape than even the villagers. The young men from the village at least had good energy and stood up straight, while the male lead’s face had grown haggard and his posture had deteriorated badly.
His pride had been crushed to nothing by reality.
It was also when the river work ended that the two rabbits Ning An’s family raised had babies.
Rabbits are an extremely prolific species—male rabbits are in heat all year round, and a doe only needs one month to carry a litter. They can produce six or seven litters a year, with five to eight babies per litter.
The two rabbits at Ning An’s house were clearly in their prime, and this litter had eight babies. Pink and hairless, they looked just like little mice.
Jiang Xuegong had piled up a mound of dirt in the rabbit hutch so the rabbits could dig burrows and play, and the babies were born in a burrow the rabbits had dug themselves.
Zhao Fengxia wrapped the hutch with old felt cloth and added some dry grass and rags to keep them warm. She even dug a hole beneath the hutch, and before bed each night she filled it with stove ashes and charcoal cinders still glowing with sparks—essentially giving the rabbits their own heated kang bed.
Light Snow had just passed, and real winter had arrived. Baby rabbits can’t stand the cold.
Ning An grumbled, “Those little brats are treated better than I am. I haven’t even slept on a heated kang yet.”
Zhao Fengxia teased her, “You think a heated kang is comfortable? It’s dry and parching. Besides, have I let you go cold?”
“Hehe, no.”
Her mother watched over her with a hundred and twenty percent attentiveness.
At night, Ning An had a hot water bottle to warm her bed, and there was also a “sealed stove” in her bedroom. She observed it and found it somewhat similar to the ancient “smoking basket”—a large woven bamboo basket containing an earthenware pot filled with charcoal fire, covered with a thin layer of plant ash. There was no open flame, but it radiated heat continuously.
The bamboo basket had a lid, so before getting up in the morning, clothes could be laid on top to warm them, so they’d be toasty when put on.
This treatment was quite excellent. Thanks to her father working at the coal mine, the family never lacked for coal scraps.