After the family finished dinner, Ning An automatically took on the task of scrubbing the pot and washing the dishes.
Among the whole family, she had the easiest job. Her father had to go down into the mines to dig coal—exhausting work. Her mother had to work in the fields, which was no easier either. Both were manual laborers. Only she worked in an office.
When it came to housework, she did as much as she could. The original owner had done it this way, and she would too.
Jiang Xuegong and Zhao Fengxia were a rare breed of good parents for this era—not only because they provided their daughter with good material conditions, but more importantly, because they truly loved their child.
Because Jiang Ning’an was their only child, the couple was occasionally mocked behind their backs by villagers. Some were jealous of their good life and would say behind their backs, “A family doomed to die out with no heir—what’s the point of earning so much money? It’ll all end up benefiting outsiders in the end.” Zhao Fengxia had heard such talk, but she didn’t take it to heart at all.
In Zhao Fengxia’s words, “They resent those who have and laugh at those who don’t. With hearts that dirty, these people are destined never to live good lives.”
There were also clan relatives who wanted to adopt their own sons over to Jiang Xuegong, euphemistically claiming it was so someone would carry his funeral pot and tend his grave after he died.
Whether well-intentioned or malicious, the couple refused them all. All their love went to Jiang Ning’an.
Over time, no one made trouble anymore.
Didn’t Jiang Xuegong and his wife hold the old belief of valuing sons over daughters? They did. But valuing sons over daughters didn’t mean treating a child badly. In their hearts, they favored sons and regretted not having a son, but in their actions, they loved only Jiang Ning’an.
In the original world, when Jiang Ning’an fell in love with Li Changwei, the couple disapproved at first. A young man from out of town—they knew nothing about him, and everything they knew came from his own mouth. Who knew how much of it was true?
But they were even more unwilling to see their daughter heartbroken, so in the end they compromised. Later, when Li Changwei abandoned Jiang Ning’an and returned to the capital, Jiang Xuegong and his wife didn’t curse Li Changwei either. They tried their best never to mention him so as not to upset their daughter, and they helped her raise the child.
Didn’t they hate Li Changwei? Of course they did! They wished him dead!
But what good did hating him do? They couldn’t actually kill him, and they couldn’t throw away their own lives for such a beast. All they could do was stay by her side and help their daughter start a new life.
Unfortunately, the original owner had backed herself into a corner.
If she could have seen things more clearly, she would have realized the world wasn’t so bad—there were still two people who loved her wholeheartedly. All she had to do was open her heart, and she would have felt it.
After cleaning up, Ning An poured all the dishwater into a large earthen basin to save for feeding the pigs the next morning. Then she warmed a kettle of water on the stove so everyone could wash their feet later.
After that, she went back to her room and brought out the fabric she’d bought to show off.
“Mom, I bought a piece of fabric—I’ll make you a new outfit. Look, it’s your favorite Zhenqingshilan.”
As soon as she said it, she started laughing herself, and Jiang Xuegong cackled along beside her.
Because of her mother’s obsession with this color, she and her father had teased her about it plenty. How could anyone really wear only this one color? Even if others favored a certain color, they would still try other colors. Only her mother—truly, every single piece of her clothing was this one color.
Once, someone asked curiously, “Your family has the easiest life in our production team, so how come you only have this one outfit? And you keep it so clean all day—how do you dry it after washing?”
Zhao Fengxia was stunned by the question. It took her a moment to realize that people assumed she only had one set of clothes for all four seasons. But she couldn’t really blame them for their poor judgment—who told her clothes to all look the same? Same color, same style, everything identical.
Zhao Fengxia was a person of strong opinions—or rather, a stubborn mule. Even after being misunderstood like this, she refused to change.
“Go, go, go, what are you laughing at? Zhenqingshilan never goes out of style. What do you two know?”
Ning An suggested, “Mom, let me make you some clothes. I’ll change the style a little. Your clothes now all look like men’s—I’ll give you a turned-down collar. It’ll definitely look nice.”
“No way. What if you ruin it? Wouldn’t that be a waste of fabric?”
“How would it be a waste? If you don’t like it when it’s done, I’ll just wear it myself. I saw people wearing that style in the city—it looked really nice.”
“You know how?”
“Of course I do. I had a classmate whose mother was a tailor. She grew up helping out and learned quite a bit, and I learned from her. My needlework is pretty good.”
Zhao Fengxia thought it over. Not wanting to hurt her daughter’s feelings, she said, “Fine, go ahead and try.”
If the stitches turned out badly, she would secretly take it apart and redo it herself.
“Great! Let me take your measurements first.”
Ning An ran to her parents’ room, opened a drawer of the chest of drawers, and took out a ruler made of bamboo—the units marked on it were still “chi.”
She measured shoulder width, arm length, bust, waist, hips, and leg length.
Zhao Fengxia said, “You look like you know what you’re doing.”
Jiang Xuegong chimed in, “Doesn’t she? That’s how I’ve seen the tailors do it.”
After measuring, Ning An took out a small notebook and wrote down the numbers.
“I’ll take it to work tomorrow and make it for you when I have time.”
“Be careful—don’t let it affect your work.”
“It’s fine. The salespeople at our store sew shoe soles every day, and our supervisor doesn’t care at all.”
Who knew why they always had endless shoe soles to sew!
Jiang Xuegong picked up his cup and took a sip, found the water had gone cold, then took another cup, split the cooled boiled water between the two, added hot water to each, and handed one to Zhao Fengxia while drinking the other himself.
Zhao Fengxia said, “Pour half a cup for An’an to cool. Have her drink it before bed. It’s dry weather now—she’ll easily get thirsty in the middle of the night.”
Jiang Xuegong took out another cup and poured half a cup of water for Ning An to cool.
Enamel cups were actually a rare commodity, but in the Jiang household they were quite ordinary—Jiang Xuegong’s workplace handed out roughly one per person per year, sometimes large, sometimes small. The family had plenty.
Before half past eight, the whole family had finished washing up and went to their rooms to sleep.
Ning An returned to her own room, bolted the door from the inside, slipped into her space, took a bath first, then played with Xiao Juza for a while.
She told Xiao Juza, “Educated youths have come to the village. The young people are bound to be curious, and some lovesick ones might even want to court them.”
“Definitely. In the original world, the young men and women of the village were very interested in them too.”
“Since we’re talking about matchmaking, you have to know someone inside and out first, right? Saves you from getting scammed.”
“Right!”
“But how could the villagers possibly know about the zhiqing’s family backgrounds and romantic histories? As good people who move the world, the two of us need to have the awareness to help our fellow man. How about this—you compile the family backgrounds and romantic histories of these zhiqing, with the focus on the male lead, and that female zhiqing who abandoned her husband and child. Dig into her situation. The other three are just a bonus.”
“Okay. An An, you want to make a public notice?”
“Mm. Once you’ve finished compiling it, we’ll go out and post it around the village—a few copies at the Zhiqingyuan, the brigade office, the threshing ground, and along the paths the villagers take to the fields—so everyone can get to know these newly arrived young people properly. If someone knows all that and still insists on courting them, then that’s not our problem anymore.”
“Got it! I’ll go compile it right away.”
Xiao Juza was a seasoned hand at this kind of task. Ning An felt completely at ease leaving the groundwork to it. It knew which information could be made public and which couldn’t, and it knew what should be detailed and what should be glossed over.
Ning An left the space and lay on her bed, zoning out. She’d wait for Xiao Juza to finish and call her, then the two of them would go out and do some mischief together.
A moonless, windy night—the perfect night for murder and arson!
Xiao Juza worked fast, and before long it was done.
“Let’s wait a bit longer. We’ll go once everyone’s fast asleep.”
She could, of course, just turn invisible, but that would take all the excitement out of it—less fun, not as entertaining.
“Mm-hm, whatever An An says.”
Just as Ning An decided it was about time and was getting up to leave, she heard the door of her parents’ bedroom open. Her father rushed out as if his pants were on fire and ran into the outhouse.
Right behind him, her mother also rushed out as if her pants were on fire, heading for the outhouse.
Jiang Xuegong had barely gotten in before his wife cornered him inside. With no other choice, he came back out to find a corner to take care of business, leaving the only latrine pit to his wife.
Ning An: “…”
Xiao Juza: “…”