Ye Sheng leaned over the balcony, watching Zhou Yanshen disappear into the thick darkness of the night. From afar, sounds drifted over intermittently, too distant to make out clearly.
Then she saw several military trucks slowly drive out.
Ye Sheng was dazed for a moment before turning back inside, taking in the place she’d be staying temporarily. It was a small two-bedroom unit, with one bedroom on the north side and one on the south, and a tiny bathroom in between. Though the floors were concrete, they were smoothed over and level, and there was even a simple showerhead.
She felt somewhat fortunate—at least she’d transmigrated into the 1990s, where conditions were already much better.
The moment she turned her head, she was startled by the reflection in the mirror above the washbasin. Her hair was a mess with dried grass tangled in it, and her small, palm-sized face was covered in bloodstains. Only her eyes were bright and sparkling, looking rather eerie in the mirror at night.
Ye Sheng quickly turned on the faucet and splashed water on her face. When she looked up again, she was surprised to find that the face in the mirror looked very similar to her original one—except that because of her heart condition, she’d always been thin, pale, and even her lips were faint in color.
But the face in the mirror was round and full, with big, bright eyes that tilted up slightly at the corners, carrying an unintentional charm. Her skin was fair, her lips a soft pink. She looked like a flower bud on a branch, still holding dew—delicate yet full of vitality.
No wonder the original owner had been able to work in the cultural troupe, with a trail of admirers behind her.
Ye Sheng snapped out of her daze and pushed open the door to the south bedroom. It was about twelve or thirteen square meters, with a white double bed in the center. The sheets were white, and a military-green quilt was folded into a perfect square, as neat as a cut block of tofu.
Beside the bed was a white nightstand with a thick stack of books on it, arranged neatly from thin to thick.
Along the wall stood a set of solid wood cabinets of varying heights. In front of the window was a three-drawer table serving as a desk, clean except for an alarm clock, with a folding chair in front of it.
Ye Sheng was surprised. Though Zhou Yanshen had said the room had never been lived in, she hadn’t expected it to be this tidy. After all, not many men seemed to be good at housework.
She stepped back out and tried the door to the opposite room, but found it locked when she turned the handle.
Ye Sheng had no interest in prying into others’ privacy. She thought to herself that it would be nice to change clothes and take a shower, but her luggage was gone—how was she supposed to change?
Just as she was worrying about it, a soft knock came at the door.
Ye Sheng confirmed that someone was indeed knocking, then went over and asked through the door, “Who is it?”
“Sister-in-law, I’m the squadron leader’s clerk. I’ve come to bring you food and clothes.”
Somewhat surprised, Ye Sheng opened the door. A young man of about eighteen or nineteen stood there. The moment he saw Ye Sheng, his face flushed red, and he stammered, “Sis—Sister-in-law, this is the meal the squadron leader asked me to bring. And here’s a set of clothes—I went to get new ones. Please make do with them for now.”
With that, he shoved the lunchbox and a plastic bag into Ye Sheng’s hands, turned, and ran downstairs. But halfway down, he hurried back up and said to Ye Sheng, who hadn’t yet closed the door, “Oh, right, sister-in-law. There’s also an envelope in the bag with two hundred yuan in it. Captain Zhou said you can go to the shop tomorrow to buy yourself a set of clothes.”
This time, he didn’t wait for Ye Sheng to say anything either, and quickly ran off.
Ye Sheng looked surprised as she carried an armful of items inside and closed the door. She walked over to the sofa and sat down, opening the lunchbox to find two steamed buns, two sausages, and a bit of pickled vegetable shreds.
Inside the plastic bag were a camouflage short-sleeved shirt, a pair of dark blue shorts, and a pair of gray slippers. At the very bottom lay a kraft paper envelope containing twenty ten-yuan bills.
Ye Sheng felt a stir in her heart. She never would have imagined that Zhou Yanshen, who seemed so cocky and full of himself, could be this thoughtful.
She was genuinely hungry, so she ate the two steamed buns with the pickled vegetables. With no water to drink, she used the lunchbox to scoop some tap water and took a couple of gulps, feeling somewhat full. She felt her mind starting to work again.
She really did need to build a good relationship with Zhou Yanshen now. Her luggage was lost, and her ID card was gone too. She had to go back and get a replacement ID card before she could smoothly register for the exam.
At the same time, she needed to find a job to support herself.
The previous owner’s job at the cultural troupe was something she couldn’t do. She had no talent for playing instruments, singing, or dancing, and as for the guzheng, she knew even less about that. Children from the orphanage were lucky enough to have full meals and go to school—how could they ever have had the chance to learn the guzheng?
Ye Sheng held the lunchbox, suddenly feeling a surge of confidence. At least it wasn’t the sixties or seventies now; finding a job should still be manageable. She had endured hardship before, so enduring it again was nothing.
After mentally preparing herself, she set down the lunchbox and got ready to take a shower, then rest properly.
Just as she stood up, someone knocked on the door again—this time more urgently.
Ye Sheng paused. Could Zhou Yanshen have sent someone over with more things? Considering this was the family compound and quite safe, she went over and opened the door.
Standing outside was a young woman, around twenty-five or twenty-six, wearing a shirt-style long dress with a wide black belt at the waist, making her waist look impossibly slender. Her black hair cascaded over her shoulders like a waterfall, and her features were delicate and pretty.
The woman froze when she saw Ye Sheng, her initially delighted eyes now filled with wariness: “Who are you? Where’s Third Brother?”
Ye Sheng noticed the change in the woman’s expression and sighed inwardly: She seems to have a close relationship with Zhou Yanshen.
Kindly, she explained to the woman: “The alarm just went off, so he left. Why don’t you come back tomorrow?”
The woman shook her head, her tone cold: “No need. When he comes back, tell him Beibei is sick and to find time to come see her.”
With that, she turned and left without waiting for Ye Sheng’s reply, her retreating figure radiating disappointment and dejection.
Ye Sheng couldn’t snap out of it until the woman’s footsteps had completely faded.
This woman had a child? And the child had a significant connection to Zhou Yanshen?
Ye Sheng tapped her head. Well, it had nothing to do with her anyway. Better to stay out of it.
She went to take a shower and discovered that even in the height of summer, the cold water was bitingly icy—no wonder Zhou Yanshen had said the hot water was already shut off.
Shivering, Ye Sheng quickly washed with the cold water, then washed her only dress and underwear, making do with wearing just the camouflage T-shirt and navy shorts with nothing underneath.
She couldn’t find any hangers, but luckily there was a clothesline on the balcony. Ye Sheng carefully hung her underwear underneath and laid the dress over the top, so it should be dry by tomorrow morning.
Lying in bed, she hesitated for a moment before pulling open the quilt. Perhaps it was because of the cold shower, but even though it was the height of July, she felt so cold that goosebumps broke out on her skin.
Wrapped in the quilt, it took a while before her icy limbs gradually began to warm up.
Tears inexplicably welled up in Ye Sheng’s eyes. She reached up and touched them, forcing herself not to think about the unfamiliar surroundings. She needed to sleep—as long as she worked hard, she could live well in any era.
After all, she was an orphan, and the headmistress she cared about most had already passed away. What did it matter if she lived in a different era?
She tossed and turned, eventually falling asleep at some unknown hour, until the piercing sound of a bugle woke her, along with the sound of someone downstairs scolding a child and the cheerful chatter of conversation.
Ye Sheng was roused from sleep and got up to go to the balcony to collect the clothes—only to be utterly stunned!
The clothesline on the balcony was completely empty. There was no trace of the clothes anywhere!