“My name is Shang Yaoyao.” Realizing she hadn’t signed her name on the manuscript, Shang Yinyin improvised. She didn’t want to use her real name, so this pen name was her only option.
“Alright, welcome back anytime. I’m Ning Xin, the deputy editor-in-chief of this newspaper office,” Ning Xin said with a smile, introducing herself.
“Hello, Editor Ning. I’ve noted that down, and I’ll definitely be back next time.”
“Take care.” Ning Xin saw Shang Yinyin out.
You can’t judge a book by its cover, Ning Xin thought. She looks like someone who’s never read a book, yet she wrote such a fascinating story.
The story Shang Yinyin submitted was genuinely brilliant and refreshingly original. Ning Xin hadn’t expected her to agree so readily to twenty yuan per thousand words without any haggling. In truth, Shang Yinyin knew she could have negotiated a better price, but she preferred to play it smart. Having cash didn’t guarantee you could buy what you wanted; ration tickets were essential. Trading part of the payment for those tickets meant she could bring some good food back home.
Realizing she was hungry, Shang Yinyin headed to a state-run restaurant for a meal. By this time, private individuals were slowly starting to open their own small eateries. Shang Yinyin knew things would gradually improve, and in the years to come, various ration tickets would slowly exit the stage of history. But for now, money alone wasn’t enough; many things still required both cash and tickets.
She ordered a bowl of noodles, finished eating, and paid before leaving. Next, she stopped by the department store to buy a bolt of fabric. Summer fabric was much more expensive—synthetic cloth cost fifteen yuan a bolt—and she bought ten meters of it. She also wanted to pick up some candies, but lacked the necessary sugar coupons, so she had to pass. After securing the fabric, she stopped by the state-run restaurant again to buy two meat buns for her sister.
Following her memory, she arrived at the school gates.
“Sister?” Shang Niannian called out as she spotted her.
Shang Yinyin trotted over happily. Shang Niannian’s clothes were much like her own—washed until they had turned a faded yellowish tint—but her hair was shoulder-length and held back by a headband.
“Sister, you’re here.” Shang Niannian was eighteen, recently graduated from high school, and would turn nineteen in another month.
Approaching her, Shang Yinyin asked, “Is this all your luggage?” She looked around and added, “Where are your quilts and books?”
“I sold my books and made five yuan. I also sold my three years of high school study notes for eight yuan to some kids in the city who are getting ready for high school. As for my quilt, it was already worn out, so I sold it to the old rag-and-bone man for three yuan.” Shang Niannian gestured excitedly. “I made sixteen yuan in total! Come on, let’s go get something good to eat.”
“Selling your books is one thing, but that quilt was made from cotton Auntie saved up for ages. You—” Shang Yinyin wanted to scold her, but realized it was useless since the items were already gone. Besides, their aunt always doted on the younger sister, so she wouldn’t be overly harsh anyway.
“Here are some buns for you. We have to catch the bus; there’s no time,” Shang Yinyin said, handing a bun to Shang Niannian and pulling her along.
“I haven’t eaten yet!” Shang Niannian didn’t want to rush back just yet.
“Uncle Niu leaves at a set time, and we have to catch it,” Shang Yinyin insisted. “Just bear with it a little longer. There’ll be food waiting at home. We’ll have another chance to come back later, and Auntie will definitely make something good for you.”
“Fine.”
With no other choice, Shang Niannian picked up her bucket, washbasin, and clothes to hurry to the bus stop.
When they arrived at the station, Auntie Jiang was already there. After a short wait, the bus pulled up, and they quickly boarded for the ride back. Along the way, Auntie Jiang pulled out some candies her daughter had bought her.
“Yinyin, Niannian, here. These are candies my daughter bought for me to bring back to my grandson. She bought quite a lot, take some.” Being generous, Auntie Jiang grabbed a handful and handed them over.
Shang Yinyin smiled and accepted them, saying, “Thank you, Auntie Jiang.”
“Thank you, Auntie Jiang!” Shang Niannian echoed happily.
“Don’t mention it, just take them and eat. I only have one grandson, he can’t eat that many anyway,” Auntie Jiang told them.
Shang Yinyin knew a lot about Auntie Jiang. Widowed young, she had raised her two children all by herself. To ensure her daughter could marry well and succeed in her studies, she had poured an immense amount of effort into her. Back when universities hadn’t fully reopened and only recommendation quotas allowed students to attend, she used her maiden family’s connections to pull strings until her daughter finally secured a spot.
In return, Auntie Jiang’s daughter treated her very well, giving her ten yuan every month from her salary, frequently coming back to visit, and bringing plenty of food and daily necessities. Unfortunately, Auntie Jiang had an unfilial son and daughter-in-law, meaning her own life at home was actually quite difficult—yet she refused to burden her daughter’s family with her troubles.
When they reached their stop, Uncle Niu was there to pick them up. Auntie Jiang generously shared some candies with him as well, and the group chatted all the way back.
Meanwhile, Xie Quanzhou had secured his leave the previous night, bought his ticket bright and early, and boarded the train, eager to return and see his wife. Throughout the entire journey, he kept pulling out Shang Yinyin’s photograph, staring at the young woman in the picture with a silly grin.
An older woman sitting nearby noticed how happily he was smiling and followed his gaze.
“Young man, that’s a fine-looking girl. Is she your intended?” the older woman asked, instantly reading through his thoughts.
Xie Quanzhou nodded. “She’s my wife. She married me when she was sixteen.”
“Sixteen? She married you that young?” The older woman was surprised, though the astonishment quickly vanished. She herself had been married off to her husband at thirteen or fourteen. While her own son and daughter hadn’t married until their twenties, she quickly recovered from the initial shock. In these times, plenty of girls in rural families married early simply to help alleviate the burden on their households.
“Yes, she married me at sixteen. She was still just a child back then.” Xie Quanzhou hadn’t wanted to force the marriage initially, but he had grown to deeply care for Shang Yinyin. He had planned to wait until she turned eighteen to formally propose, but her aunt had tricked Shang Yinyin into slipping a potion into his drink. Nervous, Shang Yinyin ended up drinking the drugged water herself. Bound by conscience, Xie Quanzhou couldn’t just stand by. Seeing her suffer so intensely from the concoction, his only option was to carry her to the clinic. Even though they hadn’t crossed the ultimate line, physical intimacy had occurred, and Chen Cuihua used that to force him into marrying her right then and there. He had consoled himself by thinking he intended to marry her eventually anyway, so doing it a bit earlier didn’t change much.
“Do you have children yet?” the older woman asked.
“Not yet. She’s too young. I discussed it with her—we’ll wait until she’s a bit older before having kids.” Xie Quanzhou smiled. He and Shang Yinyin had never shared a bed in the true sense, so naturally there were no children, nor would he ever force someone so young to bear them.
“How old is your wife now?” the older woman continued inquiring.
“She should be twenty-four now,” Xie Quanzhou replied with a smile.
“Well, it’s definitely a good time to start thinking about a family then.”
Xie Quanzhou nodded. “There’s no rush. I don’t want to rush into it. Having children is something that has to be decided by my wife—if she wants them, we’ll have them; if she doesn’t, we can just enjoy our life together as a couple.”
“You really are a good husband,” the older woman remarked, feeling a wave of envious admiration rather than surprise. If she had met a man like this when she was young, her life would have been truly happy.
“Young man, your wife must be very lucky to have married you,” she said with a blessing in her tone.
Looking guilty, Xie Quanzhou shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve been a good husband. I just hope I can become a good one from now on and bring her happiness.”
The older woman didn’t say anything more. Xie Quanzhou felt a deep sense of happiness, eagerly anticipating the moment he would finally lay eyes on her again.
Back in the village, Shang Niannian bounded into the house the moment they arrived.
“Mom! I’m back!” she called out, dropping her bags in the courtyard and eagerly searching for her mother.
“What are you shouting for?” Chen Cuihua responded with her usual impatient tone.