Su Jinle swallowed the bun in her mouth. “Ten yuan.”
This time, Lin Yun heard her clearly. She froze for a moment — then her eyes suddenly reddened.
People always said her daughter was the most useless child she had raised. She could at least have married for a bride price, they said — but she fell into the water before finishing high school and became a stutterer.
Yet in her heart, her daughter had always been the most obedient and gentle.
When matchmakers had come by before, they only introduced widowers and much older men. Lin Yun had chased them all away.
She would rather raise her daughter for a lifetime than marry her off for money.
But misfortune had come one after another. A few months ago, her pride and joy — her son — had been gravely injured. He had barely survived. His leg still hadn’t healed; how could someone with a crippled leg return to the army?
Even his previous engagement had been called off. Now people at the cannery whispered that their family was cursed with bad luck.
Seeing her mother cry, Su Jinle panicked. She flustered and tried to comfort her.
“Made money… made money. Didn’t lose.”
She tried hard to make her words smoother.
“Earned seven yuan.”
Lin Yun broke into laughter through tears and hugged her daughter tightly. “Lele has grown up. She can earn money now.”
A wave of bitterness surged in Su Jinle’s heart. Girls her age were already working — some were even married. Only her mother still treated her like a child.
When Su Weihua got home from work and saw the lavish dishes on the table, he blinked in surprise.
“What’s the occasion?”
Stir-fried eggs with chili, braised pork, big steamed buns — this was more extravagant than New Year’s.
Su Yian sat on a stool, a crutch resting beside him, smiling. “Dad, we’re all benefiting from Lele today. She went to the small market to sell clothes and earned seven yuan!”
Su Weihua glanced at his wife. She nodded with a bright smile, even taking large bites of egg — something she rarely did. Only then did he recover from the shock.
“My daughter is amazing.”
Usually, Su Jinle didn’t like to speak — even at home she avoided it when she could.
But today she didn’t shy away from her stutter. Smiling brightly, she said, “Dad… the day after tomorrow… I’ll go again.”
She had already arranged to meet the woman again to sell dresses.
“Going again?” Su Yian was surprised. He had assumed she only wanted to sell the shirt she’d prepared for Gu Jingxiu. He hadn’t expected her to become hooked on business.
Su Jinle proudly pointed to the blue dress. “Keep… selling!”
That night, she leaned over the desk drawing design drafts.
She had never studied fashion design, but she loved it. In her previous life, she’d often read fashion magazines and watched runway shows on television.
Her pencil moved smoothly across the paper — a square-neck dress, elegant and stylish. Matching fabric buttons lined the front. A waist belt accentuated the figure. Whether twenty or thirty, any woman would look beautiful in it.
Fueled by enthusiasm, she worked past eleven at the sewing machine.
Lin Yun came to urge her to sleep several times. “Lele, do it tomorrow. It’s already late.”
“Not late.”
At the thought of earning money, she felt she could work all night.
Su Weihua chuckled. “It’s rare she’s in such a good mood. Let her be. She can sleep in tomorrow.”
The next morning, with dark circles under her eyes, Su Jinle climbed out of bed and continued sewing. Though delivery wasn’t until the day after tomorrow, she wanted extra time to perfect the details.
She wrapped the buttons with leftover floral fabric. The belt wasn’t fixed — she had drafted several versions before deciding a French-style twisted rope belt would suit it best. The tassels hanging down were troublesome and required hand adjustments.
She spent a full hour on the belt alone. At noon she barely ate, and by two in the afternoon the dress was finally finished.
To improve its shape, she lightly washed it and hung it outside to dry.
Under the sunlight, the water-blue dress was breathtaking.
Su Yian looked out the window and smiled. “It would look beautiful on you.”
Lele’s fair skin suited blue perfectly.
She cupped her face in her hands, large eyes and long lashes like a doll from television. When she smiled, a small dimple appeared on her right cheek.
“Earn money… your leg will heal.”
Su Yian paused for a long time, then gently ruffled her soft hair. “That’s not your responsibility.”
Maybe not her responsibility.
But he was her family.
Turning back, sunlight filled her eyes. When she slowed down, she didn’t stutter.
“Brother… don’t leave in the future. Let’s stay home together, okay?”
In her previous life, his leg had never fully healed. He had gone far away. He sent money regularly but rarely came home. Later she married and moved with Gu Jingxiu for work. One in the north, one in the south — meeting was painfully rare.
Su Yian had planned to leave once she married. Hearing her now, he sighed softly.
“Okay.”
Only then did she feel at ease. Her brother never broke his promises to her.
Because he hadn’t fully recovered, he soon grew tired. She urged him to rest while she went to dry some flower petals for making sachets.
A few scraps of fabric remained from the dress. Not wanting to waste them, she threaded elastic through to make hairbands.
She had just begun threading the sewing machine when the courtyard gate was pushed open.
Putting down her work, she hurried outside.
It was Gu Jingxiu.
And Yang Muqing.
“What… are you doing here?” Su Jinle frowned, wanting only to send them away.
Yang Muqing came from a well-off family — the factory director’s daughter. She was bright and beautiful but spoiled and arrogant. People were used to flattering her. Even someone as accomplished as Gu Jingxiu wasn’t particularly impressive in her eyes.
Seeing Su Jinle, Yang Muqing lifted her chin, displeased.
“Gu Jingxiu, what do you mean? Why let a little stutterer make my clothes?”
Gu Jingxiu coaxed gently, “Didn’t you want a unique dress? Handmade ones aren’t sold outside.”
Su Jinle clenched her fists.
In her previous life, just after they had confirmed their relationship, Gu Jingxiu had told her a colleague admired her sewing and wanted a dress made. That had been the most he’d spoken to her at once.
She had poured her heart into that dress. Yet his requirements were strict — unique, high-quality fabric, excellent design. She had drawn draft after draft before he was satisfied.
Later, in his diary, she saw:
Muqing loved the dress she made. This is the only thing I can do for her.
At that moment, Yang Muqing spotted the blue dress hanging in the courtyard.
Her eyes lit up.
Pointing at it, she ordered, “I want this one. Gu Jingxiu, go take it down for me.”