Jiang Zhen examined He Shuli’s body, reviewing memories: “These are He Shuli’s memories. Even if Du Qiuyi tampered, I can’t see it. Before surgery, Du Qiuyi fussed over her. He Shuli treated her like an old friend, mentioning her sister’s not-biological status as a last wish. She hoped Du Qiuyi would help find the sister’s real family. In the memory, Du Qiuyi looked strange, as if she knew the sister’s background.”
Gu Liancheng thought: “Fan City Hospital used to be a private Baoyi Hospital. Fourteen years ago, Du Qiuyi was still an intern, too young to swap things. If she did it, what was her motive?”
Jiang Zhen’s eyes glimmered: “If you find evidence, she’ll face the death penalty. I just need to examine the body.”
Gu Liancheng: …“Let’s plan carefully.”
…
Du Qiuyi was nervous. He Shuli’s death wasn’t inevitable, but Du Qiuyi knew the sister wasn’t biological. With the Wan family’s resources, any investigation could expose traces of the swap—disastrous consequences.
The child-swapping operation had lasted decades: selecting children from wealthy families, swapping them, then reclaiming half the inheritance. Years ago, her master recruited her. To practice, she swapped He Shuli’s sister with the hospital director’s daughter. Later, her master died in a shelling incident, she went abroad, and the operation ceased.
Returning to the country for six months, she considered resuming the business—but plans change. She decided to stop, letting the past errors continue.
…
Gu Liancheng still had one day of wedding leave. He told Jiang Zhen: “Fan City winters are harsh. Tomorrow we’ll go to the market to stock up on winter supplies.”
Jiang Zhen wanted to buy pots and pans for her storage space. The next day, with four children, Gu Liancheng arrived in a light truck, loading the kids into the cargo area.
Jiang Zhen, surprised: “You didn’t drive this from the military, did you? Is it suitable?”
Gu Liancheng laughed: “My grandfather had a textile branch here; my uncle ran it. The trucks were imported from abroad with machinery years ago. Two trucks—one donated to the transport team during the liberation, the other kept by the factory.”
Although by 1953 it would be nationalized, before then, it could still be privately used.
Jiang Zhen, slightly nervous: “You never mentioned this before marriage.”
During their blind-date marriage, Gu Liancheng, freshly reborn, cared more about family safety than material possessions.
He said: “My uncle’s household is a mess. Before my mother passed, she told us not to divide the textile factory.”
Jiang Zhen wrung her hands; she didn’t dare dispute Gu Liancheng’s family matters.
He noticed her regret: “You want a share?”
“Somewhat. But with our relationship, I feel awkward asking you to compete with your uncle.”
She mused: “Could the child swap be a business? What if your uncle isn’t your uncle?”
Gu Liancheng: …“Nothing so coincidental—no way.”
…
At the market, Jiang Zhen slipped away from Gu Liancheng to buy pots and pans, and ran into Dr. Qi accompanying An Xiuqing for winter supplies.
An Xiuqing greeted them warmly: “If I’d known, we’d have met. Dr. Qi arranged a bullock cart with the farmers; you can ride along.”
Gu Liancheng coldly refused: “No need, we have a vehicle.”
Seeing their truck, An Xiuqing felt slighted. Gu Liancheng’s family was wealthy. His maternal grandfather had founded a textile factory in 1915, eventually expanding to six branches nationwide. Now only three remained, but at its peak, the business reached the Nanyang region.
Even after political upheavals and family setbacks, Gu Liancheng, reborn, could witness and act—but the era was overwhelming.
An Xiuqing realized Gu Liancheng’s indifference was care in disguise. But it was useless—she wouldn’t let that affect her. She no longer cared about past tensions with Dr. Qi or He Shuli.
…
While calculating winter supplies, An Xiuqing remembered that in 1953, rationing would begin, small vendors abolished—everything would need coupons.
Better to stock now, while free trade was still possible.
She eyed a basket of premium charcoal, perfect for a winter fire. Smiling, she turned to call Dr. Qi, but saw him speaking to a little girl.
“You must be He Shuli’s sister. She worried most about you. She said that after recovery, she’d earn money to send you to medical school, so you could become a doctor.”
The girl’s eyes reddened, voice choked: “Dr. Qi, you’re a good person. Thank you for helping my sister, and for not looking down on her.”
Qi Junhai’s throat tightened. He bought both baskets for his household winter supply.
He Shulan, grateful: “Thank you, Dr. Qi. I’ll carry them.”
An Xiuqing, seeing Dr. Qi and little He Shulan shoulder to shoulder, each carrying a basket to the cart, felt bitter—solving He Shuli’s case, only to have another He Shulan appear.
…
Jiang Zhen told Gu Liancheng: “Look at An Xiuqing—her expression is a bit scary.”
Gu Liancheng saw it—An Xiuqing had changed. From treating her aunt as a wish-granting lamp to reality, she seemed unfamiliar.
He looked once, then refused further: “He Shuli’s sister is young—no real danger.”
Jiang Zhen nodded: “True. The root solution is having Du Qiuyi die earlier—that’s more effective than prevention.”
Gu Liancheng, serious: “You promised, no illegal acts.”
Jiang Zhen quickly assured: “I’m not stupid. Let’s go, buy the supplies.”