“Third sister? Since when have I had a third sister?”
“Ah… it’s a long story. Your third sister grew up at your aunt’s home. She’s come back to stay this time, for good. I want all of you to get along well. Jinxia has suffered enough hardship—do not give her a hard time.”
Lu Weidong leaned against the wall, his brows drawn together. His gaze swept over Lu Jinxia twice, cool and distant, not a word escaping his lips.
Lu Weidong had not intended to come home; the factory canteen served meals. He had only returned upon hearing that Lu Jianguo had taken leave, curious about what had happened.
Wang Xiulan came home every noon to cook, for two of the children were still in school. Lu Lichun attended the Second High School, which was close by, so she too came home for lunch each day.
Lu Lichun strode in, slamming her canvas schoolbag into the corner with a loud clatter. She stood sideways, looking Lu Jinxia up and down, her voice loud and sharp.
“Father—did you say she’s staying? This place is cramped enough as it is. Suddenly there’s one more mouth to feed. Our ration coupons and grain allowances will be stretched even thinner.”
Lu Jianguo’s expression darkened. “Watch your tongue. This is your third sister, Lu Jinxia. She was raised at your aunt’s and has now come home for good. As her elder brother and sisters, behave yourselves. Do not deliberately make things difficult for her.”
“Raised elsewhere or not—if she’s living here, she must follow the rules.” Lu Lichun’s lips curled into a stubborn pout. “I used to share a room with Eldest Sister. It was crowded beyond belief. Things finally felt a little roomier once she married and moved out. Now suddenly a third sister appears out of nowhere—am I supposed to share with her?”
“There is no other arrangement for now,” Wang Xiulan sighed, sounding helpless. “That room has bunk beds. Each of you takes one bed. For the time being, we must make do.”
The Lu family’s apartment consisted of two bedrooms and a living room. One bedroom was slightly larger, the other smaller. Lu Jianguo and Wang Xiulan occupied the smaller one. The larger room had been partitioned down the middle, creating two smaller rooms—one for the boys, one for the girls.
At Wang Xiulan’s words, Lu Lichun’s face fell further. She turned to Lu Jinxia, her tone carrying unmistakable warning.
“Fine. We can share. But let me make one thing clear from the start—this house does not feed idlers. You may rest for two days while your injury heals. Once it’s better, you will do your full share of household chores. No slacking. And everything in that room is mine. Do not touch or rummage through my things. I will grant you half the wardrobe space. Do not expect more, and do not try to be clever and take advantage.”
Lu Jinxia sat quietly, her eyes lowered, revealing neither anger nor offense. She understood exactly what her sister was thinking, yet she did not rise to the bait—she merely nodded calmly.
Lu Weidong spoke then, his tone flat and devoid of warmth.
“If you are to stay, you will abide by this family’s rules. Live quietly and cause no trouble. Xiangyang and I share the other room; we will not be around to oversee things here. As for the two of you—be mindful of how you treat one another.” With that, he walked over to the table and waited for the meal to begin.
Lu Xiangyang, still young, found the whole situation novel. He peered curiously at Lu Jinxia several times, though the tense atmosphere kept him from chattering freely.
“Stop standing about. Sit and eat,” Lu Jianguo said, breaking the awkward silence as he set out chopsticks and bowls.
The meal was simple: stir-fried greens, pickled dried radish, and cabbage with glass noodles.
Lu Xiangyang reached for his chopsticks, only to be gently stayed by Wang Xiulan. “Let your third sister begin first.”
“So much fuss,” Lu Lichun muttered under her breath. She grabbed her chopsticks and began eating at once, eating quickly and unapologetically—she would not yield an inch. One extra person was already unbearable; she certainly had no intention of deferring to this stranger. Hmph—over my dead body.
The atmosphere at the table was heavy and stifling. Lu Weidong ate rapidly, head down, speaking not a single word. Lu Lichun ate while casting frequent, disapproving glances at Lu Jinxia. Only Wang Xiulan, her heart aching for her daughter, quietly slipped morsels of food into Lu Jinxia’s bowl—though mindful of the other two children, she dared not be too obvious about it.
Lu Jinxia observed every expression and unspoken attitude around her, her mind already turning over plans. She ate her meal in silence, composed and watchful.
When the meal ended, Lu Weidong slung his tool bag over his shoulder and left without another word, heading straight for the factory. Lu Xiangyang, brimming with energy, tossed aside his bowl and darted outside to play.
Lu Lichun wiped her mouth, slung her schoolbag over her shoulder, and paused before Lu Jinxia on her way out—reiterating her terms.
“You’ll sleep in our room tonight. Bunk beds. I take the lower bunk; you get the upper. Ask Mother to find you an old set of bedding—make your own bed properly. And keep quiet at night. Don’t toss and turn or make noise and disturb everyone’s sleep.”
She paused, then added pointedly, “And remember—our grain ration books and household registrations are fixed. With one more person, every meal from now on will be stretched tighter.”
Lu Jinxia looked up and replied evenly, “My household registration and grain ration entitlements… surely they will be transferred here together with me?”
Her tone was neither soft nor aggressive—just matter-of-fact, hitting exactly the right note.
Lu Lichun blinked, then scowled, falling silent. She let out a loud, dismissive huff, stomped her feet loudly, and stormed out without looking back.
Once she had gone, the room fell quiet. Wang Xiulan began clearing the table, looking worn and troubled.
“Your second sister has a fiery temper and a sharp tongue. Pay her no mind. The room has old-fashioned bunk beds—it is spacious enough for two. You will manage.”
“I understand,” Lu Jinxia replied calmly.
Wang Xiulan set down her work and sat beside her, speaking earnestly.
“Your father and I have discussed this. If you wish to continue your schooling, we will try to reinstate your student records so you may sit for this year’s junior high graduation examinations.”
Lu Jinxia spoke quickly. “I do wish to go to school.”
She had been about to bring up the very subject herself—their volunteering to help saved her the trouble.
“That can be arranged,” Lu Jianguo said, puffing on his pipe and blowing a cloud of smoke. “I shall take care of all the paperwork—student records, household registration, and grain ration transfers. I will run errands at the neighborhood office and commune to get everything sorted. You focus on resting and recovering. Leave everything else to us.”
Her parents’ kindness was genuine—yet limited. Compared to this newly returned daughter, their children who had grown up before their eyes naturally mattered far more. Had they truly cared deeply for her, they would never have allowed Lu Weidong and Lu Lichun to speak to her so harshly.
The barriers under one roof, the inevitable frictions of daily life—all stood plainly before her eyes. Lu Jinxia knew full well: she had been away from this family for far too long, shared little affection with her parents, and could not rely indefinitely on their guilt to secure her place.
A more pressing concern loomed: soon, all urban youth would be subject to mandatory rustication—sent down to the countryside. In all likelihood, she—who had just come from the countryside—would be the prime candidate to be sent back. But she had only just escaped rural life; she had no wish to return. Which meant that upon graduating high school, she must secure employment.