At these words, the atmosphere in the room instantly brightened.
Lu Jianguo was overjoyed as he listened—this was truly wonderful news! She would not be sent to the countryside to till the land; instead, she could stay in the city and earn a wage. Her future was now secure, in large measure. Though she had not grown up by his side, she was still his daughter. It would be untrue to say he felt no affection for her; it was simply that he did not love her quite as deeply as the children he had raised at home. Even so, seeing her find work on her own and avoid rural assignment filled him with happiness.
He brought out a bottle of spirits the family had kept for years, poured himself a small cup, then filled his eldest son Lu Weidong’s glass to the brim. “What splendid news!” he declared cheerfully. “Tonight, you and I shall drink to this!” He then turned to Lu Jinxia. “Now that you have work, do it well. Strive to become a permanent employee as soon as possible.”
“I will, Father.”
Lu Jianguo said no more. He and his eldest son sat together, sipping their wine, his face glowing with quiet satisfaction.
Beside them, Lu Lichun watched this scene and could not help curling her lip—though she said nothing. Over the past two years of clashes with Lu Jinxia, she had learned one thing well: whenever she picked a fight or argued with her, Lu Lichun was always the one who lost. And so she began merely sulking and staying silent, not daring to speak recklessly. Yet seeing the whole family rejoicing over Lu Jinxia, her resentment finally got the better of her. She interrupted, “Since Jinxia now works and earns a salary, shouldn’t she contribute the same monthly allowance to the household as the rest of us?”
The festive mood in the room instantly cooled.
Wang Xiulan privately agreed. The household expenses were considerable, and moreover, their eldest son was engaged and set to marry by the end of the year—an occasion that would cost a great deal. For a man of Lu Weidong’s age to remain unmarried was unusual; he was well past the customary age for marriage. Fortunately, he earned a steady wage and was handsome in appearance, so finding a match had not been impossible. He had met many young women through introductions without finding one to his liking—until he met his intended bride, who pleased him greatly. Yet her family’s demands were steep: a bride price of three hundred yuan, plus a sewing machine and a bicycle. All told, it would come to six or seven hundred yuan. An additional earner would certainly ease the household’s burden.
And yet Lu Jinxia had only recently returned from the countryside; she had always stood somewhat apart from the family, unlike her two siblings who were warm and affectionate toward their parents. Wang Xiulan hesitated. To press the matter of money might sever the fragile bond between mother and daughter. Uncertain how to proceed, she held her tongue.
Lu Jinxia lifted her gaze and glanced calmly at Lu Lichun. “Father, Mother,” she began, “in all fairness, now that I work and earn, it is only right that I should contribute to the family.” She established her reasonableness first, leaving no room for criticism. Then, her tone shifted: “But Elder Brother and Second Sister owe their positions entirely to the money and influence Father and Mother expended on their behalf. It is only proper that they should hand over their wages. My job, however, I secured entirely through my own entreaties. I spent not a penny of the family’s resources, yet I owe a considerable debt of gratitude to those who helped me—a debt I must repay in time. Furthermore, I am only employed on a temporary basis, and my wages are modest.”
“Therefore, I shall contribute a fixed monthly sum of three yuan for my board. Whatever remains I must keep for myself, to repay the favors I owe.”
Three yuan was exactly the standard minimum board contribution for unmarried factory workers—neither too much nor too little. It was entirely reasonable, and no one could reasonably object.
Lu Jianguo heard her words and felt a pang of guilt, for he knew she spoke the truth. They had contributed neither money nor effort toward securing her position. Though they had once spoken of helping her find work, jobs were scarce and their inquiries had been half-hearted. Once they learned the factories had finished hiring, they had pressed the matter no further. By contrast, his son and elder daughter had indeed secured their posts through substantial family investment and effort.
And so he rendered his decision plainly: “That is only just. Debts of gratitude are the hardest to repay. From now on, you shall contribute three yuan monthly for your meals. Whatever remains is yours to keep and dispose of as you see fit.”
Lu Lichun was instantly incensed. Her face burned with indignation. Why should Lu Jinxia be treated differently, when they were all children of this household? Lu Lichun and her brother handed over nearly every cent they earned; yet Lu Jinxia was to be let off with a mere three yuan? She began to speak, ready to voice her protest—only to meet Lu Jianguo’s stern, piercing gaze. The words died instantly on her lips. She bowed her head, choking back resentment, seething with injustice. Why should Lu Jinxia receive such special treatment?
It rankled deeply. Lu Lichun earned seventeen yuan a month, all of which she handed over to the household—keeping a mere two yuan for her own pocket. Meanwhile, Lu Jinxia would pay just three yuan for meals and keep everything else. How could such favoritism be tolerated?
Aggrieved though she was, she dared not press the matter further. Over the past two years, every quarrel she had picked with Lu Jinxia had ended to her own disadvantage. Lu Jinxia appeared quiet and unassuming, yet she was sharp-witted and perceptive. She spoke with precision and always had logic and justice firmly on her side—leaving Lu Lichun lost for words every single time. And now their father had spoken with finality and firmness. To protest further would gain her nothing; she would be the one to suffer his displeasure. Lu Lichun pressed her lips tightly together and hung her head, not daring to utter another word. If she could not fight it, she would simply have to endure it.
Wang Xiulan observed her second daughter’s suppressed fury and understood her feelings well. She sighed quietly and picked up her chopsticks to smooth things over. “Very well, let us eat. Since your father has spoken, that is how it shall be.” She turned toward Lu Jinxia, her tone as gentle as she could make it. “Three yuan shall be three yuan. You have only just begun; it is right that you should keep something in hand. Work diligently at your post. Get along well with your fellow workers and the veteran craftsmen—do nothing rash. As for the favors you owe, repay them slowly. There is no great hurry.”
Lu Jinxia nodded slightly. “I understand, Mother.” Her expression remained composed, unaffected by Lu Lichun’s petty displays of resentment. From the moment she had decided upon contributing three yuan for meals, she had anticipated the family’s discontent—especially from Lu Lichun, who had always looked upon her with disfavor. Yet her position was sound, and her reasoning had been carefully prepared. It was fair and beyond dispute.
Lu Jianguo took a sip of wine and regarded his youngest daughter—steady, sensible, and self-reliant—feeling increasingly at ease. In years past, he had always felt a certain distance toward her, having spent so long away in the countryside. But now he saw clearly: she was thoughtful, capable, and possessed of good judgment. She expected nothing from the family and had carved out her own path. She was far more dependable than Lu Lichun.
He set down his cup and spoke earnestly. “Do your work diligently. Your status as a temporary hand is not permanent. If your performance is good, openings for permanent posts will be offered to you first. So long as you labor faithfully and well, your future will surely grow ever brighter.”
“I shall remember your words, Father,” Lu Jinxia replied.
Lu Weidong, who had eaten quietly throughout the exchange, now spoke gently from where he sat.