Those deep, peach-blossom eyes were fixed on her.
1973, Beijing.
The night wind stirred, and the large red lantern hanging high in the courtyard swayed gently. Inside, red candles flickered beneath the pasted double-happiness character. Jiang Rou bit her cherry lips and turned her head toward the blurred red character, her misty eyes filled with confusion and the helplessness of tasting something for the first time.
It was as if a clear spring had been ignited by summer fire—everywhere burned unbearably hot.
The courtyard walls were thin, unable to block sound. She lifted her soft arm to cover her mouth, but the next moment a stronger wave of dizziness overtook her. She didn’t know how long it lasted, or how many times, before she finally fainted from exhaustion. Perhaps worn out, she dreamed a long dream that night.
In the dream, she was nothing more than a brainless supporting character in a novel, living only to serve as a foil to her brilliant elder sister. The ending was so tragic that Jiang Rou woke up crying. The first thing she saw upon opening her eyes was a sharply handsome face. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, not an ounce of excess flesh—Shen Chengdong’s deep peach-blossom eyes were gazing at her, tinged with uncertainty.
“Had a nightmare?”
Facing him, Jiang Rou lowered her eyes guiltily, her soft voice trembling with tears. “Mm.”
They had married only yesterday and had met only three times in total. Though now bound in intimacy, the atmosphere between them was still delicate.
Shen Chengdong looked at her damp almond eyes, his throat bobbing unconsciously. He flexed his fingers, suppressing the urge to wipe her tears, and smoothed his brow to appear less stern.
“Dreams run opposite. Go back to sleep—I’ll make breakfast.” With that, he rose quickly, pulling on a white vest. His strong frame was revealed, brimming with energy.
Jiang Rou hid her face under the quilt, peeking at him through a slit. Only when he left the room did she dare to breathe out.
According to the book in her dream, she and Shen Chengdong would become a resentful couple. Married for three years, he would toil like a beast of burden for her family, yet she would remain dissatisfied, often blaming him for his lack of ability. Later, with no child after three years, she would succumb to gossip and divorce him. After the divorce, their fates would reverse. Shen Chengdong would rise to become the richest man in China, while she remarried a cruel man, lived miserably, and only escaped torment in death.
Upon hearing of her death, Shen Chengdong would avenge her and even support her parents—pure repayment of grievance with virtue.
Jiang Rou peeked out, her pink face dazed. Truthfully, she found Shen Chengdong quite satisfactory in every way. Why would the book write such things?
“Sigh…” She exhaled softly, deciding not to dwell on it.
For now, Shen Chengdong seemed a loyal, righteous man. She wanted to continue living with him. Even if the dream were true, so what? Better to cherish the present and live their days well before anything happened.
Guessing breakfast was ready, Jiang Rou rose slowly to dress. Lowering her head, she noticed faint marks that made her blush. Enduring the soreness, she pulled a white scarf from the wooden chest and tied it snugly around her neck, covering herself completely. When she stepped outside, she saw his tall figure carrying a basin of cornmeal buns toward the east room. Their eyes met across the air, both awkward.
Noticing her discomfort, Shen Chengdong belatedly understood. His gaze fell on the scarf, ears reddening. “Still hurts?”
“Eh?” Jiang Rou blinked, then realized his meaning. Her toes curled in embarrassment—she wished she could stuff a bun into his mouth to silence him.
Before she could reply, he added, “Sorry. I didn’t control my strength.”
They stood close, his voice clear and pleasant, his presence achingly familiar. Her face flamed. Surely he was teasing her on purpose!
She turned to flee, but nearly collided with Chen Aihe, who had come looking.
“What are you two doing outside? Hurry in—the dishes are getting cold!”
“Mom…” Jiang Rou stood obediently, wondering how much she had overheard.
Shen Chengdong pressed his lips together behind her.
In truth, Chen Aihe hadn’t heard clearly. But as a new mother-in-law, she felt it necessary to assert authority before her son-in-law—lest her daughter suffer later. This son-in-law looked like a wolf, not easy to tame!
Chen Aihe deliberately straightened her face and instructed them both: “After breakfast, go to the supply and marketing cooperative to buy some candy to share with everyone, and take the chance to meet the neighbors.”
Jiang Rou nodded obediently, which only made Chen Aihe frown. “Forget it. Once we’ve bought the wedding candy, I’ll take you to hand it out.”
The Jiang family lived in a large courtyard with three sections—front, middle, and back—housing more than twenty families, nearly a hundred people in all.
Neighbors of decades weren’t always easy to deal with. Chen Aihe worried her daughter’s tongue was too clumsy; if she suffered a loss, that wouldn’t do.
Breakfast was barely halfway through when someone came knocking.
It was Jiang Rou’s sister-in-law, Shi Lan. Seeing her troubled face, Jiang Rou instantly recalled the plot from the book and understood her purpose.
The Jiang family had three children. The eldest son was the orphan of a comrade-in-arms, who grew up to be a soldier and married Shi Lan, with whom he had a daughter. Sadly, he died on a mission ten years ago.
The second daughter, Jiang Qiuyu, was the heroine of the book. She was the child of Jiang Rou’s second uncle, who died unexpectedly, and was adopted into the Jiang family ten years ago.
The youngest was Jiang Rou, their biological daughter.
In the courtyard, the Jiang family had two main rooms. When the eldest married, one was given to him. After his death, Shi Lan moved with her child to the staff dormitory to give her in-laws more space. Now she had returned, dismissed from her job after a slip of the tongue. With no family of her own, she had no choice but to seek help from her husband’s family.
“Mom, I’m sorry. Xiao Rou just got married yesterday, and here I am asking for a room. I really have nowhere else to go…”
No one could have foreseen such misfortune. Chen Aihe patted her hand, comforting her: “This will always be your home. Rest easy. I’ll have Xiao Rou make room for you.”
“Thank you, Mom…” Shi Lan’s eyes brimmed with tears. She was grateful for such an understanding mother-in-law, though guilt lingered. “But what about Xiao Rou?”
After all, she was newly married—she couldn’t live with the elders forever.
Chen Aihe had already thought of this and had a plan. “Tomorrow I’ll ask Han Laosan for the house. That was left to Xiao Rou by the old master. Our family has helped them for over ten years—it’s time it ended.”
Listening from the side, Jiang Rou wasn’t so optimistic. In the book, that house eventually went to Jiang Qiuyu, and she never got it back, even to her death.
By the time they had moved everything from the bridal room to the east wing, it was nearly noon.
Remembering that the wedding candy still hadn’t been bought, Chen Aihe took out two yuan and some ration coupons. After a moment’s thought, she put one yuan back into the wooden money box. She handed the rest to Jiang Rou, instructing: “Just buy orange candies. It’s the thought that counts. Look at Er Ya in the front yard—she married without even giving out candy.”
In those days of scarcity, fruit candy cost one cent apiece. Five candies per household would be enough to earn the Jiang family praise for being considerate.
After a morning of work, Jiang Rou accepted the money and asked softly:
“Mom, is Dad’s bicycle at home?”
“No, he rode it to work. Hurry along—if you dawdle, it’ll be dark before you’re back.”
Jiang Rou had no choice but to go. The early spring air was still cold. She wore only a red, high-necked, cable-knit sweater, the bright color making her look even more delicate and radiant. Her graceful figure, paired with Shen Chengdong’s tall, sturdy build, made them look perfectly matched.
Walking one behind the other out of the courtyard gate, Shen Chengdong suddenly stopped. Jiang Rou, unprepared, bumped into his broad, solid back, her forehead stinging from the impact. She lifted her head, eyes misty. “Why did you stop so suddenly?”
Seeing the red mark on her forehead, Shen Chengdong frowned instinctively, looking fierce and hard to approach.
In the past, Jiang Rou would have been frightened. But now she knew—this man only looked intimidating. So she reached out with her slender fingers, gently poking the furrow between his brows. “You look nice when you smile. Could you smile more often?”
Her request startled him. Then, hesitantly, he tugged at the corner of his lips, forming the faintest curve—stiff, yet tinged with shyness. “Wait here. I’ll go borrow something.”
Jiang Rou wanted to ask where he was going, but before she could, Shen Chengdong had already strode off on his long legs. Five minutes later, he returned, pushing a bicycle. His tall, upright figure looked even more spirited than the city folk.
Jiang Rou’s eyes lit up, her voice rising with delight: “Where did you borrow the bicycle?”
Shen Chengdong wheeled it to her side, swung his leg over, and, with a faint smile in his eyes, said: “From Liu Er. Come on, get on.”
“Mm, okay!” Jiang Rou happily perched on the back seat, already thinking that once they bought the wedding candy, she must give Liu Er a few pieces in thanks.
Once she was settled, Shen Chengdong pedaled hard, heading toward the supply and marketing cooperative.
Compared to Jiang Rou’s high-necked sweater, he wore only a white shirt. The hem fluttered in the wind, and Jiang Rou quietly tugged it down, wanting to ask if he felt cold—but too shy to speak.
Soon, they arrived at the cooperative. Three low houses stood there, gray walls neatly painted with the words: Serve the People. After parking the bicycle, they went inside.
Jiang Rou followed her mother’s instructions and bought orange candies. Then her gaze fell on the White Rabbit milk candies beside them—how she longed to buy a few.
Standing behind her, Shen Chengdong noticed and frowned slightly. His hand tightened in his empty pocket; he could only watch, unable to take out a single coin.
Jiang Rou, facing forward, didn’t see his expression. She remembered she had brought her saved-up New Year’s money. From her satchel, she pulled out a cloth wallet—inside was fifty yuan, her entire savings.
“Comrade, please weigh me a jin of White Rabbit milk candies.”