The next day, the street office sent word for Jiang Rou to collect cardboard from the pharmaceutical factory. It was her first time doing odd jobs, and she felt a little excited. She immediately went to find Tang Xin and even borrowed a handcart from a neighbor in the courtyard to haul the cardboard. Because relations between the two families weren’t good, she didn’t dare knock on the Tang family’s door. Instead, she pulled out a small mirror she had prepared in advance and flashed it through the window.
That was their secret signal. Sure enough, Tang Xin came running out, eyes bright, and whispered, “Well? Did it work out?”
“It did. Let’s go.”
Tang Xin glanced cautiously around before the two of them slipped out of the compound one after the other, moving as if exchanging coded signals, wary of being seen.
The factory was far away, but fortunately two aunties from Jiang Rou’s courtyard also worked pasting paper boxes there, so they guided the girls through the process.
After picking up the cardboard, on the way home, one of the aunties asked curiously, “You two come from decent families. Why take on this kind of work at your age? Even a temporary job at a factory would be better than pasting boxes.”
Jiang Rou and Tang Xin exchanged a helpless look.
In the Tang household, Tang Xin was the least favored child. No one cared about her future; as long as she had food and shelter, that was considered enough. But food and shelter came at the price of endless chores—laundry, cooking, everything fell on her shoulders.
As for Jiang Rou, she hadn’t gone to work in a factory because she was too pretty. Her parents worried she’d be deceived by the men there, so they kept her at home, idle.
“Auntie, factory jobs aren’t easy to get. I think pasting boxes is fine,” Jiang Rou said.
Tang Xin quickly chimed in, “Yes, the hours are flexible, and we don’t have to deal with crowds. The pay is small, but it adds up.”
The aunties assumed they were just playing around and doubted the girls could meet the factory’s standards. Before parting, they reminded them: paste carefully—if the boxes weren’t up to standard, the factory wouldn’t accept them.
On that point, Jiang Rou was confident. She had a good memory; once she saw something, she could usually recall it. Her poor grades in school had been from lack of interest, not ability. Back home, the two worked together to carry the cardboard inside, trip after trip, until the cupboards were full.
The round dining table became their workbench. Jiang Rou stacked the cardboard and white paper strips on it, ready to begin once the paste was cooked. She had no idea how to make paste, but luckily Tang Xin did.
Twenty minutes later, the paste was ready. They sat at opposite ends of the table and began.
Tang Xin didn’t know how to paste, so she asked Jiang Rou for a demonstration. Jiang Rou recalled the process and calmly set to work: First, fold the cardboard into a long box shape. Then spread paste evenly across the white paper strip. The final step was the trickiest—aligning the spacing just right to stick the strip onto the box. After that series of steps, a proper cardboard box for injection vials was neatly finished.
Tang Xin tried to copy her movements, but failed. She tried again, and the result was ugly—obviously not up to standard. Frustrated, she sighed, “Earning a bit of money is too hard. If this doesn’t work, maybe we should try speculation and profiteering. I saw Zhang from the front yard secretly doing that.”
At the words “speculation and profiteering,” Jiang Rou’s heart gave a jolt. No matter what, she would never touch that trade.
“Keep your voice down, don’t let anyone hear.”
Reminded, Tang Xin quickly made a hush gesture and admitted her mistake. “Look at me, talking nonsense.”
Patiently, Jiang Rou taught her step by step. After ruining four or five boxes, Tang Xin finally got the hang of it.
The whole afternoon passed with the two of them pasting boxes.
Since Tang Xin had lied to her family to come out, she hurried home before four o’clock.
Left alone with a table full of cardboard, Jiang Rou kept working by herself. The repetitive motions were dull, but the thought of money kept her going. She persevered until Shen Chengdong returned, then finally rested.
The man’s eyes flickered with shock when he saw the pile of boxes.
Stretching her slender arms with a lazy smile, Jiang Rou explained, “Tang Xin and I plan to earn money pasting boxes. I’m pretty fast—at this rate, I could make several yuan in a week.”
Seeing the bright smile on her face, Shen Chengdong felt a mix of emotions. He stepped closer, gently kneading her shoulders, and murmured, “You’ve worked hard.”
Jiang Rou narrowed her eyes in pleasure, enjoying his massage. She didn’t feel it was hard at all—the work wasn’t tiring, only tedious. Still, having someone care for her felt rather nice.
“After dinner, I’ll paste some more. Better than sitting idle.”
Shen Chengdong frowned, squeezing her arm. “The light’s dim at night—it’ll strain your eyes. Do it in the daytime instead.”
Jiang Rou thought it over and agreed. Ruining her eyesight over cardboard boxes wasn’t worth it. So after dinner, she played with Shandian and the chicks for a while, then went to bed.
In the dimly lit room, Jiang Rou slept soundly. Shen Chengdong sat at the round table, picked up one of the finished boxes, studied it for a long time, then began pasting it himself. He worked through the entire night.
The next morning, when Jiang Rou saw the neatly stacked boxes on the cupboard, her jaw nearly dropped. She blinked hard to be sure—half of her week’s quota was already done! And the man was nowhere to be seen.
“How long did he paste these for? Doesn’t he care about his eyes?”
Though she grumbled, her heart felt sweet.
Even when Tang Xin arrived, Jiang Rou’s face was still lit with a tender smile.
“What happened? You look pretty happy.”
Seeing Tang Xin’s confusion, Jiang Rou proudly pointed to the stack of boxes on the cupboard. “These were all pasted by Chengdong. Well? Isn’t he amazing?”
“…” Tang Xin could only swallow the dog food and keep pasting boxes with a bitter smile.
With Shen Chengdong helping, what should have taken a week was finished in just three days.
Jiang Rou borrowed the handcart again, and this time Shen Chengdong helped them deliver the boxes to the pharmaceutical factory.
The inspector checked each one and, in the end, picked out only a single box that wasn’t quite up to standard.
When Jiang Rou received the payment, she was delighted. It wasn’t much, but it was the first money she had ever earned with her own hands, and the feeling was special.
Tang Xin tucked her one yuan and twenty cents into her pocket, then thought better of it. Feeling unsafe, she finally slipped the money into the lining of her undergarment before relaxing.
Shen Chengdong wanted to help carry the new batch of cardboard home, but Jiang Rou refused. “Go on with your work. Tang Xin and I can manage this much ourselves. Don’t let it interfere with your job. And from now on, no more pasting boxes at night!”
At the mention of work, a flicker of guilt crossed Shen Chengdong’s eyes. In the end, he still carried the cardboard back for them before leaving.
Along the way, Tang Xin watched his every move and couldn’t help sighing with envy. “Your man is really good—at least better than anyone else in the courtyard. Looks like you were right to agree to your family’s choice of a live‑in son‑in‑law.”
Jiang Rou nodded in agreement, feeling her decision had indeed been wise. Now that she had earned money, she wanted to buy something for her parents and for Shen Chengdong.
After parting with Tang Xin, Jiang Rou headed to the supply shop. She spent a long time carefully choosing, finally buying a pair of socks for her father, a small tin of clam oil for Chen Aihe, and—thinking of Shen Chengdong’s rough hands from repairing cars every day—a pair of white cotton gloves for him. After paying, she carried the items back to the compound. The moment she stepped over the high threshold, she heard someone shouting: “Deshan’s wife from the middle courtyard and old Tang’s woman are at it again!”
Jiang Rou’s heart skipped a beat. She quickened her pace toward home. When she reached the middle courtyard, she saw two women standing in the crowd, hands on hips, hurling insults at each other. One was Chen Aihe. The other was Tang Xin’s mother, Liu Meifeng, nicknamed “Fighting Hen Liu.”
Neither of them noticed Jiang Rou; they were too busy shouting.
“Chen Aihe, don’t think having a live‑in son‑in‑law makes you so high and mighty! In the end he’s still childless. I advise you to do more good deeds—before the day comes when your son‑in‑law runs off and you’ll be left crying!”
“Who are you calling childless? I’ll tear your mouth apart today!”
Seeing they were about to come to blows, Jiang Rou pushed through the crowd to stop them. But she had her own worry—afraid Chen Aihe would suffer, she grabbed Liu Meifeng directly and pleaded, “Don’t fight; talk it out.”
Startled by the sudden pull, Liu Meifeng turned to glare at Jiang Rou. “It was your mother who provoked me first! Don’t blame me for this fight!”
“What are you quarreling about again? Can’t you stop being angry all the time?”
But Liu Meifeng only curled her lip, unwilling to make peace.
At that moment, while everyone’s attention was on Liu Meifeng, Chen Aihe suddenly lifted her foot and kicked her hard from behind, cursing, “Call my family childless, will you? I’ll kick you to death!”
The kick landed with force. Liu Meifeng cried out, nearly collapsing, then shrieked like a slaughtered pig, furious: “Chen Aihe, you dare kick me! I won’t let this go!”
Jiang Rou froze—her mother had never gone beyond shouting before. This was the first time she had truly lashed out.
The onlookers were shocked too, fearing things would escalate. Someone hurried off to fetch Elder Meng Shuge.
It was noon, and Meng Shuge had barely slept for ten minutes of his nap when he was shaken awake.
“Elder, come quick! The Jiang family and the Tang family are fighting again!”
Meng Shuge frowned, grumbling with sleep still in his voice: “Those two have been quarreling for over twenty years. Their children are grown, and they still don’t tire of it!”
A few minutes later, he arrived, face stern. “What’s this about? Which of you will explain?”
Afraid of being blamed, Liu Meifeng rushed to answer: “She stole my buns! I only said a few words, and she started cursing me!”
In the compound, everyone cooked outside, and small thefts of food weren’t uncommon. Usually it was children sneaking bites. Adults rarely stooped to such shameful behavior.
To Chen Aihe, Liu Meifeng’s suspicion was a grave insult. “Which eye of yours saw me take them? This is slander—I could report you to the Revolutionary Committee!”
The Jiang family was well‑off, and Meng Shuge didn’t believe Chen Aihe would stoop to such a thing. He asked, “Liu Meifeng, do you have any proof? If not, this is pure fabrication.”
Seeing he wasn’t siding with her, Liu Meifeng grew anxious. “It was just the two of us in the courtyard. I had five buns heating on the stove. I turned around, and two were gone. If it wasn’t her, who else could it be?”
“Rubbish! My family doesn’t need your two buns. But you—calling us childless? That, I’ll be taking up with Elder Meng.” Chen Aihe snorted coldly, her words sharp with intent.
As expected, the moment Meng Shuge heard the words “childless,” his face darkened. He himself had only one daughter, Meng Wen, and the insult cut deep.
“Comrade Liu Meifeng, explain what you mean by ‘childless.’ It seems Old Tang has neglected your ideological education. Tomorrow he can come to my office.”
Liu Meifeng’s husband worked at the meat plant, and she feared Meng Shuge most of all. Now that she had touched his sore spot, she was terrified, her heart trembling.
“Elder, I didn’t mean anything. I just spoke rashly. Could you forgive me this once? At worst, I’ll give up the buns—would that do?”
“No! I won’t carry this blame. We must get to the bottom of it today!”
Chen Aihe’s eyes bulged, refusing to back down.
Jiang Rou also felt the matter had to be clarified. After a moment’s thought, she said, “Theft is against the law. I support my mother in pursuing this. Why don’t we let professionals handle it? I’ll report it to the Public Security Bureau.”
The mention of the police changed the atmosphere. As everyone murmured, Tang Zhen finally cracked under pressure and tugged secretly at Liu Meifeng’s sleeve.
Unfortunately, Liu Meifeng was too blunt to catch the hint. She barked aloud, “Why are you pulling me? Go stand aside!”
“…”
Her outburst drew everyone’s attention, and Tang Zhen flushed with shame.
Meng Shuge, shrewd as ever, immediately sensed the truth. His expression hardened. “Xiao Zhen, were you the one who ate those buns?”
Faced with the threat of police involvement, Tang Zhen hesitated for a long time before finally nodding.
“What? You ate them?! You wretched child! Those were saved for your elder sister!”
In the Tang household, both Tang Xin and Tang Zhen were unloved. But Tang Xin was at least straightforward and never resorted to such tricks.
Tang Zhen was different. Among the children who often stole food from neighbors, she was one of them. In fact, all the kids in the compound listened to her, often banding together to cause trouble.
Smack, smack! Liu Meifeng landed two hard slaps on Tang Zhen’s backside. Just as she was about to drag her home for more punishment, Chen Aihe blocked her path.
“You must apologize to me! If you don’t, this matter won’t end today!”
At that moment, Meng Shuge also spoke up: “Liu Meifeng, you’re clearly in the wrong here. Apologize to Chen Aihe.”
Others chimed in, “That’s right. You accused her falsely, so you should apologize.”
Under so many watchful eyes, Liu Meifeng pressed her lips together, then reluctantly lowered her head. “Sorry, I misunderstood you.”
Chen Aihe rolled her eyes, pulled Jiang Rou by the hand, and went home without giving Liu Meifeng the slightest courtesy.
With no more drama, the crowd gradually dispersed.
Inside the house, Chen Aihe was still fuming. “What kind of people are the Tang family? Lucky I never let you marry Tang Ce. Anyone stuck with a mother‑in‑law like that would be skinned alive!”
“Mom, I have nothing to do with Tang Ce. Could you please stop bringing him up?” Now that she was married, Jiang Rou didn’t want Shen Chengdong to misunderstand.
Realizing her slip, Chen Aihe dropped the subject. “Why are you home so early today? Don’t you have boxes to paste?”
At that, Jiang Rou brought out the gifts she had bought, smiling as she handed them over. “I earned this money myself. When I make more, I’ll buy you something even better.”
Chen Aihe accepted the items in surprise, her smile stretching wide. “Why buy me things? Next time, save the money for yourself. Don’t waste it like this.”
Though she said so, she clutched the little tin of clam oil tightly, clearly delighted. “Go to the repair shop and tell Chengdong to come home early. Tonight I’ll make dumplings for you two.”
Jiang Rou agreed happily, eager to give him the gloves she had bought.
“Oh, and your sister called. She said when she comes back, you don’t need to meet her at the train station. She’ll first visit her fiancé’s family, then come here.”
“Mm.” Jiang Rou showed no interest in Jiang Qiuyu’s affairs and deliberately changed the subject. “Mom, I’ll go find Chengdong now. Do you need me to buy anything else?”
Chen Aihe gave her a long look, thinking: These two daughters, in the end, it’s the matter of the house that’s driven them apart.
On the way to the repair shop, Jiang Rou kept fiddling with the pair of white cotton gloves, imagining how Shen Chengdong would look wearing them while fixing bicycles. The thought made her smile, eyes curved like crescents.
The shop wasn’t far, and she soon arrived. She saw the old master bent over his work and quickly stepped forward. “Master, may I ask if Shen Chengdong is here?”
The old man lifted his head at her voice. Recognizing her at once as Shen Chengdong’s wife, his face darkened and he snapped, “He’s not here.”
“Then where is he?” Jiang Rou looked around, but saw no sign of him.
Surprised at her ignorance, the old man asked, “You don’t know he quit working here?”
“Quit…?” Jiang Rou felt her head buzzing, too weak even to speak.
“Do you know where he is now?” she asked faintly.
“Go ask Liu Er. He might know.”
“…”
She didn’t know how long it took, but eventually Jiang Rou dragged her weary body back home.
Chen Aihe, puzzled, came over. “Did you talk to Chengdong?”
Jiang Rou shook her head and whispered, “I didn’t go. Halfway there, I suddenly felt drained, so I came back.”
Chen Aihe finally noticed how pale her daughter looked. She quickly reached out to feel her forehead. “What’s wrong? At least you don’t have a fever. I’ll make you some brown sugar water—it’s probably low blood sugar.”
“Thank you, Mom.” Jiang Rou nodded weakly, her heart sinking into despair. She had always wanted to change Shen Chengdong’s fate, but so far, all her efforts seemed useless. He was still hiding things from her, still dabbling in speculation and profiteering.
“Here, drink some brown sugar water.” Chen Aihe held the mug to her lips, her eyes full of concern.
“Ever since that serious illness, your health hasn’t been good. If it’s too much, stop pasting boxes. I can support you.”
The warm sweetness of the sugar water spread through Jiang Rou, softening her heart. Her cheeks regained color, and at last she had the strength to speak.
“Mom, I only paste boxes during the day. At night, Chengdong helps me. It’s not tiring at all, don’t worry—I’m fine.”
Knowing her daughter’s stubbornness, Chen Aihe sighed and said no more.
Meanwhile, Shen Chengdong was offering a cigarette to the foreman of the transport team.
The man took it, clamped it between his teeth, and said, “You’re sharp. In just a few days you’ve learned to drive. Our team needs a long‑haul driver—temporary work. Interested? But I’ll warn you, this route is dangerous; accidents happen often. No one wants it. If you’re willing, I can put in a word for you.”
Such a good opportunity—of course Shen Chengdong seized it without hesitation. Elated, he bought Jiang Rou’s favorite rice cakes and headed home. But the house was empty. Only the chicks and Shandian greeted him noisily. He raised his brows slightly, then turned toward his mother‑in‑law’s house. On the way, he debated whether to tell Jiang Rou the good news now. The job wasn’t confirmed yet, and he feared disappointing her if it fell through.
At the Jiang home, Chen Aihe welcomed him inside. “Xiao Rou’s not feeling well today. Stay for dinner—I’ll make dumplings.”
“How is she now?” Shen Chengdong’s smile faded, his eyes shadowed with worry.
Chen Aihe pointed toward the inner room and whispered, “Go see her. Keep quiet—she’s sleeping.”
“Alright.” He pushed the door open gently. On the kang bed, a small figure lay fast asleep. Holding his breath, he tiptoed closer.
Just then, Jiang Rou’s eyes snapped open.
Their gazes locked— and in hers, a cold gleam flashed.