Back at the courtyard compound, Jiang Rou quickly grabbed Meng Wen’s hand, panting as she said, “Sister Wen, come with me—something’s happened at your house.”
Meng Wen’s heart sank with a bad premonition. “Is Zhao Qi causing trouble again?”
“Yes, I heard your father collapsed from anger.”
Zhao Qi was like a nightmare she couldn’t escape. She nearly fainted but forced herself to stay alert and hurried out with Jiang Rou.
“I’ll go with you,” Han Yuanshang said, closing his door and following closely, his brows furrowed.
The three of them rushed back to the Meng household, where the courtyard was crowded with people murmuring anxiously.
Seeing Meng Wen return, someone quickly stepped forward to inform her: “Go inside, hurry—your father was driven sick by that ingrate.”
Jiang Rou followed her into the room. Meng Shuge was leaning weakly against the bed, his face pale. Chen Aihe and another aunt were tending to him, their expressions grave.
Before Meng Wen arrived, the neighbors had already fetched Doctor Wu from the front courtyard. He said the heart was fine, just high blood pressure, nothing serious. But since Meng Shuge hadn’t recovered, everyone remained worried.
Meng Wen rushed to his side, tears brimming. “Dad, how are you? Tell me where it hurts.”
Not wanting to frighten her, Meng Shuge waved his hand feebly, too weak to answer. That only deepened her worry. She immediately decided to take him to the hospital.
Someone brought a handcart, and Han Yuanshang helped lift Meng Shuge onto it, his expression solemn. “I’ll go with you. I know the hospital well.”
Meng Wen didn’t want to trouble him, but Jiang Rou pushed her onto the cart. “Sister Wen, illness won’t wait. My brother knows a lot and he’s strong—just let him go with you.”
Worried they might be overwhelmed if something urgent happened at the hospital, Jiang Rou and Chen Aihe went along as well. At the hospital, they went straight to the emergency ward. After examination, it was determined that Meng Shuge’s dizziness was caused by excessively high blood pressure. He needed to be admitted for overnight observation.
Han Yuanshang, familiar with the procedures, smoothly handled the admission paperwork.
Chen Aihe, unaware that her eldest sister secretly hoped Meng Wen might one day become her daughter-in-law, gazed at his tall figure and sighed to Meng Wen: “A household really needs a man. In situations like today, if you were married, no matter how capable Zhao Qi thinks he is, he wouldn’t dare bully you so easily.”
Meng Wen kept her eyes fixed ahead, silent for a long time.
Only one person was needed to stay with the patient overnight. Once everything was settled, Jiang Rou and the others rode the cart back to the compound.
On the way, Chen Aihe, right in front of Han Yuanshang, spoke again of Meng Wen’s hardships and cursed the ingrate, insisting retribution would come sooner or later.
Jiang Rou studied Han Yuanshang’s expression carefully, hoping to catch some hint of his feelings. But apart from his impassive face, there was nothing to read.
The next day after work, Jiang Rou bought two boxes of rice cakes and went to visit Meng Shuge. He had already been discharged that morning and was resting at home.
When the topic of Zhao Qi came up, Meng Shuge grew agitated again. “It was all my fault back then, choosing such a man for Meng Wen. I ruined her life.”
Jiang Rou didn’t know how to comfort him. Thinking of her cousin, she hinted gently: “Maybe Sister Wen’s blessings are still ahead. As for that scoundrel, don’t let him make you angry—the angrier you get, the happier he’ll be.”
They chatted a while longer before she left the Meng household. Just as she stepped out the door, Jiang Qiuyu blocked her path.
“Since returning to the city, I haven’t visited your home yet. Why don’t you take me there for a sit-down?”
Jiang Rou raised her brows in surprise, unable to guess her intentions. Better to be cautious—thieves are less worrying than schemers. Deciding to play it by ear, she agreed. “If you’re visiting someone’s home, shouldn’t you bring a gift? If you come empty-handed, you’d better not go.”
These past few days, Jiang Qiuyu had grown noticeably thinner. Hearing this, her heart clenched, and her pale face flushed with sudden color. “I’m your sister—do you really have to hold a grudge against me over a house?”
Seeing her anger rise, Jiang Rou summoned all her courage and decided to stand her ground. “What are you talking about? I don’t understand. Isn’t it customary to bring a gift the first time you visit someone’s new home?”
“……”
To achieve her goal, Jiang Qiuyu had no choice but to compromise. She handed over a pound of White Rabbit candies she had just bought, finally getting what she wanted.
To guard against any tricks, Jiang Rou led her into the main hall of her house.
Jiang Qiuyu looked around the familiar surroundings, her heart sour. This had been her father’s home—why had Grandfather given it to Jiang Rou instead? Suppressing her resentment, she glanced toward the bedroom. “By the way, could you give me a few hairpins? I haven’t had time to go to the supply store, and after combing my hair, too many stray strands fall loose.”
When it came to hair accessories, Jiang Rou had a slight obsession with cleanliness. Without hesitation, she refused. “I don’t have any either. You’d better go buy them at the store.”
Realizing it would be difficult to get near the bedroom today, Jiang Qiuyu grew impatient. “I heard you picked up two beautiful jewelry boxes from the recycling station. Could you let me see them?”
Ever since returning from the roast duck shop that day, she had been obsessed, turning the recycling station upside down in hopes of finding that jewelry box to win back the favor of the Zhong family. Later, she learned from the staff that a particularly beautiful young woman had recently bought two jewelry boxes there. Immediately, Jiang Qiuyu thought of Jiang Rou. She asked Chen Aihe and got confirmation. So, she was determined to trick Jiang Rou into handing over the box.
Realizing her cousin was after the jewelry boxes, Jiang Rou frowned slightly, wondering if she too knew there was treasure hidden inside. All her life, her belongings had been snatched away, returned broken. Now, no matter what, she would never let her cousin touch her things again.
“The two boxes you mentioned—Chengdong chopped them up for firewood.”
“What? Burned them?!” Jiang Qiuyu shot to her feet, panic written all over her face, unable to believe it.
“Perfectly good jewelry boxes—how could they be burned? You just don’t want me to see them, do you?”
Her sarcastic tone made Jiang Rou bristle. After a few seconds of silence, she answered truthfully: “Yes, I don’t want you to see them.”
Since she had decided not to treat her as a true sister anymore, she no longer feared angering her.
“Jiang Rou, you’re really something!” Jiang Qiuyu gnashed her teeth in hatred, but powerless, she could only leave with resentment in her heart. Back home, she deliberately put on a tearful look, hoping to draw Chen Aihe’s attention.
Chen Aihe did notice and asked, “What’s wrong? Did Zhong Fang upset you again?”
Jiang Qiuyu shook her head, then exaggerated what had happened with Jiang Rou, finally saying with tears in her eyes: “Mom, it seems Xiao Rou is still angry with me about the house. But that man is my uncle—he begged me again and again. I really had no choice.”
Hearing this, Chen Aihe fell into thought. Remembering what Chen Ailan had said the other day and doing the math, she realized that when it came to her two daughters, she and Jiang Deshan had indeed been biased. The money spent on the elder daughter was more than double what had been given to the younger. Though guilt was mixed in, it was still unfair to Jiang Rou.
“Xiao Yu, your father and I have always hoped you sisters could love each other. Even if one day we’re gone, you two could still support each other through life. Perhaps because of the house, Xiao Rou’s heart has been hurt. As her elder sister, could you not be more understanding of her, just this once?”
These words stunned Jiang Qiuyu, then filled her with bitter resentment: foster parents will always favor their biological child. No matter how outstanding she was, she could never compete with blood ties. Fortunately, she hadn’t been swayed by their sugar-coated words—otherwise, the one left heartbroken would only be herself.
Her face hardened as she asked coldly: “Mom, right now it’s Xiao Rou throwing a tantrum. Even if she’s wrong, I still have to understand her? It’s just an old jewelry box—does she really need to embarrass me over that?”
Chen Aihe wanted to say more, but Jiang Qiuyu gave her no chance. She packed a few clothes and headed out.
Seeing this, Chen Aihe hurried to stop her: “Where are you going? Can’t you talk things out calmly?”
“I’ll stay at my uncle’s place for a few days. Once Jiang Rou calms down, we can talk again.” With that, she walked away without looking back, her figure resolute.
At that moment, a surge of indescribable emotion welled up in Chen Aihe’s heart—sadness and disappointment mingled together, leaving her cold and disheartened…
Meanwhile—
Jiang Qiuyu arrived at Han Laosan’s home, startling him.
Seeing her come in with luggage, a look of unease flickered across his face. “What’s going on? Did you quarrel with your family?”
His family now lived in a cramped tube-shaped apartment, barely over twenty square meters, yet crowded with everyone under one roof.
Jiang Qiuyu glanced around, feeling disdain. But with nowhere else to go, she decided to make do here for a few days—if only to give the Jiang family a taste of her defiance.
“Mm, I quarreled with Jiang Rou. Uncle, let me stay here for a while.”
Han Laosan was about to agree when his wife loudly objected: “This shabby little place can’t accommodate such a grand guest! Don’t you have a fiancé? Go stay at his place!”
Jiang Qiuyu frowned, clearly displeased with her aunt. “I’m not married yet. Living together would damage my reputation. What, you don’t want to take me in?”
Knowing she had a good marriage prospect, Han Laosan, even if reluctant, had no choice but to let her stay.
“This is your home. Stay as long as you like. Don’t listen to your aunt—what happens here, I decide.”
In the end, his wife grudgingly cleared a small space for her.
Jiang Qiuyu took it all in, silently vowing: she must find a way to marry back into the Zhong family!
On May Day, the breeze was gentle and the sky cloudless.
Inside the grand hall of the machine factory, the annual Labor Day gala was underway. The spacious, brightly lit hall was filled with fluttering red flags and a sea of people.
Backstage, Jiang Rou peeked through a gap in the curtain. Seeing the crowd made her nervous, and she regretted agreeing so readily to her cousin’s request.
Han Yuanzhi, carefree as ever, patted her shoulder with a grin. “What, scared? Don’t worry. I’ve got plenty of stage experience. With me leading, you’ve got nothing to fear.”
His “stage experience” consisted entirely of carving radishes. Jiang Rou rolled her eyes, not taking his words seriously.
A minute later, the gala officially began.
The first to appear were the hosts: the factory director’s son, now working in the propaganda team, and the factory’s broadcaster, whose voice carried daily news over the loudspeakers. Their coordination was smooth, their diction crisp, and soon the audience erupted in thunderous applause.
Hearing this, Han Yuanzhi teased, “Listen—your voice is much nicer than theirs. If you build up your courage, maybe one day you’ll be up there too.”
Jiang Rou shook her head firmly. She had never dreamed of such things.
As applause rang out again and again, program after program passed, until it was finally their turn.
Before stepping on stage, Han Yuanzhi whispered encouragement: “Don’t be afraid. You’ve got this!”
Jiang Rou inhaled deeply, exhaled, and told herself silently: Don’t be nervous. She followed him to a stool and took her position in advance.
Han Yuanzhi sat on the stool while Jiang Rou crouched behind it. From that angle, she couldn’t see the audience at all—and suddenly, she felt less tense.
Their performance was Han Yuanzhi’s own invention: the story of a lazy youth who, upon entering the vast world, transformed into someone diligent and full of drive. It was humorous, lighthearted, and brimming with positive energy. With his smiling eyes and comical makeup, Han Yuanzhi drew roaring applause even before the act began.
Startled by the noise, Jiang Rou steadied herself and began reciting her lines. Her voice shed its usual softness; instead, it carried a lazy, mischievous lilt, perfectly embodying the image of a slothful youth.
After countless rehearsals, Han Yuanzhi was not surprised by her voice. But the canteen workers were stunned—mouths agape, unable to believe that the usually gentle girl could produce such a sound.
“Do you think our boss swapped Xiao Rou out for someone else?”
“Could be. Let’s check backstage after the show. If he really dared replace her, we won’t let him off easy!”
As the story unfolded, Jiang Rou’s voice shifted—from a lazy, mischievous drawl to a firm, fearless tone.
This marked the transformation of the once idle youth into a man who stood tall and strong.
The audience, rarely exposed to such a performance style, watched with keen interest. The engaging story drew frequent bursts of applause.
In the front row sat the factory leaders, listening closely—among them Director Hu and his wife. The director’s wife asked the secretary beside her, “Which workshop are they from? That was well done.”
The secretary, ever the know-it-all, replied, “They’re from the kitchen staff. Don’t you remember? You often praise Chef Han’s cooking.”
“This is Han Yuanzhi?” With his heavy makeup, she hadn’t recognized him.
“Yes, that’s him. Truly multi-talented. Behind him is his cousin, also an employee here.”
The director’s wife nodded, a glimmer of admiration in her eyes.
As the performance neared its end, there came a scene where Han Yuanzhi was supposed to feel sorrow over damaged state property. But he was born to laugh, not cry—he couldn’t even fake tears. During rehearsals, they had agreed that Jiang Rou would pinch him at the crucial moment. If he couldn’t cry, at least he had to look pained.
Jiang Rou had never pinched anyone before. At the critical moment, her fingers trembled, hesitant. But remembering she couldn’t ruin the performance, she imagined him as Shen Chengdong, the man long absent, and pinched hard.
Han Yuanzhi jolted, his face contorted in agony—so convincing he nearly burst into tears. That superb acting brought the performance to a perfect close, and once again they were met with thunderous applause.
Han Yuanzhi pulled Jiang Rou forward to bow to the audience.
When everyone finally saw Jiang Rou’s face clearly, they were stunned.
The factory’s “flower” was known to be the broadcaster Zhao Xiaolu, yet Jiang Rou was even more beautiful than Zhao Xiaolu, and her voice was lovelier too. Working in the canteen seemed far beneath her. This was the unspoken thought in everyone’s hearts the moment they laid eyes on her.
Jiang Rou couldn’t bear the way so many people stared at her, so she quickly tugged Han Yuanzhi’s arm and hurried offstage.
Backstage, the canteen staff surrounded them, each one praising how versatile and pleasant Jiang Rou’s voice was.
Han Yuanzhi bared his teeth in a grimace, clutching his lower back with one hand, and complained: “Didn’t any of you notice my performance? Why is no one praising me?”
“That was just you playing yourself—it doesn’t count as skill!”
Han Yuanzhi was left speechless, grumbling that today’s sacrifice had been far too great; his lower back was probably bruised from being pinched.
To encourage more workers to sign up, the gala also included a prize segment.
Every audience member had one vote to cast for their favorite act. Staff tallied the votes to award first-, second-, and third-place prizes, then distributed the rewards.
– First prize: a Hero-brand fountain pen
– Second prize: a thermos
– Third prize: a washbasin
Everyone gasped at the factory’s generosity! Many regretted not signing up themselves.
Han Yuanzhi was astonished too, and asked Jiang Rou what she wanted. She said she wanted the pen—she could secretly sell it for a decent sum. That left Han Yuanzhi completely dumbfounded.
Ten minutes later, the results were announced.
With half the votes, Jiang Rou and Han Yuanzhi won first prize—a fountain pen.
Since there was only one pen between them, Han Yuanzhi promptly resold it to Director Hu’s secretary.
This man held a high position, so no one with ulterior motives would dare report him. Besides, they weren’t exchanging the pen for cash, only for ration tickets and the Labor Day benefits distributed by the factory.
The secretary reluctantly handed over his own benefits, muttering nonstop: “You’re too ruthless—couldn’t you at least leave me some flour?”
But Han Yuanzhi refused coldly: “You know the value of that pen. Don’t act aggrieved after getting the better deal. Tomorrow you’d better gather all the tickets, or I won’t give you the pen.”
The secretary had no choice but to agree.
All the Labor Day benefits he got from the secretary, Han Yuanzhi didn’t keep for himself—he gave them all to Jiang Rou.
Jiang Rou didn’t take everything either; she returned half to him.
Worried she couldn’t carry it all, Han Yuanzhi pedaled his bicycle, ferrying her and the goods home together.
As they passed the public telephone booth, Granny Zhou called out to Jiang Rou: “Xiao Rou, your Dongzi has sent another telegram. Come in and collect it.”
Jiang Rou quickly jumped off the back seat, her eyes shining. She took the telegram and read: Arrived safely; the solar term has arrived. I miss you very much.
Fixing her gaze on those last five words, her heart swelled with a bittersweet ache, and she felt an unexpected urge to cry.
After the performance in the auditorium, Jiang Rou became famous in the machinery factory. Everyone now knew that the canteen had a beautiful young woman, prettier even than the factory’s “flower”—but unfortunately, she was already married.
Perhaps the afterglow of the show hadn’t faded, for several days the canteen was packed at lunchtime, with people eager to catch a glimpse of Jiang Rou up close.
This infuriated Han Yuanzhi. He immediately reassigned Jiang Rou to the back kitchen as an assistant, sending someone else to serve meals.
With her out of sight, the crowd’s curiosity gradually waned.
Once the canteen returned to normal, Han Yuanzhi finally moved her back to the serving line again.
That day, when lunchtime arrived again, Jiang Rou served dishes as usual. Just then, someone walked into the canteen and instantly drew everyone’s attention. It was the current factory beauty—Zhao Xiaolu.
Unlike Jiang Rou’s delicate, gentle charm, Zhao Xiaolu had a cute, doll-like face. Yet her voice was steady and magnetic, thanks to years of broadcasting.
Now, with the two “factory flowers” meeting face-to-face, the crowd looked on with eager curiosity, while the canteen staff braced themselves.
Zhao Xiaolu stepped up to Jiang Rou and handed over her lunch box. “I want braised pork—only lean meat, no fat. And a portion of cabbage, but without scallions.”
Jiang Rou lifted her gaze and replied matter-of-factly: “The braised pork is always mixed with fat and lean; there’s no all-lean option. As for the scallions in the cabbage, you can pick them out yourself while eating. There are so many people waiting behind you—I don’t have time to do that for you.”
Zhao Xiaolu had come looking for trouble. Hearing her request refused, she flared up at once: “What’s wrong with this canteen? So much fat in the pork—how’s anyone supposed to eat that? And scallions—why can’t you just leave them out?”
Han Yuanzhi heard the commotion and strode out from the kitchen, his face dark. “If you’ve got so many demands, go eat at the state-run restaurant! Don’t throw a fit in my place. Even if your father’s a workshop director, I won’t indulge you!”
Humiliated in front of everyone, Zhao Xiaolu nearly exploded with rage.
“Han Yuanzhi, you’re heartless! I’ll never speak to you again!”
Jiang Rou caught something unusual in her tone, her mind filling with question marks. She couldn’t make sense of what was going on.
After Zhao Xiaolu stormed off, Jiang Rou nudged Han Yuanzhi’s arm and whispered, testing him: “Aren’t you going to chase after her and coax her?”
At once, Han Yuanzhi’s face flushed red, and he stammered: “H-how did you figure that out?”
His relationship with Zhao Xiaolu had been kept secret from the entire factory, yet he hadn’t expected to slip up in front of his own sister.
“Don’t bother with her. Those words were aimed at me—we’re in the middle of breaking up.”
The revelation was huge, and Jiang Rou’s curiosity surged. “Why are you breaking up? From how upset she looked, the problem must be on your side.”
Han Yuanzhi gave her a meaningful look. “She’s her parents’ only daughter. She wants me to marry into her family.”
“…” Jiang Rou scratched her forehead, suddenly at a loss for words.
After all, in that era, being a son-in-law who married into the wife’s family carried a stigma—not everyone was willing to accept it.
Han Yuanzhi sighed. “Sometimes I really admire Shen Chengdong. Can’t you tell me how you two manage your life together?”
“??” Jiang Rou was stunned. Such private matters were out of the question—she flatly told him, “No comment.”
Time slipped by, and soon it was late spring. As summer approached, the temperature steadily rose.
Jiang Rou had already switched to light spring clothes. After work, she went to the transport team to ask about Shen Chengdong’s return. Though late spring had arrived, he still hadn’t come back. The team leader explained that he’d spoken by phone a few days earlier: it had been raining often in Shandong, the roads were bad, and Shen Chengdong would likely be delayed a few more days.
Hearing this, Jiang Rou felt disappointed. Back home, facing the empty house, her loneliness deepened. Chen Ailan had already moved back to her own home, leaving only Jiang Rou and two little chicks. To distract herself, she pulled out the paper boxes she hadn’t worked on in ages and began pasting them, determined to keep busy until sleepiness set in. As night fell, under the dim yellow light, her slender fingers worked tirelessly while the chicks chirped happily around her.
Just then, a knock sounded at the door. Jiang Rou looked up in surprise, confusion flickering in her eyes. So late at night—who could it be?