The shop clerk glanced at them, face stern, took the money, and weighed out another pound of milk candies.
Just as Jiang Rou reached for the sweets, the man behind her moved faster, stretching out his arm to tuck the candies into his cloth bag.
To onlookers, the two seemed pressed so close that it looked as though he was embracing her from behind. Feeling the heat radiating from his chest, Jiang Rou’s mind filled with images far too unsuitable for children. She bit her lip tightly, frozen in place, until the man carried the candies away and returned to his spot. Only then did she dare to breathe normally again.
On the way back, Jiang Rou stayed silent. Shen Chengdong pedaled the bicycle so slowly that even the donkey carts overtook them. Suddenly, he spoke: “I don’t think I’ll keep working at the repair shop. In a few days, I want to find something else with Liu Er.”
He was already twenty-two. He couldn’t go on like this forever—unable even to afford a piece of candy.
Jiang Rou snapped back to herself, remembering a part of the book’s plot: Shen Chengdong crippled his leg from shady dealings. She instantly jumped off the back seat, alarmed. “No! I know what Liu Er’s up to outside. You can’t follow him!”
Her little face tightened, cold at first glance, yet her clear eyes brimmed with girlish charm. Shen Chengdong halted, long legs steadying the bicycle. Meeting her gaze, his calm heart rippled. Awkwardly, he coughed, ears reddening, and coaxed softly: “Alright, I’ll listen to you. Come back up.”
Seeing him so obedient, Jiang Rou couldn’t help but smile, dimples blooming sweetly. Shen Chengdong quickly looked away, not daring to linger. Facing the wind, he sped up again, though deep inside, the desire to earn money still burned. As long as no one found out…
By the time they returned to the courtyard, it was already mid-afternoon.
Jiang Rou handed Chen Aihe the orange candies, along with several White Rabbits. Chen Aihe, long accustomed to her daughter’s fondness for little treats, asked nothing. That evening, when all the households were back from work, she carried the cloth bag of sweets and led her daughter and son-in-law door to door to distribute them.
In the middle yard, aside from the Jiang family, there were three other households.
One belonged to the Mengs. Old Meng was the courtyard’s chief elder, respectfully called “First Uncle.”
Privately, Chen Aihe liked to call him “Pig Boss.”
The nickname came from his position as director at the meat factory, where he wielded considerable power. A widower, he was pursued by many widows, with matchmakers visiting every few days—much to the envy of the local bachelors. Yet he never remarried, raising his daughter alone. Like the Jiangs, he also took in a son-in-law.
In recent years, however, that son-in-law had grown increasingly arrogant with his job at the Revolutionary Committee, often staying away from home. Even Old Meng couldn’t rein him in.
Chen Aihe’s reluctance to take in a son-in-law back then had partly stemmed from this very fear—that she might end up raising an ungrateful wolf like him.
Beyond the middle courtyard, there were nine more households in the front and back yards.
Chen Aihe treated everyone equally, delivering sweets door to door while carefully introducing Shen Chengdong to each family and pointing out what he should be mindful of.
Jiang Rou listened quietly at her side, her mind replaying fragments of the courtyard’s storyline. The details weren’t many, but compared to now, the changes were enormous. And she herself was nothing more than a foolish foil, the most tragic fate in the entire courtyard. At the thought, her gaze dropped to the ground, a hollow ache stirring deep inside.
Suddenly, a White Rabbit candy appeared in her line of sight. She lifted her head with it, only to see Shen Chengdong staring at her, lips pressed tight. He looked fierce, as though ready to strike someone.
Jiang Rou sighed helplessly, reached out without thinking, and gently pushed up the corners of his mouth with her fingertips. In a soft, coaxing tone, she teased, “Look at you, always so stern. Wouldn’t it be better to smile more?”
The chill of her touch darkened his eyes, stirring an urge to warm her fingers. He raised his arm, calloused palm closing around her hand, tightening slightly as his lips parted: “Are you cold? I’ll fetch you a coat.”
“No need, I’m not cold. Let’s just wait a bit,” Jiang Rou murmured shyly, withdrawing her hand and hiding it behind her back. Her fingers curled, no longer icy.
Meanwhile, Chen Aihe was busy chatting with neighbors, oblivious to their small exchange.
By the time they finished handing out the last batch of wedding candies, Jiang Rou’s father, Jiang Deshan, returned with a mountain of luggage, accompanied by Shi Lan and her daughter. He parked the bicycle at the door, but before he could say a word, Shen Chengdong was already there, helping to unload the bags.
“It’s a good day today. Let’s add a fried egg to supper. I’ll wash my face first,” Jiang Deshan announced, walking off without a glance at the pile of luggage Shen Chengdong now had to carry alone.
Shi Lan, feeling guilty, moved to help, but Shen Chengdong stopped her in time: “Sister-in-law, this is men’s work. Take the child inside.”
“Well, alright. Thank you, brother-in-law.”
From a distance, Jiang Rou watched until he had carried everything inside. Then she approached, pulled a clean handkerchief from her pocket, and rose on tiptoe to wipe the fine sweat from his brow.
“You’ve worked hard. Let’s go in and eat.” Her eyes shimmered with tenderness, and Shen Chengdong, looking down at her, felt his throat tighten involuntarily.
In those days, with little entertainment, families went to bed early after supper.
Jiang Rou lay beside Chen Aihe, ears pricked, listening for sounds from Shen Chengdong’s side. Four of them shared the same heated brick bed, naturally separated as they slept.
“Why are you wearing a high-neck shirt? Isn’t it hot to sleep in?” Chen Aihe suddenly turned to face her, eyes sharp even in the dark.
Thinking of the marks on her skin, Jiang Rou blushed and whispered, “Not hot.”
“Go to sleep quickly. Tomorrow we still have to ask for the house.”
“Mm, alright.”
At the mention of the house, Jiang Rou stared blankly at the ceiling, her thoughts drifting far away.
In the book, Grandfather’s house was dragged out again and again by Han Laosan, who refused to return it until Jiang Qiuyu came back to the city. Only then did he reluctantly move out.
Because Jiang Qiuyu reclaimed the house, and she had just returned to the city with nowhere to live, Jiang Rou had no choice but to let her stay there temporarily. But that “temporary” lasted a lifetime…
The next morning, Jiang Rou and Shen Chengdong followed behind Chen Aihe to the west end of the alley, arriving at a courtyard with two entrances and two exits. Only six households lived there.
Among the households, one belonged to Han Laosan’s family.
Carrying the cloth bag of candies, Chen Aihe headed straight for their home.
Morning smoke curled above the courtyard kitchens. Han Laosan was crouched on the steps, brushing his teeth. Seeing Chen Aihe, he quickly stopped, gulped water, spat it onto the ground, then stood up with a broad smile: “Sister-in-law, what brings you so early? Something urgent?”
He ushered them warmly inside.
“I came not only to bring you wedding candies,” Chen Aihe said, “but also to talk about the house. Is your wife home?”
At the mention of the house, Han Laosan’s heart skipped, though his face stayed calm. “She went to the alley entrance to buy soy milk. She’ll be back soon. Why don’t you tell me what it’s about first?”
Knowing decisions here weren’t his alone, Chen Aihe chose to wait.
Jiang Rou followed the others into the room, quietly taking in the surroundings. The thirty-square-meter space was spotless, furnished with sturdy pearwood pieces. This was the house her grandfather had left her—yet in the book, she had failed to keep it.
Chen Aihe sat down cheerfully. “You’ve kept this place so well. If it had been rented to someone else, who knows how badly they’d have ruined it.”
Han Laosan gave a sheepish smile and quickly offered her tea. “When we first came from the countryside, we had nowhere to stay. If not for you and Brother Jiang’s kindness, we’d have starved. My wife and I have always been grateful.”
Inevitably, this brought up someone: Han Laosan’s niece, Jiang Qiuyu—Chen Aihe’s foster daughter.
Fifteen years ago, Jiang Qiuyu’s father died in an accident. The following year, her mother abandoned her and vanished. Since then, she had been adopted into Jiang Deshan’s household.
At the time, Han Laosan hadn’t known his sister had run away. He had only managed to survive in the countryside, then secretly brought his family to the city. When he arrived in Beijing, he discovered his only sister was gone. With nowhere else to turn, he sought help from Jiang Deshan, which allowed him to settle in the city.
Those old stories mattered little to Chen Aihe now. Her mind was fixed on reclaiming the house.
“Didn’t you say your work unit was about to allocate housing? How’s that going?”
Just then, the door swung open.
His wife entered, carrying a large enamel mug. Sharp brows, narrow eyes—she didn’t look easy to deal with.
“What housing? That’s all nonsense!”
Chen Aihe’s smile faded slightly. “Good timing, sister. We were just talking about the house. That’s why I came.”
The woman set the mug down and sat opposite her, grinning. “What house? Speak plainly. No need for politeness.”
Chen Aihe explained the family’s difficulties, hinting that they hoped the couple would vacate soon.
The woman’s face darkened. “Sister-in-law, are you saying the rent we pay each year is too little?”
“If I thought the rent too low, I’d never have rented to you. Surely you know the market price outside?” Chen Aihe snapped, standing with hands on hips, ready for a fight.
Han Laosan rushed to smooth things over, laughing nervously, urging her not to quarrel with his wife.
But Chen Aihe’s face stayed stern. “My husband is kind, never fussing over money. But don’t take advantage of that kindness, thinking we can’t count!”
The air grew tense. Han Laosan scratched his head, finally offering: “Sister-in-law, don’t be angry. You’re my benefactor. I won’t cling here. How about this—we’ll move out on the first of next month. Will that do?”
It was only the beginning of the month—over twenty days away. His sincerity made Chen Aihe hesitate, then she slowly eased her stance. “Alright then. The first of next month. I’ll tell Brother Jiang.”
Han Laosan was just about to thank her when Jiang Rou, silent until now, suddenly spoke: “Uncle, I can’t wait that long. Please vacate the house within seven days.”