Seeing that her mother was serious, Jiang Rou felt a little dazed, even flattered. “Mom, it’s not even my birthday yet—why are you treating me so well?”
On the bustling street, Chen Aihe’s nose tingled and her eyes grew red. “Birthday or not, from now on I’ll buy you nice things. Once we get to the department store, we’ll pick the most expensive!”
Such extravagance made Jiang Rou sense something unusual, but she followed her mother into the department store.
Since the sales clerks were about to finish for the day, they headed straight to the clothing section. Only summer wear and light fabrics were on display. After browsing all the ready-made styles, Jiang Rou found nothing she liked.
Chen Aihe pointed to the priciest dress. “What about that one? Why don’t you hold it up against yourself?”
“No need, I don’t like it.”
Thinking her daughter was reluctant to spend money, Chen Aihe patted her pocket. “Mom has money; you don’t need to save for me. When autumn comes, I’ll buy you a wool coat too.”
At the words “wool coat,” Jiang Rou finally understood her mother’s intention. She gave a helpless little laugh but didn’t expose it.
When she was sick as a child, her mother had cared for her night and day. She had never doubted her parents’ love, and she certainly wouldn’t let a wool coat come between them.
“That dress really isn’t my style. I think that floral fabric over there looks nice—made into a dress, it should turn out pretty.”
Following her finger, Chen Aihe looked at the cloth: soft material with tiny red blossoms, perfect for a summer dress.
Seeing her daughter’s delight, Chen Aihe finally gave up on buying ready-made clothes. “Then pick out another piece of fabric. One dress isn’t enough to wear.”
“One is plenty. Don’t you remember? Last summer you bought me two dresses, and I hardly wore them. Besides, Chengdong just bought me a dress when he came back. With all these, I have more than enough. Let’s buy the fabric and head home—I’m starving.”
Just then, the department store’s closing bell rang. Chen Aihe had the clerk cut the fabric quickly and rushed to pay. Outside, she wanted to drag Jiang Rou to the supply shop, but this time Jiang Rou stood firm. “Mom, I don’t lack anything. If you’re so eager to buy me clothes, it’s better to save the money. When I find something I really like, or if I urgently need it, then you can buy it for me.”
Chen Aihe thought it over seriously and agreed, dropping the matter.
There was a tailor right in their courtyard, and the clothes he made were always good. Back home, Jiang Rou brought the fabric over and described the style she wanted.
The tailor listened carefully, wrote down her requests, and charged her for making the dress.
“Oh, by the way, your sister had a dress made here too, but she hasn’t paid yet. Why don’t you cover it for her?”
Jiang Rou pulled back her hand from her purse, smiling sweetly. “She had it made, so you should ask her. I’m not her sister.” With that, she took back her fabric, deciding not to have it made there. It wasn’t anger—she just worried that if Jiang Qiuyu refused to pay, she herself might get dragged into it. After all, once she married, life probably wouldn’t be easy.
The next day, Jiang Rou carried the floral fabric to a tailor’s shop near the machine factory. Once everything was settled, she went to the canteen to ask Han Yuanzhi for a letter, planning to deliver it to the broadcasting room.
Handing her the letter, Han Yuanzhi reminded her earnestly: “Make sure she accepts it. My happiness depends entirely on you.”
“Don’t put so much pressure on me—I can only do my best.” Jiang Rou tucked the letter into her shoulder bag and headed to the broadcasting room.
The broadcasting room of the machine factory was on the second floor of the office building, and the announcer was none other than Zhao Xiaolu. She worked there every day, so she should be in.
Jiang Rou knocked on the door. No response. She knocked harder, and finally a hoarse voice came from inside: “Come in!”
Pushing the door open, she was startled by Zhao Xiaolu’s pale, haggard face. She hurried over. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”
Zhao Xiaolu shook her head, her throat aching too much to speak much. “Cold… miserable… what is it?”
Seeing her in such poor shape, Jiang Rou wasn’t sure she’d even have the energy to read a letter. “My brother asked me to give you this. He hopes you’ll take a look.” She placed the envelope right in front of her.
Zhao Xiaolu frowned at it, then asked weakly, “Can you do me a favor?”
“Go ahead.” Jiang Rou thought she’d ask her to pass on a message, but instead Zhao Xiaolu pointed to the tea canister nearby. “Could you brew me some malva nuts? My throat hurts.”
“Oh, sure.” Jiang Rou took the canister, found the malva nuts as instructed, and brewed a cup.
“Thanks,” Zhao Xiaolu whispered, then gulped down half the water. Her throat eased for a moment, but the pain soon returned, sharper than ever.
She had hoped the malva nuts would help her voice, but clearly they weren’t working.
Watching her suffer, Jiang Rou suggested gently: “Why don’t you go to the clinic and have it checked?”
“I can’t leave right now—I have to broadcast an urgent announcement soon.” She stayed put, waiting for the phone call so she could relay the message.
Jiang Rou didn’t really understand how it all worked, but seeing that Zhao Xiaolu still had important duties, she prepared to head back to the canteen and tell Han Yuanzhi. “Alright, you’re busy. I’ll get back to work.”
“Wait—hold on a second!” Zhao Xiaolu forced the words out, her already hoarse voice tearing painfully.
Jiang Rou stopped, puzzled.
Then Zhao Xiaolu said, “When the message comes through, could you help me broadcast it? I heard your voice at the last gala—it’s good enough. You should be able to manage.”
“This really isn’t something I can do.” Jiang Rou waved her hands frantically, shocked by the request. It was far beyond her abilities.
“For Han Yuanzhi’s sake, please help me. Listen to my voice—I can’t possibly read the news. I’ve already asked someone else to cover, but he hasn’t arrived yet.” Her words came slowly, each syllable costing effort.
Seeing her struggle, Jiang Rou felt reluctant to refuse. “But I don’t know anything about broadcasting—how could I help?”
“It’s fine, I’ll teach you.” She quickly explained a few simple announcing techniques. Just then, the phone rang.
Zhao Xiaolu picked it up at once, jotting notes with her pen at lightning speed.
Watching from the side, Jiang Rou thought she looked incredibly capable.
The news was only sixty or seventy characters long—easy for a professional. If it had been a full-length script, Zhao Xiaolu wouldn’t have dared entrust it to anyone else. She glanced at her watch and told Jiang Rou she had only three minutes to practice before going live.
For the sake of Han Yuanzhi’s happiness, Jiang Rou had no choice but to step up. She scanned the paper quickly, memorizing the gist, then read it again until she had it down perfectly.
“I think I’m ready.”
Zhao Xiaolu raised her brows in surprise, disbelief in her voice. “You memorized the whole thing? When you broadcast, it has to sound natural and smooth—you mustn’t stumble.”
“Mm, I really did memorize it.”
Remembering her outstanding performance at the gala, Zhao Xiaolu no longer doubted her.
Following instructions, Jiang Rou sat down at the microphone. A little nervous at heart, she focused only on the news once Zhao Xiaolu flipped the switch. Using the techniques she’d just been taught, she imitated the announcers on the radio—her tone calm and natural, her enunciation clear and strong. Her very first broadcast already sounded convincing.
Watching from the side, Zhao Xiaolu was startled to realize she had real talent.
Meanwhile, in the canteen, Han Yuanzhi also heard Jiang Rou’s voice. Alarmed that something might go wrong, he rushed toward the broadcasting room.
“Xiaorou, thank you for helping.” After the broadcast, Zhao Xiaolu sincerely thanked her and offered two peaches.
Jiang Rou didn’t take them. Instead, she asked Zhao Xiaolu to accept Han Yuanzhi’s letter, adding that he would be leaving town in just a few days.
Zhao Xiaolu licked her dry lips, her attitude still firm. “If he refuses to marry into our family, then there’s nothing more to say. We’ve only been dating half a year—it’s not worth clinging to.”
Just then, Han Yuanzhi, who had arrived outside, overheard. He shoved the door open, cold fury in his voice. “Zhao Xiaolu, what do you mean by that? Only half a year? My heart’s been fed to the dogs!”
“Who are you calling a dog?”
“You, of course. What of it?”
The atmosphere bristled with hostility. Jiang Rou tugged at Han Yuanzhi’s sleeve, trying to ease the tension. “She’s sick, she’s running a fever—can’t you lower your voice?”
Hearing that she was ill, Han Yuanzhi froze for a moment, then his tone softened, though still sharp. “Did you even go to the hospital? You never know how to take care of yourself. And you think you’re fit to demand a live-in son-in-law?”
“What’s wrong with me? Don’t talk to me—I can’t even speak; my throat hurts.”
Seeing the anger ebb, Jiang Rou quietly slipped out of the broadcasting room, leaving them space to talk alone. On her way back to the canteen, she recalled the broadcast just now and found it rather amusing. Suddenly, the loudspeaker above her crackled with a sharp “zzlaa” sound.
Soon, Han Yuanzhi’s voice rang out, firm and resonant: “Zhao Xiaolu, you won’t read the letter I wrote? Fine, I’ll read it aloud. If you’ve got the guts, just block your ears.”
“Han Yuanzhi, stop acting crazy! If our colleagues hear this, it’ll be terrible.”
Clearly, neither of them realized the broadcast switch had been accidentally left on.
Not only Jiang Rou, but everyone nearby wore the same stunned expression. Once she grasped what was happening, she dashed toward the broadcast room, hoping she could salvage the situation.
Unfortunately, Han Yuanzhi spoke at lightning speed. In just a few minutes, his heartfelt letter laid bare the entire story for the crowd of gossip-hungry listeners. So, the head chef and the factory beauty had been together for half a year?! Good heavens—she wanted him to be a live-in son-in-law, and he refused? If it were me, I’d definitely think twice before deciding. What’s their situation now—breaking up? And how did they even get together? They hid it well!
By the time Jiang Rou reached the broadcast room, Han Yuanzhi had finished reading. Zhao Xiaolu’s eyes were red, and he was gently coaxing her. Just as the two were about to kiss, Jiang Rou rushed forward, clamped a hand over Han Yuanzhi’s mouth, and frantically signaled Zhao Xiaolu toward the microphone.
“…” Zhao Xiaolu snapped back to reality, her whole body stiffening. She quickly flipped the switch off, her face flushed with fury.
“Han Yuanzhi, this is all your fault! Now the entire factory knows about us!”
Han Yuanzhi hadn’t expected things to spiral like this. After a moment’s thought, he made up his mind: “Becoming a live-in son-in-law is impossible—my mother would be furious. But how about this: I’ll stay at your house on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, at mine on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, and on holidays both families celebrate together. Would that work?”
Zhao Xiaolu bit her lip, not hung up on that detail. “If we marry, one child must take my father’s surname. If you agree, we can reconcile.”
In this era, most men carried a streak of chauvinism, and she knew few would accept their child not bearing their own surname. That was why she had pressed for a son-in-law.
Han Yuanzhi let out a bitter laugh. “So this is the reason you insist I marry into your family? And even threaten to break up over it?”
“Yes. My father isn’t my biological father, but he gave up having children of his own so I could feel secure in this home. That’s why I want a child to carry his name.”
“Alright, I’ll agree! No matter how many children we have, they can all take your surname.”
After all, he had two brothers—one less child carrying his name wouldn’t matter.
Zhao Xiaolu stared at him in astonishment. She had never imagined that the issue troubling her for so long could be resolved so easily.
“Turn the broadcast back on. I have something to say.”
“What are you doing? Don’t make trouble.”
“Relax, it’s not trouble—it’s good news.”
Han Yuanzhi stepped up to the microphone. Once the switch was flipped on, his voice carried through the loudspeakers: “Sorry for making everyone laugh just now. I, Han Yuanzhi, and Zhao Xiaolu are engaged to be married. We’ll hold the wedding before National Day, and you’re all invited to share our wedding candies!”
By the time he finished, Zhao Xiaolu’s face was flushed crimson. Gone was her earlier fierceness; her gaze toward Han Yuanzhi was now tender and affectionate.
Thus the farce came to an end. Though they were indeed engaged, the factory leaders still gave them a stern reprimand and ordered them to write a thousand-word self-criticism, posted publicly on the factory’s bulletin board.
News of Han Yuanzhi’s marriage hit Chen Ailan the hardest. She went to complain to Chen Aihe, lamenting that once a son grows up, he no longer belongs to his mother—and she was the last to know.
“I heard from Xiaorou that the girl is quite nice, even the factory beauty. Given the situation, it made sense for Yuanzhi to announce the marriage then. What else could he do? He was protecting her reputation. That shows he’s a responsible man.”
Chen Ailan could understand, though she wasn’t ready to accept it so quickly.
“On Sunday, that girl and her parents are coming over for dinner. You and Deshan should come too. With more relatives present, it’ll show proper respect to the bride’s family.”
“Alright, no problem!”
The two were chatting happily when Jiang Qiuyu arrived.
Chen Ailan pursed her lips, found an excuse, and left.
Seeing that there were no outsiders in the room, Jiang Qiuyu gathered her thoughts and said, “Mom, I’m about to marry Zhong Fang, but right now we don’t even have a place to live. Could you give me the dowry money first? I want to find a house.”
“Why doesn’t he pay? Did he send you to ask for money?”
“Of course not. I just want to help him.” Jiang Qiuyu deliberately stroked her belly, looking pitiful.
Chen Aihe noticed the gesture and replied coolly, “In our courtyard, when a daughter marries, the family prepares two new quilts and at most adds five yuan as dowry. Your father and I discussed it—we’ll give you ten yuan. I’ll fetch it now.”
“Ten yuan?” Jiang Qiuyu exclaimed. That was far below the amount she had imagined.
“Didn’t you say you wanted me to marry with dignity?”
“There’s no wedding banquet. How am I supposed to make it dignified?”
Jiang Qiuyu was left speechless, realizing her mother’s attitude had shifted. “Mom, are you angry with me about something? Or do you look down on me too—just because I have no parents, and now even my in-laws despise me?”
At this accusation, Chen Aihe frowned deeply. “You say you have no parents—then what have your father, Jiang Deshan, and I been all these years? Were we just money trees so you could buy wool coats?”
Jiang Qiuyu’s face went pale, her eyes filled only with shock.
Sunday dawned bright and clear. Today was the day the Han and Zhao families were to meet. As both a witness to their love and a member of the groom’s family, Jiang Rou put on a newly bought long dress and waited early at the alley entrance to welcome the Zhao family.
Shen Chengdong accompanied her, his gaze lingering on her again and again, reluctant to look away.
Flustered under his stare, Jiang Rou blushed and asked, “Why do you keep looking at me? I’m not some enchantress.”
“You’re prettier than any enchantress.”
“…”
His compliment was so unexpectedly fresh and earnest that Jiang Rou almost wanted to punch him playfully. But before she could, the Zhao family had already approached. Zhao Xiaolu spotted Jiang Rou and greeted her with a smile.
Given their new relationship, Jiang Rou now addressed her as “Second Sister-in-law.”
At that moment, the woman walking on the right side suddenly asked Zhao Xiaolu, “So this is the girl you once mentioned—the one with such a gifted voice?”