She had to summon all her courage before speaking, and just as expected, everyone looked utterly shocked. Han Laoshan even gaped for a long while before blurting out, “Xiao Rou, hasn’t your uncle always treated you well? Your mother already agreed—how can you go back on your word now?”
Under the weight of everyone’s stares, Jiang Rou recited the reason she had agonized over all night. “Lately, I keep dreaming of Grandpa. He says that whenever he comes home and sees someone else living in the house instead of me, he gets furious. He also warns that the house is on the verge of great upheaval, and urges me to move in quickly to suppress it. I really have no other choice…”
Though it sounded like feudal superstition, Han Laoshan believed it completely. He was secretly devoted to incense-burning and fortune-telling, deeply pious, and now, hearing this, broke out in a cold sweat.
After all, a guilty heart fears ghosts knocking at the door.
His wife, seeing his reaction, quickly cut in: “Xiao Rou, your uncle is timid—he can’t stand being frightened like this! If you want us to move out sooner, just say so. Don’t make up such nonsense!”
Chen Aihe, fiercely protective of her own, despised this ungrateful attitude. Her temper, which had just cooled, flared up again. “True or not, this house belongs to Xiao Rou, so of course she has the final say. And besides, when our old master was alive, everyone respected him. His will is our will. You’d better vacate the house in seven days. If you really can’t find a place to stay, there are empty rooms in our courtyard currently for rent.”
“You—!” Han Laoshan’s wife was about to unleash a tirade, but her husband stopped her just in time.
“Fine. We’ll move out in seven days. You can come collect the house then.”
Inwardly, he thought: the longer we can stall, the better. He still needed to discuss countermeasures with Jiang Qiuyu.
Seeing the matter settled, Chen Aihe’s expression softened. Jiang Rou, however, only let out a breath of relief—without the slightest trace of joy.
After leaving the courtyard, Chen Aihe glanced around cautiously, then whispered, “That dream of your grandpa, was it really true?”
Jiang Rou fluttered her lashes and, in the end, did not tell the truth. “Mm. Grandpa keeps appearing in my dreams.”
She had never lied before, so Chen Aihe believed her completely.
“Ah, then it must be that the old master misses you. He doted on you most when he was alive.”
“Yes. I miss him too.”
That was why she had to protect this house!
*
By evening, Jiang Deshan returned carrying a pound of pork. As soon as he entered, he asked, “Well? Did Han Laoshan say when they’ll move out?”
Seeing the meat in his hands, Chen Aihe’s eyes lit up. Forgetting to answer, she snatched it away and scolded, “What are you thinking? Do you want us to go broke? It’s only the beginning of the month, and you’re already wasting money!”
Handing her the meat, Jiang Deshan’s square face broke into a smile. “Did you forget? Tomorrow is the third-day homecoming. Xiao Rou has to visit her husband’s family. How could she show up empty-handed?”
Because of the house dispute, Chen Aihe had completely forgotten about the “third-day homecoming.” Now reminded, she panicked. “What should we do? I haven’t prepared anything at all!”
Jiang Deshan, however, remained calm. “Don’t we still have two bottles of liquor and a box of rice cakes at home? Take those along, and pack some cornmeal too. That should be enough.”
With his arrangement, Chen Aihe finally stopped panicking. “All right, I’ll get everything ready in a bit.”
At that moment, Jiang Deshan pulled a small butterfly hairpin from his jacket pocket and slipped it into her hand, speaking awkwardly: “I passed by the supply and marketing cooperative today and saw this—it looked nice. I thought our Xiao Rou would look beautiful wearing it. Could you give it to her for me?”
Chen Aihe looked down at the little gift and teased with a smile: “Honestly, every time you buy hairpins or snacks for your daughter, you insist on passing them through me. Why not just give them to her yourself? What’s there to be embarrassed about?”
Jiang Deshan chuckled softly without replying, instead steering the conversation back to the house.
After Chen Aihe recounted the day’s confrontation, his face darkened in disbelief. “You mean they didn’t want to vacate at first? That can’t be right. Han Laoshan isn’t that kind of person.”
“He is exactly that kind of person! Always grinning in front of others, but deep down he’s nothing like that. He claims he’s afraid of his wife, but for all we know he’s been using her as a shield all along! If you ask me, they’re both ingrates. I’ve never liked the two of them—you’re the only one who ever thought they were decent.”
The memories of the past were still vivid. If not for Jiang Qiuyu being alone without family, Jiang Deshan would never have gone to such lengths to help. Now, their attitude was truly chilling…
*
The next day was the “third-day homecoming.”
Jiang Rou dressed in the red jacket she had worn on her wedding day, her hair braided into two plaits. She admired her reflection, quite satisfied with her appearance. Still, she wanted to wear the butterfly hairpin, but after trying it in several spots, she couldn’t decide where it looked best.
Only she and Shen Chengdong were in the room, so she turned and asked, “Where do you think I should wear it? Could you hold up the mirror for me?”
Shen Chengdong was sweeping the floor. At the sound of her voice, he looked up—and met her luminous eyes, shy yet tender, brimming with unspoken emotion, lingering and entwined. His throat tightened, and he quickly set down the broom to walk over. Seeing both a large and small mirror on the table, he hesitated.
When he still hadn’t moved, Jiang Rou picked up the smaller mirror and handed it to him, her voice soft: “Just hold it so I can see the back of my hair. Mm… sorry to trouble you.”
Her faint fragrance reached him, and in a low voice he murmured, “All right.”
Her delicate hand held the red butterfly, pausing again and again against her dark hair, only to give up each time. At last, her arm grew tired, and she lowered it to rest.
Morning sunlight streamed into the room, casting a radiant glow over her.
As he gazed at her slender, pale nape, Shen Chengdong leaned closer unconsciously. He took the butterfly from her hand, his fingertips brushing hers, leaving a faint ticklish sensation.
“Why don’t I try?”
“Mm… okay.” Jiang Rou’s cheeks flushed as she stole a glance at him through the mirror. No matter how she looked, he seemed impossibly handsome.
Back when the match was first arranged, Jiang Rou hadn’t taken a liking to Shen Chengdong. Her elder sister often said that when choosing a husband, one must avoid men who are too tall and handsome, or from families too well-off. Tall men, she claimed, were prone to beating their wives. Handsome men or those with good family backgrounds were the most likely to flirt and stray.
In the end, it was Shen Chengdong’s cooking skills that unexpectedly won Jiang Rou’s heart—for she was not only greedy for good food, but also hopeless in the kitchen herself, always on the verge of burning it down.
“Do you think it looks good here?”
While she was lost in thought, the man had already found the perfect spot for the butterfly hairpin. Jiang Rou tilted her head in the mirror, and it seemed just right—exactly to her liking. She was about to thank him when a sudden cry rang out from outside, followed by Chen Aihe’s furious scolding: “Which little rascal left marbles at my doorstep?! I’ve taken a nasty fall—if I find out who it was, I’ll string him up and thrash him!”
Startled, Jiang Rou and Shen Chengdong rushed out, only to see Chen Aihe sitting on the ground, her face pale.
“Mom, where did you hurt yourself? Can you stand?” Jiang Rou bent down to support her arm, afraid to move her too much in case of a serious injury.
Shen Chengdong frowned, crouched beside her, and gently pressed her ankles. The pain made Chen Aihe gasp sharply.
“No, no—it hurts too much! My left foot feels twisted, and my waist aches terribly. I can’t get up at all!”
Jiang Rou panicked, but Shen Chengdong remained steady. He told her to fetch Doctor Wu from the front courtyard while he carefully helped Chen Aihe up.
The commotion drew many neighbors, who quickly gathered to assist. With everyone’s help, they finally brought Chen Aihe back inside.
Once she was lying on the heated brick bed, Shen Chengdong fetched a basin of cold water, soaked a towel, and applied it to her injured ankle. His movements were practiced and efficient, which made Chen Aihe curious—how did he know all this?
Could it be experience from fighting in the past? She couldn’t help thinking so, for Shen Chengdong’s fierce appearance made him look like someone not easily crossed. That was another reason she had once resisted taking him as a son-in-law. Her suspicion slipped out as a question.
Shen Chengdong froze for a moment, then answered honestly: “My neighbor was a doctor. I learned a bit from him growing up.” In truth, that neighbor had only treated animals, but Shen Chengdong left that part unsaid, not wanting to disgust her.
Chen Aihe was surprised, and her scrutinizing gaze softened. “Lucky you were here. Thank you.”
Sensing her goodwill, Shen Chengdong’s lips curved into the faintest smile.
Not long after, Jiang Rou returned with Doctor Wu. After examining her, he confirmed that her ankle was sprained, though her waist was fine. Overall, it wasn’t serious—she would recover in a few days.
Suddenly remembering the cause of her fall, Chen Aihe urged Jiang Rou: “Your sister just called. Go to the alley entrance and return the call—she’s waiting.”
In those days, phone calls were expensive, charged both ways. Usually Jiang Qiuyu sent telegrams or letters; only when she needed money or ration tickets did she bother to call.
“You fell because of her?” Jiang Rou asked, frowning slightly.
Chen Aihe muttered evasively, “I was just in a hurry. Go on quickly.”
Pressed by her mother, Jiang Rou had no choice but to run to Granny Zhou’s house at the alley entrance. Granny Zhou was the neighborhood’s public phone agent, nicknamed “Zhou the Newswire,” because she always knew everything, big or small.
Just as she stepped inside, Granny Zhou was saying into the receiver: “No one from your family has come yet. Hang up and wait a little longer.”
Guessing that it might be Jiang Qiuyu on the other end, Jiang Rou hurried forward. “Is it my sister?”
Granny Zhou nodded and handed her the receiver.
“Hello, it’s me.”
It was the first time they had spoken since the wedding, and Jiang Rou felt inexplicably uneasy. Even her tone carried a faint, almost imperceptible distance. Thinking of the fate of the parents in the book, she simply couldn’t feign warmth.
“Xiao Rou, is that you?” The voice on the other end was gentle, like a spring breeze.
“Mm. What is it?” Jiang Rou wound the telephone cord around her finger, loop after loop, never stopping.
Already used to her taciturn nature, Jiang Qiuyu glanced at her watch and got straight to the point. “Yesterday my uncle called the production team. He said you told him to vacate the house in six days. Is that true?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Jiang Qiuyu hadn’t expected such a blunt answer. She paused, then asked again: “Can’t you give them a little more time? It’s so sudden—where are they supposed to go?”
Jiang Rou listened in silence, waves of disappointment rising in her heart.
Seeing that she hadn’t replied, Jiang Qiuyu checked her watch again, worried about the cost of the call. “At least say something—do you agree or not? Or call Mom over; I’ll talk to her.”
Slowly unwinding the cord from her fingers, Jiang Rou’s voice was soft but firm: “I don’t agree. That house is mine. Even if you call Mom, it won’t change anything.”