This was a secret in the Shen household. Shen Wanglin and Miao Yuzhen thought they had hidden it well, but in truth, Shen Chengdong knew everything.
Jiang Rou’s eyes widened. Her first thought was: Such an important plot point—why wasn’t it in the book?
“So how did you find out about your own origins?” She deliberately lowered her voice, cautious and tentative, which only made the man laugh.
At the corner of his lips was the faintest dimple. Jiang Rou longed to poke it, but restrained herself.
Shen Chengdong slowly let his smile fade. For the first time, he told another person his secret.
“The villagers always said I looked nothing like my parents or brothers. My fourth brother and I were supposed to be twins, yet we shared not a trace of resemblance. And Shen First and Shen Second always despised me. As I grew older, the truth wasn’t hard to guess. As for the hospital’s name—I overheard it by chance when I was a child.”
He spoke calmly, as though narrating someone else’s story. Jiang Rou’s eyes softened with pity. She reached for his hand and promised earnestly: “I’ll be good to you, always.”
Afternoon sunlight streamed into the room, bathing her in a halo of golden light, almost sacred.
Shen Chengdong gazed at her steadily. After a long silence, he suddenly pulled her into his arms. Instinctively, Jiang Rou wrapped her arms around his strong waist. It felt like colliding with a wall of bronze and iron—her bones nearly rattled apart. Her cheeks flushed crimson, but she obediently let him hold her, thinking that perhaps this embrace truly could comfort him.
By dinnertime, several dishes were laid out on the dull, gray table. The finest among them was a simple pork soup, the meat a gift brought by Jiang Rou from her family.
The Shen household was not one for many words. Shen Fifth, seated at the table, stole glances at Jiang Rou again and again, hesitant to lift his chopsticks. At fifteen or sixteen, his youthful face carried a trace of shyness. All afternoon he had been in a daze, marveling inwardly: Third Brother actually married a fairy! Her voice is so beautiful—better even than a radio announcer’s!
Shen Chengdong noticed his little brother’s thoughts and gave a soft cough, reminding him, “Eat up before the food gets cold.”
Startled, Shen Fifth quickly withdrew his gaze and dared not look again.
Aside from him, none of the other brothers were present. Jiang Rou nibbled at a coarse cornbread cake, curious about Shen Fourth, the brother who was soon to marry.
As if reading her mind, Shen Chengdong explained, “Fourth Brother went to work in the neighboring village. He’ll probably be back tomorrow night. Next time you come, you’ll meet him.”
The family was in need of money, so Shen Fourth could only work day and night tirelessly to earn enough to marry the girl he longed for.
Jiang Rou had never worried about money growing up, but after that strange dream, she now felt a quiet empathy for those caught in hardship.
The book had said little about the Shen family. All she knew was that later, when Shen Chengdong prospered, he brought his parents and brothers to the city and paid for treatment for his ailing father and fifth brother. Beyond that, nothing was mentioned.
Because the roads were dark and rough, Jiang Rou and Shen Chengdong stayed the night.
The Shen family had only one room, with a long heated brick bed that could sleep several people. Normally, Shen Father and Shen Mother slept on one side, separated by a cloth curtain, while the children slept on the other.
Tonight, the parents gave up their side for Jiang Rou and Shen Chengdong.
Though they shared the same bed, the curtain between them eased the awkwardness.
Jiang Rou had the habit of soaking her feet each night. After walking so far today, her legs felt nearly useless, her whole body weary and sore.
Just as she was debating whether to soak them, Shen Chengdong entered carrying a basin of hot water. He set it by her feet, tested the temperature with his hand, then looked up and said, “It’s not too hot—go ahead and wash.”
His movements were natural, like those of a long-married husband. Jiang Rou bit her lip, gazing down at him, her heart thudding wildly.
Seeing her sit there dazed, he gently removed her leather shoes. When he reached for her pale socks, Jiang Rou suddenly snapped back to herself and quickly pulled her feet away. It was the first time in her life anyone had served her like this, and she felt unaccustomed.
“Mother and Father will be back soon. I can wash myself,” she said hurriedly, bending to slip off her socks. She then placed her tender, white feet into the basin. At once, the heat surged up, painting her cheeks with a rosy flush.
“Go on with your work. When I’m done, I’ll pour the water out myself.”
But the man remained crouched there, his calloused hand gently flicking water across the tops of her feet. “I’ve nothing else to do. I’m not busy.”
Jiang Rou’s toes curled instinctively. The warmth was overwhelming, and she held her breath again, shy yet faintly curious: Would he really wash my feet?
After all, few men would do such a thing. Even her parents, though deeply affectionate, had never seen her father carry a basin for her mother.
At that moment, Shen Chengdong lowered his head and cradled her pale foot, his touch so light it was as though he held a fragile treasure that needed careful protection. His rough hands brought a ticklish sensation as he washed. Jiang Rou couldn’t bear it—her toes shifted slightly in his palm, as if trying to escape.
“Does it feel uncomfortable?” He looked up, asking earnestly.
Jiang Rou met his gaze, nervous, and shook her head. “No… it’s fine. I’d better wash myself.” Her voice was naturally soft, but now it was even gentler, almost melting.
Shen Chengdong tightened his grip on her small foot, a restless fire stirring in his chest. He coughed awkwardly, then finally let go. “I’ll step outside. Call me when you’re finished.”
“Mm, alright~”
In the dim room, Jiang Rou didn’t notice the desire flickering in his eyes. Once he left, she exhaled deeply, thinking: Next time, I mustn’t let him wash my feet again. It tickles too much!
To make her feel at ease, the Shen family stayed out of the room until she had fallen asleep, only then returning to the other side of the curtain.
Before bed, Shen Wanglin spoke at length to Shen Chengdong, reminding him that being a son-in-law was no easy task. Only sincerity could win sincerity, he said, urging him to temper his sharp edges and be a good husband.
Shen Chengdong listened in silence. No one knew what was on his mind.
That night, Jiang Rou slept soundly. When she woke, the curtain outside was quiet. The first thing she saw was the man’s solid chest; her gaze traveled upward to his prominent Adam’s apple and the faint stubble on his chin.
They were wrapped tightly in each other’s arms, like lovers deeply in love. Yet she knew that, for now, Shen Chengdong felt no romance toward her—only the responsibility and duty of a husband. In marriage, that was enough.
“You’re awake?” The man’s low voice sounded above her. Jiang Rou gave a soft “mm” in reply, then lifted her head to look at him, her drowsy eyes carrying a trace of unease.
It had been two days since they last lay together. Though nothing had happened the night before, the air was thick with ambiguity. The closeness of their bodies made her nervous—she feared he might, in broad daylight, lose control.
At that moment, Shen Chengdong also realized what was happening. Before he could shift away, his body betrayed him with a sudden, involuntary twitch.
“…”
Both of them froze, mortified. Neither dared to move; even their breathing grew heavier than before. He was hot; she was hot.
Fortunately, before things spiraled out of control, Miao Yuzhen’s voice came from beyond the curtain, reminding Shen Chengdong that it was nearly seven o’clock. The tension broke instantly. They rose quickly, one after the other. Outside, smoke was already curling from the kitchen fire.
From Wangshui Village to the city, there was only one bus each morning at eight. After breakfast, Miao Yuzhen handed Shen Chengdong a cloth pouch and said to Jiang Rou with a cheerful smile, “Inside are pickles I made. Let your parents try them. If they like them, I’ll make more.”
Jiang Rou thanked her warmly and sincerely invited them to come stay in the city sometime.
Before they left, Shen Fifth shyly offered Jiang Rou a comic book he had treasured for a long time—the only gift he could manage. Jiang Rou accepted with delight and, in return, pulled a handful of White Rabbit candies from her satchel to give him.
Clutching the sweets, Shen Fifth thought to himself: Third Sister-in-law is beautiful and kind. Truly wonderful!
After bidding farewell to the Shen family, Jiang Rou and Shen Chengdong boarded the bus back to the courtyard.
At home, Chen Aihe was still lying on the heated bed, recovering from her injury. Shi Lan and Jiang Deshan had been tending to her all day and night.
Seeing them return, Chen Aihe grasped Jiang Rou’s hand and asked eagerly, “How was your stay? Are your father-in-law and mother-in-law in good health?”
What she really wanted to ask was whether her daughter had been mistreated, but with Shen Chengdong present, she couldn’t say it outright.
Jiang Rou, not one for such delicate thoughts, simply nodded and praised the Shen family warmly—she even mentioned how delicious Shen Mother’s pickles were.
“Mom, there are three jars of pickles. I’d like to give one to First Uncle. Is that alright?”
Chen Aihe frowned. “Why bother? We’ve lived quietly in this courtyard for decades. No need to curry favor with him.”
But Jiang Rou had her own reasoning, so she made up an excuse: “Last time Sister Meng Wen helped mend my clothes. I can’t let her kindness go unrewarded.”
Meng Wen was First Uncle’s daughter, and her family had also taken in a son-in-law. After a moment’s thought, Chen Aihe agreed.
By evening, Jiang Rou carried a jar of pickles to the west wing and knocked. It was First Uncle, Meng Shuge, who opened the door. Seeing her, he paused in surprise. “What is it? Did something happen at home?”
As the courtyard’s chief elder, Meng Shuge was strict but kindhearted, always ready to help when neighbors faced trouble. Jiang Rou held out the jar and said, “This was made by my mother-in-law—it’s delicious. I remember you and Sister Wen love snow cabbage, so I brought some. And thank you to Sister Wen for mending my clothes last time.”
Meng Shuge accepted the pickles, his expression softening. “It was nothing more than a small favor. You really shouldn’t have.”
After a few polite words, Jiang Rou casually asked, “By the way, Uncle, do you remember Han Laosan? He’s my sister’s uncle and also works at the meat plant. He mentioned the factory was allocating housing. Has that already been done?”
Housing distribution at the plant wasn’t a secret. Meng Shuge thought for a moment, recalling who Han Laosan was, then replied, “Yes, the houses were assigned before the New Year. Why? Did something go wrong with his place?”
Not wanting him to misunderstand her gesture, Jiang Rou quickly waved her hand. “No, I was just asking. I won’t keep you.”
When she returned, Chen Aihe seized the chance while Shen Chengdong was outside hauling coal to whisper, “Tell me honestly—did his family treat you poorly? Did they ask you for money?”
She asked because Meng Wen, after marrying into her husband’s family, had suffered such things, and the quarrels had become notorious in the courtyard.
Chen Aihe worried her daughter was too reserved; even if she were mistreated, she might not speak up. As parents, they had to be vigilant.
Jiang Rou gave a helpless smile. “Mom, they’ve all been very kind to me. No one asked for money. You can rest easy. They’re good people, and I hope you’ll trust them more in the future.”
Chen Aihe fell silent for a long while, then dropped the subject.
That night, the four of them squeezed together again on the heated brick bed. Jiang Rou lay close to the wall, listening to her father’s thunderous snores nearby, and thought: When the time comes, I must reclaim that house no matter what!