In the novel, after Jiang Qiuyu moved into the house, she once clashed with Han Laosan. The dispute began when Han Laosan’s wife secretly took away the mantel clock from the house. After much arguing, Jiang Qiuyu finally managed to get the clock back.
Jiang Rou didn’t want something like that to happen to her as well. She felt it would be best to check everything carefully when reclaiming the house. She had intended to bring it up, but unexpectedly, the other side had the same idea.
At that moment, Han Laosan froze, smacked his lips, and felt rather uncomfortable. “Well, fine then. Let’s get a sheet of paper and make a list of everything in the house.”
The house, including both inner and outer rooms, was just over thirty square meters, so the items inside were easy to see at a glance.
Han Laosan took out a pen and paper and began recording each item with them. The more he wrote, the more depressed he became, until he couldn’t help but mutter sarcastically: “Sister-in-law, I’ve noticed that after Xiao Rou got married, she’s like a different person. That son-in-law of yours is really something.”
His meaning was obvious to anyone with half a brain. Chen Aihe frowned, clearly displeased. “How has my Xiao Rou changed? Why don’t you spell it out? Don’t speak half and hide half—that kind of behavior is just like your sister’s.”
Back then, her relationship with Han Laosan’s sister—Jiang Qiuyu’s mother—hadn’t been very good. If not for the fact that Jiang Qiuyu was so young and pitiful after losing her parents, Chen Aihe would never have lent the house to Han Laosan for free. And now, after taking advantage of her kindness, he even dared to sow discord. Did he really think she couldn’t see through it?
Han Laosan’s face darkened at being rebuked, and he quickened the pace of the inventory. Inwardly, he thought it would be best to hand this haunted house back as soon as possible—how could they dare live in a place so heavy with yin energy? Their misfortune was yet to come!
Once the outer room was checked, they moved on to the inner room.
The inner room was the sleeping quarters, rarely entered. Unlike the neat and tidy outer room, the inside looked like a junkyard, with piles of clutter in the corners and a thick layer of dust covering the furniture, as though it hadn’t been wiped in ages. Worse still, the once-sturdy double bed was nearly falling apart. The walls were grimy, as if stained by smoke.
Seeing this, Chen Aihe’s heart clenched. Hands on her hips, she scolded: “You two really put on one face in front and another behind! Look at how you’ve ruined this house—how is anyone supposed to live here?”
If she had known they didn’t know how to cherish it, she would have reclaimed the house long ago! No wonder the old man kept appearing in her dreams—if it were her, she’d be furious enough to come back too!
Knowing he was in the wrong, Han Laosan gave a sheepish smile. “Sister-in-law, don’t be angry. It’s all my lazy wife’s fault. She was seriously ill not long ago, so the inner room got a bit messy…”
“Messy? Just messy? Look at those walls! And that bed! What, do you two spend all day making babies on it? How else could you wreck it like this?”
Han Laosan’s ears burned red as he scratched his head, silently blaming his youngest son’s mischief, yet now he was the one being scolded to his face. Besides, the bed was only a little broken—was that really worth such a tantrum? But with his eldest son about to be sent down to the countryside, job prospects uncertain, and the likelihood of needing Jiang Deshan’s help in the future, he swallowed his resentment and kept smiling. “Please calm down. I’ll fix the bed another day, all right?”
Watching all this, Jiang Rou was shocked at how the house had deteriorated. Her eyes flickered with pain, and her expression hardened.
“Uncle Han, don’t bother fixing the bed. I remember there was a mantel clock in the outer room—that was my grandfather’s before he passed. Where is it now?”
Han Laosan blinked and stammered: “Well, we did have a clock, but it broke, so your aunt threw it away.”
Clocks were expensive in those days—ordinary people repaired them, not discarded them. Jiang Rou fell silent for a moment, then said: “If it was thrown away, then please compensate me for the clock, as well as the broken hat stand and the bed repairs. These things were lent to you for free, but if they’re damaged, you must pay for them. You don’t object, do you?”
Chen Aihe was equally furious. She had never imagined that the house she had kindly lent out would be left in such a state. “Yes, and the bed repairs too! You’re no carpenter—how could you fix it? Hand over the money, we’ll find someone ourselves!”
“….” Han Laosan wiped the sweat from his forehead. He had no desire to part with that money. His mind raced, and he regretted ever suggesting they make an inventory. He had only meant it politely—who would have thought they’d take it so seriously?
To avoid paying, he quickly tried to cover his tracks: “Ah, I must have remembered wrong. The clock wasn’t thrown away—my wife took it to be repaired.”
Chen Aihe had already lost her patience. With a wave of her hand, she cut off any chance for him to argue. “Hand over the money first. When the mantel clock is repaired and returned, I’ll give the money back. That’s settled!”
Everyone in this two‑courtyard siheyuan was an old neighbor, and they all knew the history. Han Laosan didn’t dare refuse—if it turned into a scene, he’d only lose face.
Soon, both sides reached an agreement and signed their names on the document.
Han Laosan pulled thirty yuan from his satchel, his heart aching as he handed it over. “Sister‑in‑law, take this for now. I’ll bring the clock back tomorrow.”
The market price of a mantel clock was around fifty yuan. Counting depreciation, plus the bed repairs and the broken hat stand, thirty yuan wasn’t much. Chen Aihe accepted the money, her expression still cold.
“Fine. When you bring the clock back, I’ll return twenty‑five.”
After that, Han Laosan handed over the keys, carried out all his belongings, and even borrowed a handcart from a neighbor in the courtyard.
Everyone had already heard about the Jiang family reclaiming the house. A curious neighbor came over to ask, “So, Han Laosan is moving out? Who’ll be living here now?”
For her daughter’s sake, Chen Aihe patiently explained each question.
Back when the old master of the Jiang family was alive, Jiang Rou often came to play in this courtyard. The neighbors remembered her most vividly as being so beautiful she hardly seemed real—there were few girls in all of Beijing as striking as she. They also recalled her quiet nature: she rarely spoke, but was always polite.
Hearing she would be moving in, some neighbors were delighted. “That’s great! You don’t know how Han Laosan and his wife quarreled day after day—it gave us headaches. We’ve long wished they’d move out!”
“Exactly! They were the most troublesome couple. By the way, when are you moving in? Do you need our help?”
While Chen Aihe chatted with the neighbors, Jiang Rou quietly returned to the room, scanning every corner once more. She had thought a simple cleaning would make the house livable, but now it was clear it would take several days of work before they could move in. From her satchel she pulled out paper and pen, listing everything that needed repairing or replacing. She only put the sheet away when Chen Aihe came back inside.
“The neighbors here are good people,” Chen Aihe told her. “You must get along with them. And if anyone bullies you, tell the family right away.”
“Mm, I will.”
Seeing her only nodding gloomily, Chen Aihe knew she couldn’t be completely at ease. But there are times when one has to learn to let go.
“Ride your bicycle home first. I’ll go sit with your aunt for a while.”
Just now, worried that Han Laosan might think they were bullying him with numbers, Chen Ailan had stayed outside in the courtyard, ready to rush in if tempers flared. In the end, she never got the chance.
After everyone dispersed, Jiang Rou locked the door and went to the repair shop.
An old man was sitting on a stool, legs crossed, sipping tea leisurely. Beside him, Shen Chengdong crouched low, head bent as he patched a customer’s tire. Years of labor had left his hands rough, but his long fingers moved deftly, quick and precise.
Ten minutes later, Jiang Rou parked her bicycle by the roadside. She greeted the old man first: “Hello, Master. I’m looking for Shen Chengdong.”
The old man had never seen her before. Struck by her beauty and poise, he immediately uncrossed his legs and smiled. “What do you want with him? Need your bicycle fixed?”
In his mind, Shen Chengdong was just a poor country fellow. Handsome or not, he couldn’t imagine such a man deserving a wife this lovely.
At that moment, Shen Chengdong lifted his head at the sound of her voice. The instant he saw Jiang Rou, a faint smile softened his otherwise cold eyes—like winter snow slowly melting. He introduced her to the old man: “She’s my wife. She came to see me.”
“….” The old man’s eyes widened. He looked from Shen Chengdong to Jiang Rou, still incredulous. “This is the bride you just married?”
“Yes.” Shen Chengdong was long used to such reactions and paid them little mind. He turned to Jiang Rou, lips curved in a smile. “Wait just a moment. I’ll be finished soon.”
Jiang Rou glanced at the tire in his hands, afraid of disturbing his work, and obediently stood aside like an invisible shadow. While waiting, she stole glances at him: broad shoulders, straight legs, skin a little dark, but with a pair of peach‑blossom eyes that were strikingly alluring. His nose was high, his Adam’s apple well‑shaped, and with his sleeves rolled up, the strong muscles of his arms gave him a rugged charm. Yes—men absorbed in their work are especially handsome.
Under her gaze, Shen Chengdong quickly finished repairing the tire. He wiped his dirty hands with a rag, then noticed her cheeks flushed pink from the cold.
He almost reached out to warm her face, but hesitated, pulling his hand back. Instead, he shifted to block the wind. “I’ve got hot water here. Want some?”
Jiang Rou didn’t feel cold. She shook her head, joy lighting up her face, her eyes sparkling like stars.
“The house is ours again. Tomorrow morning, let’s go take a look together.”
Shen Chengdong had already heard the news from Liu Er. Feeling her happiness, he longed to ruffle her hair, but his hands were still stained with chain oil that even the rag couldn’t clean.
Just then, Jiang Rou reached out and took his hand. The chill of her touch made his heart tremble.
“My hands are a little cold—warm them for me.” Her eyes held nothing but his reflection.
Shen Chengdong’s Adam’s apple shifted as he swallowed. With a sudden tug, he pressed her soft hand firmly against the warmest place—his heart.