For the sake of preparing for the college entrance exam, the best option for Jiang Nan would have been to sell her job outright. With money in hand, she wouldn’t need to work or worry about her livelihood, and could devote herself entirely to studying. But if she did that, her household registration would become a problem.
Without a work unit to rely on, and having left the Cheng family, her household registration could only be moved back to the original host’s rural home—a pit no better than the Cheng household, one she absolutely could not fall into.
Jiang Nan had considered buying a house in the city to settle her registration, but housing was scarce in this era. Empty houses either had ownership disputes or were so dilapidated they were uninhabitable. Buying, repairing, furnishing—all of it would take time, effort, and money. On top of that, she had to pay child support for Cheng Hao and cover her own living expenses. The money she had might not last half a year.
After weighing her options, she decided to exchange her job instead. That way, both her hukou and housing could be resolved together.
Securing or adding a substitute-teacher position was easy for some people, and it didn’t take away anyone else’s job. This kind of mutually beneficial arrangement satisfied Jiang Nan.
She chose Hongshan Commune because the original host had attended junior high there for three years and was familiar with the area. It was also far enough from the Cheng family to give her peace of mind.
Once everything was settled, Aunt Guo chatted briefly with Jiang Nan, finished her brown sugar water, and bustled off to take care of her own affairs.
Jiang Nan went to the kitchen, poured hot water, and carefully washed the enamel mug Aunt Guo had used. Instead of returning to her room to study right away, she sat in the living room and flipped through the newspapers Father Cheng subscribed to.
Politics was a compulsory subject on the college entrance exam, and Jiang Nan was unfamiliar with the current political climate of this era. She needed to build up knowledge, and newspapers were the most convenient way. She didn’t know how long she had been reading when the sound of the door opening came from outside.
Mother Cheng entered carrying a new cotton quilt, followed by three children, each holding bits and pieces of things in their hands.
Seeing Jiang Nan sitting in the living room, Mother Cheng was clearly a little surprised. Once she recovered, she said lightly, “You’re up,”—a perfunctory greeting—then told Lu Mingsheng to open the heroine’s room door and put everything inside.
Mother Cheng’s cold attitude felt normal to Jiang Nan. After all, hadn’t they sparred two or three times just yesterday? What she didn’t know was whether Cheng Denglin had told his family about the divorce yet.
If Mother Cheng already knew, then this aloofness might mean a truce. That would make the next half month much easier for her.
Unfortunately, things weren’t as she imagined.
The reason Mother Cheng didn’t trouble her was simply because she had seen her son stuffing a bankbook into his briefcase that morning. She knew he was going to withdraw money to return to his sister. Although this meant husband and wife hadn’t reached an agreement—since the daughter-in-law refused to give the money back—still, between husband and wife, whose money was whose? It was all the same, just moving from one hand to the other. With her goal achieved, Mother Cheng was naturally willing to show Jiang Nan a slightly kinder face.
Besides, if her son was willing to take out money behind his wife’s back, it proved that compared to his spouse, he leaned more toward his family. What dissatisfaction could Mother Cheng possibly have?
By the time they came out, Jiang Nan had already returned to her room.
Seeing that she had the sense not to linger in the living room being an eyesore, Mother Cheng’s mood improved further. Even when Cheng Hao clamored for peach crisps, she didn’t restrict him—she let them go fetch it themselves.
Lu Xiaoxiao didn’t follow her two brothers. Instead, she tugged at Mother Cheng’s sleeve, signaling she had something to say. Mother Cheng smiled kindly and bent down to listen.
“I saw Aunt Guo come looking for Auntie,” the little girl whispered, her breath tickling Mother Cheng’s ear.
Mother Cheng asked in puzzlement, “Which Aunt Guo?” Her daughter-in-law wasn’t acquainted with any Guo family.
Lu Xiaoxiao tilted her head, raised her hand, and gestured: “The tall, fair, chubby Aunt Guo.”
Now Mother Cheng understood who it was, and she also knew why Aunt Guo had come. Though she disapproved of Aunt Guo contacting her daughter-in-law privately, there was no need to fuss. Judging from her daughter-in-law’s attitude, she wasn’t planning to return to work early. If she wanted to hire a temp, so be it—at least she could earn back a few yuan.
But these were not things to tell the children, so Mother Cheng steered Lu Xiaoxiao onto another topic. “Weren’t you playing with Grandpa? How did you see that?”
“Grandpa isn’t fun—he just keeps playing chess. Even when we call him, he doesn’t move. So we went out from Grandpa Li’s house to play, and that’s when we saw Auntie open the door and let her in.”
Mother Cheng understood, and corrected her gently: “When you see her, you shouldn’t call her Aunt Guo. That’s the wrong generation. You should call her Grandma Guo.”
When Lu Xiaoxiao nodded in agreement, Mother Cheng sent her off to join her brothers eating peach crisps, then sat down at the sewing machine to make a new quilt cover for her daughter.
Jiang Nan hadn’t heard any of this. Even if she had, she wouldn’t have cared. The original owner’s job had been earned through her own effort; the Cheng family hadn’t contributed a bit, so they had no right to interfere—just as she herself couldn’t “covet” Cheng Yixin’s job.
Speaking of Cheng Yixin, she returned a little later than Mother Cheng and the others. As soon as she came in, she eagerly hurried to her mother’s side. “Mom, the clothing issue is solved!”
Mother Cheng took off her reading glasses, her face lighting up with joy. “How was it solved?”
Cheng Yixin happily explained the whole story: “Duan Hua also asked someone to buy the same outfit for his daughter. It should arrive in the next couple of days. He said our family’s matter is more urgent, so he’s willing to let us have the clothes instead.”
“That’s wonderful!” Mother Cheng exclaimed twice in delight, then told her daughter, “You must thank him properly. Ask when he’s free and invite him over for dinner.”
Duan Hua had been both her daughter’s and son’s high school classmate, and had always liked her daughter. Back then, he even sent a matchmaker to propose, but since Cheng Yixin had already been promised to Lu Lin, both families pretended the matter had never happened.
Later, Duan Hua married through a matchmaker and had a son and a daughter. Three years ago, his wife was diagnosed with stomach cancer. Because it was discovered late, she didn’t survive even half a year.
After Cheng Yixin returned, many people tried to pair them up, and Duan Hua himself was interested. But Mother Cheng wasn’t entirely satisfied.
Duan Hua was an excellent match—his family background was simple, he was young and promising, and by not yet thirty he was already deputy director of production in the factory’s second workshop. Like Cheng Denglin, he was praised throughout the family compound as a talented young man. Even as a widower, he was still highly sought after. The only drawback was that his children were about the same age as Lu Xiaoxiao and Lu Mingsheng.
Children together naturally love to compare, to quarrel and fight. Once conflicts arose, Duan Hua might be fair, but his widowed mother would certainly side with her own grandchildren. Mother Cheng worried her own grandchildren would suffer grievances.
Besides, with four children all around the same age, in just a few years they would be half-grown boys eating their parents out of house and home. Two adults raising four children would be a heavy burden. So she had always told her daughter to remain just friends with Duan Hua, reminding her constantly not to cross the line. Whenever others tried to matchmake, she found excuses to brush it off.
Now that Cheng Yixin had been admitted to university, the two were even less suitable. So inviting him over for a meal as thanks was harmless enough.
Cheng Yixin nodded obediently. “Alright, Mom. It’ll just mean you’ll have to work hard preparing everything inside and out.”
“What’s hard about it? It’s all for the good of our family.” Mother Cheng felt soothed by her daughter’s thoughtful words and patted her hand.
Mother and daughter leaned close, whispering their private talk.
Jiang Nan didn’t want to eavesdrop, but the house had poor soundproofing, so bits of their conversation inevitably reached her ears. She already knew from the plot that Duan Hua would help the heroine solve this matter. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder what Duan Hua’s daughter thought—after waiting so long for a new outfit, her father had so easily promised it away to someone else.
When Cheng Denglin returned, Mother Cheng was busy checking through the things prepared with Cheng Yixin.
“Mom, we can buy the hot-water kettle at school. If we bring one from home, it might get damaged on the way. Besides, Dad and I can’t carry so much stuff.” Cheng Yixin’s complaint carried a sweet note of worry.
But Mother Cheng refused. “That needs industrial coupons. Where will you get those over there? If your father can’t carry it, see if your brother can take leave. If not, I’ll go with your father to send you…”
The two were chatting warmly when Cheng Denglin came in. Mother Cheng turned in surprise, glanced at the clock, and saw it was still early, not yet time to cook. She asked curiously, “Denglin, why are you home from work so early today?”
Cheng Denglin nodded. “I had to go to the post office, so I told my supervisor and left early.”
Mother Cheng understood immediately, her eyes full of satisfaction. It meant her son had withdrawn the money. Happily, she told him the clothing issue was resolved: “Once the clothes arrive, you must deliver them to the Zhou family right away. We absolutely cannot afford another mishap.”
Cheng Denglin was pleased to hear it, his spirits lifting a little.
Mother Cheng beckoned him over. “Come and see if there’s anything missing.”
Her son had also studied at a university out of town, so he had more experience. But when he went to college, it had been his wife who prepared everything.
Mother Cheng herself hadn’t worried much about it. Thinking of this, she lowered her eyes, a flicker of guilt passing through her heart—followed by a trace of dislike for her daughter-in-law’s way of controlling and managing everything for her son.
Cheng Denglin took the account book from his mother’s hands. It listed many items: quilts, mosquito nets, toothpaste, toothbrushes, cold cream, soap, hot-water kettle… Each one had a price marked beside it, showing they were all newly bought, the total amount not small. His fingers tightened unconsciously around the account book, his mood sinking to the bottom. He asked casually, “You even bought a mosquito net?”
Mother Cheng didn’t notice his change of tone and complained, “Yes. I don’t know why, but the ones at home turned yellow after washing—they looked dirty. I was afraid Yixin would be laughed at by her classmates, so I bought a brand-new one.”
Cheng Denglin nodded, suppressing the urge to ask who had paid for all this. Instead, he said, “It’s very complete.” Too complete—most of these things they already had at home, yet they had all been replaced without regard for cost.
Then he took out the money he had withdrawn today from his briefcase, counted out three hundred and forty yuan for his sister, and set aside the remaining sixty to put back in his briefcase, intending to give it to his mother next month as living expenses.
But Mother Cheng hesitated and said, “Your father already took more than seventy…”
Cheng Denglin glanced at the money in his hand, gave a bitter smile, and laid it before his mother. Then he patted down the inner pockets of his jacket and the pockets of his trousers, pulling out every last coin he had on him and placing it all in front of her.
From her brother’s movements, Cheng Yixin sensed a trace of embarrassment, but she lowered her eyes and said nothing. Mother Cheng, on the other hand, was used to it—she thought her son was just like before, simply not carrying much cash on him.
“Brother, does Sister-in-law know you’re giving us this money back?” Yixin’s gentle voice carried hesitation and worry. In truth, it was her habitual way of feigning reluctance while sowing discord.
“She doesn’t know.” A mocking female voice cut in abruptly.
Startled, Mother Cheng and her daughter looked up to see Jiang Nan, who had somehow opened her door without them noticing.
Cheng Denglin’s body stiffened.
“Where’s the bankbook?” Jiang Nan walked over and asked, her eyes sweeping across the money laid out before Mother Cheng and Yixin.
After a moment’s hesitation, Cheng Denglin took it from his briefcase and handed it to her.
Jiang Nan opened it, glanced at the balance, and let out a derisive laugh. Then she called out, “Dad!” summoning Father Cheng, who had been listening to a storytelling program with the children in the other room.
“What now?” Father Cheng came out, frowning at the interruption, and sat down.
This endless turmoil—since the start of the year, nothing had gone smoothly!
Jiang Nan also sat down, looked at the family, and asked, “Dad, Mom, Little Sister—yesterday when we went over the accounts, which part was unclear, imprecise, or beyond your understanding?”
The Cheng family was baffled. Mother Cheng asked, “Xiao Nan, what do you mean by this?”
Jiang Nan smiled. “I mean, the three of you are all mentally sound adults—you understand plain speech and you can do arithmetic. Yesterday, what I demanded from Little Sister was money that rightfully belonged to me. You acknowledged that, and willingly returned it in full. So what does it mean to ask Denglin for it back today? Are you regretting it? Or just greedy without end?”
“…”
The blunt, cutting words left the Cheng family stunned, their minds blank.