“Denglin.”
Cheng Denglin didn’t know how long he had been sitting there when he suddenly heard his father call him. He glanced at his wife, breathing evenly in sleep, and seeing that she hadn’t woken, quickly closed the door and went out.
His father was standing in the living room, gathering the money scattered on the table and tucking it into a passbook before handing it to him. “Your mother isn’t feeling well and can’t cook. Go to the canteen and get a few dishes. I’ll steam the rice—it’ll be ready soon.”
For a moment, Cheng Denglin didn’t move.
“Take it!” his father urged. “If you leave money lying around, the kids might grab it and go buy firecrackers.”
His father’s words made it seem as though nothing had happened at all.
Cheng Denglin held his breath for a few seconds, then reached out and accepted the money—accepting, too, the ladder his father offered to cover up the truth. He went into the kitchen, picked up the lunch box and two bowls, and headed to the canteen.
Hearing the door close, Father Cheng sighed. He didn’t want to suspect his own daughter, yet he knew her too well. What his daughter-in-law had said wasn’t impossible. But what could he do? She was the child he had cherished since birth. All he could do was continue to favor her, pretending not to know.
When Cheng Denglin returned with the food, father and son set aside three extra portions and delivered them to the rooms before sitting down with the three children to eat.
The atmosphere at the table was heavy. Cheng Denglin remained silent. Lu Xiaoxiao and Lu Mingsheng kept sneaking glances at him, but he paid them no attention, acting as though everything were normal. Father Cheng busied himself serving the children, sighing quietly all the while.
Cheng Denglin had grown noticeably colder toward the two children. Even Cheng Hao, usually the noisiest of them all, said nothing. For once, he ate quietly.
After the meal, Cheng Denglin washed the dishes. On his way back to the room, he overheard Cheng Hao talking with his wife inside.
“Are you and Dad getting divorced?” Cheng Hao asked.
“Yes.”
“Why do you want a divorce? You can’t have children anymore—no one but Dad would want you. If you become a stepmother, someone else’s son won’t take care of you in old age. And if you leave, I…I won’t take care of you either!”
“…”
“Do you think I won’t beat you?” Cheng Denglin pushed the door open and saw his son freeze for a moment before quickly shrinking his neck and running inside, as if his father really had come in to hit him.
“Come here!” Chen Denglin barked, his face stern. “Who taught you to say things like that?”
Though it was clear Cheng Hao was awkwardly trying to express that he didn’t want his parents to divorce, how could he use such cruel words to belittle his own mother? And when Xiaoxiao and Mingsheng struck his mother, he had only hidden in the corner, peeking out, watching silently—without stepping forward to protect her. This temperament—he had to be taught!
Cheng Denglin whipped him with a belt, scolded him for a long time, and then made him apologize to his wife.
Jiang Nan, watching her husband discipline the unruly child, was rather amused. She didn’t care much about the half-hearted apology and told him, “Don’t worry. I have money. Even if no one takes care of me, I can live in a nursing home. But you’re different—you’ve got poor grades, you don’t listen, and you’ve got no money. You’ll only be leeching off your dad. And if one day your dad isn’t around, or refuses to let you leech off him, I think you’ll starve to death.”
PPT? Who doesn’t know how to do that? Come on, let’s P each other!
“Xiao Nan!” Cheng Denglin frowned, clearly disapproving of her way of speaking to the child.
Jiang Nan ignored him, beckoned Cheng Hao over, and spoke seriously: “Your dad and I really are getting divorced. From now on, I’ll come to see you once every two weeks or once a month. I’ll take you out to eat at restaurants, watch movies, or bring you tasty food and fun things. If other kids laugh at you because of our divorce, just brag about the things I do with you. Ask them: ‘My parents are divorced and I still get to live this well. If your parents aren’t divorced, shouldn’t you be living even better?’ If they can’t compare, then they’ve lost. Don’t bother with them, understand?”
Although Cheng Hao was a troublemaker, he was still young. Jiang Nan didn’t want her butterfly effect to cause him psychological problems.
“What tasty food? What fun things?” Cheng Hao immediately pressed.
Both Jiang Nan and Denglin were speechless. Was that really the point?
Forget it—no use expecting too much from this kid. Jiang Nan waved him off: “Whatever comes to mind, that’s what it’ll be.”
Cheng Hao still wanted to stay and sleep, pestering her about what fun and tasty things there would be, until Jiang Nan chased him out. There was no place for him to sleep here.
Because he had once pushed the original Jiang Nan, causing his sister to fall, Cheng Hao had been afraid at first and didn’t dare face her. At the hospital, Denglin had to drag him along, and even then he only peeked at Jiang Nan before turning his head away. After she returned home, he didn’t even come back to sleep, staying with his grandparents every night. Jiang Nan conveniently made Denglin sleep on the small bed instead.
So, for the next half month, Cheng Hao would continue squeezing in with his grandparents.
That night, Jiang Nan studied her textbooks for a while before preparing to sleep. Suddenly, Chen Denglin asked, “Xiao Nan, when did you find out about all this with my sister? Is that why you want a divorce?”
Lying down, Jiang Nan replied simply, “Not long ago.” And said no more.
Cheng Denglin lay awake until midnight.
The next morning, Mother Cheng seemed to have regained her strength and was able to get up and cook breakfast.
Though everyone tried hard to paper over the cracks, what had happened had happened. The fracture remained. Mother Cheng’s breakfast was noticeably smaller in quantity than before.
Cheng Denglin said nothing. After eating, he went to the canteen to buy porridge and buns for Jiang Nan.
Mother Cheng was displeased. She untied her apron and tossed it onto the stove. Yesterday had been a complete loss—she hadn’t managed to get the money back, and her daughter’s secret had been exposed by her daughter-in-law, driving a wedge between brother and sister. Mother Cheng was furious. Today she had planned to trip up her daughter-in-law. But just as she made a move, her son noticed. It left her seething.
Before leaving, Cheng Denglin stood at the kitchen door and pleaded with his mother: “Mom, the child Xiao Nan lost was my daughter. It was me who caused her suffering. She’ll only be staying here for half a month. Please, I beg you, help me take care of her for that half month.”
Mother Cheng lowered her head in silence. After her son left, she turned to Father Cheng with tears in her eyes: “They were right—sons are raised only to serve their wives!”
Father Cheng tried to comfort her: “It’s just half a month. Bear with it.”
Mother Cheng shot him a glare. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one doing the work!”
Father Cheng shook his head, clasped his hands behind his back, and went out to play chess.
Mother Cheng bit her lip, unable to swallow her anger. So, at lunchtime, she stirred up trouble again.
Jiang Nan looked at the obviously poorer quality of the food and said, exasperated: “Mom, I’ve already given you living expenses, and Denglin even added extra for nutrition. If you don’t want to cook for me, then return the money. I’ll find someone outside to prepare meals for me.”
Mother Cheng was at a loss for words. Money, money, money—how could everything come back to money! But faced with Jiang Nan’s threat, she finally quieted down.
Two days later, the clothes from the Duan family arrived. Cheng Denglin immediately delivered them to the Zhou household, but Director Zhou excused himself, saying he was entertaining guests, and did not meet him. Cheng Denglin left disappointed and disheartened.
Because the atmosphere at home had been tense these past few days, he and his sister had both tried to avoid each other. As a result, the plan to invite Duan Hua over for a meal was dropped. Instead, Cheng Denglin invited him out alone to a restaurant, where they shared a drink.
After crying bitterly, Cheng Yixin stayed indoors for two or three days. The first thing she did when she finally went out was to seek out colleagues, friends, and admirers from the factory to ask about any rumors concerning her.
She had spent two days puzzling over how her sister-in-law had gotten hold of the news, how long it had been circulating, and how far it had spread. The uncertainty terrified her. Yet she couldn’t uncover anything at all.
Everyone was making every effort to act as though nothing had happened that day. And so, the Cheng household settled into a strange, uneasy calm. Jiang Nan spent her days reviewing lessons, exercising, and occasionally tidying up her luggage. Her life was orderly.
A week later, there was good news about her job.
Aunt Guo bustled in energetically. Mother Cheng was present too, but Jiang Nan didn’t avoid her. She welcomed Aunt Guo right there in the living room, unconcerned whether Mother Cheng overheard.
Aunt Guo, however, looked a little embarrassed. She pulled Jiang Nan aside and spoke hesitantly: “Middle school can be arranged. But can you teach that foreign language… what’s it called… English! Yes, English—can you teach it?”
“I can,” Jiang Nan nodded, a little surprised and delighted.
Teaching English would be far less demanding for her than other subjects. Because of her work, she often dealt with foreign trade and had developed fluent American pronunciation. With junior high English grammar being fairly simple, she was more than capable.
“That’s good!” Aunt Guo repeated her confirmation, then, seeing Jiang Nan’s confident demeanor, patted her chest in relief: “The principal insists they’re short of English teachers. Nothing else will be considered. They even require a trial lecture—if you don’t pass, they won’t accept you. Before coming, I worried you couldn’t teach it. Now I can rest easy.”
Jiang Nan smiled and thanked Aunt Guo, then asked, “When is the trial lecture? I’ll prepare.”
At this, Aunt Guo grew anxious again, sweat beading on her forehead: “Next Monday morning at ten. Xiao Jiang, you must prepare well.”
The principal seemed intent on discouraging applicants—his demands on a substitute teacher were unusually high and strict. If not for Xiaojian’s insistence on the timing, Aunt Guo wouldn’t have been willing to make the introduction at all.
Jiang Nan nodded. It was already Saturday, and time was indeed tight.
“You have textbooks, right? If not, I’ll borrow some for you!” Aunt Guo offered enthusiastically. She truly hoped Jiang Nan would succeed in getting the job, saving her the trouble of finding someone else.
Jiang Nan did have them.
When the original Jiang Nan married Cheng Denglin, she had brought two suitcases: one filled with books, a few clothes, and a new quilt. That box of books contained all her school textbooks from childhood, along with old volumes she had scavenged from the recycling station. The six junior high English textbooks were still well preserved.
Hearing this, Aunt Guo felt reassured, finally relaxed enough to chat: “I heard there used to be two English teachers, both educated youth. One got into university last year, and the other plans to take the exam this year, so she doesn’t want to handle two grades. That’s why they’re recruiting again. But the principal has interviewed several people already and wasn’t satisfied with any of them…”
Jiang Nan couldn’t help but smile. If she and the other teacher both left for university in July, wouldn’t the school have to recruit again next semester? How pitiful.
After a bit more small talk, Aunt Guo left—she was a busy woman.
Jiang Nan washed her cup as usual, then prepared to study for the trial lecture. Just before entering her room, she overheard Mother Cheng muttering: “Teaching? And English, no less? Aren’t you afraid of twisting your tongue with such big talk…”
Jiang Nan was speechless. Was this old lady simply bored, always looking for trouble? She pretended not to hear, pulled out her textbooks, and began preparing.
When Cheng Denglin returned and heard his mother mention Aunt Guo’s visit and the conversation, he realized his wife had already arranged her work. He watched her serious figure bent over her notes and remained silent for a long time.
On Monday morning, Jiang Nan rose early, dressed in a white blouse and black trousers. She didn’t wear leather shoes—the only pair she owned was a birthday gift from Denglin, and she hadn’t touched them. Instead, she put on black velvet shoes, gathered her textbooks and lesson plan, and headed for the bus.
Unexpectedly, Cheng Denglin was waiting outside with his bicycle. “I’ll take you to the bus station,” he said.
Jiang Nan didn’t refuse. She still couldn’t walk far or stand for long. The bus ride from the factory to the station took over forty minutes with all the stops, and from the station to Hongshan Commune was more than an hour. If there were no seats, she’d have to stand the whole way, which she couldn’t manage.
They rode in silence. Cheng Denglin dropped her at the station before hurrying off to work.
Jiang Nan endured the jolting ride, nearly sick, but finally arrived at her destination.
Hongshan Commune and Hongshan Middle School looked much as the original Jiang Nan remembered. What surprised her was that the demanding principal turned out to be an acquaintance.
The principal clearly remembered her too. At first sight, he pointed at her and said: “I remember you—the snake-catching girl!”