Chen Qiaoyu sorted out a basket of melons, fruits, and vegetables.
It was clear that Aunt Jin and Yingzi had picked the best ones—each one was fresh, crisp, and beautiful to look at.
Chen Qiaoyu selected some and took them to the three educated youths living in the old house. As usual, she left them on their windowsill—a few cucumbers and tomatoes for each person, two bunches of greens, and a deep purple eggplant.
Enough to last them two days.
As she was placing the vegetables, she ran into Qi Xiangdong, who had just returned. Seeing her, he quickly said, “Thank you, thank you! But you don’t need to give me any.”
He was smiling, unable to hide his joy.
Noticing he seemed to be in good spirits, Chen Qiaoyu smiled and asked, “Why not?”
“I’m leaving,” Qi Xiangdong said in a lighthearted tone, waving the train ticket in his hand. “I just went to town to buy it. I leave early the day after tomorrow. First, I’ll go home, and then from there to school to register.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful news!” Chen Qiaoyu was genuinely happy for him.
In those days, having a college student come out of any village was a source of pride for the whole community.
Qi Xiangdong handed back the vegetables from the windowsill, keeping only one tomato. He wiped it on his clothes and took a bite.
The sweet and tangy juice immediately flooded his mouth. He took a big, satisfying slurp before saying, “I’m treating everyone to dinner tomorrow night. You and Qingyang should come.”
Chen Qiaoyu laughed. “Alright then. I’ll make a couple of dishes to see you off.”
Qi Xiangdong was thrilled. “That would be great. Sinian and Zhou Quan aren’t much good at cooking. Qingyang says you’re a great cook, so we’ll leave the main cooking to you tomorrow.”
Chen Qiaoyu readily agreed. “No problem! I’ve been cooking since I was a kid—it’s easy for me.”
Right then and there, Qi Xiangdong told Chen Qiaoyu that he would buy the meat and other ingredients the next day.
Chen Qiaoyu said, “Don’t bother buying vegetables. I have plenty—we’ll use mine.”
“Deal.” Qi Xiangdong didn’t hesitate. He had already decided to leave all his belongings to Chen Qingyang when he left, so eating some of their vegetables was nothing.
That evening, when Chen Qingyang and the others returned and heard that Qi Xiangdong was leaving the day after tomorrow, they all readily agreed to have a good celebration and farewell dinner the next night.
For the first time, all five people from the old house gathered together.
Zhou Quan said, “I’ve got a can of braised pork I’ve been saving. Qi Xiangdong, you’re in luck tomorrow!”
Qi Xiangdong laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t lose out!”
Even Zhong Sinian, who rarely spoke, said, “I’ll bring back a rabbit tomorrow.”
He didn’t say where the rabbit would come from.
Chen Qiaoyu glanced at him. She was pretty sure Zhong Sinian had caught it up in the mountains.
Zhong Sinian—he had such a refined name, and he really was an educated youth from the city, but he didn’t seem like one at all.
Zhou Quan and Qi Xiangdong spoke with restraint and civility, graceful and proper. But Zhong Sinian was like a gourd that couldn’t speak—someone could say ten sentences, and he’d answer with a single “mm.”
Seeing that everyone was contributing something, even his own sister, Chen Qingyang grew a little anxious. He leaned forward and interjected, “What should I bring? What can I do?”
Qi Xiangdong patted him and joked, “Just bring your appetite.”
But Chen Qingyang wasn’t having it.
Having been raised by Chen Qiaoyu, he had none of the spoiled tendencies of a younger sibling. He was more like a little man.
When Chen Qiaoyu went to the fields to earn work points, he couldn’t yet, but after school he cut pig feed, chopped firewood, planted vegetables, picked up bricks at the brick kiln—whatever he could do.
Qi Xiangdong and the others didn’t mind if he didn’t contribute, but Qingyang insisted on doing something. “How about I go fishing tomorrow and catch some river shrimp?”
“No!” Chen Qiaoyu immediately stopped him.
The previous year, two children had drowned while swimming in the river at Zhangjiawan. She absolutely would not allow Chen Qingyang to go into the river.
Chen Qingyang wanted to argue, but one look at his sister’s face left him torn.
“Come up the mountain with me.”
Zhong Sinian, who had been quietly silent, suddenly spoke up.
Chen Qiaoyu was taken aback. “Is that okay?”
Zhong Sinian’s face was expressionless. “I need an extra pair of hands.”
Before Chen Qiaoyu could respond, Chen Qingyang quickly agreed. “Then I’ll go up the mountain with Brother Zhong!”
…
The next day, Chen Qiaoyu still got up early to work. But during the long midday break when the sun was at its strongest, she made a trip to Old Lady Yao’s house.
Although Old Lady Yao’s surname was also Yao, she wasn’t actually from Yaojia Village. She had come to the countryside in her old age to live with her nephew.
Old Lady Yao had paid to have a large green-brick and tile-roofed house built for her nephew’s family at the foot of the mountain at the village’s edge. To this day, it remained the most impressive house in the village.
Later, Old Lady Yao’s nephew and his descendants all passed away one after another, leaving her alone to live out her days in that big green-brick house.
The villagers all guessed that Old Lady Yao had money. Her mannerisms showed she came from a wealthy family—she never went out to work, yet she never lacked for food or clothing.
Why she had moved to the countryside and why no family members ever came looking for her—no one knew.
Some gossiping villagers said Old Lady Yao brought bad luck to those around her and that she was eccentric and reclusive. So most people tended to steer clear of her.
But Chen Qiaoyu knew that Old Lady Yao was actually a very good person.
One New Year’s, she and Qingyang accidentally knocked over the clay pot of simmering chicken soup. Chen Liang and Yao Jinhua beat them nearly to death, threw them out, and made them kneel as punishment. By nightfall, they still hadn’t been allowed back inside.
Chen Qiaoyu had felt utterly hopeless at that moment. For an instant, she thought she couldn’t go on. She took Chen Qingyang by the hand and trudged through the heavy snow toward the mountains, stumbling with every step.
But as they passed the green-brick house, they saw Old Lady Yao, who rarely ever showed her face.
Dressed in a thick cotton-padded coat and leaning on a cane, Old Lady Yao had a charcoal brazier—the kind common in rural areas—set beside her. Her front door was wide open, and she sat on the threshold watching the snow-covered ground outside.
Her hair was pulled into a neat bun, and her deeply wrinkled face looked stern and harsh.
Yet this stern, harsh old woman called out to Chen Qiaoyu, brought the siblings into her home, and fed them a full meal.
Later, Chen Qiaoyu wanted to thank her, but Old Lady Yao wanted none of it: “Don’t come showing off your paltry little gifts in front of me. Just go live your own life!”
So Chen Qiaoyu could only repay her by helping carry water and chop firewood every now and then, along with Qingyang.
This time, Chen Qiaoyu had come to trade for some eggs.
She set down the carefully sorted vegetables. Old Lady Yao didn’t even lift her eyelids. “Take them back. I don’t need these.”
Chen Qiaoyu ignored her and instead pulled out two pairs of new socks from the bottom of the basket. “These socks are very comfortable. They wick away sweat and have some stretch to them. City people all wear these.”
Old Lady Yao’s eyelids lifted just a fraction. “Are they better than the old-fashioned kind?”
Chen Qiaoyu shook her head. “I wouldn’t know—I’ve never used the old kind. But you’ll definitely be able to tell the difference.”
Only then did Old Lady Yao reach out her hand. Chen Qiaoyu quickly placed the socks into her palm with both hands.
Old Lady Yao felt them carefully, front and back. Her expression didn’t show much satisfaction, but she still decided to keep them. “They’ll do. What do you want in exchange?”
Chen Qiaoyu answered immediately: “Eggs. Or duck eggs would work too.”
Goose eggs would also be fine, but no one in Yaojia Village raised geese, so goose eggs were hard to come by.
Old Lady Yao put away the socks, picked up Chen Qiaoyu’s basket, and went into the inner room. After a moment, she came back out with the basket half-filled with eggs.
Chen Qiaoyu quickly said, “Granny, I don’t need this many.”
But Old Lady Yao ignored her. She set the basket down on the floor. “Take it or leave it.”
Chen Qiaoyu had no choice. That was just how Old Lady Yao was—eccentric and temperamental. She had happened to discover that although Old Lady Yao seemed rigid and harsh on the outside, she actually quite liked new things.
She enjoyed having Chen Qingyang read the newspaper to her. She had readily accepted the milk candies Chen Qiaoyu brought back from her eldest uncle’s house during the New Year.
But sometimes, Chen Qiaoyu would unknowingly cross one of Old Lady Yao’s sore spots and get thrown out, basket and all.
By now, though, she was used to it. This time, Old Lady Yao was clearly quite pleased with the socks. She had given Chen Qiaoyu more than twenty eggs.
Chen Qiaoyu was overjoyed—this was more than enough to last her several trips back and forth to the modern world. She could even start saving up eggs for her cousin Yu Dahong, her eldest uncle’s daughter, who was expecting a baby!