At the Shen residence, Shen Zhanlie was also preparing for his blind date.
Early in the morning, Mother Shen busied herself alongside him, retrieving the previously washed, mended, and neatly pressed blue work uniform, which she handed to Shen Zhanlie.
“I used labor cloth to patch the shoulders and elbows—it’s hardly noticeable unless you look closely,” she said, holding the garment up to her son for inspection. “Wear this to the blind date, and remember not to slaughter any pigs or carry any pork today.”
“Try to pick cleaner tasks to avoid soiling your clothes, or else Comrade Jiang Meishu might not fancy you.”
During blind dates, it was only natural to present oneself respectably; otherwise, the first impression would be poor.
Shen Zhanlie understood this well and nodded as he accepted the clothing.
The room was small, so there was no need to go inside to change. He simply removed his short-sleeved shirt, revealing his sturdy, well-defined muscles that seemed to ripple with movement.
An intense wave of masculinity emanated from him—heroic and robust.
Who wouldn’t exclaim “what a fine man!” at the sight of his nearly six-foot-three frame?
Yet, Shen Zhanlie paid no mind to such impressions.
He casually slipped into the mended work uniform, using his large, fan-like hands to smooth out the wrinkles. “I’ll try to avoid dirty work, but if it’s unavoidable, then so be it.”
“I think—”
“Comrade Jiang Meishu wouldn’t look down on me for that, would she?”
Her son’s straightforward mindset worried Mother Shen. “That may be true, but what if she finds you dirty or thinks our family’s conditions are too poor? What will you do then?”
“If this blind date falls through, who knows when the next opportunity will come?”
Their family was notoriously impoverished. Even those familiar with their circumstances, who might otherwise be interested in Shen Zhanlie, hesitated to betroth their daughters to him.
The reason was simple: Shen Zhanlie carried too many burdens.
It was only the Jiang family, with their relatively stable conditions and willingness to support their daughter, who agreed to this blind date.
Fifteen-year-old Shen Yinping chimed in, “Then why not let my brother wear dirty clothes first? After finishing work, he can change into clean ones for the blind date.”
That was one possible solution.
“But where would your brother get a second set of clothes?” Mother Shen sighed. “He wears this same work uniform year-round. The other set was altered for you children to wear.”
With four children in the family,
Shen Zhanlie was the only one working as a laborer to earn money. They lacked everything.
Her words cast a silence over everyone.
Shen Yinping gritted her teeth. “Once I graduate from junior high, I’ll start looking for a job early.”
Shen Zhanlie glanced at her. “Focus on your studies. I’ll handle the money matters.”
Shen Yinping lowered her head without responding, knowing she had always been a burden to the family.
Shen Zhanlie, with his more easygoing nature, didn’t dwell on such details.
“Keeping the clothes clean isn’t that difficult. I’ll just wear a plastic sheet over me in the workshop—it should cover most of it.”
“Besides, no one working in the Meatpacking Factory workshop stays clean.” His expression was frank. “If Comrade Jiang Meishu dislikes me for that, I’ll accept it.”
Those employed at the Meatpacking Factory were almost never spotless.
Whether slaughtering pigs, carrying pork, or dividing meat,
from head to toe, not a single person remained clean.
Oh, no.
There were also clean and tidy people.
That would be the factory director—Liang Qiurun.
But such people were inherently different from those at the bottom like them, who relied on physical labor to make a living.
They were also beyond the reach of ordinary working-class folk.
“Alright, enough joking around. Get ready.”
Mother Shen pushed him away, gritting her teeth as she handed him two yuan in cash and one and a half jin of grain coupons. “Since you’re meeting at the canteen, you’ll need to treat Comrade Jiang to a meal. Spend what you must.”
Shen Zhanlie looked at the change and grain coupons. This time, he didn’t refuse but accepted them.
“I’ll do my best to make Comrade Jiang Meishu satisfied with me. I’ll bring a daughter-in-law home for you!”
The Liang family was also preparing for the blind date.
Mother Liang was preoccupied with her son’s upcoming meeting.
She had long sought out an old tailor, bought Dacron fabric, and had a brand-new Dacron shirt made for him.
Early in the morning, she rushed to her son’s home.
It was only just six o’clock when she arrived. The autumn sun had not yet fully risen, and the sky was still dim, shrouded in a hazy mist.
She had deliberately chosen this time to avoid running into anyone.
Arriving at her son’s place, Mother Liang took out her key and opened the door with practiced ease.
She had assumed her son was still asleep, but to her surprise, he was already in the courtyard practicing military-style boxing.
Under the morning sunlight, Liang Qiurun wore only a loose, white cotton button-up shirt. The light fell on his face, accentuating his jade-like features and refined, gentle demeanor.
Yet, as he executed the military-style boxing moves, each punch and strike was sharp and fierce, radiating power—a stark contrast to his gentle appearance.
Sweat had soaked through the loose cotton shirt, clinging to his body and faintly revealing the contours of his well-developed chest muscles and the block-like abdominal muscles above his stomach.
He appeared slender and frail, but that was far from the truth.
Liang Qiurun sensed movement behind him and gradually withdrew his stance, the fierce intensity of his movements softening.
“Mother, you’re here.”
His voice was gentle, like a soft breeze in March, devoid of any chill.
Seeing her son’s state, Mother Liang took out a turquoise handkerchief from her pocket and reached to wipe his sweat.
But Liang Qiurun deftly avoided her.
As her hand brushed past his temple, a wave of goosebumps instantly prickled his skin.
Liang Qiurun took a slight step back, suppressing his discomfort. “I’ll take a shower later. No need to dirty your handkerchief.”
Mother Liang looked somewhat hurt. “Are you even disgusted by your own mother now?””
Liang Qiurun lowered his gaze, his long, thick eyelashes veiling his eyes. “No.”
Mother Liang sighed softly. “I came to remind you about the clothes for the blind date. I brought them for you. Don’t get so caught up in work tomorrow that you forget—Comrade Jiang Meilan will be waiting for you at the Trade Union office.”
Her son was a workaholic, often forgetting even to eat when busy, let alone a blind date.
Liang Qiurun nodded and walked to the courtyard sink. Turning on the faucet, he first splashed water on his face, thoroughly washing the area where his mother’s hand had brushed his temple.
Had Mother Liang looked closely, she might have noticed Liang Qiurun’s slight urge to retch.
But Liang Qiurun had always been adept at concealing it.
Combined with Mother Liang’s personality—she was never a meticulous person to begin with—this was why she missed the unusual signs in Liang Qiurun.
After washing up, the steam clung to Liang Qiurun’s thick, dark eyebrows, making his demeanor appear even more gentle and refined. His voice was calm and unhurried as he said, “Mother, I understand.”
“I will attend the matchmaking session at ten o’clock this morning.”
He needed a wife to help him discipline Liang Rui.
However, some matters might need to be clarified from the start.
Liang Qiurun didn’t know whether Comrade Jiang Meilan would agree once he stated his conditions.
Seeing him agree, Mother Liang finally breathed a sigh of relief. “As long as you remember, then I’ll head back now.”
She wanted to return home before the neighbors came out, as she disliked crowded places.
Liang Qiurun nodded and watched his mother leave.
When he turned around, he saw Liang Rui standing in the corridor—tall and thin, with high-arching brow bones, deep dark pupils, and a sullen expression that made him look unapproachable.
“You heard?”
When it came to his only son, Liang Qiurun’s tone grew even softer. It could be said that he owed Liang Rui.
Because Liang Rui’s father had died on the battlefield saving him.
And Liang Rui, who should have had a normal, healthy family, saw it shatter in an instant due to his father’s sacrifice.
He had followed Liang Qiurun far from home to the capital.
Liang Rui nodded. “Dad,” he called out, “I don’t really want you to go matchmaking.”
“I don’t want another outsider in our home either.”
He thought things were fine as they were—with him, his dad, and Aunt Wang, the three of them were enough.
Adding a stepmother felt like an intrusion into his territory.
Liang Qiurun walked up to him. He initially wanted to reach out and pat his head, but realizing something, he subtly withdrew his hand and took a slight step back.
“Our family needs a mistress of the house. I need a wife, and you need a mother.”
“Liang Rui,” he said, looking down at the teenager who already stood taller than his shoulders, “Haven’t you been teased at school for not having a mother?”
“I can find you a mother.”
“As for whether she might be a cruel stepmother, you don’t need to worry about that.”
Liang Qiurun spoke calmly, “I’ve heard about her reputation at the Meatpacking Factory—she’s virtuous and kind-hearted. Someone like that would be well-suited to be your stepmother.”
Her presence could fill the gaps in their family.
That was Liang Qiurun’s only requirement.
Liang Rui looked up and unexpectedly met Liang Qiurun’s gaze—those exceptionally gentle and accommodating eyes. He opened his mouth, a complex emotion stirring inside him.
He wanted to say it wasn’t necessary.
But he didn’t know how to begin.
After a long pause, Liang Rui muttered, “I understand.”
Seeing his son like this, Liang Qiurun massaged his temples in frustration. “Until my matchmaking is successful, behave yourself at school these next few days. Don’t go around causing trouble.”
Liang Rui snorted coldly, his rebellious eyebrows arching even higher.
“Liang Rui!”
Liang Qiurun’s voice rose slightly.
Liang Rui lowered his head, his eyelashes like small fans concealing his dark, defiant gaze.
“Got it, Dad.”
His replies were always these same few words.
It was a silent rebellion.
Liang Qiurun was not unaware. He frowned slightly and said, “Go get ready. Eat the meal Aunt Wang made, then head to school.”
Liang Rui grunted in acknowledgment before turning to wash up.
Liang Qiurun watched his retreating figure and let out a deep sigh.
Truthfully, Liang Qiurun wasn’t very good at being a father.
Or rather, he didn’t consider himself a good father.
At least where Liang Rui was concerned.
Although he had adopted the boy, his demanding work schedule meant he was often absent from his paternal duties.
This was precisely what had shaped Liang Rui into his current personality—rebellious, defiant, and unyielding.
Liang Qiurun thought to himself that he needed a wife, a gentle, virtuous, and tolerant wife.
Perhaps her presence could gradually bring about some changes in Liang Rui.
With this thought in mind,
Liang Qiurun became even more earnest about the arranged marriage prospects.
He murmured softly, “Jiang Meilan.”