For several days straight, work began before the sky was even fully lit.
A thin layer of calluses had formed on Shen Zhiyi’s hands, but new blood blisters kept bubbling up anyway. She gritted her teeth, pricked them open, squeezed out the fluid, and wrapped them haphazardly with strips of cloth.
Holding the hoe the next day brought a heart-wrenching pain, but she didn’t dare utter a peep, terrified that others would mock her for being delicate.
That afternoon, the sun beat down mercilessly, heating up the earth along the ridges.
The section of land assigned to Shen Zhiyi ran along the irrigation ditch, where the weeds grew thick and their roots ran deep. She pulled them slowly, her wisps of hair soaked with sweat and plastered to her cheeks.
When she straightened up to wipe the sweat away, Lin Yanzhou’s voice drifted over from behind her.
“Can’t you move a little faster? Everyone else has worked their way way ahead, and you’re trailing so far behind by yourself. The team leader’s going to say we educated youth are slacking off again.”
Shen Zhiyi turned around to see him standing on the ridge carrying a hoe. The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows, his brow furrowed in utter impatience.
“I… I’ll catch up right away.” She hurriedly crouched back down and picked up the pace.
Lin Yanzhou let out a heavy sigh, stepped down off the ridge, and pulled a few armfuls of weeds for her.
He worked quickly, clearing the patch she had fallen behind on in just a few quick motions.
Yet his mouth didn’t stay quiet for a second: “Back in the city, I told you rural life wasn’t what you imagined. Just look at you—you can’t carry water buckets, you can’t weed fast, and you can’t even handle a bit of sun. You insisted on coming along, and now you see how hard it is, don’t you?”
Shen Zhiyi kept her head down, her fingers digging into the dirt as she whispered, “I wanted to help you…”
“Help me?” Lin Yanzhou stood up and clapped the dirt from his hands, his tone dripping with patronizing exhaustion. “Just look after yourself first. If you end up falling sick, I’ll be the one who has to take care of you.”
Shen Zhiyi’s eyes stung, and she quickly lowered her gaze.
From the far end of the ridge came a crisp voice: “Comrade Lin! Take a break and get some water!”
Both of them looked up at the same time.
A young woman in a floral blouse was standing on the ridge, holding an army-green canteen in her hand. Two pitch-black braids hung down over her chest, and her cheeks were flushed red from the sun.
It was Li Xiufen, the daughter of production team leader Li Changjiang.
She waved at Lin Yanzhou with a bright smile. Her gaze flicked over Shen Zhiyi for a fraction of a second before casually sweeping back to Lin Yanzhou’s face.
“Comrade Lin, my dad asked me to bring you folks some water. I made sure to fill a whole extra canteen—I know you like boiled water cooled down, so I didn’t mix any unboiled water in.”
Most of the impatience on Lin Yanzhou’s face vanished in an instant.
He took the canteen, tipped his head back, and chugged a large gulp, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Thanks, Comrade Xiufen. You always think of everything.”
“Oh, don’t mention it.”
Li Xiufen smiled softly, her eyes lingering on his face. “My dad says you educated youth from the city are cultured and the pillars of our country, so we ought to take good care of you. Oh, right—my dad has a copy of People’s Literature over at our place. If you want to read it, come by tonight to pick it up.”
“Well, that’d be fantastic.” Lin Yanzhou’s eyes lit up.
The two stood on the ridge, laughing and chatting naturally.
Li Xiufen pulled a clean handkerchief from her pocket and handed it over. “Wipe off your sweat—look how hot you are.”
Lin Yanzhou paused for a second before accepting it naturally. He dabbed at his forehead and stuffed it straight into his trousers pocket. “I’ll wash it and return it to you later.”
“No need, keep it.”
Li Xiufen waved her hand dismissively, only then slowly turning toward Shen Zhiyi, who was still squatting in the dirt, as if she had only just noticed her existence. “Oh, Comrade Shen is here too? Look at my eyes, I only saw Comrade Lin just now. Do you want a drink?”
Shen Zhiyi gripped a fistful of weeds, her knuckles turning white.
She forced out a faint smile. “No, thank you.”
“Alright then, keep at it. I’m going to chat with Comrade Lin a bit more about the slots for returning to the city.”
Li Xiufen turned back around and resumed talking to Lin Yanzhou, her voice kept at a volume just loud enough for Shen Zhiyi to catch every word: “My dad said the youth with good performance will get priority recommendations during the year-end evaluations. Comrade Lin, you have such nice handwriting—my dad wants you to help write up some materials…”
Squatting under the blazing sun, listening to the two of them chatter, Shen Zhiyi felt a heavy tightness in her chest, suffocating her.
Yanzhou is just tired and in a bad mood.
He’s just… talking business with Li Xiufen.
Yet that handkerchief Lin Yanzhou had tucked into his pocket stung her eyes like a thorn.
When work wrapped up for the day, Shen Zhiyi intentionally fell behind.
She didn’t want to walk with Lin Yanzhou, nor did she want to see Li Xiufen standing on the ridge waiting for him.
She packed up her tools at a sluggish pace, waiting until almost everyone had left before dragging her heavy feet toward the village road.
“Comrade Shen!”
That familiar, honest voice echoed behind her once more.
Shen Zhiyi’s back stiffened as she turned around slowly.
Ye Youde was walking over from the other side of the ridge. His trouser legs were rolled up to his knees, his calves splattered with mud spots. Holding a tin water jug, he smiled, revealing a mouth full of yellow teeth. “Trailing behind again? Come on, I’ll walk you back. It’s on my way.”
“No need, Brother Youde, I can walk by myself.” Shen Zhiyi took half a step backward.
“Don’t stand on ceremony.” Ye Youde acted as though he hadn’t heard her refusal at all. Stepping up to her in a few quick strides, he reached out to grab the hoe from her hand. “Let me carry it for you. Look how thin you are—this thing is heavy.”
His fingers brushed across the back of her hand, his rough pads lingering for a moment.
Shen Zhiyi pulled her hand back as if burned, nearly dropping the hoe onto the dirt.
“Brother Youde, really, there’s no need. I’ll do it myself.” Her voice squeezed tight as her grip on the hoe turned white-knuckled.
The smile on Ye Youde’s face froze for a beat before settling back into his usual expression, though an indescribable glint entered his eyes. “Well… alright then, take it easy. Oh, right—tomorrow I’ll talk to the team leader for you and get you reassigned somewhere lighter so you don’t wear yourself out.”
“I wouldn’t want to trouble you, Brother Youde. I’m fine where I am.” Shen Zhiyi practically rushed the words out, gave a hurried nod, and turned to leave.
She could feel Ye Youde’s gaze glued to her back the entire time.
She walked faster and faster, practically sprinting all the way back to the educated youth residence.
That night, Shen Zhiyi tossed and turned on her hard wooden bed, unable to sleep.
She was desperately thirsty; in her rush to finish work that afternoon, she hadn’t had a single drop of water, and her throat felt like it was burning up.
Tiptoeing up, she grabbed the enamel mug by her bedside and walked to the kitchen. The water vat was empty again, so she decided to fetch a drink from the well.
The well was at the western end of the village, a fair distance from the youth residence.
The night wind blew chilly, sending a shudder through her.
An old elm tree stood beside the well platform, its shadowy branches swaying against the ground.
Shen Zhiyi lowered the rope, cranked the windlass, and heard the splashing sound of water below.
Just as she pulled the full bucket onto the ledge, a soft chuckle came from behind her:
“Comrade Shen, out here all alone this late? You’ve got quite some guts.”
Shen Zhiyi jumped violently, spilling half the bucket of water.
She spun around and saw Ye Youde stepping out from the shadows of the tree. An unlit pipe dangled from his lips, and he stared at her with a half-smile.
“B-Brother Youde?” Her voice trembled. “What are you doing here?”
“I live close by, just out for an evening stroll.”
Ye Youde took two steps closer, his gaze sweeping over her before landing on her hands clutching the enamel mug. “Fetching water? This isn’t work for a girl. Here, let me help you.”
He reached out to take the enamel mug, his fingers “accidentally” covering the back of her hand.
His palm was rough and clammy, coated in a layer of sticky sweat that pressed firmly against her skin.
Every hair on Shen Zhiyi’s body stood on end.
“No need!”
She jerked back violently. “Brother Youde, I… I’ve got my water, I’m going back now!”
She turned to flee, but Ye Youde took a swift step forward and caught her shoulder to steady her.
His heavy palm pressed down onto her shoulder, his thumb “accidentally” rubbing against her collarbone through her shirt.
“Easy now. It’s pitch-black out, don’t go falling over.”
His voice maintained that same honest tone, but his warm breath puffed against the back of her ear, carrying a pungent stench of stale tobacco and bad breath. “Comrade Shen, what are you scared of? It’s not like I’m gonna eat you.”
A wave of nausea churned violently in Shen Zhiyi’s stomach.
Suppressing the urge to vomit, she wrenched herself free from his grip and practically ran away from the well.
The enamel mug clattered wildly in her arms, splashing water all along the dirt path.
She didn’t dare look back, running in one single breath all the way to the youth residence. Leaning against the courtyard wall, she gasped frantically for air, her heart pounding as if it were about to burst right out of her chest.
She looked down at her hand—the hand Ye Youde had just touched.
She scrubbed at it frantically until her skin turned bright red and stung with a burning pain.
Crouching in the courtyard, hugging her knees, her entire body trembled uncontrollably.
Suddenly, she recalled the smile on Lin Yanzhou’s face when he took Li Xiufen’s handkerchief that afternoon. She remembered Ye Youde’s palm pressed against her skin, and thought of this unfamiliar village surrounded by towering cornfields beneath a pitch-black night sky.
Tears finally welled up and spilled over in silence.
She regretted it. Why had she insisted on following Yanzhou to the countryside?
It was one thing that rural life was exhausting and grueling, but now there were creepy, ill-intentioned eyes tracking her every move.
And Yanzhou had taken a liking to someone else.
She bit her lip tightly, refusing to let out a sob.
Back by the well, Ye Youde remained standing beneath the old elm tree.
He looked down at his hand—the hand that had just touched Shen Zhiyi.
Bringing it slowly up to his nose, he took a sniff, his lips stretching into a slow, crooked grin.
A night breeze gusted past, rustling the leaves of the old tree.
He raised his head, looking toward the window of the youth residence where a faint oil lamp flickered, and licked his dry, cracked lips.
Run?
When Ye Youde set his sights on a piece of prey, no one had ever managed to get away.