Shen Zhiyi did not step out of her door until the sky had turned pitch-black.
She had checked her bag three times to be sure: a tin of malted milk powder, a bag of White Rabbit creamy candies, a small sack of refined white flour, two cuts of Dacron fabric, and a thick stack of nationwide food coupons.
In the city, these items hardly amounted to a fortune, but inside this dilapidated brick cottage, they felt as heavy as gold bullion.
Hugging the walls for cover, she made her way toward the west end of the village.
The night breeze was crisp and chilly, raising goosebumps on the back of her neck. She was afraid of the dark, afraid of the rustling deep in the tall miscanthus grass, and even more terrified that a hand might suddenly reach out from behind her.
Yet if she did not knock on that door tonight, she would not survive this spring.
Standing before the battered wooden door, her heart pounded as if it were about to leap out of her throat. She was gambling on the pair of eyes she had seen earlier that day when she offered her handkerchief—calm, clear, lacking both the greasy sleaziness of Ye Youde and the cold impatience of Lin Yanzhou.
She rapped her knuckles against the door, her voice trembling. “Ye Yu… it’s me, Shen Zhiyi.”
Silence fell inside the room for a moment.
Then, with a creak, the door swung open.
Ye Yu stood in the dim doorway, wearing a coarse cloth jacket covered in patches. Moonlight spilled in from behind her, outlining her slender, sharp silhouette.
She looked Shen Zhiyi up and down, her gaze landing on the bulging bundle clutched against her chest, her brows knitting together.
“It’s the middle of the night. What are you running around over here for?”
Ye Yu stepped aside to let her in, inwardly baffled.
This girl seems smart enough—how can she be so reckless? In times like these, an unmarried female educated youth knocking on a man’s door in the dead of night would be utterly ruined if word got out.
Shen Zhiyi crossed the threshold and carefully set the bundle onto a wooden table missing one leg.
A single kerosene lamp burned inside, its flame no larger than a pea. The faint yellow light cast their shadows long against the walls.
Ye Yu dragged over a rickety bench and sat down. “Something on your mind?”
Shen Zhiyi stood by the table, twisting the hem of her shirt so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Taking a deep breath, she untied the bundle.
The malted milk, the creamy candies, the white flour, the fabric, and the food coupons were displayed one by one, glinting beneath the lamp’s warm light.
Ye Yu’s gaze landed on the bag of candies, her throat moving imperceptibly.
“I… I noticed you work really hard in the fields,” Shen Zhiyi whispered, keeping her head low, her voice barely louder than a mosquito’s buzz. “And you’re… a good person. I want to… marry…”
She froze. The tips of her ears burned bright red. The final word stuck in her throat, impossible to force out.
Ye Yu looked at her, then down at the pile on the table, and sudden understanding dawned on her.
She straightened up abruptly, her bench legs scraping against the dirt floor with a harsh screech.
“You want to marry me?”
Shen Zhiyi bit her lip and nodded, tears welling up in her eyes.
Ye Yu’s mind went blank, and she instinctively took a half-step back.
She hadn’t been deaf to the village rumors over the past two days, but she had assumed the girl would at least go to the brigade leader, the Women’s Federation director, or any respectable young man in the village.
She never expected her to come running to the house of a local “ne’er-do-well” in the middle of the night, bringing all her earthly possessions just to propose.
“You…” Ye Yu rasped out, her voice dry. “You don’t need to do this. If things are tough for you, you can ask the village for help. Go to the party secretary, go to…”
“Go to who?” Shen Zhiyi looked up sharply, cutting her off.
She let out a soft laugh devoid of joy—only the bitter resignation of someone crushed by reality.
“Ye Yu, you’re being too naive.”
Ye Yu choked on her words.
She had survived ten years in the post-apocalyptic wasteland, killing more zombies than she had ever seen living people. But this wasn’t the apocalypse; this was the 1970s, where killing meant paying with your life.
She possessed all the lethal skills in the world, yet she was trapped in the body of a village slacker, nearly starving to death herself.
Looking at Shen Zhiyi’s reddened eyes, Ye Yu suddenly realized that it wasn’t she who was naive—it was this era’s crushing weight on the weak that had backed this girl into a dead end.
Silence settled over the room, broken only by the faint popping of the lamp wick.
Seeing her fall silent, Shen Zhiyi thought she was considering it and hurriedly stepped forward, her voice laced with desperation. “My family sends me care packages every month—malted milk powder, milk candy, biscuits, everything. If… if you marry me, I can share all of it with you. You’ll never have to buy grain on credit again, and you won’t have to go hungry. I…”
Her words came faster and faster.
Just then, Ye Yu’s stomach let out a glaringly ill-timed rumble.
Gurgle
The sound echoed loudly in the quiet mud-brick room.
Shen Zhiyi paused, then flurried into action, hastily unwrapping the bag of White Rabbit candies.
The bag opened, spilling out individually wrapped candies that gleamed bright white under the lamplight.
She picked one up and offered it to Ye Yu, as if coaxing a child. “Here… eat a candy first.”
Ye Yu looked at the candy, then at Shen Zhiyi’s slightly trembling hands, and suddenly let out a dry, exasperated laugh.
She took the candy but didn’t eat it right away. Twirling it between her fingers, she sighed softly. “Has nobody ever taught you that a girl shouldn’t treat a man this well?”
Shen Zhiyi froze, the color draining from her face instantly.
She was suddenly reminded of Lin Yanzhou’s harsh words—how he complained he couldn’t shake her off.
Humiliation washed over her like a tide. She lowered her head, gripping her shirt hem tightly as her shoulders trembled.
Ye Yu realized immediately that she had said the wrong thing.
Looking at the girl’s shaken posture, a gentle pang touched somewhere deep in her chest.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” she muttered awkwardly after a long pause. “I just meant… a girl shouldn’t be too good to a man.”
She peeled open the edible rice paper of the candy and popped it into her mouth.
The rich, milky flavor dissolved on her tongue. It was almost sickly sweet, yet it surprisingly managed to soothe her irritation.
Shen Zhiyi lifted her head, her eyes red and filled with a faint confusion.
Ye Yu averted her gaze, staring at the shadow thrown onto the floor by the lamp, and added stiffly, “It makes it too easy for people to take advantage of you.”
Silence fell once more.
Looking at Ye Yu’s awkward side profile, Shen Zhiyi suddenly felt that the person standing before her was quite different from the rumors about the village slacker—and different, too, from the silent laborer working the fields.
Sniffling quietly, she asked in a small voice, “So… are you willing?”
Ye Yu chewed the candy, swallowed it, and sat back down on the bench.
She tapped her fingers against the tabletop, her eyes darkening as if she were weighing a major tactical decision.
“Marriage is out of the question,” she said, her tone cool and measured. “But there is another way.”
Shen Zhiyi tightened her grip on her shirt hem.
“A fake marriage,” Ye Yu said, meeting her eyes and pacing out each word. “To the outside world, we say it’s real. We get a letter of permission from the production brigade and register for a marriage certificate at the commune. Ye Youde won’t dare harass you out in the open anymore, and it’ll shut up the village gossip. Once things blow over, or when you get the chance to return to the city, we’ll find a way to get divorced.”
Shen Zhiyi’s eyes lit up, only to dim again a moment later. “But what if someone finds out it’s fake and reports us…?”
“That’s why we can’t leave anything in writing,” Ye Yu cut in. “If anyone gets their hands on black-and-white proof, it becomes evidence of ‘improper male-female relations.’ This stays strictly between you and me.”
Shen Zhiyi bit her lip and nodded firmly. “I trust you.”
Looking at the desperate spark of hope in her eyes, Ye Yu felt a sudden weight settle on her shoulders.
She stood up, walked over to the door, and pressed her ear against the wooden planks to listen.
Just outside the courtyard wall, that deliberately hushed breathing was still there, accompanied by the smell of dry pipe tobacco mixed with sour sweat wafting through the cracks in the door.
Ye Youde.
Did he… follow her all the way here?
Ye Yu straightened up, a glint of cold sharpness flashing across her eyes.
She turned back to glance at Shen Zhiyi, then deliberately raised her voice so it carried clearly past the door:
“Alright, I agree. Tomorrow morning, I’ll ask the brigade leader for time off so we can go to the commune to get the paperwork done. Once all the procedures are settled, you can move in.”
Shen Zhiyi blinked in surprise, but quickly caught on and nodded along.
Ye Yu pulled the door open. A gust of night wind rushed in, making the kerosene lamp flicker.
“I’ll walk you back.”
“No need, I can…”
“I wasn’t asking,” Ye Yu interrupted, her tone leaving no room for argument. “I’m walking you back.”
Without giving her a chance to refuse, she hoisted the heavy bundle with one hand and placed her other hand lightly behind Shen Zhiyi’s back, guiding her out the door.
The moonlight washed the dirt path in a pale, ghostly light.
Ye Yu walked closely alongside Shen Zhiyi, keeping an even pace and shielding her on the side furthest from the cornfields.
Her eyes remained locked on the waist-high wild wormwood bushes lining the road, her hand hanging at her side, ready to strike at a moment’s notice.
Hidden inside the wormwood patch, Ye Youde crouched on the ground, his face dark with fury. He clenched his fists until his nails dug deep into his palms, but he didn’t dare make a move.
As Ye Yu passed the bushes, she swept a cold, piercing glance in his direction.
It was only when they reached the entrance of the educated youth quarters that Shen Zhiyi finally let out a breath of relief.
She turned around, but Ye Yu simply stuffed the bundle back into her arms and murmured, “Go inside and sleep. Don’t be late tomorrow.”
Holding the package that still retained Ye Yu’s body warmth, Shen Zhiyi stood at the gateway, watching the slender figure melt back into the night.
She suddenly felt that perhaps she hadn’t lost this desperate gamble after all.