During the day, she stayed at home with her grandmother. Her father, Qiao Heping; mother, He Yingying; and grandfather, Qiao Qiusheng, all worked at the largest steel mill in the provincial capital and would usually get off work around five o’clock.
On Sundays, the whole family was off work. They lived in a Tongzilou, and it was now 1956—the year when grain coupons and cloth coupons had just begun to be used.
Qiao Jiajia had long since pieced together these basic details from her family’s daily conversations.
There was a large wall clock hanging in the house. It looked quite old-fashioned, but its large face made it easy for Qiao Jiajia to read the time even from a distance.
She looked up at the clock and saw it was already five.
“When will Grandpa be back?” Perhaps because her language skills were still developing, Qiao Jiajia could only speak in short sentences at this age. Longer sentences were still a bit difficult for her. Of course, with some effort, she could manage them, but speaking at length was tiring, so she didn’t bother trying too hard.
Qiao Zhufang carefully placed her precious granddaughter on a bamboo chair, then dipped a clean cloth into warm water, wrung it out, and gently wiped the little girl’s face before answering, “Grandpa should be home soon. When he came back for lunch at noon, he said he might get off work a bit earlier this afternoon.”
“What about Dad and Mom?” Qiao Jiajia asked again.
As soon as the words left her granddaughter’s mouth, Qiao Zhufang replied, “Your parents are going to Hejia Village after work today—that’s your maternal grandmother’s home. They should be back by evening.”
A one-year-old child was at a critical stage of learning to speak. Qiao Zhufang often spent time talking with her precious granddaughter, and now that the little one was asking questions, she certainly wouldn’t brush them off. No matter how much the child could understand, she answered carefully and thoroughly.
Her patience with her granddaughter seemed endless—a trait she had learned from her own mother.
Her husband had married into her family, and her mother was the child’s grandmother. In her generation, people married early. She was only sixteen when she gave birth to her son, Qiao Heping, and didn’t yet know how to care for a child. It was her mother and her wet nurse who helped raise him.
Her mother was exceptionally patient with her grandson, Qiao Heping. She even personally taught him to read and write, which was quite different from the rough-and-tumble upbringing common in other village families. This likely had something to do with her mother’s background.
Her mother was the daughter of a scholar. However, her scholar father later became addicted to opium, and the family fell into decline, enduring a period of hardship. Fortunately, she had been betrothed in childhood to a well-known wealthy merchant’s family. After many years of marriage, they finally had a daughter—her.
Later, her mother never gave birth to a son, and neither did her father’s concubines. Her father then planned to adopt a male heir from his hometown, but before he could, an accident occurred. He was caught in a street shootout, carried home, and died.
The people from his hometown were not easy to deal with. Her mother had only her, an only daughter, and no other relatives. Isolated and helpless, staying there would have meant being swallowed up by those from her father’s hometown.
After overhearing those people plotting to kill both her and her mother, her mother decided to flee with her and the wet nurse before the entire group from the hometown could arrive.
The three of them were all women, and the world outside was in utter chaos. People died every day in the city, and various factions fought endlessly for power.
Later, her mother happened to save the only son of the Hejia Village clan leader. The geographical location of Hejia Village was also quite favorable—when soldiers came from outside, they could hide in the mountains. The terrain was complex and safe, and the clan leader of Hejia Village was a good man.
In the end, her mother changed her surname, abandoning the cheap father’s name, and she took her mother’s surname instead. Then, posing as refugees, her mother and wet nurse settled in Hejia Village. The wet nurse pretended to be her aunt, since poor families wouldn’t have a wet nurse.
After a few years, once they had firmly established themselves in Hejia Village, around the 1920s, another wave of famine refugees arrived. Her mother bought a child-bridegroom from among them. At sixteen, she married the child-bridegroom, Qiao Qiusheng, and gave birth to their son, Qiao Heping, the following year.
At that time, her mother and wet nurse had only her as their child. She was still young, and both doted on her, so her son, Qiao Heping, was practically raised single-handedly by her mother and wet nurse.
Thinking back to those days, Qiao Zhufang couldn’t help but smile. However, too much time had passed. Her son had grown up, she now had a granddaughter, and both her mother and wet nurse had passed away. Still, she had begun learning from her mother’s example, helping her son raise his granddaughter.
Meanwhile, on the other side, Grandpa Qiao Qiusheng was walking briskly home, carrying a bag of eggs and several aluminum lunchboxes. The eggs at home had run out, and since he got off work early today, he stopped by the grocery store on the way to buy a pound of eggs.
Starting last year, purchasing grain, cloth, and oil required ration coupons. Fortunately, eggs didn’t require coupons yet, so the family basically bought them whenever they ran out.
Granddaughter Jiajia was about to turn one and was almost weaned. She could already eat some solid foods, with eggs being the most common. She loved steamed egg custard the most.
Qiao Qiusheng had only one granddaughter, Qiao Jiajia. Along with her grandmother and parents, the family of four doted on her endlessly. How could they possibly begrudge her good food?
In other households, eggs were a rare treat, reserved for holidays and special occasions. But in their home, eggs were never in short supply. They made steamed egg custard for their granddaughter almost every other day, only skipping days occasionally to avoid her getting tired of it.
Qiao Qiusheng, his son, and daughter-in-law were all factory workers. They had to work during the day and couldn’t stay home to care for the child, so his wife was now at home looking after their granddaughter.
Originally, his wife—the grandmother—was also a factory worker, serving meals in the staff canteen. But she had long said that once her granddaughter was born, she would help take care of the child and stop working at the factory. She simply couldn’t bear to send her granddaughter to the factory’s nursery.
Her son and daughter-in-law had been married for six years before finally having this child, and the whole family treasured her dearly. Sending her to the nursery would only make them worry constantly about something going wrong.
After all, there were quite a few children in the nursery, and most importantly, they were all very young. Older children, around three or four years old, were sent to the factory’s kindergarten.
Most of the children in the nursery were around one or two years old, some even just a few months old. They were barely able to take care of themselves, so the nursery staff naturally had to put in a lot of effort to look after them.
On top of that, there weren’t enough staff members, and it was hard to attend to every detail in daily care. It was certain that the care couldn’t compare to the meticulous attention given at home. It was common for a room full of children to be crying and fussing, leaving the staff with no free hands to comfort any one child. They could only wait for the children to cry themselves out.
Because of this, even before the child was born, Qiao Zhufang, the grandmother, had already made the decision: once the child arrived, she would absolutely not send them to a nursery. Instead, she would take care of them herself at home.
Qiao Zhufang had experienced a period of wealth in her childhood, with several wet nurses and maids attending to her alone, ensuring meticulous care.
When her son, Qiao Heping, was born, the family also had four people looking after him. Even though they lived in the countryside of Hejia Village with poor living conditions, he was still raised with great care.
Now it was her granddaughter’s turn, and she was a girl at that. How could Qiao Zhufang bear to raise her roughly?
Moreover, Qiao Zhufang felt she wasn’t old at all and was perfectly capable of taking care of her granddaughter at home.
Although she was already a grandmother, she had just turned forty this year. This was because people married early back then—many married at fourteen or fifteen. She had married at sixteen, which was considered late for that era.
Qiao Qiusheng had initially disagreed. It wasn’t about the factory wages—money wasn’t an issue for the family—but he was concerned for his wife. Taking care of a child was no easy task, especially a newborn, which required a lot of energy and was far more exhausting than his wife’s previous job.
Qiao Qiusheng couldn’t bear to see his wife overworked, but his son and daughter-in-law were still young and at a stage where they needed to focus on their careers. It wasn’t feasible for them to quit their jobs to take care of the child.
After all, at that time, entering a factory required three years as an apprentice before becoming a regular worker, with gradual promotions afterward. If they quit, they’d have to start all over again.
His solution was to hire a relative from the countryside to help, offering a monthly payment. With everyone in the family working at the factory, their combined wages exceeded two hundred yuan, so hiring someone wasn’t a financial burden.
However, plans often change unexpectedly. Who would have thought that their granddaughter Jiajia would be exceptionally easy to care for? She never cried all night or caused any trouble, requiring far less attention than her father, Qiao Heping, had as a child. Moreover, his wife insisted on taking care of the granddaughter herself and refused to hire help. It was only then that Qiao Qiusheng gave up on the idea of bringing in a relative to assist.
Nevertheless, the whole family was in sync. No matter how easy it was to care for the child, they never left all the responsibility on Qiao Zhufang, the grandmother.
In the past, after work, they might have lingered outside before heading home. But now, with thoughts of home, how could they have the heart to wander? Qiao Qiusheng, along with his son and daughter-in-law, rushed straight home after work.
At this moment, thinking of his wife and granddaughter waiting at home for dinner, Qiao Qiusheng quickened his pace. His wife already had her hands full taking care of their granddaughter, so cooking naturally shouldn’t fall on her. Usually, he, his son, and daughter-in-law brought meals back from the factory canteen.
Sometimes they cooked at home, with him taking charge. Having grown up with his wife, he knew exactly what she liked to eat.
On the way, he ran into someone from the factory, a workshop worker named Wu Dazhi. Spotting Qiao Qiusheng, Wu Dazhi immediately hurried over from a distance, calling out as he approached:
“Master Qiao, congratulations! Being rated as a Grade 8 Fitter, you’re truly the top in our factory.” After saying this, he gave a thumbs-up, his words tinged with flattery.
Qiao Qiusheng didn’t react much, simply offering a perfunctory reply: “It’s nothing, all thanks to the Party and the organization’s cultivation.”
Qiao Qiusheng wasn’t familiar with Wu Dazhi; they only saw each other often in the workshop, recognizing each other by face. He didn’t plan to stop and chat for long, especially since besides the eggs, he was carrying several lunchboxes, having just picked up food from the factory canteen and hurrying home. If he delayed too long, the food would get cold.
But Wu Dazhi didn’t notice Qiao Qiusheng’s urgency to get home and continued eagerly, “Well, my son in the workshop will need your help looking after him in the future.
Master Qiao, you’re the best fitter in our factory. I see you’re not taking on any apprentices now, so you must have plenty of time. I’ll have him come to you with any questions he can’t figure out—he’ll improve quickly for sure! I heard your granddaughter is about to have her first birthday celebration, right? I’ll come too and give the child a big red envelope?”
Not being close to Wu Dazhi, Qiao Qiusheng didn’t care about his red envelope and waved his hand to refuse directly, “No need for a red envelope. We’re not close, it’s just a simple birthday celebration.”
Hearing Qiao Qiusheng say no red envelope was needed, Wu Dazhi breathed a sigh of relief, feeling pleased inside. He hadn’t actually intended to give one anyway; it was just a way to start a conversation.
If he had to give the money, he’d feel a pang, after all, he wasn’t like Master Qiao with such a high monthly salary—over a hundred yuan, even a bit more than the factory director!
But before he could finish feeling happy, Qiao Qiusheng added, “As for your son, Comrade Wu, if he has any questions in the future, he should ask the master assigned to him, not come to me. He must follow the organization’s arrangements, or things will get messy.”
Wu Dazhi felt somewhat deflated hearing this. He’d long known Master Qiao had a bad temper but had still come over hoping to get close by chance—what if it worked?
Now, feeling a bit resentful after being rejected, he turned to leave while muttering, “Hmph, you’re a master craftsman, skilled and with a big temper. It seems an ordinary worker like me can’t ask Master Qiao for help. Master Cheng has a much better temper, no wonder he’s so well-liked!”
“Oh, Master Cheng does have a good temper. You should go to him. What I teach, your son wouldn’t understand anyway.” Qiao Qiusheng spoke bluntly; he wasn’t one to indulge anyone.
Qiao Qiusheng’s good temper was reserved only for his family. At home, he was the gentlest person, but with outsiders, his temper was never what you’d call good.
Take this Wu Dazhi, for example—didn’t he have any idea what level his son was at? As a newly promoted Grade 1 worker from apprentice status, he hadn’t even fully grasped what his own master taught him. How could he understand what Qiao Qiusheng, a Grade 8 worker, would teach?
Besides, if all the Grade 1 workers in the factory came running to Qiao Qiusheng with questions, he might as well spend his whole day just teaching Grade 1 workers and do nothing else.
What was the point of the factory assigning masters to those young workers? Wasn’t it precisely to guide them?
If someone came to Qiao Qiusheng with a technical question that even their own master couldn’t answer, he was more than happy to help. But for anything else? They could get lost. Qiao Qiusheng wasn’t that idle—an eighth-grade worker had no business spending his days playing master to first-grade apprentices. Unless it was his own son or a close relative, why would he bother with such a burden?
Having shaken off Wu Dazhi, Qiao Qiusheng quickened his pace toward home. Along the way, nearly every factory worker he passed greeted him warmly. Not that he was particularly popular—the reason for their enthusiasm was simple:
Since last year, the “eight-grade wage system” had been implemented, and just a month ago, he had been rated as an eighth-grade worker. His monthly salary was now 126 yuan, higher even than the factory director’s. Eighth-grade workers in the factory could be counted on one hand, and as for Grade 8 Fitters, he was the only one.
At a time when most people earned only thirty or forty yuan a month, his salary was undeniably high, placing him among the top earners in the factory.
Over the past month, many had come to borrow money, but Qiao Qiusheng had only one answer for all of them: no.
If those he barely knew had the nerve to ask for a loan, he had no qualms about refusing outright. He didn’t need to be like Master Cheng, who spent his days building cliques and currying favor instead of honing his skills. Why should he worry about offending people by turning them down?
In Qiao Qiusheng’s eyes, skill was what truly mattered. As long as he had his expertise, no matter what others thought of him, they had to respectfully address him as “Master Qiao” when they saw him at the factory. As the only Grade 8 Fitter in the plant, he had every right to say so.
Just a few days earlier, the factory director had discussed with him the possibility of taking on two more apprentices, to be selected from among the fourth- or fifth-grade workers. The details hadn’t been finalized yet, of course, and the news hadn’t been made public—it was still under consideration. Otherwise, he might already have people knocking on his door trying to pull strings!
The earlier incident hadn’t bothered Qiao Qiusheng in the slightest. After work, his mind was entirely on matters at home.
“Ah Mei, the factory canteen made braised fish today. I brought some back, and it’s still warm. You eat—I’ll watch Jiajia,” Qiao Qiusheng said, placing a bag of eggs in the cupboard, setting the lunchbox on the table, and then scooping up his granddaughter.
“Jiajia isn’t fussy. Come sit and eat with us, Ah Ge, or the food will get cold,” Qiao Zhufang urged. When her husband didn’t move, she added, “Hurry up, or I won’t eat either.”
Qiao Qiusheng smiled and nodded. But instead of sitting right away, he pulled the small bamboo crib from near the window over to the table, placing it beside his chair. He carefully settled his granddaughter Jiajia inside, making sure she remained within his sight. Only then did he pick up his chopsticks to eat.
Though both were already grandparents, they were still quite young—just over forty—and their affection for each other remained as strong as ever.
Sitting in her little bamboo crib, Qiao Jiajia tilted her head, looking at her grandfather, then at her grandmother, and broke into a smile.
She believed her grandfather and grandmother were deeply in love, which was evident from the way they addressed each other. Grandfather called Grandmother “Amei,” while Grandmother called him “Age.” Such terms of endearment, especially at their age and in this era, were truly intimate.
However, after months of observation, Qiao Jiajia noticed that her grandparents only used “Age” and “Amei” in private. When her parents were around, they addressed each other as “Qiusheng” and “Zhufang,” formal and proper. Perhaps adults felt too shy to show affection in front of their children.
As for why they didn’t hide it from her? It was likely because she was only one year old. Her grandparents probably thought she was too young to understand, so there was no need to conceal the little intimacies that belonged solely to them as a couple.
Qiao Jiajia’s reasoning was sound, though not entirely accurate.
Qiao Qiusheng and Qiao Zhufang, a couple who had spent most of their lives together, were indeed deeply in love. This was evident from the fact that they had called each other “Age” and “Amei” for nearly thirty years without change. However, in the beginning, these terms of endearment did not stem from marital affection.
Both Qiao Qiusheng and Qiao Zhufang shared the surname Qiao, not because they were originally from the same family, but because Qiao Qiusheng was a live-in son-in-law—a Child-bridegroom—who had taken on the Qiao surname.
He had come to the Qiao family when they were both still children. Back then, he called her “Amei,” and she called him “Age.” And so, it remained for thirty years.
In Qiao Qiusheng’s heart, even though they had married, grown up, weathered so many years together, and now even had a granddaughter, Qiao Zhufang would always be the soft-hearted “Amei” he had met as a child, someone he would protect for a lifetime.
Qiao Jiajia was only one year old, and adults wouldn’t bother telling such things to a child so young. Naturally, she had no idea that her grandparents were childhood sweethearts and that her grandfather had been a Child-bridegroom.
“Has Jiajia had her milk formula this afternoon? If not, I’ll feed her some of this minced meat porridge. I asked Old Sun to prepare it specially.”
The aluminum lunchbox contained porridge, and Qiao Qiusheng had carried it carefully all the way, ensuring not a drop was spilled.
“She had some, about three hours ago when I fed her. But she’s been practicing walking this afternoon, so she should be hungry again by now,” Qiao Zhufang replied.
Hearing this, Qiao Qiusheng naturally took on the task of feeding his granddaughter. He ladled the minced meat porridge from the lunchbox into two small bowls, pushing one toward his wife and carefully feeding the other to his granddaughter, Jiajia.
At just one year old, although Jiajia could eat things other than milk formula, she couldn’t have too much. Her diet was still primarily formula-based. The porridge Qiao Qiusheng had brought back was more than she could finish, so it was divided into two bowls—one for her and one for her grandmother.
Author’s Note:
Recommending a similar-themed era novel from my column for pre-order.
Please add to your collection.
“The Only Daughter of the Nineties”
After a car accident, Chu Yinghua was reborn into the 1990s.
As the only daughter of a dual-income family in a small county town, Chu Yinghua was doted on from childhood by her parents, grandparents, and maternal grandparents—six adults who cherished her like a treasure.
Fortunately, Chu Yinghua wasn’t truly a child, otherwise, being pampered like this, she would have likely grown into a spoiled brat.
However, she noticed something off about her father—he seemed a bit too virtuous.
“Housework is a man’s duty, dear wife, you should rest.”
“Let me take care of Yinghua; how could I let you, my wife, handle the child!”
“My wife is so wonderful, not minding my overly heroic demeanor and marrying me.”
“Ah, a daughter is wonderful! Having given birth to a daughter, I can finally feel worthy of my wife.”
Later, Chu Yinghua learned that her father had actually come from a Female-Dominant World.