At Xiahe Production Brigade No. 1 of Wuliu Commune…
The household responsibility system was gradually being implemented, and every family now had land of its own. The villagers worked tirelessly from dawn till dusk, eager to make the most of their fields. With grain finally stored away, people no longer had to worry about going hungry, and every household cooked three proper meals a day.
Though the sun still lingered above the western mountain peaks, smoke was already rising from the chimneys throughout the village.
Only one household remained cold and silent—the Jiang family at the western edge of the village.
The Jiang family wasn’t especially large. A widowed woman had raised four sons on her own.
When she was young, Zhao Guoshi had been the women’s militia’s top marksman. Her husband, Old Jiang, had drowned while helping build a reservoir in his thirties. Hot-tempered yet straightforward by nature, she had single-handedly raised their four boys to adulthood.
Her third son had become the first person in Wuliu Commune to secure an iron rice bowl, finding work in the provincial capital and eventually settling there.
The eldest and second sons had long since married and established separate households.
Only her unmarried youngest son and her eldest grandson’s daughter—sent down from the city during the “Down to the Countryside” movement—still lived with her.
Normally the house was peaceful.
Today, however, the modest main room was packed with people.
The two daughters-in-law stood by the edge of the kang with their hands tucked into their sleeves, saying nothing.
The eldest son, second son, and twenty-year-old unmarried youngest son surrounded the honored seats, either standing or sitting, together with a middle-aged man, a middle-aged woman, and an elderly woman. All the children had been driven outside.
Everyone wore grim expressions.
It was obvious that something serious had happened.
The middle-aged man frowned as he blew out a ring of smoke. Pinching the end of his cigarette, he looked toward the elderly woman beside him.
“Old Sister-in-law, this really isn’t something honorable. Why don’t we just do as Educated Youth Song suggested?”
“Pah!”
Zhao Guoshi shot to her feet from the stool.
“Who does she think she is?”
“What gives her the right to decide?”
She stomped over to the doorway and pointed into the yard, cursing nonstop.
The brigade leader had expected resistance, but seeing Zhao Guoshi’s stubborn refusal still made his temples throb.
The woman beside him, her hair cut in the fashionable “Hulan style,” had long grown accustomed to Zhao Guoshi’s fiery temper. She walked over, slipped her arms under Zhao Guoshi’s, and practically lifted her back onto the stool.
“Sister Zhao, the brigade leader and I came today to solve this matter. If you keep making a scene, it’ll only get worse. It’ll affect the unmarried children in your family—the girls, and even your eldest grandson.”
“There are no outsiders here. Let’s think of a compromise for Jiang Lai before this blows up and everyone in the commune hears about it.”
Zhao Guoshi remained seated, wiped away a handful of tears and snot with one swipe, and flung it onto the ground.
She was anxious too.
For two nights she hadn’t slept properly, and painful fever blisters had erupted around her mouth. Just now she’d opened her mouth too wide while yelling, splitting one open.
Suppressing her anger, she growled,
“I already asked Lai-Lai. She barely exchanged a few words with Educated Youth Qin, much less did anything like that.”
“Jobs nowadays can’t be bought with money, and now you’re telling us to hand her position over to Song Tian?”
The fury she’d barely suppressed exploded once more, sending spit flying from her mouth.
The brigade leader sighed helplessly.
“Sister-in-law, you don’t understand how serious this is.”
Zhao Guoshi leaned so close their faces were almost touching. Her drooping eyelids stretched wide open with anger.
“What serious?”
“How serious?”
“Just because she says a few words, our whole Jiang family is supposed to be destroyed?”
The brigade leader silently wiped the saliva from his face and scooted his stool backward.
“Sister-in-law, watch your words.”
“Song Tian isn’t making baseless accusations. There are witnesses.”
“Liuzi and Changzi’s daughter, Mingyuan, both said they saw Jiang Lai running out of the educated youth quarters that night with her clothes in disarray.”
“And your own family admitted Jiang Lai came home very late that evening.”
“Cracking down on immoral relations is very strict now.”
“Do you really want Jiang Lai paraded through the streets wearing a placard around her neck?”
The images of public struggle sessions from years past flashed through Zhao Guoshi’s mind.
She hesitated.
But when she thought of her granddaughter’s precious chance to return to the city, she gritted her teeth.
“So what if she went out?”
“Does that prove she slept around?”
She waved both hands vigorously.
“We won’t admit it!”
“We absolutely won’t!”
“If you want to accuse someone of adultery, catch them in the act!”
“You caught nothing.”
“Why should we admit to something we didn’t do?”
“And besides…”
“What does any of this have to do with Song Tian?”
She jabbed a finger toward the brigade leader.
“You’re the brigade leader of our brigade!”
“You’re Jiang Lai’s own grand-uncle!”
“Instead of protecting your own people, you’re helping outsiders bully your own family!”
The brigade leader patiently explained,
“Sister-in-law, you’ve misunderstood me.”
“They have witnesses.”
“If this reaches the commune, not only will my entire year’s work evaluation be ruined, but if Jiang Lai really gets convicted…”
“…her life will be finished.”
“Catching adulterers requires evidence!”
“The radio says so now!”
A thin young man standing behind suddenly chimed in,
“Free love.”
“Free marriage.”
“Bullshit!”
“Didn’t I already say Lai-Lai never dated that Educated Youth Qin?”
“You all know how well-behaved my Lai-Lai is.”
“She’d never do something so disgraceful.”
“As for that job…”
“Song Tian can forget about it!”
The brigade leader let out a long sigh.
“Sister-in-law…”
“Song Tian has made herself very clear.”
“If Jiang Lai transfers the job to her, she’ll pretend she saw nothing.”
“But if she refuses…”
“…she’ll report Jiang Lai to the commune for immoral conduct.”
“When that happens, Jiang Lai will be paraded through the streets.”
“Her reputation will be completely ruined.”
“Mother!”
The second son’s wife, half-reclining on the kang, burst into tears.
“Fenfen is about to get engaged, and Xiaoping is still young.”
“If the in-laws hear about something like this…”
“…how will they ever look our daughters in the eye again?”
Jiang Lai jerked awake.
She had dreamed she had become Jiang Lai—the cannon-fodder daughter from the novel The Little Sweetheart of the Seventies.
While reading the novel, she had deeply sympathized with the tragic fate of the Jiang family.
She had even left the author a lengthy negative review analyzing every member’s miserable ending.
The author had replied almost instantly:
“Since you like the Jiang family so much, why don’t you experience their lives yourself?”
She hadn’t taken it seriously.
She closed her phone and went to sleep.
Now…
Staring at the yellow earthen walls before her, she felt dazed.
Could it really have become reality?
Looking around the unfamiliar room, she cursed under her breath before quickly closing her eyes, hoping to wake from the dream.
She waited.
Nothing happened.
The earthen house had poor soundproofing.
Voices drifted clearly from the neighboring room.
“Enough, enough!”
“Aren’t we discussing it already?”
“Why are you still crying?”
The unfamiliar voices made her heart sink.
After eight or nine years as an overworked corporate employee, she’d finally climbed from an ordinary office worker to Design Director.
The stress had made her increasingly irritable, and her doctor had advised her to move somewhere quieter.
She had only recently bought a detached villa with triple-glazed soundproof windows.
There was no way she could hear arguments this clearly if she were home.
Her eyes flew open.
The yellow mud walls remained.
Had the author’s joke really come true?
Ignoring the throbbing in her head, she hurriedly slipped on the cloth shoes beside the bed.
The moment she stood, darkness swam before her eyes and a loud ringing filled her ears.
After resting for quite a while, she finally steadied herself.
She pushed open the old wooden door.
The courtyard was spacious.
To the west stood two bamboo-fenced livestock pens.
The packed-earth yard looked unmistakably rustic.
Staggering toward the room where the voices came from, she stopped at the doorway, staring blankly at the unfamiliar crowd inside.
The noisy argument ceased instantly.
Seeing her pale face, Zhao Guoshi hurried over.
“Lai-Lai!”
“Why are you up?”
“Are you hungry?”
“Grandma will fry you an egg and make you some brown sugar water.”
“Lai-Lai…”
The familiar nickname sent a tingling sensation from the top of Jiang Lai’s head all the way to her toes.
She didn’t recognize this elderly woman.
Yet the woman called her by her childhood nickname so naturally.
Could she really have become the Jiang Lai from that novel?
The story had centered on Song Wenwen’s sweet romance, career, and the Song family.
There wasn’t much about Jiang Lai herself.
But the Jiang family from the provincial capital had been described in considerable detail.
As neighbors to the protagonist’s family—and as cannon fodder—Jiang Jianshe’s family had sent their newborn daughter back to the countryside during the famine of 1961 because food was scarce.
She was raised by her grandmother.
The next time Jiang Lai appeared in the novel was in the autumn of 1979.
Zhao Guoshi had spent one thousand yuan to buy her granddaughter a receptionist position at the textile factory guesthouse.
After the eldest daughter-in-law found out, she caused an enormous scene.
She took her husband and young son back to her parents’ home.
Not long afterward, Jiang Lai’s eldest brother lost his right arm in a workplace accident and became permanently disabled.
Meanwhile, Jiang Lai never returned to the city.
She married Educated Youth Qin in the village instead.
The job her family had bought ended up in Song Tian’s hands.
The Jiang family’s thousand yuan became the Song family’s opportunity.
The third and final mention of Jiang Lai came in February 1981.
One morning, the Jiang family received an urgent telegram and rushed back to the countryside.
Only then did they learn…
Jiang Lai had been beaten to death by her husband.
Among the entire Jiang family, she had suffered the most tragic ending.
Because they shared the same name, Jiang Lai had always felt more attached to the Jiang family than to the novel’s heroine.
“Lai-Lai.”
Seeing her granddaughter’s frail appearance, Zhao Guoshi’s heart ached.
Back when her daughter-in-law had first brought the baby home, she’d been a chubby little girl.
Even during the famine years, Zhao Guoshi had managed to keep her well-fed.
Now, after barely two days, she’d become so thin her large eyes looked even bigger.
Hearing the old woman’s careful voice, Jiang Lai slowly let out a breath.
She glanced around the room.
This should be the moment when Song Tian threatened the original Jiang Lai to surrender the city job.
In the novel, the entire incident had been summarized in only a few sentences.
The author had sacrificed Jiang Lai’s future—and eventually her life—simply to send Song Tian back to the city and establish her ruthless personality as a foil for the heroine.
Now that she had become Jiang Lai…
She would never allow the Jiang family to be destroyed merely to make someone else’s sweet romance shine brighter.
Unlike many transmigration protagonists, she hadn’t inherited the original owner’s memories.
Her mind was completely blank.
Looking toward the brigade leader seated at the head of the room, she spoke clearly.
“Brigade Leader…”
“I’ve decided.”
“I’m reporting this to the police.”
“Let the Public Security Bureau handle it.”
The brigade leader stared at her in astonishment.
His voice softened.
“Lai-Lai…”
“If this gets out of hand, it’ll ruin your reputation.”
Jiang Lai felt an invisible weight pressing against her chest.
Her throat was hoarse.
“I didn’t do it.”
“So why should I admit to it?”
The instant she finished speaking, the suffocating pressure in her chest suddenly eased.
Perhaps…
That had been what the original Jiang Lai wanted to say all along.
She simply hadn’t dared.
Although she had declared she wanted to call the police, no one moved.
Nor did anyone openly oppose her.
They simply looked at her with expressions that suggested they thought it was a bad idea.
Her gaze shifted toward the young man standing in the corner.
“Uncle Minghai.”
“Ride your bicycle to the commune—or the county.”
“Bring the police.”
“Tell them someone is trying to rob me of my future…”
“…and force me to my death.”
Jiang Minghai was Zhao Guoshi’s youngest son, ten years older than Jiang Lai.
He had practically raised her.
Among everyone in the village, aside from Zhao Guoshi herself, he loved Jiang Lai the most.
Seeing how much weight she’d lost in only two days, his heart had already been aching.
Hearing her words, he silently turned and walked toward the door.
The brigade leader hurriedly shouted after him,
“Hey… Minghai!”
“Don’t act rashly!”