When they arrived at the Zheng family home today, Grandpa and Grandma Zheng, along with the uncles and elders, were all present. Upon hearing the purpose of Mother Yang and Sister Zhang’s visit, the whole Zheng family was pleased—who would have thought that the usually well-behaved Zheng Yuyin would run out and declare she didn’t want the marriage?
Zheng Yuyin’s father was the director of a flour mill, a man of some standing who cared deeply about his reputation. A couple of days earlier, his younger daughter had mentioned she didn’t like Yang Wenping, but he assumed it was just a little girl’s fleeting whim that would pass in a few days, so he told Mother Zheng to talk her around. When his daughter didn’t bring it up again, he assumed the matter was settled.
Who knew his younger daughter would become so bold—today, in front of the whole family, she ran out and declared, “I’d rather die than marry him!” Director Zheng’s face turned livid with anger.
Mother Yang and the matchmaker, Sister Zhang, looked deeply embarrassed. Mother Zheng’s sisters-in-law hurriedly offered awkward explanations and dragged Zheng Yuyin back into her room to talk some sense into her.
After a long while, Zheng Yuyin, not daring to reveal the truth, stubbornly clung to one line: “If you make me marry, I’ll hang myself.” When the Zheng women couldn’t persuade her, they turned instead to the matter of Yang Wenping’s job, their words all amounting to the same thing: so what if he went to college? He didn’t even have a decent job.
Mother Yang had a sharp tongue but a soft heart. In the end, her kindness prevailed, and she didn’t directly bring up Zheng Yuyin’s pregnancy, sparing the young girl’s dignity.
But she never expected that after leaving herself this room for maneuver, the Zheng family would turn the tables and start criticizing her own son instead. Naturally, Mother Yang couldn’t swallow this, and she began arguing back and forth with the Zheng women—which was exactly the scene Yang Yuan had overheard outside the door.
At this moment, the Zheng household was dead silent. Director Zheng and everyone in the family wore grim expressions, while the onlookers outside watched with great relish and enthusiasm.
Old Master Zheng, who had been sitting on the sofa smoking his pipe the whole time, coughed and stood up. “It’s getting late, and it’s cold out with the snow. Everyone should head home for dinner. Wenping is a good boy. Even if we can’t become in-laws with the Yang family, we can still be friends. Let’s all disperse.”
Old Master Zheng was highly respected in the neighborhood. With things said to this point, the people outside couldn’t keep watching, and they drifted away in twos and threes, chatting as they went.
The Zheng family door closed once more, and everyone sat down again. Director Zheng pulled his younger daughter forward. “I’ve always thought highly of Wenping. Our whole family trusts the Yang family’s character. As for Wenping not having a job, that’s only temporary—he’ll be a cadre sooner or later.”
“Today, with your grandpa and grandma here, your uncles here, and Aunt Zhang and Aunt Yang here as well, I’m telling you in front of everyone: if you don’t have a legitimate reason, you’ll marry him whether you like it or not.”
Yang Yuan stood behind Mother Yang, utterly astonished. It could be like this? Wasn’t marriage supposed to be about happiness and living a better life? If the children weren’t willing, they wouldn’t live happily even if they did marry. If parents loved their children, why would they force them like this?
They had come today because they didn’t want this matter left murky and unresolved. Zheng Yuyin was in the wrong first, and if the Zheng family had simply admitted their fault, apologized, and returned the betrothal gifts, the engagement would have been settled. They hadn’t come looking for trouble—otherwise Father Yang, the head of the family, wouldn’t have stayed away.
Things had escalated beyond what Mother Yang ever expected. How could Zheng Yuyin have kept something as serious as a pregnancy from her own family? Now the young girl stood before everyone, sobbing so hard she could barely catch her breath, and the air was thick with coercion and awkwardness.
Mother Yang didn’t want to stay any longer; she just wanted to take back the betrothal money and leave. “It’s a new society now. If the child truly isn’t willing, even if they marry, they’ll never get along. Let’s call off the engagement between our two families. Wenping.”
Yang Wenping, who had barely said a word the whole time, took out a fountain pen and placed it on the table—it was a gift from Zheng Yuyin at the engagement.
The matchmaker, Sister Zhang, sighed. She had thought this engagement, as good as set in stone, would finally come to a happy conclusion—who knew it would turn out like this? Today she had said everything she could to both sides; if it couldn’t be worked out, there was nothing more to be done.
“I was the matchmaker between your two families. Back then, Wenping and Yuyin were kindred spirits; now that their revolutionary paths diverge, it simply wasn’t meant to be. From now on, each will marry their own revolutionary partner, and neither owes the other anything. Five hundred yuan was given at the engagement. Director Zheng, shall we?”
Director Zheng’s face was awful to behold. In this era, when an engagement was made and then broken off, the two families basically became enemies. From now on, whenever the Zheng family ran into the Yang family on the street, they wouldn’t be able to hold their heads up, and it would be hard to say whether Zheng Yuyin could ever marry into a good family.
“No, in-law—the child spoke in a moment of anger, she’ll come around. Wenping…” Zheng’s mother still wanted to negotiate, and the Zheng family sisters-in-law helped smooth things over, trying to drag Zheng Yuyin forward to apologize and give in. But no matter what anyone said, though Zheng Yuyin cried and cried, she wouldn’t budge.
Yang Yuan was getting annoyed. Her stomach had been growling with hunger for ages. If you asked her, why drag it out like this? Just lay it all out—that Zheng Yuyin was pregnant. The Zheng family would be too ashamed to keep dithering, would promptly return the five hundred yuan, and they could all go home.
They’d been dawdling away the whole afternoon. Talk about pushing things to the limit.
“Yuyin.” Yang Yuan spoke up, and the firecracker of a girl instantly drew everyone’s gaze. “Once, when I was out with Fourth Brother, we ran into an old classmate of mine. His name was Wang Honghe…”
Zheng Yuyin’s face instantly turned deathly pale, her eyes filling with terror. The Zheng family was baffled. The next second she shook her head frantically, and in her terrified eyes there appeared pleading—humble pleading.
Yang Yuan opened her mouth, then stopped. Fine, this really wasn’t the kind of thing to say in front of everyone.
The rest of the proceedings went quickly. Zheng Yuyin knelt on the ground, insisting she truly could not marry. After seeing that expression of hers, the Zheng family already sensed something was terribly wrong. Director Zheng’s eyes reddened with rage. Suppressing the raging fire in his heart, he handed the money to Sister Zhang, apologized repeatedly to Mother Yang and Yang Wenping, and everyone saw them out the door brimming with apologies. Old Master Zheng even cupped his hands in a salute to Mother Yang, leaving her deeply flattered.
The Zheng family’s door closed—the main gate itself was shut. What Zheng Yuyin would face today, and how she would explain the five hundred yuan she’d taken from home, now gone—none of that had anything to do with them anymore.
Sister Zhang returned the money Director Zheng had just given her, along with the red envelopes Mother Yang had given her before. The two politely refused it back and forth for a while. The snow was falling heavier and heavier. Mother Yang finally accepted it and watched Sister Zhang walk away into the distance.
The ground was slippery. Yang Yuan and Yang Wenping supported Mother Yang by the arms, one on each side, as they headed home. The ground was covered in a layer of white, and the cold wind, wrapped in threads of snow, burrowed straight down their collars. Yang Yuan hunched her shoulders, shivering.
Not a word was spoken the whole way. Just as they were about to reach the alley where they lived, they saw a figure in the distance. Yang Yuan squinted, not yet making it out, when Mother Yang broke into a trot toward it.
“Mom, slow down…”
“Aiya!”
Before Yang Wenping could finish speaking, Mother Yang slipped and fell sprawling a good distance away.
“Mom!”
“Mom!”
“Old Chen!!”
That figure turned out to be Father Yang.
Father Yang was farther away, yet he reached Mother Yang before the other two and helped her up. Mother Yang clutched her waist, crying out in pain again and again, and in the end Yang Wenping carried her home on his back.
By the time the meal was in their mouths, it was already some unknown hour of the afternoon. Father Yang rubbed medicinal wine into Mother Yang’s injuries while Yang Wenping stir-fried shredded potatoes and made egg-drop soup.
The meal was eaten in complete silence—not a single word was spoken. Yang Yuan looked left and right, half understanding. Her anger had been vented, the betrothal gift had been gotten back, and although buying coal hadn’t been easy, they had managed to snatch it in the end. Today had brought nothing but gains, so why was everyone still unhappy?