One might ask: if she pretended not to hear, could she outrun the several soldiers present? The answer was no. At 1.89 meters tall, catching her would be as easy as catching a chicken. Sang Zhi hesitated only for a moment before stopping.
The young girl in front of him bit her lip, silent. Her black hair was thick and soft, her duck-like lashes glistened with tears, and her clear apricot-colored eyes looked elsewhere, showing a hint of stubbornness. The cold wind blew, reddening her upturned nose, and she sneezed.
The sentry, who had been chatting amiably with her earlier, felt a twinge of pity. “Captain Cai, although this is a family matter and outsiders shouldn’t meddle, I don’t think Comrade Sang Zhi is as overbearing as the other comrade claims. You can’t speak without investigating; it’s better to look into things from multiple angles.”
He had seen Sang Yun several times while on duty—polished, adept at pleasing people. These two comrades and Captain Cai had clearly been deceived by her. Out of sympathy for the underdog, he naturally leaned toward Sang Zhi. She understood his good intentions and smiled in gratitude. But that smile vanished when it fell upon the man in front of her: tanned skin, a high and sharp nose bridge, deep-set eyes that seemed cold and proud.
“You say you’re her cousin. Can you practice medicine? Have you been to the station recently?”
He actually wanted to ask whether she had been to the hospital, but the events of that night had been absurdly scandalous. With his conservative temperament, he couldn’t bring himself to ask.
Sang Zhi hadn’t responded yet. Feeling guilty, Sang Yun quickly answered, “My sister learned from a barefoot doctor in the countryside for a few years—just the kind of things that aren’t suitable for public work.”
This person was utterly foolish. Who she studied under—Grandma Cai, who was the elder sister of the family she was seeking refuge with—was none of his business. And yet, he publicly called her a barefoot doctor. That was almost suicidal. Sang Yun realized she had misspoken, bowed her head, and seethed inwardly; Captain Cai was known for his temper.
Once the younger ones had made enough of a fuss, the old man stiffly said, “Go home.”
Jiang Yan, looking like a great statue, seemed to be saying that unless he could extract useful information, no one would be released. She reluctantly went inside.
Sang Yun, playing the “bad person first” card, repeated her earlier rhetoric about how she was innocent and was just helping out of kindness. A huge argument here would damage Sang Zhi’s image, but silence didn’t suit Sang Zhi’s personality either. She had to strike a balance.
“Your brother took the hospital job from me. The opportunity with your uncle was something you and your parents schemed to seize. You say you feel guilty, but I’ll ask you: in the past few days, have you confessed to your uncle? If I hadn’t come today, would you have continued hiding the truth? Also, would you dare let someone inquire about your parents and brother—what kind of people are they? How did your brother lose his stable hospital job, and where is he now?”
Though not aggressive, each sentence weighed her down, making it impossible to lift her head. Possibly concerning Grandma Cai, she was unusually stirred.
Feng Xiangdong was stunned. “What a sharp tongue.”
The skinny old man sized up the two girls, formed a judgment, and coughed awkwardly at the newcomer. Had she come a couple of days earlier, he might have just given some compensation and sent Sang Yun away. That night’s sudden illness of the elder had indeed been due to her rescue efforts. And according to Feng’s son, she had also helped Jiang Yan a few days prior.
Seeing the situation, he decided to settle both girls temporarily.
“Just so, Jiang Yan is injured and will be resting here these few days. If you two know medicine, help me take care of the patient.”
This would keep both cousins around for a few days, allowing time for the inquiries he had requested to be completed. Arranging for the first girl would also repay a favor.
As for Sang Zhi, though she was sharp-tongued, he appreciated her genuine nature after a lifetime of military service. Sang Zhi couldn’t leave, and Sang Yun stayed as she wished. For a moment, the atmosphere was somewhat harmonious.
Seeing her in thin clothing, the old man even asked Sang Yun to bring her a warmer garment. A couple of days ago, he had already provided food and ration tickets.
“Oh, okay…” Sang Yun’s expression soured. To maintain her image and appear generous, she couldn’t wear Sang Zhi’s old clothes. She would have to give her own, bought at the department store with a fortune spent to attract a wealthy husband. Clothes really do make the person. On Sang Yun, it looked stiff and unflattering, but on Sang Zhi, it highlighted her slender neck and waist.
Feng Xiangdong gasped in admiration. She truly deserved her delicate, picturesque appearance.
Jiang Yan, however, casually withdrew his gaze. Even though she had looked pitiful in her thin clothes, he immediately recognized it as an act. The real concern was her motive and… her identity. As someone with access to key intelligence, he noted Sang Zhi’s suspicious behavior, which is why he paid extra attention.
Sang Zhi knew he was wary but didn’t mind. No evidence, no fear.
Sang Yun wanted to show herself as a dutiful, domestic figure, cooking while they sat. Normally, at Captain Cai’s level, the household would have an aunt doing the chores. But coincidentally, the aunt’s daughter-in-law had given birth and returned home for a couple of days.
Otherwise, Sang Yun wouldn’t have seized the opportunity to shower him with attentions. Let her enjoy doing chores. Sang Zhi, meanwhile, leisurely surveyed the house.
The Cai family’s apartment was in the northeast corner of the cadre district, quiet and serene, a two-story building with its own small courtyard. The walls inside were painted in the popular color scheme of the time—white on top, green on the bottom. A family portrait hung on the wall. There were cabinets of various heights, modular cabinets, a sofa, and a dining table—everything one might need. There were also items ordinary families didn’t usually have: a black-and-white TV, a radio, and a sewing machine. With the family mostly absent, the house felt somewhat empty.
Captain Cai was also very old. His personality couldn’t be called eccentric, just awkward. He asked her a lot about life in the countryside in a roundabout way. He wanted to ask about Grandma Cai, but Sang Zhi, not being the original person, didn’t know much and answered half-truths. The old man nodded, probably a bit tired, and pointed at Jiang Yan.
“He’s someone I’ve watched grow up. You can call him ‘uncle’ by seniority, but young people don’t always follow that—calling him ‘brother’ or ‘uncle’ is fine, whatever you prefer.”
Sang Zhi nodded, drawing out the syllable to say “uncle,” but hadn’t even opened her mouth when his gaze made her stop.
“Comrade Jiang, please take good care of her in the future,” she said.
He merely turned his face away in impatience.
At noon, Sang Yun went all out cooking, but the old man’s mood wasn’t high, and he barely touched his food. Apart from Feng Xiangdong, no one else made a fuss. After everyone ate, the old man gave her some ration and cloth tickets, suggesting she move in when possible. But with Jiang Yan, this ticking time bomb, still living there, she didn’t dare. She had to decline, saying it would have to wait.
Sang Zhi didn’t take the ration tickets but did eye the cloth tickets. Although she had bought clothes in the past couple of days, they were thin, and winter in the north was harsh. She needed something thicker. Her space did have cotton-padded jackets and down coats, but their style was too modern and the materials clashed with this era; she couldn’t wear them. So buying some fabric to make a smock or quilt cover would solve the problem.
As soon as Sang Zhi left, Jiang Yan followed her out. Sang Yun wanted to interact with him more, but she hadn’t finished her chores yet and could only watch helplessly.
At that time, tailors required the customer to provide fabric purchased with cloth tickets. The tailor would come to the home to make the clothing. Meals were provided, and two yuan was given as a wage. Sang Zhi didn’t want to bother managing their meals, so she gave extra money for them to complete the work for her to pick up later.
When she reached outside the tailor shop, she realized someone was following her—it was Jiang Yan, as elusive as ever. She didn’t yet know she was suspected of being a spy. But recalling the pressure from him and the previous questioning, her temper flared—she naturally hated being at a disadvantage. She quickly thought of a plan.
Seeing someone at the door, the elder tailor lady, wearing reading glasses with a tape measure around her neck, greeted her warmly.
“What are you doing, young comrade?”
The door curtain moved slightly. She smiled but said nothing until she saw a pair of shoes peeking from under the curtain. Mischievously, she said, “Making underwear—small clothes worn next to the skin!”