Just as Su Meilan was about to start complaining again about her children who never seemed to stay home, the door was gently pushed open.
“Dad, Mom, I’m back.”
Yang Lijuan walked in carrying Yang Lijun’s schoolbag on her back. Her pant legs were rolled up, and in her hands were two crucian carp weighing two or three jin. Behind her followed Yang Lishu and Yang Lijun.
“Where did you go? Always running around outside. We even had to wait for you to eat! Yang Lijuan, you’re already so grown up and still taking your little brother out to fool around.”
Before Yang Lijuan could even explain, Su Meilan started scolding her harshly.
“Mom, stop talking already. I caught these fish myself with great effort! Aren’t I amazing?”
Yang Lijun was impatient with Su Meilan’s lecture. After walking such a long distance, he was already starving. He snatched the fish from Yang Lijuan’s hands and proudly presented them to Su Meilan like a treasure.
“Amazing, amazing! My Lijun is really amazing!” Su Meilan smiled brightly. “Your brother is going on a blind date soon, so we’ll keep these two fish to eat in a few days.”
She was extremely pleased. Her youngest son had really helped her out.
Just look—he went out once and even brought back a proper dish for the family.
Yang Lishu looked at Yang Lijun’s proud smile and secretly pouted behind him, rolling her eyes.
Did you catch them? And you’re taking the credit?
It was clearly Second Sister who caught them. Shameless.
The whole way back, she and Yang Lijuan had even carried his schoolbag for him. Catch fish? His face sure was thick.
Yang Lijuan tugged at Yang Lishu’s sleeve, signaling her to calm down so their mother wouldn’t notice and scold them again.
Besides, the three of them had gone to the river together. If Lijun said he caught them, it didn’t really matter. The fish were for the family anyway.
Yang Lishu angrily shook off her sister’s hand.
It was always like this—Yang Lijuan never knew how to stand up for herself. Even when others tried to defend her, she wouldn’t accept it. It made Yang Lishu look petty instead.
Su Meilan placed the fish in the kitchen, then turned to the still-standing sisters and frowned.
“Hurry up and sit down to eat. Do I have to invite you? You’re not even as sensible as your little brother.”
“Alright, alright, everyone say less,” Yang Lixin stepped in to smooth things over. “Lijuan, Lishu, come sit and eat. We’ve been waiting for you.”
Yang Lihua sat quietly at the table, completely uninterested in the tense atmosphere.
At that moment, she was reviewing the golden finger that the heroine Zhou Hongxia had taken from her in the novel—trying to recall exactly where it had been found.
As long as that item wasn’t in her hands, she wouldn’t feel at ease.
What if the heroine got lucky and went directly to the scrap collection station to find it?
Early the next morning, Yang Lihua whispered to Yang Lijuan,
“Second Sister, can you help me ask for leave at school later? I have something to do this morning.”
“Alright. Do you need help? Should I take leave and go with you?” Yang Lijuan asked worriedly.
Her third sister had never asked for leave from school before. Whatever she needed to do must be important.
“No need. I can handle it myself.”
If she brought someone along, how could she hide the things she found?
Early in the morning, the scrap collection station had no one there except an old gatekeeper and Yang Lihua wandering around.
The novel only mentioned that the heroine had found several foreign-language books wrapped in kraft paper there. As for the cookbook, it didn’t describe it in detail—only saying it had been mixed among the pile of books she bought.
Yang Lihua quickly located the foreign books mentioned in the novel in a corner.
These were no ordinary books. They were documents related to the textile industry.
After flipping through them briefly, they appeared to discuss textile machinery and chemical materials, published in the early 1960s.
For China’s textile industry in the 1970s—when information was limited—these were extremely valuable resources.
Yang Lihua carefully put them away. Who knew? They might bring her unexpected benefits someday.
For people working in the textile industry, materials like this were practically bargaining chips for promotion.
Taking the three foreign-language books, Yang Lihua patiently searched through the piles for the real purpose of her visit today—
the cookbook.
Ignoring stacks of newspapers and textbooks, she focused on old-style books and periodicals.
Sure enough, beside a pile of miscellaneous items, she spotted a vertically bound thread-stitched book with a faded, badly damaged cover.
After piecing together the title with some guesswork, she read:
“Wang Family Cookbook.”
The pages were yellowed and fragile. Inside were delicately written recipes recorded in neat brush handwriting, detailing everything from ingredients to cooking techniques.
In the novel, the heroine Zhou Hongxia had restored several pastries from this cookbook.
Those pastries stunned everyone during an internal competition at the food factory. Her job—after years without promotion—was immediately made permanent.
Later, using the recipes in this book, she connected with the Overseas Chinese Affairs Office and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and her career soared from there.
The author of the book had once been an imperial chef.
Originally, he intended to pass the cookbook to his apprentice.
But the apprentice didn’t value his master’s belongings at all. As soon as the old chef passed away, he immediately sold everything.
An unfilial disciple.
But fortunately for Yang Lihua, that mistake worked in her favor.
She gently closed the book and touched its worn cover.
She personally had little interest in cooking. Besides, the food industry was exhausting work.
Right now, she still had many choices. Unless absolutely necessary, she truly didn’t want to step into that field.
Although the cookbook might not seem useful for now, its value was undeniable.
And she definitely wouldn’t let it fall into Zhou Hongxia’s hands again.
Yang Lihua shook off the thoughts.
She still had to go to school.
She took the nearly falling-apart cookbook, mixed the foreign books into a large pile of old magazines she had gathered, and carried them together.
“Grandpa, I’ll take these. Please write me a receipt.”
She placed the pile casually on the ground for the old man to inspect.
He glanced at them briefly.
“Twenty cents.”
Yang Lihua carried the large stack of books and quickly returned home.
She pulled out the foreign books and the cookbook, then carefully hid them under her bed.
Sigh.
When would she finally have her own room?
Hiding things here didn’t feel safe at all.
People in this era had no concept of respecting others’ privacy. Anyone could walk into the room whenever they wanted and rummage through the bed however they pleased.
But she had no other place to hide them for now.
After tidying up at home for most of the morning, Yang Lihua arrived at school just before the end of the morning classes.
Instead of returning to her classroom, she went directly to the principal’s office.
She stood respectfully in front of an old desk, her back straight, and placed a document before the gray-haired principal.
“Principal,” Yang Lihua said clearly and calmly,
“I’d like to apply for early graduation. This is my graduation application and my transcript.”
Her voice was steady and crisp—without the slightest hint of nervousness.