Seeing Yang Lihua frozen in thought, Li Hongying was puzzled.
“Lihua, what’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”
She hoped Lihua wasn’t a sickly type; living together while working would be tiring enough without having to take care of someone else.
“Oh, no, it’s nothing. I was just thinking I still need a small wooden box. I plan to go check the scrap recycling station tomorrow.”
In the book she had just read, the bracelet was apparently found in a hidden compartment of an old wooden box at a scrap recycling station.
A recycling station—what a treasure trove!
“Hey! I’ll go too. I don’t have work tomorrow, maybe I can find some good stuff.” Li Hongying was excited. Even though most items were broken, they were cheap. A few cents could get you a lot of things.
Early the next morning, Li Hongying and Yang Lihua headed straight to the scrap recycling station. Yang Lihua’s mind was focused on one thing: she feared the wooden box might have already been bought.
Just like last time, the morning recycling station was quiet. Besides the elderly man at the gate, there was only Yang Lihua and Li Hongying.
Yang Lihua carefully searched through the piles, following the description in the book. And luck was on her side—hidden among a pile of old books, she found a worn wooden box with peeling lacquer.
Li Hongying, empty-handed, didn’t ask. The box, though old, was usable, and five cents was a good deal.
Back at the dorm, as soon as they opened the door, they saw a round-faced, charming girl standing inside.
Yang Lihua’s eyes flickered. This must be the heroine Zhu Yuanyuan from The Charming Chef of the ’70s. True to the book, she wasn’t the most stunning, but she had an irresistibly endearing look.
“You’re back?” Zhao Xiaofen quickly introduced them.
“This is Zhu Yuanyuan, the chef from the cafeteria, our new roommate. Yuanyuan, this is Yang Lihua, and that’s Li Hongying.”
Zhu Yuanyuan smiled brightly, voice clear and enthusiastic:
“Hello! I’m Zhu Yuanyuan, a temporary worker in the cafeteria. Don’t call me Chef Zhu—just call me Yuanyuan.”
Her eyes landed on Yang Lihua.
“I heard you passed the loom operator exam by yourself. That’s amazing!”
Zhu Yuanyuan hadn’t passed the exam; her family used connections to get her a temporary job in the cafeteria. Outwardly, she claimed she had passed.
Seeing Yang Lihua outperform the factory employees’ children sparked a fleeting glance of jealousy in her eyes—but it quickly disappeared.
If Yang Lihua hadn’t been paying attention to the heroine in the book, she might never have noticed this hidden side of her.
In the novel, the heroine was always bright, likable, with no hint of darkness.
But people are complex; no one is always purely good. If the heroine seemed saintly, she was either genuinely extraordinary or just pretending.
Clearly, being a saint isn’t something ordinary people can do. Zhu Yuanyuan could at least act well in public.
Zhu Yuanyuan, intending to look away, inadvertently caught sight of the old wooden box in Yang Lihua’s hands. Her radiant smile paused, and in her eyes flashed a subtle, almost unconscious desire and curiosity.
A voice in her head seemed to urge: Get it… get it…
Yang Lihua placed the wooden box on the table and began arranging it. Zhu Yuanyuan’s gaze couldn’t help but follow.
“That’s quite a nice box, Lihua. Where did you get it?”
Li Hongying, ever blunt, answered before Yang Lihua could:
“At the scrap recycling station in the west. Lihua bought it for five cents. Pretty good, right? You can use it to store small items…”
Zhu Yuanyuan’s smile grew even brighter. She stepped forward, eyes glued to the box.
“It’s really nice, seems sturdy… Lihua, I really like old things like this. Could you… let me have it? I’ll pay… no, one yuan!”
She hurriedly stretched out her hand, her tone tinged with urgency she couldn’t quite explain.
Yang Lihua inwardly laughed. Could it be some telepathic connection? Or was it the heroine’s innate aura sensing the magical item?
Li Hongying and Zhao Xiaofen were stunned. One old wooden box—and offering one yuan? Had Zhu Yuanyuan lost her mind?
The girl, seemingly desperate, stared at the box as if it held a secret only she could sense.
Yang Lihua feigned surprise and hesitation:
“Yuanyuan, it’s not really about the money. I like this box too. It’s perfect for storing small items. Besides, it’s just an old box. If you like this style, you can check department stores; they have plenty of similar boxes…”
“Two yuan!” Zhu Yuanyuan seemed possessed, raising her offer and staring intently at the box.
“Lihua, please give it to me. I really like it. I just feel… it should be mine!”
Her voice shifted from murmuring to confident assertion.
The dorm grew silent. Even Li Hongying and Zhao Xiaofen felt the tension—this felt like a forced purchase.
Zhu Yuanyuan seemed obsessed—two yuan for an old wooden box. Two yuan could buy a brand-new one.
Yang Lihua saw the intensity in her eyes and realized refusing might lead to trouble later.
Feigning a reluctant concession, she said:
“Since you like it so much, Yuanyuan… you can have it.”
She gestured subtly: the two yuan, don’t forget! No payment, no box.
Zhu Yuanyuan immediately dug out two one-yuan bills and handed them over, snatching the box with delight.
“Thank you, Lihua! You’re so kind!”
Li Hongying was dumbfounded: “Two yuan for that? Lihua, you made a killing!”
Zhao Xiaofen shook her head. “Yuanyuan seems sweet, but her actions… are hard to explain.”
It was awkward, somewhere between annoying and baffling.
Yang Lihua held the two yuan, a faint smile on her lips. Her other hand touched the warm, milky-white jade bracelet she’d secretly kept.
She had verified it—the heroine couldn’t sense it unless she knew it was a magical item.
As for this space jade bracelet, she, the unknowing cannon fodder, would happily keep it.