It was late at night. The wick of the kerosene lamp in the melon shed popped with a small flower of light.
Lei Deshui looked at Su Wan’s face—still smiling, yet so thin it looked as if it could be covered by a palm—and a thought inside him grew wildly like weeds.
That was his woman, carrying his child. How could she live like a refugee?
The next morning, before dawn had fully broken, Lei Deshui drove his rumbling tractor out of the village.
He didn’t go to haul bricks. Instead, he headed straight for the county town.
In those days, money could make ghosts grind millstones—let alone Lei Deshui still had some connections in the black market.
By the time the sun was slanting westward, he finally returned, dusty and windblown.
The tractor bed was covered with a thick tarpaulin, tightly sealed so no one could see what was underneath.
That night, when Su Wan went to the backyard latrine, she heard two cat-like meows by the wall.
It was the signal.
Her heart skipped a beat. After looking around and confirming no one was there, she tiptoed to the hollow of the old withered locust tree.
She reached in.
Good heavens—it was full.
Two tin cans, heavy in her hands. Under the moonlight she could see they were “Red Star” brand milk powder, full-fat.
Beside them was a large paper-wrapped bundle of malted milk. This kind of thing had to be bought with ration coupons at the supply store—extremely precious.
At the bottom were two white plastic bottles with foreign writing on them. Su Wan recognized them as calcium tablets.
Had Lei Deshui emptied out the supply store?
Holding this pile of things, Su Wan’s eyes grew warm.
She hid everything like a thief in the deepest part of the woodpile in the shed—that was her secret food stash.
From that day on, Su Wan’s life changed.
Every day, when Zhang Guihua wasn’t paying attention, or late at night when everyone was asleep, she would secretly mix herself a cup of milk powder, or eat a few spoonfuls of malted milk straight.
That sweet, rich aroma melted on her tongue and flowed down into her stomach, warming her so much she felt like crying.
This wasn’t just food—it was Lei Deshui’s burning heart.
With these nourishing supplies, Su Wan’s health visibly improved.
Her originally sallow complexion gradually gained a rosy glow, like peach blossoms in early spring.
Her once thin body also began to fill out. Though her waist was still slender, her hips and chest became fuller. Even when walking, she carried an undeniable mature charm.
Even her hair became black and shiny, strikingly noticeable in the dull rural courtyard.
Zhang Guihua sat in the yard sewing soles, her triangular eyes always glancing at Su Wan with a sinister look.
“Strange… what has this jinx been eating lately? Why does she look so fresh and lively?”
Zhang Guihua muttered suspiciously.
All the grain in the house was under her control. Every day Su Wan only got a little thin porridge and salted vegetables—barely enough not to starve. How could she possibly look so well-fed?
“Su Wan! Have you been secretly eating eggs behind my back?”
Zhang Guihua suddenly slammed her shoe sole into the basket and pointed at Su Wan, scolding her.
Su Wan was sweeping the floor. Hearing this, she straightened up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her movements gentle and graceful.
“Mother, every egg is counted. You check them three times a day. Where would I even steal one from?”
Su Wan’s voice was calm, neither humble nor arrogant.
“If not eggs, why is your face so red? Like you put on rouge—so shameless!”
Zhang Guihua cursed as she walked over and pinched Su Wan’s arm hard.
“Don’t tell me you’ve been sneaking around with some wild man who gave you good food?”
Su Wan’s heart tightened, but her expression remained pitiful and wronged.
“Mother, if you’re going to say that, I’ll go to the brigade office and ask the party secretary to judge this! How can a mother-in-law slander her daughter-in-law like this?”
Hearing the mention of the secretary, Zhang Guihua reluctantly withdrew her hand.
Last time Lei Deshui’s warning with a cartload of bricks was still fresh in her mind. She didn’t dare push too far.
“Hmph, I don’t think you’ve got the guts!”
Zhang Guihua spat and turned back into the house.
But it wasn’t over.
Su Wan’s changes weren’t only noticed by Zhang Guihua—Wang Dajun noticed them too.
That night, Wang Dajun came home drunk, swaying.
As soon as he entered the room, he saw Su Wan wiping her body with her back facing him.
Under the dim yellow light, the curve of Su Wan’s fair neck and the faint outline of her slightly fuller chest made Wang Dajun stare wide-eyed.
Although he couldn’t perform in that area, he was still a man—he still had desires.
In the past, Su Wan was so thin she looked like a skeleton; he had no interest in her.
But now…
“Gulp.”
Wang Dajun swallowed, then, emboldened by alcohol, closed the door and slid the bolt shut.
Su Wan heard the sound and suddenly turned around, clutching a towel tightly over her chest.
“Dajun, what are you doing?”
Wang Dajun grinned, his lecherous face full of greed.
“Wife, why are you getting prettier lately? Let me see—have you put on some weight?”
As he spoke, he spread his hands and lunged toward Su Wan.
Su Wan retreated in fear until her back hit the cold wall.
“Don’t come closer! You stink of alcohol—it’s disgusting!”
“What are you pretending for? We’re husband and wife. Sleeping together is only natural.”
At this moment, Wang Dajun was overwhelmed by lust and didn’t care about anything else. He grabbed Su Wan’s wrist in one motion.
Su Wan only felt a wave of nausea churn in her stomach, so intense she almost vomited.
If he touched her like this—what about the child in her belly? What about Lei Deshui?
She absolutely could not let him succeed!
Just as Wang Dajun’s foul mouth was about to lean in closer, a flash of inspiration struck Su Wan.
“Don’t touch me! I’m sick!”
Su Wan let out a sharp, piercing scream.
Wang Dajun froze. “What? What sickness?”
Taking advantage of his hesitation, Su Wan broke free from his grip and backed into the corner, clutching her chest with both hands, staring at him in fear and disgust.
“Dajun, I didn’t dare tell you… a few days ago I went to the market and used a public toilet. When I came back, I started feeling itchy down there, and there was yellow discharge…”
As she spoke, she exaggerated a painful expression.
“Today I secretly asked a barefoot doctor. He said… it’s a venereal disease. It’s contagious! It could even rot everything down there!”
“What?! A venereal disease?!”
At those words, Wang Dajun sobered up halfway, jumping back two meters as if he had been burned.
In this era, venereal disease was something people feared deeply—it was known as a filthy illness that could rot a man’s private parts.
“You… you filthy woman! How did you get that kind of disease?”
Wang Dajun pointed at Su Wan, his face full of disgust and fear.
“How would I know? Someone must have infected me! The doctor said it spreads fast—just a touch, and it’ll grow cauliflower-like sores, ooze pus, and eventually rot until there’s nothing left but a hole!”
Su Wan deliberately described the symptoms in an extremely disgusting way.
Wang Dajun’s face turned green. Subconsciously, he covered his groin, terrified of being infected.
“Get out! Get away from me! Don’t come near me!”
He waved her off in disgust, as if she were a plague.
“For the next few days, don’t come into this room! Go sleep in the woodshed! Take your bedding with you! So damn unlucky!”
Su Wan felt a wave of relief inside, but on the outside she looked wronged and pitiful as she carried her bedding out.
This crisis was barely avoided using disgust as a shield.
As long as Wang Dajun thought she was “unclean,” she and her child would be safe.
Back in the woodshed, Su Wan leaned against a pile of straw and let out a long breath.
But before she could fully relax, a sudden wail like a slaughtered pig came from the front yard.
“Oh heavens! Which damn thief stole my chicken?!”
Su Wan’s heart jumped. She quickly ran out to see.
There stood Zhang Guihua in front of the chicken coop, holding an empty cage, slapping her thigh and crying loudly.
“My spotted hen! She was just about to lay eggs! Where did she go?!”
Crying and wailing, Zhang Guihua’s vicious eyes suddenly locked onto Su Wan.
“Was it you? You gluttonous thing! Did you steal it and eat it? I knew you’ve been looking healthier lately—you must’ve stolen my chicken!”
A cold wind blew through the courtyard as Su Wan stood there, shivering slightly.
“Mother, I’ve been in the house the whole time. The chicken coop is in the corner—how could I steal it?”
“If not you, then you must’ve worked with outsiders! Otherwise, how could the chicken just disappear without a sound?”
Zhang Guihua was completely unreasonable. She grabbed a broom and was about to strike Su Wan.
“Enough!”
Wang Dajun came out of the room, looking impatient.
“Is one chicken really such a big deal? I heard it earlier—it sounded like a weasel took it.”
His mind was still full of Su Wan’s “venereal disease,” and he was irritated and distracted.
Seeing that her son wasn’t backing her up, Zhang Guihua could only throw the broom down in frustration.
“A weasel? I think we’ve got a thief in the house! Su Wan, you’re not allowed to eat tonight. Go guard the pigsty in the yard! If another pig goes missing, I’ll skin you alive!”
Su Wan said nothing and silently went to the pigsty in the backyard.
Night deepened, and the wind grew colder.
She wrapped herself tightly in her thin padded jacket and curled up in the corner.
Suddenly, a dark head appeared over the wall.
“Shh.”
Lei Deshui was lying on top of the wall, a blade of grass in his mouth, winking at her.
“Brother Lei?”
Su Wan stood up in surprise and quickly ran to the base of the wall.
“That old witch is bullying you again?”
Lei Deshui’s voice was cold as ice.
He had heard Zhang Guihua’s shouting clearly from the back hill.
Daring to call his woman a thief? Even starving her?
“It’s fine. I’m used to it,” Su Wan shook her head. As long as the child was fine, that was enough.
“You can be used to it, but I can’t.”
Lei Deshui snorted coldly, his gaze falling on the sleeping piglets in the pen.
Those were Zhang Guihua’s precious treasures—her hope for earning money during the New Year.
“Wan’er, go back inside and lock the door. No matter what you hear, don’t come out.”
Lei Deshui jumped down from the wall and flexed his wrist, a mischievous grin appearing on his face.
“Tonight, I’m going to teach that old witch a lesson.”