RYEY – Chapter 87 Falling Into the Trap

“No wonder you were so eager to help. So those two newcomers are Zhao Xiaobao’s parents. Alright, I’ll keep an eye on things.”

“Uncle Niu, you promised.”

“Mm, but you’ll have to help quietly. Also, first help me get some cotton. I really can’t wear these pants anymore.”

Li Huan nodded repeatedly. Cotton? No problem—there was plenty of cotton padding among the housewife’s treasures. She could just take one out and pull out the stuffing. It was incredibly convenient.

Old Niu watched Li Huan leave and began thinking about how to help the couple in the backyard. There was also another couple living there—they were capitalists, after all. Everyone knew capitalists were rotten at heart.

That night, Uncle Niu knocked on the backyard door with the cotton Li Huan had brought. Zhu Qingde answered, forcing a smile when he saw him: “Brother Niu, what brings you here? Is there something you need?”

“Mm, who here knows how to make clothes?”

Uncle Niu asked with a forced courage. He hoped Zhu Qingde’s wife didn’t know how to sew. Zhu Qingde shook his head in disappointment—his wife only knew how to buy clothes, not make them.

“Your wife can’t make clothes?”

Uncle Niu asked loudly. Zhu Qingde shook his head again. Xiao Aiqin quickly stepped out, smiling at Uncle Niu: “Brother Niu, I know a little. What do you want to make?”

Uncle Niu smiled. It seemed heaven was helping this couple after all. He handed over the fabric and a bag of cotton:

“Here, make me a pair of pants, just like the ones I’m wearing.”

Xiao Aiqin glanced at the pants on Uncle Niu—they were simple, plain cotton pants. This was too easy! She hurriedly took the fabric and cotton, promising to finish them as soon as possible.

“I won’t let you work for nothing. Five jin of sorghum flour and three bundles of firewood for a pair of pants. How about that?”

“This… thank you so much, Brother Niu. I’ll shamelessly accept.”

Xiao Aiqin hadn’t expected such a windfall. Excited, she walked into the house with the fabric—but once inside, she realized she had no needles, thread, scissors, or even a ruler.

After thinking for a moment, she knocked on the neighbor’s door. Yuan Mengzhi had overheard the previous conversation and was secretly jealous—just making a pair of pants and getting five jin of sorghum flour and three bundles of firewood?

“Who is it?”

Hearing the knock, Yuan Mengzhi impatiently opened the door. Seeing Xiao Aiqin, she curled her lips, saying nothing, waiting for her to speak.

Xiao Aiqin, knowing how to read expressions, realized that Yuan Mengzhi had probably heard her conversation with Brother Niu and might be feeling envious.

“Comrade Yuan, do you have scissors, a ruler, and needles and thread? I can give you one jin of sorghum flour in exchange… I mean, just borrow them.”

Yuan Mengzhi raised her eyebrows. She did have those things, but one jin of sorghum flour seemed too little—maybe add a bundle of firewood as well.

Xiao Aiqin’s face fell, but a clever housewife can’t cook without rice. She nodded and accepted, taking the items from Yuan Mengzhi.

“Use them carefully. If they break, you’ll have to pay.”

Yuan Mengzhi handed her a small wicker basket, warning her just in case. Xiao Aiqin looked at it and nodded, returning to her house.

By the time Zhao Guoliang came back with a big bundle of firewood, Xiao Aiqin had already started sewing the pants. The sky was getting dark, so they had to clean up and get ready for dinner.

“Old Zhao, I picked up a job today—helping Brother Niu make a pair of cotton pants. He gave five jin of sorghum flour and three bundles of firewood.”

Zhao Guoliang raised his eyebrows, suspecting maybe it was Qian Longkun’s doing. Otherwise, among all the women in the village, who wouldn’t know how to make pants? Why would it fall to them?

“But I didn’t have scissors or thread, so I borrowed from the neighbor, promising a jin of sorghum flour and a bundle of firewood.”

Seeing his wife’s slightly wronged expression, Zhao Guoliang smiled, patting her shoulder softly:

“It’s fine as long as she’s willing to lend you things. Just be careful in case she tries something sneaky. If one day your eyes aren’t your eyes, or your nose isn’t your nose, stay alert.”

Xiao Aiqin glanced at Yuan Mengzhi’s door and nodded. They were both in the same boat—why couldn’t they sympathize with each other?

When Qian Longkun received the meat, he already knew Li Huan had asked Zhao Xiaobao’s mother to help Uncle Niu make pants, and he was very pleased. Zhao Xiaobao, however, looked worriedly at Qian Longkun.

Qian Longkun didn’t understand. Li Huan whispered: “Making clothes requires scissors and thread, right? His parents probably don’t have any.”

Qian Longkun quickly returned to the dorm, taking out a pair of scissors and a small bundle of thread. The scissors were for nails, and the thread could only patch a small hole.

“I have some at home. I’ll bring them tomorrow.”

Li Huan rolled his eyes. Was it really that big a deal? Just some scissors and thread, no need to frown like that.

“Brother Huan, the meat…”

Seeing Li Huan about to leave, Qian Longkun hurriedly ran over and handed him the meat. It wasn’t for them to eat—it was for Zhao Xiaobao’s parents.

“No way. Only been here two days and already eating meat? Do you still want them to get better?”

Li Huan refused firmly. There were more than just one household—there was also a couple from Beijing. The man was a Chinese medicine doctor, the woman a capitalist’s daughter.

Seeing Li Huan’s resolute expression, Qian Longkun nodded knowingly. The weather was cold, and the prepared meat could be stored for a few days until a night when they could sneak over.

Two days later, Xiao Aiqin had finished the cotton pants. Uncle Niu put on the new pants, feeling comfortable all over. Looking at the stitches, they were indeed delicate.

“Brother Niu, this extra cotton and fabric are yours.”

“There’s still more? Can you make shoes? If yes, make a pair of cotton shoes for me. The remaining material is yours.”

Xiao Aiqin looked at the fabric and cotton in her hands—enough to make three pairs of shoes. She decided to make two for Uncle Niu and one for Old Zhao.

“Brother Niu, I can make shoes, but I don’t have the tools.”

“Oh, I forgot about that. Wait a moment. I think my wife left those things here. They’d be useless to me, so I’ll give them to you.”

Uncle Niu retrieved a basket from inside. It contained not only needles, thread, scissors, and a ruler, but also several pairs of ready-made shoe soles, clearly in Uncle Niu’s size.

“Perfect! This makes things much easier. Brother Niu, I’ll just borrow them. When there’s a chance in the future… I’ll return them.”

Uncle Niu waved his hand. “Return them? They’d just gather dust in the cupboard anyway. Now that you have new pants, go show the little rascal. Let him be happy too.”