TPW – Chapter 2 Matchmaking

“An’an, the teacher is playing a game with everyone—why aren’t you joining in?”

Out of habit, the little guy ran straight into her arms. Qiao Lu bent down to pick him up, and Qiao An instinctively wrapped his arms around her neck. His cool little face rubbed against the warmth of her shoulder, squirming uneasily.

“Mom…”

“You don’t like playing games?” Qiao Lu kissed her son’s cheek and asked gently.

The little one shook his head and held on even tighter.

“Then do you like being with the other kids?” Qiao Lu asked again.

He shook his head again.

Qiao An’s resistance to the daycare and other children gave Qiao Lu a faint sense that something was off. Thinking back to their time in the village, mother and son had been practically inseparable. Some local children used to bully him, so the original Qiao Lu never let him play with kids his age. Over time, the child had developed an intense dependence on his mother.

But once the original Qiao Lu got a job, she suddenly shoved him into daycare with no transition at all—something that, to a child used to his mother’s constant presence, must’ve felt brutally cold.

After a pause, Qiao Lu tried a different approach. “An’an, Mommy doesn’t have a job anymore, so you can’t go to kindergarten now. Will that make you sad?”

Finally, a different expression appeared on the little one’s face. His red lips pursed as if trying to hold back a smile.

“Not sad.”

He couldn’t be happier to spend every day with his mom.

With that, Qiao Lu had her answer.

She kissed his cheek and said softly, “Alright, then we’ll withdraw.”

…

After withdrawing from daycare, Qiao Lu didn’t rush home. Instead, she took her son for a stroll around the area.

Many hidden alleyways housed free markets—informal setups run by private vendors. Due to the limited openness of the era, they couldn’t operate in fixed locations. The moment city inspectors showed up, vendors had to pack up and flee.

This was the reality of 1982. Though the country was said to be “reforming and opening up,” and private business was encouraged, the policies were unstable and the overall environment uncertain. Until about 1985, society still leaned toward conservatism.

In most people’s minds at the time, setting up a street stall or running a business—whatever the trade—if you weren’t employed by a state-owned enterprise, then it wasn’t considered a “proper” job. Back then, state-owned workers were the most sought-after. Not just for the wages—their benefits were unmatched. They had “iron rice bowls,” never had to worry about unemployment, enjoyed perks like free healthcare and housing, and even organized dating events called “social dances” for unmarried workers.

Most importantly, these jobs followed a legacy system: the father passes it to the son, the son to the grandson, on and on—ensuring lifelong security for generations. This was what the common people truly longed for.

Qiao Lu was from a rural village, with a rural household registration. Aside from pulling some strings to land a temporary job, her only other viable path was speculative business—essentially, private trading.

Now that she’d quit her job, Qiao Lu didn’t regret it. But she was worried. Deeply worried.

In the early ’80s, what could she possibly do to feed herself and her son?

She wandered with her son until noon before heading home. On the way, she used 1.5 yuan of the refunded tuition to buy two roasted sweet potatoes—five cents each. Soft, sticky, and sweet to the core.

After they finished eating, they hurried home. Or rather, to what they called “home,” though technically it wasn’t. It was her sister and brother-in-law’s place—a tiny 13-square-meter room in a tube-shaped apartment. Her brother-in-law had already been sleeping in the staff’s single dorm for half a month just to make room for Qiao Lu and her son. Now, they were just waiting for her to settle on a wedding date with Wang Bin so she could move out.

Thinking of that, Qiao Lu felt a twinge of guilt. That couple had been living apart for two weeks—because of her!

“Sigh… Son, it feels like wherever we go, people see us as a burden,” Qiao Lu said with a sigh.

The little guy nestled in her arms, his mouth still sweet from the sweet potatoes, replied, “Not a burden.”

Qiao Lu tapped his nose and smiled. “That’s right. As long as we don’t mind each other, we’re fine.”

The tube-shaped apartment building was constructed in the early 1960s, making it just over twenty years old—an old building by any standard. Each side had rows of units, and the once-white walls, now blackened by years of cooking smoke, had long lost their original color. The corridor running beneath them was long and narrow, cluttered with stoves, boilers, and all kinds of miscellaneous junk—a chaotic mess.

Qiao Lu arrived at the door in the middle. It was open, and there were rustling sounds from inside, clearly someone was home.

“Sister, is that you?”

She set the child down and stepped inside. At first, she didn’t see Qiao Yan. Turning slightly, she saw the wardrobe door close—her sister had been hidden behind it.

“Just got here,” said a slim, elegant woman as she stepped out, taking off the apron hanging on the wall. It was time to start preparing lunch for the family.

Qiao Yan was Qiao Lu’s second sister. She was the role model of the family—smart, hardworking, and studious from a young age. She had clawed her way out of a poor and backward mountain village and, thanks to the reinstated college entrance exam in 1977, managed to settle down in Lian City.

She was the first person in the village to go to college after the founding of the People’s Republic—a living example of how knowledge could change one’s fate. Though she had only gone to a junior college, that degree carried enormous weight back in those days.

After graduating, Qiao Yan was assigned to work at the Lian City Chemical Plant, where she now served as the head of a production team. Her husband also worked at the same plant, six years her senior. Though older, he held a top position in the technical department.

Word had it that the housing allocation list had already been released. Based on seniority, employee status, and education level, the couple would likely be assigned a spacious one-bedroom, two-living-room apartment within two years. When that time came, moving in would mark a bright and promising future for Qiao Yan.

“Sister, let me do it.”

Qiao Lu stepped forward and eagerly took the kitchen knife from her sister.

The napa cabbage was lazily soaked in a basin of water. One quick slice, and the tough core went straight into the trash.

Qiao Yan gave her a sidelong glance. Something felt off. “Why are you back so early today? What did Wang Bin say? When are you two getting married?”

Qiao Lu didn’t answer. She carefully sliced the cabbage into fine shreds and placed them into an enamel bowl.

“Sister, I was just about to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Qiao Yan looked at her curiously, wiping her hands on her apron.

Qiao Lu put down the knife and pulled her sister into the room. Qiao Yan, puzzled, watched her. When the door was locked behind them, Qiao Lu finally said: “I quit my job.”

Click—Qiao Yan felt like her head had just split in two.

“Are you joking?”

“I’m serious. I quit this morning,” she said with complete sincerity—no sign of humor on her face.

“You only just started—hasn’t even been a week! Why?” Qiao Yan couldn’t believe it and grabbed her hand in concern.

Qiao Lu took a deep breath and gently pressed her sister’s hand. “I didn’t like it.”

“Didn’t like it? You don’t like an iron rice bowl? What do you like then? Is it because it was a temp job? Temp workers can become permanent! You’ve got Wang Bin as a connection—wasn’t it just a matter of time before you were made permanent? Once that happens, you can transfer your household registration into the city! And besides, even being a temp at the factory beats going back to the countryside to farm. You’re a village girl—what are you not satisfied with?”

Qiao Lu shook her head. “Sister, I got that job through underhanded means. Do you know what people at the factory are saying about me?”

Everyone knew Qiao Lu had pulled strings to get into the silk-reeling factory. Naturally, gossip was inevitable. But a few snide remarks wouldn’t kill you—you still got paid. Compared to the alternatives, what was the big deal?

Qiao Yan didn’t care in the slightest. “Let them talk. What are you going to do—go around silencing everyone? Besides, you did get in through connections. So what?”

Qiao Lu sighed and looked her sister in the eye. “Sister, didn’t you wonder why I suddenly fell into the lake that day? I’ll tell you the truth—Wang Bin made a move on me in the park when no one was around. Tried to take advantage of me. I tried to get away, we pushed and shoved, and I lost my balance and fell in.”

And that was with the child right there… If she hadn’t fallen in, her innocence might’ve been lost.

“He molested you?” Qiao Yan’s face twitched almost imperceptibly. “That really happened?”

“I’m not lying. This morning he even called me a widow and mocked me for pretending to be pure. If you don’t believe me, ask Qiao An.”

Both sisters turned to Qiao An. The little guy blinked his big round eyes and said to Qiao Yan, “Bad man. Bad uncle.”

Everyone knows—kids don’t lie.

Thinking back to the time Qiao Lu fell into the lake—it had nearly cost her her life, and the child had cried so much her eyes were swollen—Qiao Yan’s anger flared instantly. She no longer felt like defending Wang Bin at all. In fact, she now hated him to her core. How could he be that kind of man?

Any man who would take advantage of a woman clearly had questionable character—there was no way she could entrust her sister’s future happiness to a lecher.

“You really… kept something like that from me.” Qiao Yan rubbed her forehead in frustration. “So what now? What are you going to do?”

Qiao Lu vowed solemnly, “Don’t worry, Sister. Even if I never find a man, I won’t cling to you forever.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Qiao Yan said, thinking she had touched a nerve. “I’m not trying to drive you out. It’s just… if you don’t get married, you’ll have to keep living here. It’s already been half a month. I’m not in a hurry, but your brother-in-law…”

She didn’t finish the sentence, but both of them knew exactly what she meant.

Truth be told, Qiao Lu did feel guilty about making the couple live apart. She had a plan in mind, but wasn’t sure whether Qiao Yan would agree to it.

“Sister, how about this—you lend me some money, I’ll go rent a place and set up a small street stall to make a living. How does that sound?”

Qiao Yan’s reaction was far more intense than she expected. “Set up a stall? You’d be better off going back to the countryside to farm. That’s just profiteering!”

Qiao Lu didn’t agree. “Sister, that hasn’t been called profiteering for ages. And you’re a college graduate too! Our country started reform and opening up in ‘78, and by ‘81 it was already encouraging urban self-employment!”

But since the policies were still new, most people were hesitant, and society remained conservative. As a result, private business still had the stigma of being illegitimate or shady.

Qiao Yan didn’t care whether the government encouraged it or not. As far as she was concerned, the current reality was clear—unless you worked for the state, it wasn’t a “real job.” And she wasn’t the only one who thought so. Grab anyone from the building and they’d say the same thing.

“No. Absolutely not. No street stalls,” she said firmly, unwilling to budge an inch. “Qiao Lu, let’s not even talk about the stall. Just renting a place—where do you think you’re going to find one in this day and age? Even your brother-in-law, as capable as he is, can’t find a place to rent. So I ask you, where are you going to rent one?”

“This city is huge. There’s got to be something. Even if the conditions are bad…”

“You think this is child’s play? It’s too risky. I’m not allowing it.”

“What’s so risky?” a male voice suddenly interrupted their conversation.

Both women turned their heads at once. A man in a cashmere coat, leather shoes, and carrying a briefcase was walking toward them. It was none other than Qiao Lu’s second brother-in-law, Qiao Yan’s husband—Yuan Jianghe.

Qiao Lu lit up like she’d seen a savior and rushed over. “Brother-in-law, I was just talking with Sister about moving out.”

“You’re moving out?” Yuan Jianghe stepped into the house and put down his briefcase. A flicker of light passed through his deep, intelligent eyes.

Qiao Yan shot Qiao Lu a fierce glare. “Don’t listen to her nonsense. She wants to rent a place and start a business. But tell me—are places really that easy to rent nowadays? Is money that easy to earn?”

So it was only a proposal… The brief spark of excitement in Yuan Jianghe’s eyes vanished.

Qiao Lu couldn’t win the argument with Qiao Yan and turned to Yuan Jianghe for help.

Ahem— Her brother-in-law coughed lightly into his fist. Though he agreed with his wife in principle, the reality was that Qiao Lu had been living in their home for half a month—meaning he hadn’t had a proper moment alone with his wife for half a month. Outwardly, he could pretend not to mind, but inwardly, he was suffering.

If his sister-in-law really moved out, he would support it with both hands and feet!

“Your sister has a point… but your idea isn’t bad either…”

Before he could finish, Qiao Yan shot him a sharp glare. “Whose side are you on?!”

Yuan Jianghe immediately folded, raising his hands in surrender. “Right, right… Blind dates. Let’s go with blind dates. Reliable stuff, hehe.”

Qiao Lu: “…”

Qiao Lu’s situation hung over Qiao Yan’s head like a sword, making her so anxious she lost her appetite and couldn’t focus on work all day.

As dusk approached, the mechanical hum of the factory finally stopped. The bell rang out, and thousands of workers poured out of the various workshops and surged toward the factory gates.

Groups of women chatted and laughed as they picked up their children and shopped for groceries, while men slung arms around each other’s shoulders, hurrying home. Some coworkers headed to restaurants in twos and threes for a drink or two—everywhere, the atmosphere was lively and cheerful.

“Qiao Yan, where are you going? This way!”

Qiao Yan turned back and waved to her coworkers. “Zhen Hua, you all go ahead. I have something to take care of.”

“Alright, see you later!”

“Mm.”

Today, Qiao Yan didn’t rush home after work. Instead, she rode her bicycle to a large courtyard house on Ziyuan Street in the eastern part of the city to visit Sister Liu. It was about three kilometers from the chemical factory, a twenty-minute ride.

Sister Liu’s full name was Liu Xiaohong. She was Qiao Yan’s husband’s second uncle’s wife’s cousin—a distant relative, more or less.

All of Qiao Lu’s blind dates had been arranged through her. It wasn’t just because she was a local—she had been a matchmaker for over thirteen years. If you went to her, you were guaranteed to be in good hands!

By this time of day, Liu Xiaohong was already off work. When Qiao Yan arrived, the front gate of the Liu household was wide open. A kerosene stove sat just outside the door, still emitting thin wisps of smoke—looked like the host was getting ready to cook.

When she saw Qiao Yan, Sister Liu quickly set down her vegetables and hurried over to pull her inside. “It’s freezing out—come in, quick!”

The cold wind howled outside. The walk over had nearly frozen Qiao Yan’s hair stiff.

“Sister Liu, are you starting dinner?”

“Yeah. Gotta finish eating quick and crawl into bed—this weather’s too cold.”

Rubbing her hands together, Qiao Yan glanced over at the dining table.

There were coarse grain steamed buns and some pickled radish bits—likely leftovers from lunch. A vegetable basket sat on the table as well, with a bundle of edible wormwood in it. You could stir-fry it or boil it—it was a staple winter dish in Lian’an households.

Sister Liu’s home was more spacious than the shared housing units. One inner room had a bedroom with two beds—she and her mother-in-law shared it. The outer room served as both the living and dining room. In one corner, a folding camp bed was set up for her son, separated from the dining table by a long cloth hanging like a curtain. It was crowded, but by the standards of the time, this setup was considered generous. Some families of six or seven all squeezed into a single room!

Qiao Yan smiled and casually took a seat on a small stool. She greeted, “Sister Liu, is Weiwei  not home yet?”

“Not yet. His school lets out later than we get off work.”

“Oh, I see.”

Qiao Yan smiled. Sister Liu glanced at her while picking through vegetables and asked, “So? You just got off work too? Here about your sister?”

The women in this neighborhood were all sharp—Sister Liu had guessed her reason for coming the moment she arrived.

Qiao Yan smiled slightly. No need for pleasantries now. She got straight to the point: “Yes. I wanted to ask you for help arranging another match.”

“Another match?” Liu Xiaohong’s hands paused. She had a bad feeling. “Wait, wasn’t your sister with that guy… Wang Bin? Didn’t they hit it off?”

Qiao Yan gave a bitter smile. “If they had, I wouldn’t be here.”

“They didn’t?” Liu Xiaohong was surprised, then couldn’t help chuckling. “That makes number eight already!”

“Yeah.” Qiao Yan felt a bit guilty. In Sister Liu’s decade-plus of matchmaking, this was probably the first time she’d encountered someone as picky as her little sister.

After a moment’s thought, Qiao Yan reached into her pants pocket and pulled out two paper bills, stuffing them into Liu Xiaohong’s hands. A closer look—two yuan!

Startled, Liu Xiaohong hurried to push them away.

Qiao Yan gently moved her hand aside. “Sister Liu, I really don’t know what to do with Qiao Lu anymore. I can only trouble you to put a bit more effort into it. Try to pick someone decent. Please.”

“No, come on now, what are you doing? We’re basically family—why are you acting like a stranger?”

“Sister Liu, it’s already been half a month. I feel bad for taking up so much of your time. Please, just accept it.”

“Accept what? You still treating me like an outsider?” Liu Xiaohong was not having it.

“No, it’s because I see you as family that I’m giving this to you.” These days, paying a matchmaker was the norm. Qiao Yan didn’t like owing people favors—not even relatives.

“Don’t worry. Even if you don’t pay me, I’ll still do my best to find a good match for your sister!” Liu Xiaohong said, patting her chest.

Not that the last ones were any good… Qiao Yan grumbled silently, though she kept smiling on the outside. “Thank you so much.”

“Hey, no need to be so polite.” Liu Xiaohong stuffed the money into her pocket and sighed. “You really care a lot about her.”

Qiao Yan gave a bitter smile. “What can I do? She’s my little sister.”