TPW – Chapter 3 Auntie Cries

While Qiao Yan was anxiously waiting to hear back from Sister Liu, Qiao Lu remained completely unaware. With no job to occupy her, she had plenty of free time and spent her days wandering the streets with her son, researching the market.

After two straight days of consideration, Qiao Lu finalized three possible plans.

The first was to return to her old profession: fashion design. But in this era of ration coupons, tailoring required a hefty investment just to purchase raw materials. Besides, most women of this time were handy and skilled—no worse at making clothes than she was. Turning a profit would depend on creativity and innovation. Of course, for someone as experienced as her, that wasn’t too hard, so she marked this as Backup Plan A.

The second option was to sell small goods—things like accessories and household items. This required less capital and there were no concerns about expiry dates. However, the low barrier to entry meant fierce competition. This became Backup Plan B.

The third idea was to make and sell pastries. Before transmigrating, she had learned baking and was good at making desserts. However, with the ration system in place, the main issues were again the cost and sourcing ingredients. Plus, unsold items might spoil. Still, it was worth keeping as Backup Plan C.

After all that analysis, two whole days had flown by, and surprisingly, Qiao Yan hadn’t brought her up once. The peace was almost eerie.

Sure enough, just as Qiao Lu began feeling smug, thinking she had dodged a bullet—Qiao Yan made her move.

That day, when Qiao Lu returned home, she was surprised to see her brother-in-law cooking at the entrance. She walked over, puzzled, but before she could ask, someone called out to her excitedly from inside the house.

“Qiao Lu! Qiao Lu! You’re finally back—come in, quick!”

Qiao Lu looked up and met a radiant, overly enthusiastic face.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she froze in shock. “Sister Liu? What are you doing here?”

Liu Xiaohong jumped to her feet and excitedly pulled Qiao Lu into the house. Her wrinkled face, beaming with joy, looked like a blooming gerbera daisy.

“Come, come, Qiao Lu! I’ve been waiting for you forever. Why are you just getting home? I brought you lots of young men today—go on, pick one! I guarantee there’s someone you’ll like!”

Good heavens—she wasn’t going to stop until Qiao Lu got married, was she?!

The little wooden table, usually reserved for meals, was now cluttered with seven or eight photographs. All of them featured older men, and the black-and-white photos with their dated aesthetics gave Qiao Lu the uncanny feeling that she was being matched with someone’s uncle.

A wave of suffocating pressure bore down on her, making it hard to breathe. She even started to think longingly about going back to the countryside—at least there, no one was pestering her to get married!

“Sister, let’s just stop the matchmaking. Even if I marry a city man, I can’t transfer my rural household registration. I’d still be a rural resident.”

In the early 1980s, changing one’s household registration (hukou) was incredibly difficult—especially transferring from rural to urban. It wasn’t like you could simply marry a city dweller and automatically become an urban resident. That just wasn’t how it worked in this era.

Qiao Yan frowned and pulled her over to sit beside her. “How can you say that’s the same? If you marry a city man, you can live in the city for the rest of your life. Even if you can’t transfer your hukou right away, we can figure something out later. But if you don’t get married, you’ll never leave the countryside!”

Qiao Yan’s dislike of the countryside ran bone-deep.

The saying goes, the emperor loves his firstborn, the commoners love their youngest. Of the three siblings in the Qiao family, Qiao Yan—being the middle child—was practically invisible in the household.

Their eldest brother was the first son, and their parents pinned all their hopes on him.

The youngest sister was the baby of the family. From the age of one, she had outstanding looks. People in the village often joked that she was a golden phoenix born in a chicken coop. Their parents doted on her, never even letting her do chores, treating her like a precious treasure.

When Qiao Yan brought Qiao Lu into the city half a month ago, the neighbors in the apartment compound thought she must’ve come from some big city. Despite her rustic clothes, her fair skin and delicate features didn’t resemble a village girl at all.

But Qiao Yan’s own childhood was nothing like that. In addition to taking on all the household chores, she had to care for her younger sister. Until Qiao Lu was five, Qiao Yan even had to take her along to school. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say Qiao Yan was half a mother to Qiao Lu.

Born into such a poor and unjust family, if Qiao Yan hadn’t fought for herself, she would have been stuck in that little mountain village for life.

She was thankful that her parents hadn’t forced her to drop out of school like most rural families would’ve—but she also resented all the suffering that place had brought her. Sure, hardship forged her into who she was, but that didn’t mean she had to be grateful for it.

She had fought with everything she had to escape it—and never wanted to look back.

Recalling the past brought endless sorrow and tears. Qiao Yan rubbed the corners of her eyes—and to everyone’s surprise, she actually started crying.

Qiao Lu and Liu Xiaohong were both stunned by Qiao Yan’s sudden tears. Even Qiao An looked at her in confusion.

“Mom, Auntie’s crying.” Children always speak their minds. He simply said what he saw, which made the adults feel a little awkward.

Qiao Lu rubbed her son’s little head and instinctively glanced toward the door. If her brother-in-law saw this, he might think she had bullied Qiao Yan.

But Qiao Lu wasn’t good at comforting people. She was an only child, and since her parents were always busy with work, she was mostly raised by her grandparents. Her grandparents didn’t cry, and neither did her childhood playmates, so she had no experience in comforting anyone.

Besides, in the memories of this body’s original owner, Qiao Yan had always been like Iron Man—strong and indomitable. Second Sister was a formidable woman who could catch mice and squash cockroaches, who could handle both domestic chores and formal occasions. At just five years old, she was already carrying her on her back up the hills to forage for wild vegetables and pigweed, and by seven, she was taking her to school in her arms.

She was a strong woman, like a robot—never crying, never complaining.

But now, she was crying—just because she didn’t want to go on a blind date.

Qiao Lu was at a complete loss. She sat stiffly, not daring to move a muscle.

“I’m fine,” Qiao Yan sniffled, gently rubbing the back of Qiao Lu’s hand. Despite their parents’ favoritism, she couldn’t bring herself to resent her little sister.

Back then, whenever there was something tasty, their parents always made sure the youngest got it first. Then they’d think of the eldest brother. And only if Qiao Lu reminded them would they remember there was also a middle child—Qiao Yan.

But by then, everything had already been divided up. What was left for her?

In the end, it was always Qiao Lu who pitied her and shared half of her treats.

Blood runs deep between sisters. Qiao Yan could never bring herself to hate her.

“Qiao Lu, you know how hard life is in the countryside. You kept writing to me complaining that the village thugs were harassing you. Why do you think I went through all that trouble to bring you into the city? And now look at you—picky about this one, dismissive of that one. You’re just a village girl, how can you be so particular?”

Qiao Lu’s face turned awkward. She replied helplessly, “I… I didn’t mean to be.”

“Qiao Lu, listen to your sister. If there’s something you don’t like, just endure it. After a while, you’ll get used to anything. Looks, personality—it’s all just a matter of habit.”

Endure it? What was she, a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle? She’d rather die than “endure” that!

Feeling conflicted—and afraid she’d make Qiao Yan cry again—Qiao Lu hastily started flipping through the photos on the table. “Alright, let me take a look.”

She went through photo after photo, her head starting to ache and her irritation building. “Isn’t there anyone… I mean, anyone even slightly younger?”

She really couldn’t bring herself to go on a date with all these “uncles.”

“They’re all second-marriage men. How young do you think they can be? And you, a country girl, acting all picky,” Liu Xiaohong teased with a laugh.

Seeing Qiao Lu stay silent, Liu Xiaohong pulled a photo from her hand. “Look at this one—Old Li from the steel factory. Isn’t he great? Grade-six worker! He makes seventy yuan a month!”

“Wow, that much?” Qiao Yan exclaimed in surprise. “That’s more than what my husband makes—really impressive!”

In the early 1980s, a typical worker’s salary ranged from 30 to 50 yuan. Fifty yuan could support a family of six or seven—so seventy was solidly middle-class.

But Qiao Lu couldn’t muster any excitement. Her delicate brows furrowed. “He doesn’t look young… How old is he?”

Liu Xiaohong smiled. “Not too bad—he’s forty-one this year.”

Qiao Lu: “…That’s way too old!”

A full twenty years older! Even for an age-gap marriage, that was extreme!

Even Qiao Yan, who had just been singing his praises, didn’t look too pleased anymore. “Yeah, that’s old. My sister’s only twenty-three.”

Any older and he could pass for her father.

“Is that so?” Liu Xiaohong gave an awkward smile, then quickly flipped to another photo. “How about this one—Little Song from the chemical factory? He’s only twenty-nine. Tall, strong, dependable—definitely a good catch!”

“Mm, this one is young,” Qiao Yan nodded, looking somewhat satisfied.

“How many kids does he have?” Qiao Lu asked.

“Four,” Liu Xiaohong answered.

Pfft—

Qiao Lu nearly choked on her own saliva.

“No way. I already have Qiao An—I can’t take care of five kids. No, absolutely not.” Marrying him would be like becoming a nanny. She wasn’t about to do that.

Qiao Yan nodded in agreement. “Pick another. Five kids is a bit much.”

Liu Xiaohong kept flipping. “Then what about Xiao Luo from the radio factory? He’s thirty, has just one kid, honest and hardworking!”

The sisters simultaneously leaned in to look at the photo—one glance, and their souls practically fled their bodies.

Cold sweat dripped down Qiao Lu’s back. “Hehe… he does look honest, but his mouth’s a bit crooked, one eye’s off-center, his nose looks like a mountain bump, and what’s going on with those eyebrows? Did someone draw a line with a charcoal pencil? And so young, but barely any hair on his head?”

Liu Xiaohong: “……”

“Ahem, next, next one.” Qiao Yan quickly pulled the photo away and flipped it over face-down—out of sight, out of mind.

They flipped through all eight photos on the table, and Qiao Lu managed to find a reason to reject each one. What’s worse, her criticisms were all well-founded and made perfect sense—so much so that even Qiao Yan got dragged into her nitpicking. The two sisters, working in perfect sync, didn’t pick a single one!

Eventually, even Liu Xiaohong lost her temper, though she still found them amusing. “I give up! Qiao Yan, your sister isn’t suited for second-marriage men. I think only a man who’s never been married would pass her standards!”

“Hey, Sister Liu, you’re actually right about that,” Qiao Lu chimed in lazily. “I like men who’ve never been married. It’s nice if they’re a bit pure. Why must I go for someone who’s divorced?”

After speaking, she flopped down on the bed with a languid air of confidence.

Seeing this, Qiao An bent over to pull off his shoes and huffed his way into her arms. Mother and son cozied up together in pure comfort and contentment.

Qiao Yan chuckled and lightly swatted her on the shoulder. “Get up. Don’t make excuses. You think any never-married man would go for a woman with a kid?”

Lying flat on her back, Qiao Lu held down her wiggling son and replied, “This world’s full of surprises. Who says no one likes single moms?”

“Keep dreaming in broad daylight,” Qiao Yan muttered, pulling her up. Still not ready to give up, she turned to Liu Xiaohong and asked, “Sister Liu, do you have any more candidates?”

“Well…” Liu Xiaohong looked troubled. After hesitating a while, she finally said, “There’s one more, but you probably won’t be interested.”

Qiao Lu immediately echoed, “If you’re saying we won’t be interested, then we definitely won’t be. Let’s just skip it.”

“Shoo!” Qiao Yan shot her a look. “Better to be safe than sorry. What if we actually like this one?”

With that mindset, Qiao Yan asked, “Do you have a photo?”

“Yes, let me look,” Liu Xiaohong said, rummaging through the indigo-dyed cloth bag she carried with her. “Here. Didn’t you say he had to be a state-owned enterprise worker? That’s why I hesitated to introduce this guy to your sister. He’s never been married, single, tall—about twenty-four or twenty-five, I think. Aside from a handsome face and a run-down old apartment, he doesn’t have anything else. So I wasn’t sure if you’d be interested.”

Qiao Lu’s attention was caught by one word.

“Handsome face? How handsome?” she asked, craning her neck to peek—but Qiao Yan’s body was in the way, so she quickly rolled out of bed to get a better look.

And when she saw it—she was stunned.

Whoa. So handsome. Like, poster-boy, magazine-cover kind of handsome!

Qiao Lu’s voice cracked with excitement: “Sister, this one is way better than all the others!”