TPW – Chapter 32

“Qiao An, come on! Let’s take you to our secret base!”

Three weeks before the Spring Festival, Wu Guifang took Qiao Lu to the farmers’ market to stock up on New Year’s goods—dried foods, candies, liquor, pastries, and so on—to get ahead of the crowds and avoid shortages later.

Despite still being three weeks out, the market was already bustling with long lines at every stall. Clearly, everyone was eager and full of anticipation for the New Year.

Qiao Lu couldn’t help but wonder—was Xu Haizhou’s stall this busy too? They’d made a clear profit of 1,800 yuan in just two months. If he sold hot items during the New Year rush, wouldn’t he rake in even more?

Tsk—suddenly, the idea of buying a house didn’t seem so far-fetched anymore.

Just imagining owning a home with a private bathroom filled Qiao Lu with joy.

After shopping and returning home, Qiao An and his little friends still hadn’t come back. Qiao Lu headed into the kitchen to start cooking. Halfway through, she heard a familiar burst of cheerful laughter ring out.

Little Qiao An’s short legs had barely stepped into the courtyard when he started shouting, “Mama! Mama!” halfway up the path, drawing surprised glances from the other aunts and uncles in the yard.

Since when had this kid become so outgoing?

“Mama, Mama!”

Like a little rocket, he shot into the kitchen and hugged Qiao Lu’s leg tightly.

“Mama, Mama, I have to tell you something!” He couldn’t wait to share his joy from the day.

Qiao Lu paused what she was doing, wiped her hands on her apron, then crouched down and kissed his cheek.

He’d been playing all afternoon—his cheeks were cold to the touch.

“What is it, baby? Where did you go play with your big brothers and sisters just now?”

“We went to the secret base!” Qiao An used his little hands to mimic his words, opening and closing them as he spoke. “Mama, I just played hide-and-seek with Brother Kangkang and the others! They always found me last!”

Looking at her son’s bright, excited face, Qiao Lu was suddenly reminded of how timid he’d been when they first arrived in the city… Compared to then, this Qiao An seemed like a completely different child.

Now, he was confident, spoke loudly, often smiled, and his eyes sparkled with energy.

Qiao Lu’s heart melted just watching him.

She lovingly patted his little head and kissed his forehead. “Wow, you’re so good at hiding! Where did you hide?”

Qiao An covered his mouth and lowered his voice, acting all mysterious: “Mama, I’ll only tell you… I hid in…”

After listening, Qiao Lu raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Inside a metal barrel? That’s amazing!”

“Mhm! Mama, I think I’m awesome too!” The little guy was becoming more and more confident—he didn’t hold back when praising himself now.

“Mama, I also let Brother Kangkang, Sister Nannan, and Brother Taotao wear my panda ear hat! They said I’m their good friend now!”

“Wow, An’an is so generous! You deserve a reward.” She flicked one of the panda ears on his hat. “Then Mama congratulates An’an on making three good friends!”

Qiao An didn’t really understand what “congratulates” meant, but he clapped his hands happily anyway. “Mhm! I congratulate Mama too!”

Qiao Lu laughed. “Congratulate me for what?”

Qiao An tilted his head, his little eyes darting around mischievously. “Congratulate Mama… for making yummy food for me later!”

Pfft—

“You little rascal.”

…

As the sun set, it was rush hour. The streets were packed with bicycles and people in gray cotton coats, the golden afterglow casting a warm, fiery hue on everyone’s face.

In another couple of weeks, it’d be the Spring Festival, and the workers in the compound would get a rare three-day holiday.

In fact, back in the 60s and 70s, there were about ten years when the Spring Festival didn’t come with any days off. At the time, the most common “festive” activities weren’t hanging couplets or giving red envelopes, but eating “remember-the-bitterness, cherish-the-sweetness” meals and participating in extra labor—so much so that the usual “slow season” of winter became another busy one.

After such a hard year, not getting time off during the New Year left everyone resentful. Thankfully, with later reforms, the Spring Festival finally came with a three-day holiday.

In the evening, Qiao Lu held her son’s hand while a few of the little kids trotted up behind to chat with Qiao An.

The things kids said in their innocent, childlike voices were often hilarious.

“Qiao An, are you guys eating meat again tonight?”

Qiao An: “Mhm, we didn’t finish the meat from lunch. Mama’s heating it up in the pot.”

Even reheated chicken still tasted so good!

Chen Jingkang’s eyes lit up with envy: “Wow, your family has so much meat you can’t even finish it! My dad said your dad just runs a stall, so you guys must be poor.”

Qiao An didn’t understand. “Brother Kangkang, what does ‘poor’ mean?”

Chen Jingkang replied, “It means no money. He said your family has no money!”

Qiao An pouted unhappily: “We do have money. My daddy has money. He’s not poor.”

No one could argue with that. Daddy gave them money to buy meat, candy, and even new clothes. His daddy was definitely rich.

Chen Jingkang sighed, thinking about Qiao An’s meat and candy. He couldn’t even smile anymore. “I’m so jealous of you.”

If only he had a rich stepdad like Uncle Xu. Sigh—

As the two kids chatted, a toddler suddenly waddled through the compound gate. It was the two-year-old daughter from the Shen family next door. She had developmental delays, and even at two, she could barely walk steadily, always needing an adult to hold her hand to go far.

As soon as the little girl entered, she toddled over to the loquat tree to play in the mud. When Qiao Lu approached with Qiao An, the toddler spotted him, her eyes lighting up as she unsteadily reached out—wanting to touch the panda ears on his hat.

Qiao An recoiled in alarm, covering his head and taking a step back. Right away, Chen Jingkang dashed forward and blocked the toddler with his body. At eight years old, he was a full head taller than the little girl—like a wall standing between them.

“Hey! Hey! You! Don’t come any closer! I saw you touching mud just now!”

The little girl froze on the spot, looking confused and pitiful—clearly startled.

Chen Jingkang turned into the guardian spirit of the panda hat—no dirty little hands from any baby could be allowed to touch it! He was determined to defend his good friend’s hat to the bitter end!

The little girl pouted and turned to her mom. “Mommy! I want to wash my hands!”

“There, over by the pump, there’s a basin. Go wash them yourself.” Her mom was chatting animatedly with a group of aunties, clearly not in the mood to help her daughter.

The little girl wasn’t happy. Her voice rose. “Mommy! The water’s cold. You wash!”

“You’re a big girl, do it yourself!” the mom snapped.

The little girl’s lips quivered, and soon fat tears were rolling down her cheeks as she cried in grievance.

Ever since she became a mom, Qiao Lu couldn’t bear to see children cry. She quickly rolled up her sleeves, carried the girl to the pump, and helped her wash her hands. The water was indeed icy, but the little one didn’t cry out or complain—she just blinked her curious eyes, studying Qiao Lu.

Even though her eyes weren’t as big as Qiao An’s, and her features not as delicate nor her skin as fair, she was still an adorable child. Being stared at like that made Qiao Lu’s heart melt.

The little girl reached out with a small hand, her eyes fixed longingly on the panda ears on Qiao An’s hat. The fuzzy little ears swayed gently in the breeze, bobbing along with every movement of his head—soft, adorable, irresistible.

“An’an, let the little sister touch your hat for a bit,” Qiao Lu said gently.

Qiao An obediently took off his hat—right as a gust of wind blew, a single cowlick stood straight up at his crown.

The little girl only touched the panda ears twice before she stopped crying. Watching her, Qiao An suddenly felt a bit proud.

His mama’s panda ears were amazing! They could even cheer up a baby!

Afterward, the little girl smiled contentedly, revealing tiny millet-like baby teeth. Her chubby face lit up as she looked at Qiao Lu and chirped sweetly, “I like you!”

Qiao An: “!!!”

He gripped Qiao Lu’s hand like a startled rabbit. “My mama can only be liked by me!”

Then he took a determined step with his short little legs and began running. “Mama, quick, quick! Let’s go!”

If they didn’t leave fast, his mama was going to be stolen!

He tugged Qiao Lu all the way to the loquat tree. There were lots of people here—he felt safe. And the little girl’s mom was also nearby, so she probably wouldn’t try to take his mama again.

Qiao Lu couldn’t hold back her laughter.

…

In the 1980s, material life was far richer compared to the ’60s and ’70s. Back then, celebrating the New Year meant eating “bitter-sweet memory meals,” but now, people could have fish and meat—at least on New Year’s Eve.

That made Spring Festival the biggest celebration of the year.

To have a good New Year, people were willing to spend money on holiday goods. Those with tight budgets would start saving in advance just for it. These days, even the evening gossip was all about Spring Festival preparations.

“Only about three weeks left, right? Have you all bought your dried goods yet?”

Wu Guifang laughed, “We did, we did! I took Qiao Lu to the market this afternoon. Gosh, it was packed. I’m still sore in the ribs from all the pushing.”

She had fought tooth and nail to snatch a chunk of pork back fat. Qiao Lu, with her good foresight, didn’t join the scrum. Rather than fatty pork, she preferred the less popular lean cuts and pork offal, planning to make them into braised dishes—fragrant, crisp, and perfect with rice.

“What kind of good stuff did you buy to hurt your ribs like that?”

Wu Guifang beamed with pride. “Pork back fat! A huge slab—three jin!”

Oh my goodness! Just think how much delicious lard that would make!

Everyone was green with envy. Aunt Tian eyed her and grumbled, “Why didn’t you take me along? I’d have happily bruised my ribs for a few jin of back fat!”

“Hahaha—oh, you’re too funny!”

They bantered back and forth until the topic inevitably shifted to Qiao Lu.

“Hey, you and your boy—are you going back north with Xu Haizhou for the New Year?”

Qiao Lu shook her head. “I don’t know yet, haven’t asked him.”

“Oh, you definitely will. Your man always goes north for the Spring Festival.”

Qiao Lu was surprised but didn’t show it. “Oh, then I guess we probably will.”

Lin Caihe was stitching shoe soles as she chimed in, “Going back sounds fun—more lively. He probably has a lot of relatives up north, and you haven’t even met his parents yet, right?”

Song Qingping nodded. “Yeah, you’re married and haven’t met the in-laws? No way, you definitely have to go.”

“I’ll ask him tonight then,” Qiao Lu said. Right now, Xu Haizhou was at the bathhouse again. Maybe it was just a northern habit?

Sometimes fate really had a sense of timing. Just as they were talking about whether or not they’d go north, a voice called from outside: “Mail for Number 88, Xu family! Mail for Number 88, Xu family! Anyone home? Come get your letter!”

Liu Xiaohong had just returned from the dry goods shop with her son and a jug of vinegar. She ran into the mailman at the gate.

“Whose mail is it?” she asked.

Fang Youwei glanced at the mailman. “No idea. He said Xu family—which one?”

In the 1980s, receiving a letter could stir up an entire courtyard. Once someone heard a name called, all the families with that surname would rush out, hoping the mail was for them.

“Xu family? You mean Xu Simiao from the outer courtyard or Xu Haizhou from the inner one?” Liu Xiaohong asked the mailman.

“Number 88, Xu Haizhou,” the mailman replied.

“Oh…” Liu Xiaohong frowned. “But the whole courtyard is Number 88. Don’t you know that? You must be new.”

The young mailman paused and scratched his head. “Yeah, I’m new.”

“What happened to little Luo who used to do the route?” she asked again.

“His leg’s injured, so I’m covering for him.”

“Oh…” Liu Xiaohong looked him up and down, then suddenly grinned. “Young man, you look quite young. Got a girlfriend yet?”

Forgive Liu Xiaohong—her matchmaker instincts were acting up again.

The young man, looking to be in his early twenties, flushed red at the question.

She started probing about his family background. It looked like she was about to dig up eight generations of his ancestry when her son, Fang Youwei, quickly pulled her back.

“Aiya, Mom, stop it. He’s still got mail to deliver!”

The young postman gave Fang Youwei a grateful look. Just then, Xu Simiao from the outer courtyard showed up, realized it wasn’t her mail, and sent someone to call Xu Haizhou from the inner courtyard.

A moment later, Qiao Lu came out, holding her son’s hand.

“Coming, coming!” She jogged over, afraid to keep them waiting. “Excuse me, is it a letter for my husband? Xu Haizhou?”

The young postman checked the envelope and confirmed, “Yes, that’s right.”

He handed the letter over.

Qiao Lu accepted it with both hands, beaming brightly. “Thank you for your hard work.”

The young postman had only been on the job for a few days. He’d seen all kinds of people, but never someone so polite. His face flushed, and he couldn’t help but glance at her. And with that one look—he blushed even harder.

Whose young wife is this? She’s way too pretty…

Qiao Lu didn’t notice his reaction. After receiving the letter, she turned back into the house, still holding her son’s hand.

The postman scratched his head, lingered a bit, then hopped on his bike and rode off in a flash. Liu Xiaohong stared at his departing figure and muttered dreamily, “He seems like a decent kid… young too, and with an iron rice bowl… hmm, just right for Zhou’s youngest daughter!”

Fang Youwei: “…”

The letter was from the North. The sender’s name wasn’t written on the envelope, but even without thinking too hard, it was obviously from one of Xu Haizhou’s siblings or parents. If not, then probably a friend from his old hometown.

Qiao Lu was dying to know what was written inside. But since it was a personal letter, she couldn’t just open it outright. For the twenty minutes Xu Haizhou was away, Qiao Lu was consumed with curiosity.

As soon as he stepped through the courtyard gate, towel and clothes in hand, Qiao Lu rushed over and linked her arm through his, guiding him inside. The neighbors couldn’t help but tease.

“Aiya! Look how clingy they are! Just a short time apart and she already misses him.”

“Hahaha—”

Qiao Lu laughed awkwardly and quickly shut the main door, finally cutting off the teasing glances.

“Hurry, hurry.” She sat him down at the table and pushed the letter toward him. “You’ve got mail!”

Xu Haizhou hung the towel on a coat rack and, seeing his wife so eager, chuckled. “Who’s it from?”

“Don’t know. It’s from up north—probably your family or someone from your hometown.”

“From the north?” He raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“Yeah, go on, open it.” Qiao Lu was intensely curious about his background.

Xu Haizhou didn’t seem all that eager, but seeing her excitement, he smiled. “If you’re that curious, you open it.”

“But it’s your private mail… isn’t that kind of inappropriate?” Qiao Lu hesitated.

“It’s fine. It’s probably nothing secret anyway.”

A man with a clear conscience has nothing to hide.

“You read it then,” he said.

“All right!” Qiao Lu lit up with glee and “reluctantly” opened the envelope.

“Ahem, the sender is Xu Haiping.”

Xu Haizhou nodded. “That’s my eldest brother.”

Qiao Lu smiled and began reading aloud:

“Dear Haizhou:

It’s been a long time. How have you been? Everything is well at home. Father’s illness is stable, so don’t worry. I have many things I want to tell you, but once I picked up the pen, I didn’t know where to start…”

She paused to glance at Xu Haizhou’s face. Seeing that he was calm and unreadable, she continued reading:

“So I’ll start from here. Haizhou, the family received news of your marriage two months ago. But we haven’t written back until now. I’m sure, as clever as you are, you can guess why.

You’ve made many mistakes in your life—this the whole family knows well. But now, we believe your marriage is the biggest mistake of all. No exceptions…”

“Uh… cough cough cough…” Qiao Lu choked and immediately slammed the brakes, hurriedly stuffing the letter into her son’s arms. “Ahem, An’an, you read it! Didn’t Mommy teach you lots of characters lately? Time to put them to use.”

The little guy was listening intently, his head tilted up in confusion, his dark eyes wide: “But Mommy, I’m only three and a half. I don’t know how to read a letter.”

Qiao Lu gave an awkward laugh and opened the letter again. The crisp rustle of the paper echoed in the room. “Come on, give it a try…”

“I don’t wanna! I can’t read it!” Qiao An pushed her hand away and burst into giggles, running off.

Qiao Lu chased after him. The two of them ran circles around the dining table, laughing and playing, doing everything but finishing the letter.

Xu Haizhou, half exasperated and half amused, stepped forward and scooped both of them into his arms.

The warmth of his chest radiated through Qiao Lu’s sweater, filling her with a deep sense of comfort and safety…

“I’ll read it myself.”

Qiao Lu stuffed the letter into his hands, scooped up their son, and dashed into the bedroom, shutting the door tightly behind her.

Xu Haizhou glanced down and read the letter in a few quick sweeps. His expression gradually grew serious.

“…But now, we believe your marriage is the biggest mistake of your life.

How many times can a person marry in their lifetime? Shouldn’t a matter as serious as marriage be discussed with one’s parents in advance?

Your impulsiveness makes me feel like you’ve yet to truly grow up.

But you’re already 25—not a fifteen-year-old boy anymore. Why can’t you be more mature?

I’ve heard you’re doing quite well in the south, even sending 30 yuan to our parents each month. Seems like you’re earning more than I do as a college graduate.

So with your qualifications, I really don’t understand why you’d marry a divorced woman with a child—

And not just that, a woman from the countryside.

Haizhou, if you’re still burdened by guilt over what happened before, let me tell you—it’s unnecessary. I’ve already forgiven you. You’re still my good little brother.

Between brothers, we shouldn’t let the past drive a wedge between us.

Haizhou, with the New Year approaching, we’ve all missed you deeply after a whole year apart.

Since what’s done is done, I know saying more won’t help.

But I still hope you’ll bring your wife and child home before the New Year—

At least let us see this woman you insisted on marrying,

and what kind of charm she supposedly has.”

—Your brother, Xu Haiping