TPW – Chapter 33

Dinner that evening was rather quiet. Sensitive as always, Qiao An naturally noticed the unusual atmosphere at home. He ate his meal silently, not daring to speak.

Afterward, Xu Haizhou volunteered to do the dishes. Qiao Lu sat by the fire basin with Qiao An in her arms, warming themselves as she rubbed cheeks with her son.

“Daddy is angry. An’an, go cheer him up.”

The little one stayed curled up in Qiao Lu’s arms, his eyes fixed on the busy figure by the water pump. “Mommy, I’m scared.”

“Why are you scared?” Qiao Lu scratched his chin.

“If Daddy is angry, will he hit people?” Qiao An turned his head and looked at her.

Qiao Lu curved her lips in a smile. “Of course not. You didn’t do anything wrong. Why would he hit you?”

“Then why don’t you go cheer up Daddy?” Qiao An asked seriously.

Qiao Lu: “…”

Sometimes having a clever child wasn’t entirely a good thing.

Ahem—

She was just… avoiding the awkwardness. Even though she had been married to Xu Haizhou for two months and they’d done everything married couples do, they hadn’t been together long, and she’d never seen him angry before. The letter today had been way too awkward—what if he was upset because of her?

So she wanted her son to go over and act cute to ease the tension.

Under Qiao Lu’s coaxing, little Qiao An hesitantly walked toward Xu Haizhou.

In the dead of winter, the cold was so bitter that no matter how many layers you wore, it never seemed to warm you up outside.

Running from the house to the courtyard, Qiao An’s face was chilled by the wind. He tiptoed to stand behind Xu Haizhou and, pulling a small hand out of his sleeve, cautiously poked Xu Haizhou’s arm with one finger.

“Daddy… Daddy?” he said as he poked, tilting his head to observe his expression.

“Hm? What’s wrong, An’an?” Xu Haizhou didn’t turn around. He just sped up washing the dishes—he wanted to finish quickly and get back inside to the fire.

“Daddy, don’t be mad. An’an’s scared.”

That one sentence left Xu Haizhou completely puzzled. He glanced at him with a chuckle, “Daddy’s not angry. What are you talking about, An’an?”

“Mommy and I both think you’re angry. But I don’t want Daddy to be mad.” After all, he hadn’t said a single word during dinner—wasn’t that a sign of being angry?

When he was upset, he didn’t like to talk either. Just like Daddy!

“I’m not mad. And I’m definitely not mad at An’an. Why would you be scared of me?” If he hadn’t been busy with his hands, Xu Haizhou would’ve ruffled the boy’s hair.

The words from that tiny mouth were just too endearing.

A breeze blew by, turning the little one’s cheeks bright red, like ripe apples. He squatted quietly beside Xu Haizhou, his long lashes fluttering with the wind. So well-behaved. Even the milky baby scent on him could be smelled through the cold air.

With a babyish voice and a serious little face, he said, “Because when people are angry, they yell and hit others. I don’t think Daddy would, but I’m still scared.”

He was really scared of getting hit. Every time he saw the older kids in the courtyard being punished by their moms and dads, he ached for them!

“I never will. Daddy will never hit An’an. You’re such a good boy—how could I bear to?” Xu Haizhou kissed his cheek with affection, making the little guy giggle shyly and bite his lower lip.

Good, Daddy wasn’t angry anymore. Now he wasn’t scared.

His big eyes blinked, and he beamed. Then, happily, he stuck his hands into the water basin. “Daddy, I’ll help you wash!”

“Thank you, son.”

One big and one little person washed dishes together in the courtyard. Qiao Lu leaned against the doorway, watching them. The scene was heartwarmingly sweet.

She had purposely heated the water to be comfortably warm, so their hands wouldn’t freeze. The two of them washed the dishes with energy, giggling and chatting, like they were playing some fun game.

After finishing and going back inside, Xu Haizhou put the dishes away and suddenly walked over to wrap his arms around Qiao Lu’s waist. He buried his face in her shoulder and nuzzled into her. The warmth of her skin clashed with the coldness of his nose, making Qiao Lu shiver.

“What’s this? Clinging like a kid,” she teased. Even Qiao An wasn’t this clingy today.

“Let’s rest early tonight.” His voice was soft and warm, but there was a subtle trace of weariness buried in his tone. His breath tickled her neck.

Qiao Lu shrank her neck and chuckled. “Sure. I’ll take An’an to wash up.”

“Mm.”

Ever since opening that letter, it wasn’t just Xu Haizhou who’d felt off—Qiao Lu had been preoccupied too. The words from the letter kept floating into her mind.

Unlike her, Qiao An was too energetic. Even as he got ready for bed, he kept chattering away.

“Mommy, I’ve learned so many characters! Can I read books by myself now?” he asked innocently.

Under Qiao Lu’s guidance, Qiao An had learned fifteen simple two-stroke characters, like “儿 (child), 十 (ten), 七 (seven), 八 (eight), 了 (le)…”

Qiao Lu poked his forehead, and the little guy, caught off guard, lost his balance and toppled straight back onto the pillow.

Qiao Lu chuckled as she helped him back up. “What are you thinking? Of course not. You’ve only just started learning—you’re already dreaming of beating the final boss?”

As she applied balm to his face, the soft, chubby cheeks felt smooth to the touch.

With his face being gently rubbed by his mom, Qiao An spoke unclearly, “What boss?”

Qiao Lu shook her head. “It’s nothing. I just meant that you’re not ready to read books by yourself yet. You wouldn’t understand them.”

The little guy pouted. “But Mommy said I could read the letter today.”

“You said you couldn’t read it,” Qiao Lu reminded him. Not only did he say he couldn’t, he even ran away when asked to try. She’d chased him for ages and still didn’t catch him.

Xu Haizhou also laughed at him, giving his little pudgy paw a squeeze. Compared to when he first came, the scrawny little monkey had turned into a plump little piglet.

Qiao An nodded like a pecking chick. “But Mommy said I could read.”

“Then why didn’t you read it this afternoon?” Qiao Lu asked.

“Because I can’t,” Qiao An said earnestly.

Qiao Lu replied, “And yet you say you want to read books.”

Qiao An reasoned, “Mommy said I could read the letter, so I can read books too.”

Qiao Lu: “……”

She was getting dizzy trying to follow his logic. She pinched his cheek. “Alright, enough chatting. Time to sleep.”

“Wait, Mommy! I still have one more question,” Qiao An said, grabbing her hand as she tried to pull up the covers.

Qiao Lu paused. “What is it?”

The little one blinked his big doe eyes and stared at her without blinking. “Can I still play with Brother Kangkang and the others tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

“They’ll still play with me, right?” Qiao An asked a little anxiously.

“Of course they will. Aren’t you already good friends with them?”

“Yeah, that’s right. I’m already their good friend,” he said, reassured.

That definite answer settled his heart. He even smiled in his sleep.

…

Only after coaxing the child to sleep did the couple finally have time to cuddle.

“What’s wrong? Still feeling down?” Qiao Lu asked.

Tonight was rare—Qiao Lu wasn’t the one snuggling in his arms; it was the other way around. Xu Haizhou lay on her chest like a child, hugging her tightly, nuzzling her shoulder, gently inhaling her scent as if trying to draw comfort or something to lift his spirits from her presence.

“No. With you and our son by my side, how could I not feel okay?”

Qiao Lu smiled silently and rubbed the back of his head. “Sweet-talking to cheer me up?”

“It’s the truth,” he replied, his voice low and husky, with the softness unique to late-night tones.

Outside, the cold wind howled, sweeping up fallen leaves that rustled against the ground. The desolation only made the warmth inside feel cozier.

Listening to the wind, Xu Haizhou pecked her lips. “Do you know why I’m upset?”

Qiao Lu shifted slightly and placed her hands on his shoulders. “It’s because of that letter, right?”

He gently rubbed her shoulder and said, “My older brother said… I only married you to spite him.”

No one knew just how bitter he’d felt when he read those words.

How could it be spite? It was clearly love at first sight. It was clearly because he liked her, clearly because he wanted to marry her, to have a future with her.

You could say it was “lust at first sight,” maybe, but never a decision made out of spite.

He had never even been angry—how could there have been spite?

Qiao Lu exhaled slowly. So that was what had put him in a bad mood… She’d been terrified. She thought it was the family letter making him question whether marrying her had been the right decision.

She thought he was regretting it…

She sighed, finally feeling the weight lift from her chest. Truth be told, she didn’t have much confidence either. In love, women always carried a secret, quiet sense of unease more than men did.

“Tell me more. About your family.”

The air fell into an odd, heavy silence—you could hear a pin drop.

After a long pause, Xu Haizhou finally spoke, voice rough, “Qiao Lu, I’ve always been serious about you. Never a trace of pretense.”

His sudden declaration of love caught Qiao Lu off guard. Her voice wavered slightly, a small nervousness she didn’t even realize she had.

They’d been married for two months—didn’t she already know what kind of man he was? Of course, his words made her happy, but she preferred actions over sweet talk. She didn’t need to hear it; she wanted to see it.

“Mm.” In the darkness, Qiao Lu slowly reached out and cupped his face. Her fingertips were warm, his skin cool. “I know. I believe you. Now tell me more—about your family, and about your brother.”

It had been two months since they married, and Xu Haizhou had always glossed over anything about his family. Only now, after the letter, did he finally let go of that weight and begin to open up.

“My older brother is three years older than me. We were really close growing up.” Cuddled up under the blankets, his face close to hers, he began to recount the past.

Xu Haizhou was born in a northern city to a dual-income family. From a young age, his life had been happy and stable. His father was a level-six fitter at a steel plant, and his mother was a teacher. But when Xu Haizhou was eleven, his mother had an accident and injured her leg, leaving her unable to stand for long periods. She had to quit her job.

When the Xu brothers were young, they practically grew up wearing the same pair of underpants—they were that close. To such an extent that, in 1972, when Xu Haiping was 18 and just six months away from graduating high school, he volunteered to join the “Up to the Mountains and Down to the Countryside” movement. He did this to prevent his younger brother Xu Haizhou from having to go to the countryside and suffer. This allowed Haizhou to stay in the city.

After Haiping left for the countryside, 15-year-old Haizhou continued his studies, eventually graduating from high school. He was then assigned to a maintenance workshop at a state-owned steel plant, starting as an apprentice. From earning 18 yuan a month, he worked his way up to 38 yuan a month. Their bond grew even stronger through frequent letters, sharing with each other their experiences in the city and countryside.

Then, in 1977, when Xu Haizhou was 20, the country announced the reinstatement of the national college entrance examination (gaokao)!

As soon as the exhilarating news was announced, Xu Haizhou immediately wrote a letter to his brother in the village to share it.

Haiping wrote back, saying he would study hard and asked Haizhou to send him review materials. He also encouraged Haizhou to take the exam too—surely with their intelligence, at least one of them would get into a college or technical school. If not, they could try again next year.

No matter what, it was a chance they couldn’t miss!

After just three months of review, Xu Haiping successfully got into Hushi University of Science and Technology—a nationally prestigious university!

But there was one thing Haizhou never dared to tell his brother.

Their father had been diagnosed with chronic glomerulonephritis—kidney inflammation—three years earlier. It’s a condition requiring long-term medication and careful maintenance. No overexertion, no staying up late, no alcohol.

Alcohol could be avoided, but how could Xu Yonghe, a metalworker, not overwork himself?

Because of his condition, he couldn’t continue working. The factory, fearing a workplace accident, gave him 30 yuan in compensation and dismissed him.

Xu Yonghe had been the family’s sole breadwinner. Losing his job was a devastating blow—it meant no income and mounting medical bills.

At that time, Xu Haizhou was only 18 and two months from graduating high school. The family barely scraped by on their meager savings until he graduated and was assigned work at the steel plant.

But what could 18 yuan a month do? It had to cover daily expenses, his father’s medication, and money sent to his brother in the countryside. The household finances quickly fell into crisis.

Seeing their worsening situation, in the third month after starting work, Xu Haizhou decided to take on a side hustle—reselling goods (essentially black-market trading).

Hou Caijun, their neighbor from the next courtyard, was also from a poor family. Haizhou had followed him around like a little brother growing up. Hou had already been in the trade for three years and knew the ropes. In just half a month, Haizhou made as much as he did from half a year of factory work.

And this was just “drinking soup” by following Hou’s lead—he hadn’t even started “eating meat” yet. During the day, Haizhou worked at the plant. After hours and on his days off, he would resell goods with Hou.

If he went full-time, he might’ve become one of An City’s first “ten-thousand-yuan households” within a few years!

Thanks to this extra income, they could finally afford their father’s medication. The household was no longer in dire straits, and they could even send an extra ten yuan a month to his brother in the countryside.

This rekindled his hope. Working by day, reselling by night, he publicly claimed he was just doing manual labor at a suburban cement factory with Hou Caijun.

With this busy and fulfilling life, by the end of 1977, Xu Haizhou had no time to study for the college entrance exam.

When the gaokao was reinstated, every possible review material was immediately snatched up. Demand far exceeded supply, and even printing presses couldn’t keep up.

Luckily, Xu Haizhou had kept his textbooks and notes from high school. But he had only one copy, and without hesitation, he sent it all to his brother in the countryside. He had no review materials himself, and no time. And so, the college dream quietly slipped away.

In 1977, the college admission rate was absurdly low—out of every hundred-plus candidates, only five or six would be admitted. The pass rate was even lower than the imperial exams back in the Ming and Qing dynasties.

And there were only 50 days between the announcement and the exam itself. How could anyone prepare and succeed in such a short time?

Without exceptional determination and talent, it was nearly impossible.

Fortunately, Xu Haiping didn’t let anyone down—not only did he get in, he got into a top university. The family was overjoyed, even clearing out a room in anticipation of his “triumphant return” from the countryside.

That same year, Xu Haizhou was focused entirely on his “speculation and profiteering” work.

He wanted to earn big, stabilize the household finances, and maybe try the exam again later.

At the end of 1977, he followed Hou Caijun on a run to transport a large shipment of wheat. But they were accidentally caught by the police—losing both the goods and the money. This crackdown disrupted An City’s entire gray-market trade.

With no other options, they decided to head south, claiming it was for business.

Xu Haizhou never told anyone the truth. He just suddenly told his family he was going south with a friend to do business. He said there were more opportunities in the south, better chances of making money.

His family strongly opposed the idea. What “making big money”? They were just ordinary people. What they wanted was a stable and peaceful life. Why get involved in shady business?

He used to be such a hardworking and studious kid. But after high school, he seemed to become slicker, always trying to cut corners…

No one in the family could understand him. And Xu Haizhou didn’t explain anything. He just acted like he was going to do things his own way. The two brothers had a rare, explosive fight.

Xu Haiping felt his younger brother was throwing away his potential. He was clearly smart, had a chance at a bright future, yet gave it all up for a few petty profits!

If he just went to college, would he really not find a good job or make good money? Why waste his youth on this?

When it was time for Xu Haizhou to leave, Xu Haiping didn’t see him off. Apart from their mother, no one in the family came to the train station.

Xu Haizhou boarded the train alone, leaving his hometown behind for the city of Lian, more than 2,000 kilometers away… and eventually, this is where he settled down and got married.

It’s a long story. He kept it brief, but even the fewest words couldn’t convey all the hardship and pressure he had endured.

Qiao Lu fell silent after hearing it all. Her chest felt as if someone had slit it open with a dull knife—painful and tormenting.

“So… this Spring Festival… are we still going back?”

The room was silent, the silence stretching long and heavy. Finally, he croaked out, “I don’t want to go back.”

“Why?”

Xu Haizhou swallowed the bitterness, pulled her close, and hugged her tightly.

“They don’t like you.”

He was afraid—afraid she would be hurt.

At eighteen, he hadn’t feared speculative trading; at twenty, heading south; at twenty-five, marrying a single mother—he hadn’t been afraid.

Qiao Lu was the treasure he had wanted to hold in his palm for all his twenty-five years.

God only knew how happy, how fulfilled he had been in these two months since marrying her.

But the more happiness he felt, the more anxious he became. Sometimes, waking from midnight dreams, he feared this happiness was just a fleeting illusion.

Though his parents’ and brother’s opinions couldn’t really stop him, he was still uneasy, fearing that even the smallest danger could shatter their hard-won happiness.

He didn’t want the happiness they’d painstakingly formed—like a rainbow-colored bubble—to burst with the slightest poke.

“An ugly daughter-in-law still has to meet the in-laws. You send thirty yuan home every month, which shows you still care for them. Since you treat them as your closest family and we are married, I have to know your family too—whether they like it or not, you have to meet them.”

Besides, Xu Haizhou went home every Spring Festival before. This year, he got married and didn’t return. How would his family see her?

Would they say she’s just flattering them? That he’s an ungrateful son who forgot his mother after getting a wife?

Qiao Lu hated her big brother’s inaction and despised her sister-in-law’s domineering ways. She didn’t want to be known as a daughter-in-law like Niu Qiaoli, nor did she want Xu Haizhou to become like her big brother Qiao Guobin…

“But if you really don’t want me to go, I don’t mind.” Nowadays, traveling far was by train; from the north to the south would take at least three or four days. With little Qiao An, three years old, it would be exhausting. If they could avoid going, that would be best.

Xu Haizhou was silent again. He rubbed his high, prominent nose against her cheek repeatedly, his movements restless.

“Hmm, let’s talk about it after the New Year. It’s too late now; tickets are hard to get.” Even in the ’80s, there was Spring Festival travel rush—crowded, especially the hard seats, even the aisles were full.

Qiao Lu nodded. Seeing his lack of enthusiasm, she changed the subject: “Did you buy the little bed I asked for last time?”

“Yeah, already found it. Going to pick it up tomorrow.”

Suddenly, a long silence fell between them.

“Are we… doing it tonight?” Qiao Lu’s voice muffled under the quilt, sounding a bit dull.

“Doing what?” he asked.

In the darkness, Qiao Lu’s face flushed slightly. Irritated, she pushed him away: “If not, then forget it.”

She had felt a bit sorry for him, wanted to comfort him with “actions,” but this guy was just pretending to be innocent… Qiao Lu grit her teeth and pinched his face.

Xu Haizhou chuckled low and deep, rich and sexy.

Suddenly he grabbed her wrist firmly, kissed her lips, then her nose, then her eyes, and finally pressed a loving kiss on her forehead.

“Let’s skip tonight. I’m a bit tired,” he said.

Tired? Mentally tired, probably.

“Mm.” Qiao Lu found a comfortable position in his arms.

She could rest a bit; lately, she barely had any time to relax…

They fell asleep holding each other, but Qiao Lu couldn’t sleep well because he was holding too tightly.

“Xu Haizhou, loosen up. How can I sleep with you so tight?”

“Sorry.” His arms around her waist relaxed slightly but were still snug.

Ten minutes later—

Qiao Lu whispered very softly, “Haizhou, are you asleep?”

Xu Haizhou shifted, “Not yet. What’s up?”

Qiao Lu shook her head, “Nothing, just asking.”

His laughter suddenly turned meaningful: “Why aren’t you asleep either?”

Qiao Lu hesitated, “A little insomnia. I’ll nap a bit, I’ll fall asleep soon.”

She didn’t tell him it was because her mind was restless.

The man suddenly leaned down, captured her rosy lips, kissed again and again, lingering:

“Is it because we didn’t do it tonight that you can’t sleep well? Hmm?”

Qiao Lu blushed so hard she almost screamed and suddenly punched his chest hard: “Get lost! Go away!”

Unbelievable—such a pure young guy saying something so dirty, it was totally out of character!

So embarrassing, so embarrassing!

Seeing the man next door breathing heavier and heavier, Qiao Lu quickly flipped over to face away.

“Sleep, sleep!”

Sure enough, after saying the dirty words, he fell asleep within minutes.

Xu Haizhou slowly drew close again and wrapped his arms around her waist.

He seemed to be talking to her, or maybe to himself:

“Sleep. They will accept you.”