WRS – Chapter 40

The next morning, Fang Min came over carrying a few letters and an embroidery frame. The letters were for Jin Xiuzhu; a few days ago, when she went to collect her manuscript fees, she saw Jin Xiuzhu’s letters and brought them back together. She had been busy and forgotten about them these past couple of days, but this morning she suddenly remembered and brought them along.

The embroidery frame was her own work, following the techniques Jin Xiuzhu had taught her. But she didn’t know why—when Jin Xiuzhu was around, her embroidery looked acceptable, yet now, stitching alone, it appeared strange and awkward. Since she had nothing else to do that morning, she brought it along while visiting.

Jin Xiuzhu hadn’t gone out that morning; she was sewing clothes for her son with needle and thread. Soon, He Yan would be going to school, so she was reinforcing the thin spots on his pants.

When Jin Xiuzhu saw Fang Min, she didn’t make her feel like a guest, immediately taking the envelopes to open and read them.

Three of them were for manuscript fees, ranging from two yuan to twenty yuan, totaling thirty-one yuan, with some stamps included. The other two were letters from the newspaper: first wishing her a Happy New Year, then inquiring whether she would be interested in future collaboration, suggesting she could respond after the New Year.

Jin Xiuzhu set the two letters aside carefully and stuffed the manuscript fees directly into her pocket.

Bai Jingzhi noticed too, surprised at how high her sister-in-law’s manuscript fees were—she had thought ten or so yuan would already be impressive. She breathed a sigh of relief. Staying at her brother’s house these past two days, she had worried about being a burden. She thought she might find some work at school afterward; she had heard that some classmates helped teachers with translations for extra pay.

However, the translations by her classmates weren’t good, and the teacher stopped letting them do it. She had wanted to try but didn’t dare ask, fearing she might perform poorly.

Jin Xiuzhu didn’t know Bai Jingzhi’s plans. She sewed for her son while instructing Fang Min in embroidery. Nearby, Bai Jingzhi was reading and drawing with her daughter. He Yan was not home; he had gone out to play with two friends and had even brought them home for dinner last night.

Fang Min’s embroidery was said to be two little dogs. She explained that this year was the Year of the Dog, and she wanted to have a dog-like baby.

She and the political commissar had already planned to have children.

However, looking at the two roughly drawn heads, Jin Xiuzhu thought that if Fang Min hadn’t said it, she would never have guessed they resembled dogs in any way. Still, she encouraged her verbally: “You have talent in embroidery; the spirit is already there.”

Fang Min didn’t fully understand, but hearing Jin Xiuzhu’s praise, she couldn’t help glancing at her work again, and because it was her own, she actually thought it looked pretty good.

She even told Jin Xiuzhu, “I hope to have a daughter, someone like Yanyan would be perfect.”

Boys were too boisterous; she was a little afraid.

Hearing this, Jin Xiuzhu also felt a little stirred. She wanted a child too. Previously, she had hoped for a gentle little girl, but now she thought maybe a boy would be better; boys tended to be treated more leniently and suffered less.

Fu Yanyan, overhearing, twisted her head to look at the gentle-faced Fang Min, thinking that she definitely didn’t want to be like her—she seemed nothing special.

After a while, someone knocked at the door. Jin Xiuzhu got up to open it—Qian Yufeng stood there.

Qian Yufeng held two pairs of new shoes, seemingly for two children. Indeed, she said, “I made these for the kids; see if they fit.”

Jin Xiuzhu quickly took them—layered-soled cloth shoes with dense stitching—and called her daughter over to try them on.

Fu Yanyan walked over, slipped on a shoe, but it was slightly big.

Jin Xiuzhu crouched and pressed her toes gently. “Almost perfect. She should fit them later this year. Thank your Aunt Qian.”

Fu Yanyan said, “Thank you, Aunt Qian.”

Qian Yufeng waved off the thanks casually. “No need. I just happened to have some free time these past few days and made a few pairs of shoes. Kids wear out shoes so fast these days.”

She walked in, sat down without bothering with formalities, poured herself a glass of water, and said boldly: “It’s more comfortable here. I’ve been stuck at home the past few days, everyone’s gone back to their hometowns, no one to talk to.”

“Isn’t your mother-in-law home?”

“We just can’t get along.”

Jin Xiuzhu wanted to suggest visiting her own family, but Qian Yufeng continued: “Ever since the trouble with my sister-in-law last time, I rarely go home. People always say I just go to get things, but I’m actually proud. My family isn’t poor; I’m not particularly interested in those few vegetables at home. Since I stopped visiting, I’ve had more money and stamps. This New Year, I bought lots of meat, and it’s still not finished today.”

She sighed, “As women, we have to care for ourselves. I used to worry about my family and got nothing in return. My mother still favors my younger brother, my mother-in-law still dislikes me, and whatever I say seems wrong. Now, I don’t care about anything but myself. If my mother is angry, so be it. If my mother-in-law dislikes me, so be it.”

Previously, she tried to please both her mother and mother-in-law but gained nothing.

Jin Xiuzhu looked at her in surprise but said, “Sister-in-law, you’re a clear-sighted person. I could never be as carefree as you.”

“You’re well-treated because of your husband and child. But take it from me, don’t take men too seriously.”

Jin Xiuzhu sensed a story and asked, “What do you mean?”

Qian Yufeng clicked her tongue. “Believe me, few men are trustworthy. My eldest brother-in-law, lying bedridden, still messed around with other women. How many men can you trust?”

Jin Xiuzhu widened her eyes. “What happened?”

Qian Yufeng pursed her lips, thinking of something unsavory, then said, “My husband didn’t send enough money home, so his wife went to work. Two kids, the older goes to school, the younger stays home. In their production team, there was a widow. I don’t know when it started, but she got pregnant. She demanded money from my eldest sister-in-law, knowing we sent money to the eldest brother-in-law’s family. If we didn’t pay, she wouldn’t leave. Things got messy, and it brought bad luck to their family. With such scandals, their kids won’t get wives in the future.”

Jin Xiuzhu was speechless, unable to understand how someone bedridden could still act that way.

Fang Min didn’t want to listen either, but the words stuck. She had never imagined such outrageous behavior—usually, hearing about quarrels seemed serious enough.

Her hands moved slower unconsciously.

She tilted her head slightly and saw the aunt-and-niece eavesdropping nearby.

Qian Yufeng looked disdainful. “I say, stop sending that money. Why fund someone else’s affair? But my mother-in-law disagrees—she’s afraid it’ll cause trouble for our family too.”

Now she had no respect left for her mother-in-law. Anything wrong at home fell on her. She was criticized for being uneducated, being from the countryside, unlike urban military wives. Yet she herself was from the countryside too, had been a servant in her youth, but no one scorned her then.

Previously, she might have agreed with her mother-in-law, but now, living with Jin Xiuzhu, she realized women had to care for themselves more. She wasn’t as bad as her mother-in-law claimed.

Jin Xiuzhu didn’t fully agree with Grandma Wu’s decision. She thought, given the circumstances, it would have been better to cut ties cleanly to avoid future trouble.

Regarding Grandma Wu, Jin Xiuzhu didn’t know whether it was just her impression, but according to local beliefs, Grandma Wu should be a victim of feudal times. Yet she didn’t resent the past and in her core upheld those feudal principles, even more so than Jin Xiuzhu, a true person from the old era. It was confusing.

After venting, Qian Yufeng noticed it was almost noon and left to go home to cook.

Not long after, Wang Ling came over with two bolts of fabric. Jin Xiuzhu, curious, asked, “Why didn’t you go to work today?”

Wang Ling placed the fabric on the table and said irritably, “The provincial office is unhappy with our management, sent someone down to replace us. I can’t go back to the city office, and the county office isn’t in charge. I’ve been idle, so I took a few days sick leave at home.”

Jin Xiuzhu worriedly asked, “Is it serious?”

Wang Ling shrugged. “Probably nothing major. When the factory director changed before, it was the same. Once leadership stabilizes, it’ll be fine.”

“Working at the factory has its downsides—relationships matter a lot. This time is a bit bigger. Honestly, a change is fine. Our factory isn’t short of tools, but the fabric isn’t exceptional, and the designs are ugly. Yours are better. Don’t mind me, last year I got promoted to deputy director, but I really couldn’t manage anything. The staff didn’t listen, so I stopped trying.”

She joked, “If I had the power, I’d get someone to find good threads and design patterns. If you have time, help me design—it’d sell well.”

But the older staff liked the old ways and resisted change.

Jin Xiuzhu smiled. “Then I’d ask for a high price.”

Wang Ling laughed, “Sure, ask for whatever you like.”

She didn’t take it seriously; she knew the older staff wouldn’t let her hold power. Her previous rise was luck.

After Wang Ling left, Fang Min continued clumsily with her embroidery. Jin Xiuzhu guided her a few more times. Fang Min laughed: “It’s lively here.”

Jin Xiuzhu smiled. She liked liveliness. At Hou Mansion, she had no friends or children, life was boring; she amused herself by chatting with a few maids.

Thinking back, Jin Xiuzhu felt she could never return to that lonely life.

In the following days, Jin Xiuzhu took Bai Jingzhi out visiting or stayed home painting. Bai Jingzhi and her daughter read quietly nearby, not disturbing her.

The days passed quietly and peacefully, and soon, the new school term was about to begin.

The night before school started, Jin Xiuzhu went to her daughter’s room holding a property deed. Bai Jingzhi and her daughter were already lying in bed. When they saw Jin Xiuzhu coming in, both froze for a moment.

“Sister-in-law,” Bai Jingzhi greeted, propping herself up on one elbow to sit up.

Jin Xiuzhu gently pressed her shoulder. “No need, I just came to have a talk with you.”

Bai Jingzhi stayed still, and the girl lying beside her—her daughter—also hadn’t fallen asleep. Both pairs of eyes were wide open, gazing at her.

Jin Xiuzhu’s heart softened. She reached out to stroke Bai Jingzhi’s head. Her short hair, cropped just to the ears, felt soft and fluffy under her palm. It made her look fresh and clean, accentuating her delicate features.

Her sister-in-law had mentioned that it was the younger sister who insisted she cut it short. Bai Jingzhi hadn’t wanted to, but her sister said long hair wasted water and soap when washing it—so she had reluctantly agreed.

Hearing that, Jin Xiuzhu had felt a pang in her heart. What girl doesn’t like to look pretty?

With that thought, she took the property deed and a set of keys from her pocket. “This deed was given to me by your brother,” she said softly. “He asked me to pass it on to you. It’s one of the two houses your mother prepared for you and your brother. There might be other things in the house too—check when you have time. But go alone. It wouldn’t be good if someone saw.”

“These days, houses are still very valuable. You grew up in the city—you’ve seen how some families of a dozen people squeeze into a few square meters. Possessing such a thing invites envy. You’re a simple person, so keep this carefully.”

Bai Jingzhi stared in surprise, accepting the property deed from Jin Xiuzhu’s hand. She had never imagined that the mother she’d never even met had left her something so precious.

Jin Xiuzhu continued, “I don’t know how you feel about your foster parents, but there’s something I still want to say: don’t hold grudges, and don’t cling to them either. Resentment or longing means you still hold hope—but from an outsider’s perspective, they don’t deserve it.”

“Your mother left a house for both of you. It shows that the one she gave to your foster parents didn’t matter to her. What mattered most was your safety and growth. Money and property—sometimes it’s fine to give them up. Love money, but don’t be attached to it. That’s called delusion. The same goes for people—clinging to someone unworthy will only cloud your reason and trap you in pain.”

Perhaps Bai Jingzhi couldn’t yet understand all of that, but only someone like Jin Xiuzhu—who had looked death in the face—could truly grasp it: in the end, all wealth and glory are meaningless before death. Even if you gain them, if you don’t deserve them, you’ll lose them—just like Bai Jingzhi’s foster parents, who once had a house and much money, but soon gave it all away.

“What you need to do,” Jin Xiuzhu went on, “is live well—neither arrogant nor cowardly, confident but calm. Learn to face everything with composure, to widen your perspective, to see a broader world, and to devote yourself to greater, more meaningful things. That’s what your mother would have wanted.”

Bai Jingzhi listened quietly, eyes fixed on the deed in her hands.

No one had ever told her such things before. All she’d ever heard was that girls should be virtuous and capable, manage household chores well, and marry a good man. No one had told her to broaden her horizons, to pursue meaningful things. Those were supposed to be things for men. Yet her sister-in-law was saying them—to her. Something within her seemed to crack open.

When Jin Xiuzhu finished, Bai Jingzhi hesitated, then handed back the deed and keys. “Sister-in-law,” she said sincerely, “I’m still in school. I don’t know how to keep something like this safe. Could you hold on to it for me?”

Jin Xiuzhu looked at the obedient girl, thought for a moment, and nodded. “All right. I’ll give it back once you graduate and start working.”

Bai Jingzhi nodded softly. She trusted her sister-in-law. Since she’d entrusted it to her, she surely had no ulterior motive—and even if she did, Bai Jingzhi wouldn’t mind.

Maybe because Jin Xiuzhu had spoken to her so warmly, Bai Jingzhi also felt a sudden urge to talk. After some hesitation, she quietly told her about the situation at school.

Jin Xiuzhu frowned, and so did Fu Yanyan, who was lying inside. She remembered her past life—how she too had been ostracized by classmates. It had been a painful memory.

“I don’t know what to do,” Bai Jingzhi whispered.

“Can’t you talk to the teacher and ask for a dorm change?”

Bai Jingzhi shook her head. “There aren’t many girls in my class. If I move, I’d have to switch departments, and they might not want me.”

Then she looked up at Jin Xiuzhu. “Sister-in-law, what would you do if it were you?”

“Me?”

Jin Xiuzhu thought for a while. “If they ignore me, let them. Why bother with people who don’t study seriously? It’s not like I could learn anything useful from them anyway. But you also can’t let them bully you. You live in that dorm—you need to be able to sleep there.”

“The reason they get along so well is because they share a common target—you. Once they turn on each other, they won’t target you anymore. They might even try to befriend you. So what you need to do is… break their alliance.”

Bai Jingzhi didn’t quite understand, but asked, “How do I break their alliance?”

Jin Xiuzhu smiled faintly. “Simple—temptation. Win over one or two of them with something nice. Once you’re close to them, subtly target the others. Let misunderstandings spread—they’ll think those two are gossiping about them with you, and their relationships will sour.”

Bai Jingzhi frowned. “But I don’t have anything nice to give.”

“Then use your wits,” Jin Xiuzhu said. “Help one of them when she’s in trouble—or when you’re in trouble, ask one for help. Then stick close to her, treat her kindly. She won’t want to be isolated, so she’ll introduce you to her friends. And just like that, they’ll start splitting apart.”

To Jin Xiuzhu, it was a simple matter. She didn’t quite understand why Bai Jingzhi was so troubled by something so small.

Bai Jingzhi bit her lip. “Then… how do I help someone?”

Jin Xiuzhu gave her a longer look. “Rather than helping others, it’s better to make them help you. Make sure it happens when it’s just the two of you. Then you can get close afterward—they’ll accept you more easily.”

“People are selfish,” she added. “They only remember what they’ve done for others, not what others have done for them.”

Bai Jingzhi didn’t fully understand but was too embarrassed to ask again, afraid she’d seem stupid.

Fu Yanyan, however, understood—and looked at Jin Xiuzhu in surprise. She hadn’t expected such a strategy.

Jin Xiuzhu asked Bai Jingzhi if she understood. The girl nodded obediently. After she left, Bai Jingzhi frowned, lost in thought for a long time before murmuring softly, “How can I help someone…”

Fu Yanyan looked at her troubled aunt and explained, “Mom said it depends on your ability. That means—even if they don’t have a problem, you can create one.”

“Huh?”

Bai Jingzhi was stunned. So that was what her sister-in-law meant? After a moment of silence, she asked carefully, “Isn’t that… kind of bad?”

Fu Yanyan comforted her. “No, it’s not. They bullied you first. You’re just protecting yourself.”

“Auntie, Mom told me and Brother that we must be honest and kind, because being honest and kind gives us the strength to live upright in this world. Bad people, no matter how strong they seem, are always haunted by guilt and fear. But being kind doesn’t mean being weak. If someone bullies you, you must fight back—even with tricks—otherwise, they’ll keep doing it.”

Bai Jingzhi didn’t reply for a long time. Finally, she whispered, “Okay. Let’s sleep.”

“Mm.”

Fu Yanyan closed her eyes. She knew her aunt hadn’t fallen asleep yet. She couldn’t either. She couldn’t stop thinking—if only the “Jin Xiuzhu” from my past life had taught me like this…

At four the next morning, Jiang Mingchuan and Jin Xiuzhu were already up. Jin Xiuzhu put the dough she had prepared the night before into the steamer. When Bai Jingzhi was about to leave, she packed all the buns and steamed bread for her, along with red date cakes and sachima she’d made yesterday.

It was the most luggage Bai Jingzhi had ever carried—two full bags of clothes and bedding, plus a small shoulder bag with food and water.

It was the weekend, and Jiang Mingchuan was home, so he could drive her to the city train station. He lifted the two large bags and led the way out.

The two children got up specially to see their aunt off. He Yan’s eyes turned red. “Auntie, remember to write to us once you’re at school!”

Bai Jingzhi smiled and waved. “I will.”

Fu Yanyan waved too. “Goodbye, Auntie.”

“Goodbye, Yanyan.”

Then Bai Jingzhi said, “Goodbye, Sister-in-law.”

Jin Xiuzhu waved back. “Goodbye.”

Once they had gone downstairs, Jin Xiuzhu closed the door. Looking at the quiet living room, she suddenly felt it—how empty it seemed with one less person.

He Yan sighed sadly. “I wish tomorrow were already summer vacation so we could see Auntie again.”

Neither Jin Xiuzhu nor Fu Yanyan were moved. Fu Yanyan bluntly exposed him, “You just want vacation.”

He Yan protested, “I do not!”

Mother and daughter rolled their eyes in perfect sync.

He Yan puffed up. “Dad’s not here, so you two bully me!”

Outside, brother and sister walked one behind the other in the darkness.

Neither was talkative. Usually, Jin Xiuzhu and He Yan filled the house with chatter, making it lively—but now, the silence between them felt thick.

Bai Jingzhi looked at the tall figure walking ahead. She had once envied classmates who had parents to see them off, never knowing what that felt like. But now she did—her sister-in-law waking early to cook her breakfast and pack food for the road, her niece and nephew rubbing sleepy eyes to say goodbye, her brother carrying her heavy bags ahead of her…

She felt enveloped in warmth and love.

Her eyes grew moist. It was a scene she had never even dared to imagine before.

Jiang Mingchuan, walking in front, thought the silence had gone on long enough and spoke: “Don’t sleep too soundly on the train. Don’t eat what strangers give you, and don’t talk to anyone.”

Bai Jingzhi nodded quietly, then remembered he might not see it and murmured, “Okay.”

He saw her off onto the train and reminded her again before leaving: “Don’t talk to strangers, don’t take food from anyone. Call us when you arrive.”

“Okay,” Bai Jingzhi nodded obediently. Then, after a pause, she added, “Brother, be good to Sister-in-law.”

He didn’t think much of it and just replied, “Mm.” But after he got off the train, he frowned slightly, confused—Wait… am I not good to Jin Xiuzhu?

———