WRS – Chapter 66

When they got home, Jiang Mingchuan washed the seafood he had picked up and stir-fried them. He used the chili paste at home to cook the crabs and shrimp, and for the ones he didn’t know how to prepare, he simply steamed them.

He Yan was doing homework, while Jin Xiuzhu found a sheet of paper and began writing a letter, recording everything that had happened over the past few days to send to Fang Min. She knew that Fang Min often needed inspiration for her writing. Most of what she wrote came from books, and she rarely went out to experience things herself, so whenever she heard something interesting, she liked to incorporate it into her stories.

Jin Xiuzhu found these recent experiences quite interesting, so she wrote down every mountain they passed, every kind of seafood they ate, every dialect she heard, and to help Fang Min visualize it better, she even drew many illustrations.

Liuliu had originally been squatting in the courtyard watching ants, but later found the sun too harsh, so she ran to the doorway to watch her mother and big brother write. Her brother’s handwriting was too complicated—she recognized some characters but didn’t understand them—so she wandered to her mother’s side instead, playing curiously with the drawings.

She even brought the drawings to show her sister. Fu Yanyan was helping in the kitchen, holding a basin and rinsing rice. Liuliu said happily, “Sister, look! These are Mommy’s drawings. They’re so fun!”

She had seen her mother’s drawings before—at first she thought they were interesting, but as time went on, she found them boring because they were just patterns or random designs. But these drawings were different—there were people, scenery, simple dialogue, and it was all things they had experienced these past few days. Liuliu loved them.

Fu Yanyan turned her head for a glance and couldn’t help freezing for a moment.

Liuliu already ran off to show their father. “Daddy! Daddy, look! Mommy drew this!”

Jiang Mingchuan took a quick look and praised generously, “It’s really good.”

Liuliu nodded vigorously. “I love it so much! I want Mommy to give it to me!”

Then she ran outside again, and soon the voices of mother and daughter drifted in—Liuliu was asking for the drawings, and Jin Xiuzhu explained that these were for Aunt Fang, but she would draw another one for her tomorrow.

Liuliu thought about it and said she wanted to draw something for Fanfan as well.

When dinner was ready, Jiang Mingchuan and Fu Yanyan came out and saw Liuliu scribbling all over a paper with a pen, muttering about puppies and kittens as she drew.

Jiang Mingchuan called everyone to eat.

During dinner, Fu Yanyan suddenly said, “Mom, haven’t you always wanted to write a book? I think you can draw and publish a book.”

Just like comic books in later generations—many people loved reading them. Even children’s books could be illustrated, helping kids learn.

Jin Xiuzhu didn’t quite understand. “What do you mean?”

Of course she wanted to write and publish. Every time she saw Fang Min publish and win awards, she felt envious. But she didn’t have that talent. Her writing was never accepted by any newspaper—they said her wording was too complicated, that she liked quoting obscure texts nobody knew, making it feel like nonsense.

She couldn’t explain herself properly. Even after revising again and again, it still didn’t feel right.

Fu Yanyan explained, “Mom can draw stories the way you drew for Aunt Fang this afternoon. Then send them to a publisher or newspaper to see if they want to publish them. Your drawings are lively and you include explanations. If there were more dialogue between characters, it’d be even more fun. You don’t have to write for adults—you can create for kids like little sister, teaching them basic knowledge, just like when you teach her the Three Character Classic.”

This time Jin Xiuzhu understood. Her daughter was suggesting she make books through drawings.

But she still felt hesitant. Compared to Fang Min’s writing, this felt low-brow.

Then Fu Yanyan lowered her head and said quietly, “Mom’s drawings always move people with small, ordinary details we usually overlook. Those things are full of novelty for children.”

Jin Xiuzhu hadn’t thought much of it before, but when she heard this, her heart stirred.

Because she wasn’t originally from this area, she often looked at everything around her with curiosity and enthusiasm.

Her daughter’s words suddenly sparked inspiration—if she really drew a book, she now knew what she would draw.

He Yan, hearing all this, also joined in, “Mom, draw it! Your drawings are really pretty. If you publish a book, I’ll show it to my classmates and tell them my mom is a writer and artist!”

Jin Xiuzhu felt warmth rise in her chest, but still said, “Let me think about it.”

After dinner, the kids rested at home while she accompanied Jiang Mingchuan to the army base.

He had been sleeping at the barracks for the past few days. Jin Xiuzhu asked if he lacked anything, and though he hesitated and claimed he needed nothing, she could tell something was off and insisted on visiting.

The base was in the mountains, and the road was rough—they had to get off and push the bike in places. After more than an hour, they finally arrived.

From the outside, it looked simple enough, but once they entered the gate, the inside was quite large. Unlike the flat, organized layout of his previous base, this one was built into the mountains, with many buildings halfway up the slope.

His dormitory was also halfway up—a single-story house with green bricks and black tiles, surrounded by trees, barely visible from afar.

They pushed the bike up the path. Jiang Mingchuan parked it at the door, took out his keys, and was just opening the door when a middle-aged woman carrying a bucket of laundry passed by and greeted him, “Captain Jiang, you’re back!”

Jiang Mingchuan turned with a smile. “Yes, I brought my wife to have a look around.”

Jin Xiuzhu smiled politely. “Hello, sister-in-law.”

The woman quickly waved her hand. “Don’t call me that. My husband works under Captain Jiang.”

Jin Xiuzhu smiled and said, “A husband is a husband—between us women we don’t fuss about that.”

The woman laughed. “You two go ahead, I’ll head home.”

“Be careful, the road isn’t easy,” Jin Xiuzhu said gently.

“Okay!”

The woman lifted the bucket and walked off.

Jiang Mingchuan opened the door, and Jin Xiuzhu followed him in. The room wasn’t big but had everything—a bed, a desk, a bookshelf and wardrobe against the wall.

She walked around once, touched the bedding, and just as she expected—it was damp.

Jiang Mingchuan poured her a cup of water. “This place is smaller than my previous unit. There aren’t many family dorms—it’s all old housing. There’s no school either, otherwise I would’ve brought you and the kids here.”

When the kids were home, he felt it was noisy. Now without them, it felt too quiet. Especially these days, sleeping alone—he couldn’t get used to it and often had insomnia.

But he was a man in his thirties—he couldn’t say that aloud. If others knew he couldn’t sleep without his wife and kids, they’d laugh at him.

Jin Xiuzhu sat at the desk with the cup. A book lay open with the page folded at chapter six.

Jiang Mingchuan grabbed some sesame candy from the bookshelf. “A soldier gave this to me a couple days ago—his wife mailed it to him, and he shared some with me. I meant to bring it home for you but forgot yesterday.”

Jin Xiuzhu picked one up and tasted it.

Jiang Mingchuan walked to the window, closed it, and pulled the curtain shut.

The room suddenly darkened. Jin Xiuzhu found it strange. “What are you doing?”

The sesame candy was fragrant—sweet, with a strong sesame aroma and a faint hint of osmanthus.

Jiang Mingchuan lifted her from the chair and carried her toward the bed. She reacted a moment too late, then her face flushed.

So that was why he insisted she come. Even though she had been the one to suggest it, he clearly misled her—she thought he lacked something he couldn’t verbalize.

He laid her on the bed and climbed up as well.

She tried to stop him, whispering, “It’s broad daylight… Aren’t you afraid someone will notice?”

His hands were already roaming. “It’s fine. No one’s next door.”

He buried his face into her neck and inhaled deeply, then murmured, voice low and husky, “You only have the kids in your heart now. We haven’t done anything in so long.”

Her embarrassment softened instantly.

With Liuliu being so young and always sleeping with them, it was indeed inconvenient.

Still, she tugged on his ear. “Stop pretending… I know you—”

Before she could finish, he cut her off with a kiss.

Soon, faint sounds filled the room.

It wasn’t until dusk that Jiang Mingchuan quietly opened the door. Seeing no one outside, he returned to pick up Jin Xiuzhu—wrapping her in his jacket.

The moment he touched her, she smacked him with her arm.

He looked embarrassed. “Let’s go home first. If we don’t, the kids will start worrying.”

She glared. “Oh, now you remember you have three kids?”

He kissed her forehead, then carried her to the back seat, closed the door, and pushed the bike down the narrow path.

Their luck wasn’t great—they ran into several people along the way. Worried someone might notice something, Jin Xiuzhu used the jacket to cover her face and neck.

Fortunately, once they left the base gate, everything was fine. Jiang Mingchuan pedaled quickly, and they arrived home a little after seven.

The three children had just finished eating. He Yan had already gone back to school to study. Fu Yanyan was helping her younger sister with homework. School was starting tomorrow, and only now did the little girl finally admit the teacher had assigned homework.

Yesterday when she was asked, she insisted there was none. Fu Yanyan felt both angry and helpless. She had no choice but to make her sister obediently do her homework. Halfway through, Liuliu couldn’t help asking, “Sister, why aren’t Mom and Dad back yet?”

Fu Yanyan silently rolled her eyes. Who knew what those two were up to again?

But she still replied, “Maybe they got delayed by something.”

“…Okay.”

Just as she finished speaking, knocking sounded from outside the courtyard, followed by Jin Xiuzhu’s voice: “Yanyan, Liuliu, Mom’s back! Come open the door—”

Liuliu’s eyes lit up. She threw down her pen and ran to the door “deng deng deng,” but she didn’t open it immediately. Instead, very cleverly, she asked, “What’s my mama’s name?”

Outside, Jin Xiuzhu burst out laughing. “Her name is Jin Xiuzhu. Your papa’s name is Jiang Mingchuan.”

Liuliu shouted happily, “Correct!”

Then she stood on tiptoe and tried to pull the wooden latch to the right, but she was too small and weak. After tugging for a long time without success, she turned around and called, “Sister, come help.”

Fu Yanyan walked over slowly.

When the door opened, they saw Jin Xiuzhu standing there and Jiang Mingchuan behind her pushing a cart.

Liuliu was thrilled, running circles around Jin Xiuzhu. “Mom—!”

Then she ran to Jiang Mingchuan. “Dad—!”

After circling them once, she noticed Mom had Dad’s coat draped over her head. Tilting her head curiously, she leaned in and asked, “Mom, are you very cold?”

Jin Xiuzhu’s face flushed. “No… there were too many mosquitoes outside. I used it to block them.”

Liuliu: “Ohhh.”

Jiang Mingchuan cleared his throat. “Have you eaten? If you haven’t, Dad will cook something for you.”

Fu Yanyan replied, “We already ate. There’s food left for you in the kitchen.”

Jin Xiuzhu had long been hungry. Hearing this, she couldn’t help praising, “My daughter is the best. She even left food for me.”

Fu Yanyan said expressionlessly, “Big brother made it.”

Jin Xiuzhu quickly corrected herself, “My son and daughter are both great.”

Fu Yanyan went to get the food. As she turned, she couldn’t hold back and curled her lip.

As if she hadn’t noticed—Jin Xiuzhu’s mouth was swollen, and there were several red marks on her neck.

She wasn’t as clueless as little Liuliu. Back in her previous life at the private school she attended, many students dated, and some even got into serious trouble. She hadn’t experienced it herself, but she’d seen enough to understand a thing or two.

These two adults really weren’t serious at all. She thought they’d gone out for something important.

Jiang Mingchuan had a meeting early the next morning, so after dinner he left.

At night Liuliu insisted on sleeping with Mom and her sister. With no other choice, Jin Xiuzhu took both daughters to sleep together.

Yanyan slept peacefully, but Liuliu was different—she moved all night. Jiang Mingchuan’s stomach had been kicked red before.

Fortunately, last night Liuliu was relatively well-behaved and only kicked Jin Xiuzhu’s calf twice. Still, when morning came, Jin Xiuzhu’s leg was red.

In the morning, Jin Xiuzhu was too tired to get up. She handed money to He Yan, telling him to buy breakfast at the school gate.

In the past few days, several breakfast stalls had appeared at the school entrance. At first, only the after-school vendors were there, selling cotton candy or fried skewers. Later, seeing nothing happened to them, more and more stalls appeared, and now there were breakfast vendors too—steamed buns, mantou, rice balls, noodles.

He Yan normally ate at home before going to school. Even if he saw the stalls, he never felt tempted.

He hadn’t expected that one day he’d also be buying breakfast outside.

Usually the ones buying breakfast were students who lived far away.

He Yan bought a rice ball, two eggs, and two mantou. He had a big appetite, so everything he chose was filling. As for the eggs—his mother always said studying was tiring, so eggs and meat were necessary.

He ate the rice ball as he walked to school. When he reached the classroom, he saw the girl sitting in front of him was already there, head bowed over a book as usual.

He was used to it. He knew her name—Lin Zhaodi. She always arrived early. Since he lived right across from the school, even waking at six and arriving early, he was still earlier than most students—some had to wake at four or five.

But no matter how early he came, Lin Zhaodi was always the first in the classroom.

Her family didn’t seem well-off. By the time he arrived in mid-September, when he went to pay tuition, she was also paying—only half of it. She told the teacher she’d bring the rest later.

The teacher didn’t say much, only told her to study hard.

The two had been seated one behind the other for a while. He Yan had a lively personality. Although he wasn’t fully fluent yet, he was already close with the classmates around him, who all liked him. Only Lin Zhaodi never responded. Unless it was about schoolwork, she wouldn’t talk to him.

He had thought someone who studied so diligently must have excellent grades, but to his surprise, hers weren’t that good. In Saturday’s exam, she ranked right in the middle.

His deskmate had even teased him, asking if he liked her. He said although her grades were average and her personality not very friendly, she was beautiful—just a bit dark-skinned.

His deskmate was a tall, skinny boy. His parents worked in a factory, so they weren’t very concerned about academic performance. Even if he couldn’t get into college, he could take their place at the factory.

He Yan was very upset by his teasing. He only saw in Lin Zhaodi a shadow of Big Sister Daya. Daya used to be too timid to talk to anyone, always lowering her head while she worked. She didn’t even have a proper name—just Wu Daya, and her younger brother was Wu Xiaojun.

Hearing the name Lin Zhaodi, one could tell immediately her family probably favored boys over girls.

Maybe because his deskmate’s words made him uncomfortable, He Yan stopped talking to her altogether afterward, afraid of creating misunderstandings.

He sat down and opened his Chinese textbook, eating an egg while reading.

Halfway through, he suddenly heard a stomach growling sound. At first he thought he misheard, but then a louder growl came.

He looked up and saw the girl in front of him, ears bright red, pressing her stomach with her hand.

He Yan didn’t find it funny. Looking at her embarrassed back, he hesitated for a moment, then suddenly stood up and placed his two mantou on her desk.

She turned around instinctively, her large dark eyes filled with shame and inferiority.

He told her seriously, “You can’t study if you’re hungry. I’m already full. Eat them—no one will know.”

Then he picked up his book and walked out to the hallway.

Lin Zhaodi watched his tall figure disappear at the doorway. The heat on her face slowly faded. She looked at the mantou on her desk and swallowed hard.

Normally she would never accept food from others—she was too poor and couldn’t repay anything. Just being able to attend school here was the biggest opportunity she had fought for. No one in class knew she got up at 3 a.m. every day to cross several mountains just to reach the school.

She didn’t know whether it was his words—“You can’t study on an empty stomach”—or his kindness that moved her. After hesitating, she picked up the mantou. Even though she knew the classroom was empty, she still looked around nervously.

Seeing no one, not even He Yan outside, she finally relaxed and unwrapped the paper to eat.

The mantou was delicious and soft, with a faint sweetness as she chewed. It was her first time eating mantou, and she thought it was more delicious than the slice of meat she ate during New Year.

She wanted to eat slowly and savor it, but she was afraid an early-arriving classmate might see her.

As she ate, her eyes turned red.

She told herself that she must repay He Yan one day.

That morning, for the first time, Lin Zhaodi did not drift off during class. She realized that having a full stomach truly made learning easier.

Unlike usual—listening while worrying her stomach would growl, and when she was extremely hungry, the teacher’s words would blur into a buzzing in her ears.

Later, she discovered that every morning when He Yan arrived, he would put two mantou on her desk, say nothing, then walk out with his book.

They exchanged no words, yet had perfect understanding.

No one at home noticed what He Yan was doing. Recently, following her daughter’s advice, Jin Xiuzhu had been drawing every day.

The protagonist was a girl named Dou Dou, seven years old, with two little pigtails and a round face—modeled after Liuliu. Jin Xiuzhu secretly wanted to include her daughter in the book.

Dou Dou was born in a rural village and lived with her grandmother. There were mountains, rivers, fields, and cows. The scenery of the countryside was drawn in vivid detail. After her grandmother passed away and her relatives refused to take her in, Dou Dou carried the money her grandmother secretly left her and set out to find her soldier father.

A kind grandfather driving an ox cart took her to the county. Then she met a kind older sister who sent her to the bus station…

A rural child who had never seen the outside world—everything was new and strange to her: cars, trains, department stores…

She met good people, but also bad ones, escaped from danger, and cleverly sought help from the police.

Jin Xiuzhu drew slowly, wanting to present the real world as much as possible, hoping rural children would understand the outside world through her book.

Of course, she had no idea how influential this book would become later. She only hoped it might be published in a newspaper.

But she had no confidence. She’d never seen a book like this on the market. Even after drawing over a dozen pages, she still didn’t dare send it to a newspaper, afraid it would ruin her reputation. She didn’t even send it to the newspaper she currently worked with. Instead, after thinking it over, she decided to write to Bai Jingzhi, asking her to help get it published.

After sending that letter, she received one from Fang Min.

In the letter, Fang Min wrote that since they left, Fanfan had no appetite. When a new family moved in next door, Fanfan even stood in the doorway blocking them, claiming, “This is Liuliu and Auntie’s house.” They couldn’t pull him away, and in desperation, Fang Min smacked his bottom twice. She immediately regretted it—he was just stubborn. Whether that was good or bad, she didn’t know.

Reading it, Jin Xiuzhu felt a sour ache in her heart and said to her eldest daughter with a smile, “We didn’t spoil that boy for nothing.”

Fu Yanyan glanced at Liuliu, who was happily rummaging through gifts. That kid was carefree—she hadn’t missed Fanfan at all after arriving here.

Jin Xiuzhu continued reading. Fang Min wrote that after they left, Wei Ningqing’s parents returned home and even brought him to express gratitude for taking care of him before.

Wei Ningqing used to come with He Yan to eat at Fang Min’s home several times.

Then there was Yang Yingxiong. A few days after they left, his family came to pack things. Fang Min saw his grandmother—she wasn’t as spirited as before but still seemed healthy.

Before leaving, Yang Yingxiong brought his younger brother to thank Fang Min and Zhang Qiulai, saying he would visit her when he grew up.

Fang Min felt warm inside. But their family wouldn’t be staying much longer either—the political officer said that next year or the year after, they would also have to relocate. But it didn’t matter—they’d keep writing letters.

Jin Xiuzhu smiled while reading and immediately picked up a pen to reply, telling her it didn’t matter how far they moved—the relationship between their families wouldn’t fade. After all, the political officer’s nephew would be coming to their home for New Year. She even teased her to guess the reason.

Then she wrote about her recent life and the various things happening at home. In the end, she told her to tell Fanfan that Auntie missed him very much.

Jin Xiuzhu: Men are all no good.

Jiang Mingchuan: Wife, I was wrong.

He Yan: What? Did you guys fight?

Fu Yanyan: Tsk tsk, still too young.

Liuliu: Brother, I want mantou too!

He Yan: cough cough … No money left.

Liuliu: You’re biased! You always have no money when it’s for me!