Chapter 2

The Ye family had a simple household. Ye Qingshui’s grandparents, Grandpa Ye and Grandma Ye, had two sons—both joined the military. The eldest son died honorably in service, while the younger one was still in the army. Grandpa Ye had passed away a few years ago, leaving only three women in the house. Although they were just a family of widows and orphans, they belonged to a military household, which earned them a certain level of respect in the brigade.

Ye Qingshui finished chopping the garlic and generously added a few drops of lard to stir-fry a dish of sweet potato leaves. The vibrant green leaves glistened under the oil. She had just finished setting the table when her grandmother and mother arrived at the kitchen one after another.

At the same time, her mother said eagerly, “Shui’er, set an extra bowl.”

“Xiao Xie’s friend is staying for dinner tonight.”

Luckily, this Ye Qingshui had traveled back from forty years in the future. She had long abandoned the habit of cooking only just enough based on the number of people at the table. Otherwise, this situation might have been quite awkward. That said, in these rural times, it was rather impolite for a guest to stay for dinner without informing the host in advance.

Before she could figure out which of Xie Tingyu’s friends had come, a voice reached her ears before the man himself did.

“Yu Ge, hope I’m not intruding?” The man’s voice was loud, carrying both warmth and a hint of playfulness.

“Mm.” Xie Tingyu gave a brief response.

Ye Qingshui looked up and met the man’s scrutinizing gaze.

It was… Shen Weimin.

He was a close friend of Xie Tingyu’s and, like him, came from the capital. In Ye Qingshui’s memory, most of the educated youth from the capital had their noses in the air and didn’t think much of country folk.

She wondered if tonight’s meal would be good enough for this well-off “young master.” She quietly grumbled in her heart.

She personally handed Shen Weimin a bowl of rice, making sure there was more rice than sweet potatoes to show sincerity.

After Xie Tingyu sat down, he twisted open a bottle of liquor. Ye Qingshui glanced at it and immediately recognized the brand—Zhu Ye Qing, a specialty from Shanxi. It was smooth with a lasting aftertaste, crafted by people who were just as skilled at brewing vinegar as they were at making liquor. A single bottle cost three yuan and fifty cents. In the Hongqi Commune, one work point was worth about thirteen cents, and the strongest laborers in the brigade could earn eight work points a day.

In her past life, she had been ignorant of such things. But now, with the knowledge from her rebirth, she suddenly realized—Xie Tingyu was quite the spendthrift.

The light green bottle sat in Xie Tingyu’s hand as he poured the crystal-clear liquor into a rough ceramic bowl. His quiet, composed demeanor made even the usually boisterous Shen Weimin fall silent for a moment.

Then, Shen Weimin lifted his head and stared coldly at Ye Qingshui for a full three seconds.

As if trying to get a good look at this scheming woman who had tricked Xie Tingyu into marriage.

His whole posture screamed “I’m here to stand up for my brother.”

Shen Weimin had plenty to say. He picked up a piece of braised pork and placed it in his bowl before speaking.

“Can I call you Comrade Ye?”

Without waiting for her response, he continued lazily, “Don’t be fooled by how Yu Ge eats everything now without complaint. When he was a kid, he was a nightmare at the dinner table. He hated fatty meat, only ate lean meat—but not too lean, mind you. Plum blossom pork was his favorite. His mother was practically at her wits’ end with him. She would have thrown him out if she could.”

“He wouldn’t eat rice, didn’t like noodles either. The imported milk powder our uncle bought for him? He never even glanced at it.”

Shen Weimin then gave her a long, pointed look and drawled, “From now on… I guess it’ll be your problem to deal with.”

The Ye family’s living conditions were nothing to boast about—a rundown house, a dimly lit kitchen, walls darkened by years of smoke and soot, and not even an oil lamp lit for dinner.

On the day of the wedding, Shen Weimin had come by and felt as if he was walking into a black hole. He had no idea how Xie Tingyu planned to explain all this to his parents back in the capital.

Blame it on these scheming rural women, each one more shameless than the last, bold enough to make even men tremble.

Shen Weimin was convinced—this woman must have been desperate enough to marry up that she clung onto his Yu Ge like a leech.

These intellectuals had a way of insulting people without using a single curse word. Hearing this, Ye Qingshui couldn’t help but curse inwardly. If it weren’t for the fact that this was family dinner time, she could have taught Shen Weimin a lesson on how to be a decent person.

Fortunately, Grandma Ye and Mother Ye were carefree. They were too focused on slurping down the braised pork, not even bothering to lift their heads to look at him.

The meat was fragrant, so delicious!

The two women were so absorbed in eating that they could no longer hear anything else.

Taking advantage of Xie Tingyu’s dislike for fatty meat, Ye Qingshui kept picking pieces of meat for her grandmother and mother. She only stopped when there were just a few lonely pieces left in the bowl.

She remained warm and affectionate as she said, “Plum blossom pork ¹ Plum Blossom Pork (梅花肉, méihuā ròu) refers to a specific cut of pork that comes from the upper shoulder or neck area of the pig. It is known for its beautiful marbling, which resembles the delicate pattern of a plum blossom flower—hence the name. ? A single pig doesn’t yield more than ten pounds of it. But really, it’s just lean and not greasy—nothing particularly rare. Why don’t you try this bowl of Dongpo pork ² braised pork belly instead?”

“You haven’t even tasted the fatty meat, and you already look down on it? Aren’t you intellectuals always about seeking truth from facts? Why don’t you try a piece first? Since Yu Ge doesn’t like it, I’ll just give more to Grandma and my mother.”

Saying this, she enthusiastically placed a piece of meat into Shen Weimin’s bowl.

The usually silent Xie Tingyu, noticing that the meat on the table was almost gone, quietly took back the drink he had poured for Shen Weimin and finally spoke:

“Eat properly. Can’t this bowl of meat shut you up?”

Shen Weimin realized that Xie Tingyu was annoyed. He had come all this way to stand up for his friend, and now even his drink was being taken back. As for the meat Ye Qingshui had personally cooked, he didn’t even want to eat an extra bite out of sheer stubbornness.

But soon, Shen Weimin found himself at a loss for words…

The meat, with its rich, glossy glaze, touched his tongue. The fatty part was silky smooth, rubbing against his mouth, releasing an aromatic oil. The flavor was sweet and mellow, gradually taking over his senses.

It was as if his taste buds had exploded. His saliva quickly enveloped the piece of meat. As he bit down, the fat melted gently, while the lean meat remained tender yet firm, breaking apart cleanly under his teeth—each bite bursting with a rich, delicious sweetness.

Ye Qingshui keenly observed Shen Weimin’s changing expression. She smiled sweetly on the outside, but inside… hmm.

With a regretful look, she picked up a piece for herself, popped it into her mouth, and sighed dramatically:

“We should leave the last few pieces for Yu Ge.”

“It looks like you don’t really like my Dongpo pork after all.”

Shen Weimin actually did like it. But for the sake of his pride, he couldn’t admit it, and so he remained silent.

Xie Tingyu’s lips pressed into a faint, unreadable line. His gaze flickered for a moment before he finally smiled. He picked up a piece to taste—it was indeed delicious.

Shen Weimin furrowed his brows, watching as Xie Tingyu ate piece after piece, finishing off the dish.

After dinner, Mother Ye, ever diligent, took on the task of cleaning up, shooing Ye Qingshui outside.

“You young people should chat more. Comrade Shen graduated from middle school—he’s full of knowledge! Shui’er, you should learn from him, see how educated people talk and handle things.”

Mother Ye was a simple, honest woman—straightforward and a bit naïve. She had immense respect for educated youths and valued literacy highly. She wouldn’t even throw away any scrap of paper with writing on it, always storing them carefully. Because of this strong belief, she deeply regretted that Ye Qingshui had only completed elementary school. It was a sore spot in her heart.

Hearing this, Ye Qingshui pursed her lips to keep from laughing. She completely believed that her mother meant no harm, but Shen Weimin’s expression turned slightly odd.

By the time he left, Shen Weimin no longer bothered to hide his dislike for Ye Qingshui. He despised cunning women like her.

What a terrible woman!

Backwards in thinking, foolish, and uneducated.

Just imagining her turning into one of those loud, unruly rural women, cursing crudely and demanding money from Yu Ge in the future made Shen Weimin shake his head in disgust.

Before leaving, he looked at Ye Qingshui and said:

“The only reason you married Yu Ge is because he’s too soft-hearted. Don’t get cocky. One day, you’ll have to repay all of this.”

Ye Qingshui stood frozen at the door, watching Shen Weimin’s figure disappear into the distance.

He was right.

Many years later, didn’t she end up repaying everything in full?

Did she regret it?

A little.

…

But thinking too much about it was meaningless.

Ye Qingshui fetched some well water and used a willow twig dipped in salt to brush her teeth. Many farmers in the remote mountains had never seen modern goods in their lifetime, and only in recent years had industrial products gradually made their way in. Ye Qingshui had once been looked down upon by Xie Tingyu, which prompted her to learn how to use a toothbrush and toothpaste, how to wear clean clothes, how to apply Pechoin cream on her face, and how to gain cultural knowledge—she had learned so much.

She walked into her room and struck a match, lighting the oil lamp with a crisp whoosh. The wick was too short, so she adjusted it slightly.

The simple room brightened up a bit, though calling it “simple” might be too harsh. Her uncle sent home thirty yuan every month, allowing the Ye family to afford a tiled house. The best room had long been given to her by her uncle, and now, it was spacious enough to store Xie Tingyu’s belongings.

As she wiped her hair with a towel, her gaze swept over the room that she had seen countless times in her dreams. Her eyes lingered on the clock hanging on the wall, the dusty flute, and the cabinet that was always filled with his manuscripts.

She reached out and lightly touched the cabinet, and as if summoned by her touch, Xie Tingyu’s voice echoed in her ears.

He said, “Comrade Ye, do you have a moment? Let’s talk.”

Ye Qingshui nodded. Xie Tingyu closed the door, peered out the window, and then shut it tightly. His thin frame stood with his back to her, his shoulder blades slightly protruding. Against the last glow of the setting sun, he looked like a butterfly spreading its wings.

It was really because his freshly laundered Dacron shirt was too clean—so dazzlingly white.

Sitting up straight, Xie Tingyu finally spoke. “I want to ask, what are your thoughts on our marriage?”

He continued, “I saved you, but not because I wanted you to marry me. You know that, don’t you?”

“I agreed to marry you, but not because I was afraid of rumors or being accused of being a hooligan.”

His thick eyebrows lifted slightly as he spoke with careful persuasion. “So, I saved you and helped you, but please, don’t do things that trouble me, okay?”

“I don’t have those kinds of feelings for you. In my heart, you’re just a little girl who hasn’t grown up yet—about the same age as my younger sister. Can we just get along as friends?”

Seeing that she remained silent, he didn’t push further. Instead, he reached into a drawer, took out a harmonica, and handed it to her, his tone softening as he changed the subject.

“Next time, don’t jump into the river out of spite. A life is far more valuable than this lifeless object.”

The Soviet-made harmonica had a steel casing and golden reeds that shimmered in the light, contrasting against the warmth of his large palm.

Ye Qingshui took the harmonica from his hand, feeling its weight. This hadn’t happened in her past life. She was momentarily dazed and unconsciously asked, “Why are you giving this to me?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them.

Because in this lifetime, Xie Tingyu would never be able to answer that question.

All the schemes and manipulations of the past had begun because of this very harmonica.

Xie Tingyu had a beloved harmonica, which he used to play beautiful melodies. The educated youths, exhausted from labor, had little entertainment, and many times, they relied on his music for comfort. But that very harmonica had once been tainted by her lips, and in disgust, Xie Tingyu had tossed it aside without a second thought.

Something she had longed for was nothing more than trash in his eyes. In anger, she had jumped into the river to retrieve it.

Holding the harmonica against her chest, Ye Qingshui had wondered: if she were to drown because of this, would Xie Tingyu regret it and come to save her?

In the end, he really did come to save her.

In truth, she was good at swimming, but in that one fleeting moment of dark intention, she had spent the better half of her life shrinking away in guilt before Xie Tingyu.

Hearing her question, Xie Tingyu hesitated for a moment, clearly not expecting her to ask something so simple.

He chuckled self-deprecatingly. “Don’t overthink it. Isn’t this what you wanted? Maybe I should’ve just given it to you sooner.”

At that moment, Xie Tingyu was like a warm piece of jade, gentle and comforting. A person one might easily fall for.

But Ye Qingshui had already seen his cold and ruthless side. She no longer entertained such thoughts.

As her fingers traced the harmonica’s cool metal casing, her gaze became resolute. She firmly said, “Don’t worry. I won’t make things difficult for you anymore.”

For the first time, she bowed deeply and sincerely apologized to Xie Tingyu.

“I’m sorry.”

After saying it, Ye Qingshui felt a great weight lift from her shoulders.

“If you ever want a divorce, just let me know. I won’t hold you back. If you ever feel wronged, when I have the means, I will do my best to compensate for your losses.”

Xie Tingyu quickly concealed the surprise in his eyes. Something he had wanted for so long had come too suddenly, making it hard to believe.

The girl in front of him no longer seemed timid or fearful but instead had become bright and open. Her clear eyes held a faint smile, and her deep bow caught him off guard. He couldn’t quite grasp what she was planning.

Still, he showed his white teeth in a warm smile and said, “Alright, I believe you.”

Ye Qingshui let out a breath of relief, feeling utterly satisfied.

She left the room, turning back to say, “Go ahead and read. I’ll be out for a while.”

Cradling the heavy harmonica, she wandered to the deserted hills behind the village and lifted it to her lips, playing a tune. The bright and cheerful notes clashed in a noisy, almost offensive way—an insult to the elegance of a harmonica.

She chuckled and then played a softer, gentler melody.

The so-called contrast between vulgarity and sophistication—one could not have both.

In the past, she had pursued a noble and unattainable “white moonlight,” yet she herself was just an unbearably vulgar person. Some people would never be a good match, no matter how hard one tried. It had taken her half a lifetime to finally understand that.

And so, she let go of this relationship.

The girl’s soft, dark hair fluttered in the wind. Her clear, luminous eyes shone as the ethereal melody drifted with the wild grasses. The creek reflected the rippling golden hues of the setting sun.

Author’s Note:

Little Theater

Tingyu: I must constantly remind myself not to be too kind to this village girl. What if she falls for me?

Years later…

“I have no romantic feelings for you.”

— Smack.

“I see you as a younger sister.”

— Smack.

“Can we just be friends?”

— Smack.

The sound of face slaps echoed endlessly.

And in the end… he had to eat his own words and it smells good.

Sansukini: Well, she didn’t really schemed to marry him. She liked him a lot, the harmonica was thrown into the river and she went to get it back, and he jumped in to save her, not knowing that she knows how to swim.

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