Chapter 53

A couple of days after the distribution of the New Year’s pork, it was time for the most important festival before the New Year—Laba Festival.

During the Laba Festival, people drink Laba porridge. The cities had their own ways of celebrating, with state employees receiving holiday benefits from their work units. In the countryside, opera troupes would come to the villages and perform on temporary stages, creating a lively and festive atmosphere before the year’s end.

Hiring an opera troupe didn’t cost much—if the villagers could offer them a good meal, that was good enough.

On the day of Laba, men and women from the village all gathered together, making it a lively and spirited celebration.

For every lively festival, the village had a traditional folk singing program. That winter, after the final round of harvest, the production team was uncharacteristically generous and allocated a jin of soybean oil and a jin of peanuts in the shell as first prize.

In this traditionally conservative mountain village, the folk singing event was a rare moment of openness and inclusivity.

Before the competition even started, some of the urban educated youths couldn’t wait to try. Motivated by the generous prize, they got on stage and sang a few lines. A northern man, with his bold and powerful voice, tried to sing a soft and lingering southern tune, which made the audience double over in laughter.

“Don’t laugh, don’t laugh—I just learned this. But honestly, songs from our great Northwest like Xintianyou sound better! Just wait—I’ll sing one for you!”

“Brother is truly wonderful,

Though poor in wealth, his ambition is high.

Little sister is truly beautiful,

She walks as if gliding over water…”

In Ye Family Village, young married couples and engaged partners would go up and sing a few lines. Uncle Ye, blushing, pulled Du Xiaohe up to sing a duet.

Uncle Ye’s voice was deep and resonant. Though you wouldn’t notice how pleasant it was when he spoke normally, once he opened his mouth to sing, everyone was stunned—his voice was passionate and powerful, earning him rounds of applause.

In her previous life, Ye Qingshui had sat in the audience, enviously listening to others sing mountain songs. She had secretly watched Xie Tingyu for a long while, hoping that he might go up and sing—even if it wasn’t a love song.

But he didn’t.

He was like a tone-deaf wooden statue, completely indifferent to these “vulgar rural customs.”

Ye Qingshui had once accidentally overheard Xie Tingyu singing. His singing voice was beautiful—his breath control was steady, and his vocal range was wide.

Now, standing beside her, Xie Tingyu waved a hand in front of her face and asked,

“Shui’er, what are you zoning out for?”

He tugged gently on her braid and smiled,

“You’re spacing out at a time like this. Aren’t the songs nice?”

Ye Qingshui shook her head. Facing those perceptive eyes of his, she mumbled,

“It’s the same every year, nothing new… I’ll go back and keep an eye on the porridge.”

Xie Tingyu’s dark eyes flickered slightly, deep in thought.

A little while later…

Ye Mama patted her daughter on the shoulder and said,

“Shuiya, look! Look! Little Xie went up there!”

Ye Qingshui had her head lowered. The noise in her ears drowned out her mother’s voice as she aimlessly walked through the bustling crowd as if she hadn’t heard a thing.

But then the lively crowd suddenly burst into a commotion, gasping in surprise.

A moment of silence followed.

A deep, rich male voice slowly spread through the air—romantic and gentle, with an impressive vocal range.

“In the quiet garden late at night,

Only the rustling of the leaves can be heard,

Oh, how beautiful is the night…”

That scorching afternoon on a silent, deserted mountain path, when the wildflowers were in full bloom, Xie Tingyu had picked up a harmonica and, with quiet joy, played this foreign melody.

Hearing this now-familiar tune, Ye Qingshui stopped in her tracks. Shocked, she turned her head sharply toward the stage.

Their eyes finally met. The man smiled without meaning to, revealing a set of clean white teeth as he continued singing:

“What a charming evening,

My beloved sits beside me.

Silently watching me without a word,

I want to speak to you,

But I feel shy.

I wish to tell you,

But don’t know how,

So many words remain in my heart…”

The bright and cheerful tune, combined with his truly pleasant, magnetic voice, was like a warm electric current running through one’s ears—causing a tingling in the scalp and a honey-sweet feeling in the heart.

His singing was clear and melodious, the rhythm graceful, the lyrics enunciated perfectly. It was no longer just a nameless wordless tune—it was a song.

When Xie Tingyu finished, a burst of enthusiastic applause rose from the crowd.

In the village, all the young women—married or not—blushed after hearing it. Some covered their faces, their hearts full of envy for whoever was lucky enough to be his partner.

Educated Youth Xie had such a beautiful singing voice.

The girls blushed, their hearts pounding, not even daring to look him in the eye.

“Ye Qingshui, did you hear that?” Zhou Tingting pushed through the crowd and shook Ye Qingshui’s hand.

Ye Qingshui responded after a long moment with a dazed, “Ah?”—the end of her tone rising slightly in confusion.

Zhou Tingting held her face and said,

“That was a love song from the Soviet Union!”

“I didn’t expect someone as serious and stern as Educated Youth Xie to actually go up and sing a love song!”

“Shuiya, for Educated Youth Xie to sing this kind of song—it’s really rare—”

Ye Qingshui’s brows furrowed tightly.

She was trying hard to quickly recall something…

She cut off Zhou Tingting’s words. “Let me be quiet for a moment.”

Ye Qingshui stepped out of the crowd. The cold wind blew against her face, finally cooling the heat off her cheeks.

She seemed to recall the first time she heard Xie Tingyu sing. It had been decades, and her memory was fuzzy, but she still remembered the spirited light in his eyes as he sang, sunlight falling over him—he had looked so handsome.

Ye Qingshui figured she must’ve looked so awkward and silly back then, staring at him wide-eyed and unblinking.

She clearly remembered the embarrassment and unease she felt when Xie Tingyu caught her watching.

Back then, it seemed like Xie Tingyu had also been singing:

“In the quiet garden late at night,

Only the rustling leaves can be heard…”

If he had truly sung this song back then—what would it have meant?

She couldn’t recall. Frustrated, Ye Qingshui knocked herself lightly on the head.

But the moment she heard Xie Tingyu singing on stage today, that vivid moment had completely overwritten her hazy memory from the previous life. She could no longer remember what song he had sung back then.

Ye Qingshui sighed. Overthinking was pointless.

That didn’t stop Zhou Tingting from being ecstatic. After a while, she leaned over and whispered in Ye Qingshui’s ear:

“You didn’t see it—He Fang’s face turned green just now!”

“Now I get it. She must’ve liked Educated Youth Xie all along—that’s why she always targeted us. Watching him sing to you just now felt so satisfying.”

“Shuiya, were you even listening…?” Zhou Tingting huffed and patted her arm.

Ye Qingshui raised her head and smiled. Her eyes reflected the sunlight, her features soft and relaxed, pure like a mountain spring.

Zhou Tingting shut her mouth. Suddenly, it didn’t matter whether Ye Qingshui had heard or not.

It was clear who was truly devoted now. A few more girls like He Fang didn’t matter.

Zhou Tingting smacked her lips, then pulled out three jin worth of ration coupons from her pocket.

With hands clasped together in mock pleading, she said,

“Can I come eat at your house for the next few meals before New Year?”

Ever since she had eaten the Ye family’s “pig-slaughtering feast,” Zhou Tingting had found everything else tasteless. Even the educated youth cafeteria had become unbearable. Now that food rations had been distributed before year-end and she had some surplus, Zhou Tingting just wanted to treat herself.

Ye Qingshui only took one jin of the coupons.

“Sure, it’s fine. Come anytime.”

Ye family’s Uncle and Du Xiaohe’s wedding banquet was held just before the New Year.

The wedding wasn’t extravagant—only five tables were set, inviting relatives, neighbors, and respected village elders. The food was as abundant as the “foundation meal” during the house construction, with two meat dishes. Everyone who attended left with oily mouths and full stomachs.

Du Xiaohe didn’t have a red wedding dress, but she wore clean and presentable clothes. Uncle Ye wore a green military uniform, looking vibrant and energetic. As they toasted each table, he couldn’t stop grinning. The couple—beautiful girl and handsome man—looked like a perfect match.

No newlyweds could’ve looked better.

The villagers of Ye Family Village couldn’t stop praising them. Compliments flowed like they cost nothing.

Xie Tingyu followed Uncle Ye to help toast every table. After working the whole day, his mission finally complete, he sat down in the empty seat beside Ye Qingshui to eat.

Seeing Uncle Ye and his bride joyfully toasting the elders, Xie Tingyu thought of his own rushed wedding with Ye Qingshui half a year ago, and he couldn’t help feeling a wave of regret.

He remembered that wedding very clearly. Her face had been covered with thick layer of make-up, her smile exaggerated like a clown, and her clothes had looked clumsy and outdated. He hadn’t been interested in marriage at the time either, and had just grabbed any old outfit from the wardrobe.

Now, seeing Uncle Ye’s proud, beaming expression, Xie Tingyu couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. He nudged Ye Qingshui.

“Shui’er, how about we hold another wedding back in the capital sometime?”

Ye Qingshui didn’t reply and just quietly kept eating.

Xie Tingyu had just helped Uncle Ye drink round after round, and now his mouth wouldn’t stop—words spilling out like a melody, one after another, impossible to shut off:

“By then, Shui’er will wear a red wedding dress. I’ll wear a green military uniform. We’ll take a photo together at a studio. Shui’er is so beautiful—different every day. When we’re old, we can pull out that photo and show it to our kids.”

“We have to host a proper wedding banquet, Shui’er. My family would never allow otherwise. I’m the only son left in the Xie family now—the last branch.”

“Whatever kind of wedding you want, we’ll do it. I’ll pull the moon down from the sky if you ask.”

Ye Qingshui couldn’t take it anymore. The fellow villagers sitting at their table were all grinning at them. She slapped a hand over his mouth, wishing she had a needle to sew it shut.

She gave up eating, called over someone to help, and together they dragged him back to the room.

Ye Qingshui wrung out a hot towel and slapped it onto his face, her willow-like brows raised sharply.

“Wipe your own face before sleeping.”

“You reek of alcohol.”

Xie Tingyu acted like a little kid, obediently getting up to wash his face. But not only that—he insisted on changing his clothes too. He wouldn’t go to bed otherwise.

Ye Qingshui felt like an old maidservant in some landlord’s household, rummaging through clothes for him.

After changing, Xie Tingyu lay quietly in bed. His face, flushed from the alcohol, had a hint of charm to it. His eyes, though half-lidded, gleamed with a glossy softness, almost brimming with tenderness.

“Shui’er,” he said, “I still need to wash my feet. Wash… my feet…”

Ye Qingshui ignored him and left the room to tend to the guests.

…

When Xie Tingyu woke up again, it was already the middle of the night.

His head felt heavy, and as he sat up abruptly, a wave of post-drinking dizziness washed over him. Slowly, he turned on the light, feeling a bit hungry.

Ye Qingshui was startled awake by the commotion.

Still sleepy, she said,

“There’s still some porridge in the woodshed. Heat it up before eating.”

She turned over—and immediately locked eyes with the tangled, complicated expression on Xie Tingyu’s face.

“Did you hear what I said? Why aren’t you moving?”

Xie Tingyu’s face flushed then turned pale, looking all kinds of weird. He mumbled,

“I heard…”

Just as Ye Qingshui finished speaking, a strange noise came from the neighboring room.

She suddenly seemed to understand something—her face flushed bright red.

Xie Tingyu raised an eyebrow. Under the dim light, the tipsy flush still lingered at the corners of his eyes, tinged with a seductive pink. His eyes sparkled, as if glistening with deep, affectionate emotion.

“Why are you blushing, Shui’er, hmm…”

“Don’t tell me you want to try it too?”

Author’s note:

Yu-ge: Shall we… continue?

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