Chapter 9

Leaving the workshop, Song Nian walked toward the canteen with Liu Pingping. More and more people were streaming onto the road, all heading in the same direction.

It was then that Song Nian noticed something—she glanced at the lunchbox in Liu Pingping’s hands.

Liu Pingping realized too, a beat late: “Comrade Xiao Song, don’t you have a lunchbox?”

Song Nian: …

This was outside the scope of her knowledge.

Liu Pingping let out a helpless little laugh. “You need to bring your own lunchbox to the canteen. Without one, how will they serve you food?”

Song Nian fell silent.

Just then, Zhang Yalan and her niece, who were supposed to be “working overtime,” strolled up behind them, catching the conversation.

Zhang Man gave Song Nian a mocking glance and sneered: “What, is she some bumpkin from the backwoods? Doesn’t even know you need a lunchbox for the canteen? Maybe she should go back and ask her husband to buy her one.”

Then, with deliberate sweetness, she added, “Auntie, don’t you still have that old lunchbox you said you’d take home for Da Huang’s food bowl? Why don’t we lend it to Comrade Xiao Song instead?”

Zhang Yalan chuckled. “And what about Da Huang, then?”

Liu Pingping flushed red with anger. “Forewoman, how can you say things like that?”

“Oh? What, am I wrong for wanting to help her?” Zhang Yalan asked with feigned innocence.

Song Nian tugged lightly on Liu Pingping’s sleeve and smiled at the two women. “Thank you, Forewoman, Comrade Zhang Man, for your kind intentions. But since your family already has use for the lunchbox, you don’t need to trouble yourselves with me.”

Zhang Man burst out laughing. “Da Huang isn’t a person, he’s a dog!”

Song Nian widened her eyes in surprise. “Oh, so your family shares tableware with your dog? I see…”

She trailed off, looking as if she didn’t want to say more.

Zhang Man froze, instinctively wanting to argue, but Song Nian had already pulled Liu Pingping along and walked off. Soon she noticed people passing by were glancing at her and whispering with amused expressions.

She fumed. “Auntie, did you see how arrogant she was?”

“Let it go,” Zhang Yalan said in a low voice. “Why waste your breath? She’s under my hand. You think I won’t have chances to deal with her?”

“You’re right.”

Zhang Man pouted, hugging her aunt’s arm as they followed the crowd forward.

After walking a bit further, Song Nian told Liu Pingping: “You go ahead to the canteen. I’ll find a lunchbox and catch up.”

“Alright. I’ll line up at Window No. 3. With the queue, you might still make it if you hurry,” Liu Pingping said.

Song Nian nodded and turned toward the military liaison office.

On registration day, she had already familiarized herself with the factory’s layout and knew Xu Jin’s office was there. She went straight in that direction.

Avoiding suspicion was one thing, but since everyone else was at the canteen now, borrowing a lunchbox didn’t seem excessive.

She couldn’t very well go hungry. There was still work to do in the afternoon, and working on an empty stomach would take a toll on her body.

When she reached the building, she saw a man in uniform carrying a lunchbox up to the second floor. Glancing at the sign, she followed him up.

The guard who came out was familiar—she recognized him from her wedding day. His surname was Zhao.

Seeing her, Zhao froze before quickly greeting, “Miss Song.”

“Hello, I’m looking for Xu Jin. Is he available?”

“Oh, yes, yes, of course!” Zhao turned, knocked, and called, “Captain, Miss Song is here to see you.”

Song Nian stepped forward, only to notice there was another young man inside—Deputy Factory Director Xiao.

She hesitated.

Xu Jin spotted her and spoke: “If you need something, come in.”

Song Nian wavered, but since she was already there, she had no choice but to enter. “Um… Comrade Military Representative, am I interrupting?”

Xiao Dingguo laughed. “No need to stand on ceremony, sister-in-law. I’m family.”

Song Nian blinked, realizing that the deputy director knew about her marriage to Xu Jin.

Xu Jin asked, “What is it?”

Song Nian looked a little embarrassed. “I didn’t know we had to bring our own lunchboxes here. I wasn’t prepared.”

Xiao Dingguo raised his brows, then chuckled. “So our pampered young lady doesn’t even wet her fingers with spring water.”

Song Nian felt awkward and regretted coming all this way just for a meal.

“This has just been brought back. Eat here,” Xu Jin said, standing and pushing two lunchboxes across the desk.

She hesitated. “What about you?”

Xiao Dingguo grinned. “Don’t worry, sister-in-law. A’Jin and I will go to the smaller canteen. I’ve got my own set of utensils there. We’ll make do.”

Xu Jin slipped on his jacket, poured a glass of water from the thermos, and set it in front of her. “Eat here. When you’re done, leave the boxes there—someone will wash them. Close the door on your way out.”

Song Nian accepted the glass with a soft, “Okay.”

Once the two men left, she didn’t hesitate further. She sat in Xu Jin’s chair and opened the boxes: one full of rice, the other packed with dishes. The portions were generous—so much that she worried she couldn’t finish.

But she had no other choice.

Fortunately, she didn’t have a small appetite. Though it was a bit much, she managed to eat everything.

Of course, she wouldn’t leave the dirty lunchboxes behind. Carrying them out, she went to the washroom at the end of the hall, cleaned them thoroughly, and placed them neatly back where they’d been before leaving.

When Xu Jin and Xiao Dingguo returned from their own meal, she was gone.

Spotting the gleaming clean lunchboxes on the desk, Xu Jin sat down—and at once caught the faint trace of fragrance lingering in the air.

The scent was familiar: the soft warmth that clung to her, the same fragrance that once lingered in her bedroom and on her bedding.

Xiao Dingguo came in after washing his hands, noticed the scene, and chuckled. “Sister-in-law’s already gone back to work?”

Xu Jin gave a quiet hum.

Clicking his tongue, Xiao teased, “You’re already married. Even if you’re not in love, you don’t have to treat her so coldly, do you? She was a pampered young lady once—yet you’ve left her to fend for herself here. Isn’t that a bit harsh?”

Xu Jin shot him a glance. “She wanted to work.”

“So, a fallen capitalist lady striving to reform and embrace socialism, is that it?” Xiao joked.

Xu Jin ignored him.

Xiao clicked his tongue again. “A’Jin, this sister-in-law of mine doesn’t seem the restless type. Since she’s already your wife, why not be a little kinder? Maybe… stop holding on to Anya?”

Xu Jin’s brow furrowed. His face remained unreadable. “Don’t you have work to do?”

“Alright, alright, I’m busy,” Xiao raised his hands in surrender.

But Xu Jin’s next words came anyway: “If you’re that free, use your contacts to make inquiries about the Song family. The political tide’s shifting. There may still be a chance to turn things around.”

Xiao whistled, amused. “A moment ago you looked so aloof, and now you’re already scheming how to save your in-laws? Quite the contradiction.”

Leaning back in his chair, Xu Jin spoke heavily: “I married her out of gratitude. It was a debt the Xu family owed. If I can save her parents, then the debt is paid.”

Xiao probed cautiously. “So once you’ve squared the debt, you plan to… cut her loose?”

But Xu Jin had already lowered his head to his paperwork. “One debt settled for the lives of two people. She won’t be the loser in that.”

Xiao gave a half-laugh, half-sigh. “You were transferred out of a real position to this factory as penance for marrying her, and now you’re already thinking of sending her away? What’s the point?”

Xu Jin didn’t look up. “Debt is debt. The marriage was her plea for shelter, my repayment of a favor. Nothing more. I don’t like owing anyone.”

“So after paying the debt, you just discard her?” Xiao shook his head. “Fine, I’ll keep an ear out. By the way, have you contacted Anya lately? Asked how she’s doing in Beijing?”

“No.”

After a pause, Xu Jin said evenly, “I’m married now. I have to avoid suspicion.”

Xiao snorted but then sighed. “I’ll never understand why your mother dislikes Anya. In the end, it’s just about having children… So what if she once dated A’Ling? They weren’t together long.”

Then he realized what he’d said—mentioning Xu Ling, Xu Jin’s late twin brother.

Knowing how deeply sensitive that was, Xiao quickly apologized: “I said too much. Alright, I’ll stop bothering you.”

Xu Jin answered faintly, “Mm.”

—

Back in the workshop, Song Nian hadn’t been back long when the others returned from lunch in small groups.

Liu Pingping hurried up. “Why didn’t you come? You didn’t skip lunch, did you?”

“I ate,” Song Nian said. “A family member happened to be nearby.”

Only then did Liu Pingping relax. “I knew it. You’d never get through the afternoon without eating. Don’t forget your lunchbox tomorrow. After lunch, we can go for a walk together.”

Song Nian smiled. “Alright.”

The afternoon passed smoothly. For Song Nian, collars and sleeves were no challenge.

When the shift ended, she joined the other women heading to the changing room. Once spacious, it was now crammed with bodies.

Her locker was in the corner. As she opened it and began to change, she sensed eyes turning her way.

Lifting her gaze, she caught several people hurriedly looking away.

Liu Pingping’s locker was next to hers. She immediately stepped forward to shield her, then whispered with a wink: “Zhang Man’s been telling people you’re a pauper pretending to look fancy—nice clothes on the outside, rags on the inside.”

Song Nian: …

She took off her work clothes, revealing a plain vest that reached her stomach—modest, not revealing—then calmly put on her own clothes.

Liu Pingping’s face went scarlet, and she quickly turned away. Her heart, however, was pounding wildly.

So pale… like milk mixed with flour. She’s so beautiful…

After leaving the factory, Song Nian boarded the bus with a few of the others.

It was rush hour, and the bus was packed. She got on later, so she stood toward the back where it was slightly less crowded.

Not used to buses, she felt a bit dizzy, but she could bear it.

Then a startled, disbelieving voice cut through the noise.

“Nian Nian?”

Song Nian looked up. Opposite her stood a woman carrying a woven basket. She froze in surprise.

“…Aunt?”