Chapter 24.2

Before becoming the editor of Comic Book, Wang Jingfang had been a comic book enthusiast. It was her passion that drove her to study hard, look for job opportunities, and eventually pass the hiring exam to join the publishing house, where she worked in her current position.

But after being an editor for so long, when she looked at a new comic book, she no longer felt the same joy and focus she had in the past. Instead, her gaze had turned to one of judgment and reflection.

Now, it had become difficult for her to read through an entire comic book without interruption.

Thus, when she finished looking at this manuscript and felt thirsty, she reached for her water cup but realized she hadn’t taken a sip. When she looked up, she saw that half an hour had passed. She paused for a moment, slightly stunned.

She then flipped through the manuscript from the back to the front, and finally, her gaze rested on the title “Chutao Yuan Village” on the opening page.

After a long while, Wang Jingfang stood up, holding the manuscript, and walked toward the editor-in-chief’s office.

…

By May, the temperature had climbed steadily, and the wool blanket no longer sufficed. Su Ting had replaced it with a cotton duvet cover, but it was empty inside. At night, she would only use the duvet to cover her stomach.

But it didn’t help much. When He Dongchuan hugged her, it was even hotter than with the wool blanket.

Su Ting deeply regretted her decision. If she had known that He Dongchuan’s body heat was this intense, she would have reconsidered for another six months and let him return to the Master’s Bedroom in the winter. Now, not only did he drag her into exercise at night, but he also insisted on hugging her while they slept.

It was useless to complain. Even though they each had their half of the bed before going to sleep, by the time they fell asleep, they always ended up tangled together.

Su Ting had been woken up by the heat several nights in a row.

What was even more hopeless was that it was only May. By June and July, and even the dog days of summer, how would she survive?

Whenever this thought crossed her mind, she especially missed the days of having refrigerators and air conditioners in her previous life.

But since she couldn’t buy an air conditioner, she decided to make use of an industrial fan. She tapped her fingers on the industrial ticket she had and brought up the topic to He Dongchuan during dinner time.

He Dongchuan had no objections to this. Although he was resistant to the heat, it was clear that Su Ting was someone who couldn’t tolerate it. With an electric fan, she might feel a bit better.

Of course, he had his own selfish reasons, thinking that once the fan was bought, maybe he could keep holding her while they slept at night.

After making the decision, the couple, along with He Yan, set off for Rong City during the weekend.

Although they were primarily going for the fan, once they got to the city, they didn’t head straight to the department store. Instead, they first went to see a movie and then had a meal.

After dinner, as they passed by the post office, He Dongchuan made a phone call home.

He Yan, being a chatterbox, immediately blurted out about the fan. When it was Su Ting’s turn to take the call, Chen Xiaoman asked a few concerned questions, checking if they had enough tickets. If not, she said she’d ask He Dongchuan’s father to help get some more.

Su Ting had been in this time period for more than a month and had already collected tickets herself. She knew that many tickets back then were issued locally, and tickets from the capital couldn’t be used in Rong City. Asking He Dongchuan’s father to help was likely a way of leveraging connections, which might seem like a simple request, but in reality, it involved using personal relationships.

Su Ting felt it wasn’t necessary to use connections just for a fan, so she declined, saying they had enough industrial tickets on hand.

The industrial tickets, while enough to buy the fan, were only solving her immediate issue since Su Ting was the only one feeling the heat. They could buy one fan with the tickets they had, but when the weather got even hotter, the second bedroom would also need one. With the amount of tickets He Dongchuan received each month, it would likely take several months to save enough. However, He Dongchuan had mentioned that he would borrow some tickets from others during this period and would be able to get a fan for He Yan before the heat really set in.

Although borrowing from others also involved using personal connections, He Dongchuan’s father’s connections were far more valuable, so it was better to let him handle it.

As they passed by the mail counter, Su Ting noticed one counter that was empty. She turned towards it and asked the staff if there was any mail for her.

The staff didn’t go to check but simply asked: “Where do you live?”

“Pingchuan Island.” Su Ting answered.

The staff member responded: “If there’s anything for you, someone will deliver it to your home.”

“Okay, thank you.”

After thanking them, Su Ting returned to the two men and smiled: “Let’s go.”

The stories published in Comic Book Report were usually between two to three pages long, typically containing twenty to forty illustrations. The paper was usually size A4, and a slightly larger envelope would suffice to send it without needing to fold the pages. The envelope itself was no thicker than the walls of an enamel mug.

But this envelope was puffed up, clearly filled with sketches—there were definitely no fewer than seventy or eighty, and possibly even more than a hundred.

In an instant, Wang Jingfang changed her mind. She sat down and opened the envelope.

She took out the manuscript, and the first thing that caught her eye were the four large characters: Chū Táoyuán Cūn (Out of Peach Blossom Village).

Wang Jingfang found this person rather interesting. Typically, people who submitted their work would only send the manuscript along with personal information. But this person had sent the manuscript without any personal details, and instead, there was a cover page like that of a published comic book.

The four characters looked quite special—they had the form of words but also resembled drawings, giving off an artistic vibe.

In the bottom right corner of the cover, there was another line of text: Su Ting/ Yī kē Liúlián (Su Ting / A Durian).

Wang Jingfang understood “Su Ting”—that was probably the author’s name. She also recognized “durian” as a type of southern fruit. But seeing it here, she couldn’t understand why it was included. Could it be the author’s pen name? 

It was strange.

As she pondered this, she flipped the cover page and began to read.

The first thing she noticed was that the art style was very mature, with intricate details. It was clear that the artist had a solid foundation in drawing. As for the text, the writing was fluent, but perhaps due to limited space, the first page didn’t quite expand on the story, and it felt a bit dull.

Wang Jingfang guessed that the original author must have studied fine arts, given the depth of the artwork. However, their storytelling skills seemed average, and their personal style was not particularly distinctive. But it was still readable, so she turned to the second and third pages.

By the time she reached the fourth page, Wang Jingfang had figured out what kind of story it was.

The protagonist, Li Maochang, was a reporter for a geography magazine. During a trip to a remote area, he got lost and wandered into a deep mountain rumored to be inhabited by wild men.

After three days and nights of trekking, running out of water and food, Li Maochang, exhausted, found a relatively clean spot to sit and wait for death.

At the brink of death, he saw a girl. She spoke to him, but before he could hear what she said, he lost consciousness.

He thought the girl was just a hallucination before death. However, when he woke up, he found himself in an unfamiliar bedroom. He couldn’t tell if he had been saved or if he had arrived in the underworld.

Even though they could order milk, there was no harm in buying malt milk powder. After all, they could afford it, and it tasted good. It would also be presentable for guests.

Before they even reached the second floor, the three of them had already bought a bunch of food.

Originally, Su Ting had wanted to buy some fruit, but seeing the big bags He Dongchuan was carrying and the fact that they still needed to buy a fan, she realized she would have to carry the food herself, so she gave up on the idea.

There was nothing to be done; she was weaker and had to face reality.

The electronics were on the third floor. Not only electronics but also expensive items like sewing machines, bicycles, watches, beds, wardrobes, and so on were on that floor.

As they passed the bicycle and sewing machine counters, Su Ting suddenly remembered something. She leaned toward He Dongchuan and whispered: “Do you think I should sell the tickets for the sewing machine and bicycle?”

Su Ting had two large-item tickets in her hand, both of which were part of the betrothal gifts He Dongchuan had given her when they got married.

But after Su Ting moved to the island, He Dongchuan had been busy, and since she hadn’t ventured far herself and was too scared to go to the city alone, the matter had been delayed until Su Ting arrived.

Su Ting didn’t have much attachment to the three major items of that era. She wasn’t working, so there was no use for the bicycle. As for the sewing machine, it was even less necessary. She was good enough at patching up holes in clothes, but making them? Not even a thought. 

Because she had no use for them, she had never acted on the tickets. Today, she had remembered and wanted to get rid of them. But since they were betrothal gifts from He Dongchuan, whether she sold them or used them, she needed to ask for his opinion.

He Dongchuan asked: “You don’t want the sewing machine or the bicycle?”

“I’m not working. The canteen is just a few steps away, so there’s no use for a bicycle.” Su Ting said, then thought for a moment. “But it’s okay to buy it. You could use it when you go to the base.”

The family compound wasn’t far from the Military Camp—about two kilometers. If Su Ting walked, it would take her over half an hour, but He Dongchuan could get there in just ten minutes by running back and forth every day.

But if they bought the bicycle, it would definitely be more convenient for him to get to and from work every day. There were people in the family compound who rode bicycles, and they always came back especially early in the evenings.

Su Ting said: “Let’s keep the bicycle ticket for now. I’ll sell the sewing machine ticket though. Even if I bought it, I can’t make any clothes.”

He Dongchuan had seen Su Ting’s attempts at mending clothes, and the stitching was painful to look at. At a glance, it looked like a centipede had crawled onto the fabric.

Although He Yan was precocious, he was still only six years old. When he played too hard, he didn’t care about anything, often ending up kneeling or sitting on the ground. As a result, the knees and butt of his pants frequently ended up with holes.

After Su Ting patched up his clothes once, He Yan became more careful when playing, because he was too embarrassed to wear the pants she had patched—they were so poorly done that he didn’t want to go outside in them!

Seeing Su Ting’s sewing skills, He Dongchuan thought she wouldn’t really need a sewing machine and said: “Alright, I’ll ask around these few days to see if I can exchange these tickets for something useful.”

While they were talking, the three of them arrived at the fan counter.

There were quite a few fans displayed on the counter, with a wide variety of brands. However, the most famous one was Huasheng, an old brand established before the founding of the country. The quality of their fans was outstanding, and correspondingly, the price was quite high, almost two hundred yuan each.

Other brands were much cheaper. Some could be bought for just over a hundred yuan, while the more expensive ones didn’t exceed one hundred and fifty, and the ones priced at one hundred and fifty were pedestal fans.

Su Ting wanted to buy a pedestal fan because it was convenient to use, and the price wasn’t really a consideration for her. After all, He Dongchuan had a high salary, and two hundred yuan could be saved in two months.

Actually, Su Ting wasn’t blindly choosing the more expensive option without considering practicality.

She had thought it over in her mind. The quality of appliances back then was generally good. For example, many people who bought fans in the 70s and 80s could still use them after fifty years with just a good cleaning and plugging them in.

Of course, she didn’t expect the fan she bought to last decades, but even if it lasted just five years, it would only cost forty yuan a year.

Pingchuan Island was located at a low latitude, with long summers. The fan would be used from early May to late September, which meant about five months of use. When calculated, that worked out to eight yuan per month, and when spread out per day, it was almost negligible.

There weren’t many styles of pedestal fans—only five. Su Ting asked the salesperson to try each one, and finally chose the most expensive Huasheng brand.

After paying and receiving the packaged fan, He Dongchuan took it and left, carrying the fan while also holding onto all the bags of food. None of the food was given to Su Ting.

However, Su Ting didn’t feel right letting him carry everything, so she took the food from his hands, opened a package as they walked, and shared it with He Yan.

He Dongchuan: “…”

For a moment, he couldn’t tell if Su Ting was just craving the food or if she was trying to help lighten his load because he was carrying so many things.

—

He Yan was very excited about the fan. As soon as they returned home, he eagerly urged his father to turn it on.

He Dongchuan, unable to resist his son’s insistence, opened the box containing the fan, took it out, and plugged it into the living room outlet. He switched it on at the lowest setting.

The fan blades started to spin with a whoosh, and He Yan walked toward the fan, squinting his eyes and letting the cool breeze brush against his cheeks.

When He Dongchuan saw that He Yan was about to press his face too close to the fan’s cover, he reminded him: “Don’t get too close.”

He Yan replied with a simple “Okay.” and took small steps backward, moving four steps away before looking up and asking: “Is this okay?”

“That’s fine.”

He Dongchuan nodded and went off to do his own thing, leaving He Yan standing in front of the fan, hopping from side to side, trying to make sure every pore of his body was being hit by the wind.

When Su Ting came out of the Master’s Bedroom, she saw He Yan standing in front of the fan, both hands raised high, spinning in circles. She couldn’t help but smile and ask: “Do you want me to buy you a skirt?”

“Mom!” He Yan stopped spinning, cocked his head, and asked: “Why would you want to buy me a skirt?”

“You’d look like a princess if you wore a skirt and spun around here.” Su Ting teased. However, after imagining the scene, she felt a strange urge. 

He Yan was quite good-looking—slim, tall, fair, and delicate. He’d definitely look good in women’s clothes. Plus, wearing women’s clothing would be such a precious experience; who knows if he’d ever get another chance in this lifetime.

Seeing the excited look in Su Ting’s eyes, He Yan had a bad feeling and took half a step back. “I don’t want it. I’m not a girl.”

Su Ting continued joking: “It’s not just girls who can wear skirts. You’re still young, so you should try different clothing styles. Besides, you’re good-looking, so you’d look great in a skirt. And if I tie two little buns on your head, you’d definitely be adorable…”

As she spoke, Su Ting reached up and playfully tugged at He Yan’s hair, mimicking the style.

The more He Yan heard, the wider his mouth opened. He was afraid Su Ting would actually make him wear a skirt, so when he saw his dad walking into the room, he quickly ran to him and jumped into his arms, shouting: “Dad, help! Mom’s gone crazy! She wants me to wear a skirt!!!”

He Dongchuan first knocked lightly on He Yan’s head, his expression serious. “What kind of language is that?” he said, before asking: “So what’s going on?”

Su Ting explained with a smile: “I saw him spinning around, and I jokingly said I’d buy him a skirt.” then leaned in and asked: “Xiao Yan, you really don’t want a skirt? You’d look really cute in one!”

He Yan was adamant: “I don’t want it!”

Su Ting sighed: “Alright, if you don’t want it, then forget it.”

Ah, this would be a future big shot’s dark history.

Because of this incident, He Yan no longer dared to spin around the fan, fearing that Su Ting might force him to wear a skirt.

However, He Dongchuan remained extremely enthusiastic about the fan. That evening, when Su Ting returned to the bedroom after her shower and was drying her face and combing her hair, He Dongchuan was still tinkering with the fan, adjusting its angle. He even asked Su Ting how many wind settings she wanted to turn it on to.

Su Ting had just finished combing her hair and got into bed when He Dongchuan grabbed her wrist and said: “Let’s try the fan, shall we?”

“Isn’t it already tested?” Su Ting asked, puzzled. They had tried it when buying the fan, and after returning home, they had been using it for a while. The quality was definitely fine.

He Dongchuan replied: “It’s not about testing this one.”

“Then what are we testing?”

“Testing if the wind is strong enough while we sleep, to see if you’re still hot.” He Dongchuan said seriously, then leaned down to kiss Su Ting on the lips.

That night, Su Ting was held by He Dongchuan as they positioned themselves in every direction—head, feet, front, and back—three hundred sixty degrees, feeling the fan’s breeze in all its strength.

Before drifting into darkness, Su Ting remembered a topic she had read before she traveled through time—how conservative people in the 70s and 80s were.

The answers varied, and she had once contributed to the discussion, writing an 800-word response based on information she’d absorbed from who knows where.

But now, thinking about that response, all Su Ting could do was chuckle.

Conservative my foot! He Dongchuan had already turned the fan into something of a game! And to call him conservative, she couldn’t even agree to the fan being on!