Chapter 37

Xu Wanchun had been certain.

Certain that her master and mistress would agree to go visit Shanghai.

She just hadn’t expected them to be this eager.

The couple decided even an express letter wouldn’t be fast enough. That’s right—not even express mail was acceptable.

And so, before the sun was even up the next day, the two of them rushed off to the town post office to place a long-distance call.

When Xu Wanchun finally crawled out from her warm blankets and heard about it from her mom, she was still half-asleep. “They left before dawn?”

Xu Hehua handed her daughter the clothes folded at the end of the kang. “Mm-hmm. And it’s still snowing out there. They left in the snow. It’s understandable—your master and mistress have wanted to see Jingliang for a long time. But the rules at Military Medical University are strict. They were worried they’d negatively affect his studies, so they kept holding back.”

“So that means they’ll probably be leaving soon?”

“Should be. They said they’ll ask someone to buy the train tickets while they’re at it.”

As Xu Wanchun buttoned up her cotton-padded jacket and pulled on the pants her mother handed her, she added, “Perfect. I’ll ask Mistress to bring my letter to Senior Brother too.”

After years of correspondence between the senior and junior siblings, Xu Hehua was already used to it. She had no interest in the contents of the letters. She just patted her daughter—who had already started playing with the cats and dogs again—and scolded affectionately, “Enough fooling around. Come eat breakfast. Grandma Wu made your favorite—pan-fried buns!”

“Wow~ Pan-fried buns!”

Xu Wanchun cheered, abandoning the astragalus and poria in favor of quickly slipping on her shoes and hopping off the kang.

Xu Hehua’s gaze was full of affection. She bent down and quickly folded up the bedding on the kang.

Seeing this, Xu Wanchun—currently brushing her hair—felt a little guilty. “Mom, I can do it.”

“It’s just a quick job.”

—

After enjoying a delicious breakfast…

Xu Wanchun didn’t rush back inside. Instead, she helped her mother shovel the snow around their homes.

From time to time, she’d throw herself into snowdrifts with the silly dog, laughing loudly with pure joy.

Wu Yuzhen, who had joined in shoveling snow, chuckled, “This girl has such a lively personality. Just looking at her makes you feel happy.”

Xu Hehua, however, was a little puzzled. “When she was little, she was actually very quiet. The older she gets, the more playful she becomes.”

Wu Yuzhen, who already knew the girl’s background, couldn’t help thinking deeper. “Probably because she didn’t feel secure when she was younger—afraid you wouldn’t want her, so she had to be extra well-behaved.”

Xu Hehua’s hand paused.

She had never thought of it that way—not because she was oblivious, but because the moment she decided to bring the child home, she had never once considered giving her up.

But she had forgotten—at only eight years old, of course the child would feel insecure.

That was only natural.

Thinking of this, Xu Hehua couldn’t help blaming herself for being careless.

Wu Yuzhen, sharp-eyed and experienced, could see right away that Hehua was overthinking it. “Don’t dwell on it. No matter who the person is, no matter their background, living together always requires a period of adjustment. And look at you now—aren’t you doing great?”

That was true.

Xu Hehua looked toward her daughter, who was now rolling in a snowdrift with a giant orange tabby in her arms. “Don’t freeze out there!”

Once she started moving, the cold wasn’t so bad—Xu Wanchun even broke a bit of a sweat.

But since her mother was worried, she reined in her playful energy and started tossing a homemade flying ball for Danggui to chase.

With a strong throw, she sent the rattan-woven ball soaring out of the yard.

And just as it flew off, Danggui let out a series of excited barks and darted after it at top speed.

Ever since Xu Wanchun had gone to the county for junior high, she rarely had time to play with Danggui.

So this time, she made up for it, playing with the dog for a whole hour.

Her arms were sore from throwing before she finally returned inside to study.

Xu Hehua wasn’t idle either.

By late February and early March, it was time to prepare for spring farming.

Composting, repairing tools, selecting quality seeds…

As the village accountant, she didn’t need to do manual labor, but she was still busy from morning to night.

It wasn’t until the fourth day of Xu Wanchun’s stay—after sending off the Cao couple, who had set off for Shanghai with big bags in tow—that Xu Hehua finally got a half-day break.

But even during this brief lull, she didn’t rest. She clutched a workbook, working on problems while discussing the next accountant candidate with her daughter.

Xu Wanchun, sitting nearby, was practicing subcutaneous sutures on a piece of pork with skin.

Other than Cousin Hu Sanya, the other names her mother mentioned were unfamiliar—probably women from other hamlets.

People are naturally partial to their own kin, and Xu Wanchun was no exception. Her first thought, of course, was her own cousin.

She still remembered years ago when Sanya had cooked up the idea to elope with her silly cousin. From then on, she thought the woman had a good head on her shoulders.

On top of that, thanks to her mother’s years of literacy classes, Cousin Sanya was the only one in the village who had stuck with it the entire time.

So, Xu Wanchun had a decent impression of her.

Thinking of all this, she replied while handling her needle driver, “We should obviously start with one of our own. We promote the capable without avoiding our relatives. We’ll go talk to the old Party Secretary soon.”

Xu Hehua certainly preferred recommending family too—but that would be difficult.

Her own success had come only after years of preparation.

From a literacy teacher, to women’s committee leader, and finally to accountant—on top of support from the old Party Secretary and Doctor Cao—Xu Hehua had worked her way up step by step over the years.

But Hu Sanya didn’t have any authority or prestige in the village.

Xu Wanchun didn’t see that as a problem. “Then we build it. She’s got over a year to grow into the role.”

Xu Hehua asked sincerely, “How do we build it?”

Without even looking up, Xu Wanchun replied, “There are tons of ways. Like doing good deeds, or—if there aren’t any—staging a few. Be active in labor, too. Oh, and maybe we can ask Master to pull some strings and get her trained to drive a tractor. If needed, she can even write an article. I’ll help polish it up. If it gets published, that’ll seal the deal. Of course, all of this needs to be publicized. Get the gossipy aunties to spread the word. A year and a half is plenty of time to build up Cousin’s reputation.”

Xu Hehua had always known her daughter had a sharp mind. And she considered herself someone good at handling people—kind and open-hearted when she wanted to be.

But… this kind of scheming? It was her first time witnessing it up close. For a moment, she didn’t even know how to respond.

After a long pause, Xu Hehua suddenly said, “No wonder the books say scholars are all scheming.”

Huh? Xu Wanchun finally turned to look at her mother, confused. “Are you calling me scheming?”

Xu Hehua put on a straight face. “No, your mother is merely stating a fact.”

Xu Wanchun made a face of mock innocence. She wanted to say that what she’d just listed was nothing—barely the tip of the iceberg in the eyes of people who really knew how to manipulate things.

But she swallowed those words, just smiling instead. “Actually, the most important thing is the foundation. As the saying goes: ‘To forge iron, one must be strong oneself.’ Everything else is superficial. In the end, there’ll probably be an exam for the position. If Cousin doesn’t have real skills, even if we clear every external obstacle for her, it’ll all be for nothing. You might as well save yourself the trouble.”

Xu Hehua nodded repeatedly. “You’re right. It’s perfectly fine for us to want to support one of our own, but the foundation matters most. Sanya needs to keep those books clear and clean.”

Hearing this, Xu Wanchun didn’t say anything more. She began to undo the stitches on the pigskin. “In the next couple of days, talk to Cousin. If she’s willing to give it a try, I’ll go with you to see the old Secretary. We’ll need to give him a heads-up so he can help at the right moment.”

Xu Hehua asked, “Do you think he’ll be willing?”

Xu Wanchun still didn’t look up. “I have my own bargaining chips.”

Xu Hehua: “……”

—

Three more days passed in a blink.

Xu Wanchun’s leave was coming to an end.

Fortunately, after a few days of consideration, Cousin Sanya decided to take on the accountant role.

So Xu Wanchun led her and her mother, bringing along gifts, to visit the old Party Secretary.

The outcome, naturally, was good.

When they came out again half an hour later, Xu Hehua had been itching with curiosity—curious about what exactly her daughter had said to the old Party Secretary when they spoke privately.

After all, when they had first explained their purpose, the old man hadn’t shown any clear support.

But Xu Wanchun didn’t explain. She only smiled mysteriously, “The mountain man has his own clever tricks!”

In truth, it wasn’t anything complicated. She just used her advantage of knowing the future. She told the old Party Secretary that while she was in the county, she’d heard that next year the country would organize a militia.

Whether it was training or missions, participants would receive subsidies.

Of course, the old Secretary was a shrewd man—one piece of information was enough. There was no need for Xu Wanchun to elaborate further.

Back at the Xu household, after the mother and daughter left, Xu Jingjun frowned as he slowly smoked the rest of his pipe tobacco. Then he told his wife, “Get me some yellow paper, two white steamed buns, and a bit of liquor.”

Xu Lishi was startled. She instinctively got up to check if anyone was outside, and once she confirmed they were alone, she smacked her reckless husband. “What do you need that stuff for?”

Xu Jingjun, with his weathered face, replied, “Nothing much. I just want to ask our ancestors—when the heck is smoke going to rise from our ancestral tomb? How come that old fox Xu Chunsheng ended up with a granddaughter like Peach Blossom?”

“You’re just bitter!” Xu Lishi rolled her eyes and ignored the old man’s nonsense as she carried a basket into the kitchen.

Xu Jingjun: …

—

Meanwhile in Shanghai, the Cao family of three—finally reunited after seven years—were also talking about Xu Wanchun.

After such a long separation, both elders, Cao Xiu and Su Nan, as well as Cao Jingliang himself, were overjoyed to be together again.

Once the initial excitement wore off, they started sharing stories about their lives and future plans.

Living in a remote village like Xujia Tun, Su Nan’s world was pretty small. Aside from her husband, the person she paid most attention to was Xu Wanchun.

So, naturally, she brought her up again and again in the conversation.

“…Oh right! Peach Blossom sent you a letter.” Su Nan began rummaging through her small handbag. She’d been so happy to see her son that she’d completely forgotten.

It was lunchtime, and Cao Jingliang had taken his parents to a restaurant. Just as he poured hot water into their cups to rinse them, he heard his mother mention a letter from his junior.

To be honest, his hand trembled slightly.

Thankfully, it wasn’t very noticeable. He’d already steadied his expression before his parents noticed anything.

He pushed the cups of tea toward his parents before picking up the letter and placing it by his side.

Su Nan urged him, “Hurry, read what Peach Blossom wrote!”

Cao Jingliang was a bit surprised. “Right now?”

Su Nan replied, “Well, we’ve still got time before the food comes.”

Truthfully, Cao Jingliang was curious about the letter. Over the past few days, he’d been turning over that one cryptic sentence his junior had said on the phone. He felt like she hadn’t told him everything.

So, with his mother’s encouragement, he went ahead and opened the envelope.

The letter wasn’t long—only two pages—but everything that needed to be said was in there.

The questions that had been weighing on him finally had answers.

With the tension in his chest easing, what remained was a deep sense of gratitude.

“What did Peach Blossom say? Look at you smiling like that,” Su Nan asked lazily, resting her chin on her hand.

Was he smiling? Snapping back to reality, Cao Jingliang chuckled again. Folding the letter back up, he replied, “Just some interesting stories.”

Su Nan didn’t press for details. Instead, she brought up an old topic: “So, have you thought about the engagement with Peach Blossom? Last time, your response in your letter was vague.”

Hearing this, even Cao Xiu, who had been quietly sipping his tea, chimed in: “Peach Blossom is a great girl. Your mother and I both really like her. But marriage is your own decision. Engagement only makes sense if both of you agree. As your elders, we’re just offering a suggestion.”

Cao Jingliang refilled his father’s tea and then asked with a smile, “And what does Peach Blossom say?”

Su Nan looked surprised. “What kind of question is that? You’re the man—if you’re on board, then I’ll talk to Peach Blossom properly.”

Cao Jingliang… Honestly, he had zero experience in these matters and had never paid attention to this sort of thing before.

“Don’t clam up again. What’s your decision?” Su Nan tapped the table impatiently.

“…I agree to the engagement!” Under the table, Cao Jingliang’s fingers subconsciously touched the letter he’d slipped into his pocket, his ears tinged slightly red.

Cough cough… His junior sister made a good point—getting engaged was good for everyone.

As for whether that engagement would lead to marriage… well, like Peach Blossom said, they could decide after he returned from the frontier in five years.

Finally hearing the answer she wanted, Su Nan was over the moon. She immediately pulled another paper from her bag and handed it to her son: “Here’s a list of things your fiancée wants to buy. You handle it.”

Fiancée already? Cao Jingliang felt like his whole neck had turned red. Awkwardly, he took the list and muttered, “Shouldn’t we ask Peach Blossom again first?”

But Su Nan just waved it off with a smile. “No need. She’s practically like my own daughter. Of course I’d ask her opinion first.”

Cao Jingliang felt like he couldn’t breathe. “Mom… that’s not what you just said.”

Su Nan patted him lightly. “Oh hush. Girls need to be reserved. Why are you talking so much?”

Cao Jingliang: “…”

—