Chapter 2: The Stinky Younger Brother

Today was the day for educated youth to be sent to the countryside. Green uniforms, red sashes, and drums urging them on for the third round.

As soon as Chen Siyu stepped out of the apartment building, the deafening sound of drums filled the street.

Drawing upon her past life experience in this city, she looked up towards the northwest—that was the direction of the “Empty Courtyard.” The General Art Troupe was right next to the Empty Courtyard, which would soon be where she would work and showcase her talents.

Taking a deep breath, the air of the 1960s felt fresh and sweet.

Families had gathered in the courtyard to see who among them would be going to the countryside this time. Upon seeing a slender figure appear, they sighed in unison: “So thin and frail, who is that? Going to the countryside too?”

But when they saw her face, they immediately said in chorus, “Ah, Siyu! You’re exactly the one who should be sent down. The drums have sounded three times already—hurry up, or you’ll miss your group!”

The young men of North City had been fighting, jealous and brawling every day, all because of her. Chen Siyu—North City’s number one “prickly fruit.” Everyone in the Military Compound couldn’t wait for her to get lost.

Under such open ridicule, by rights, Chen Siyu should have felt ashamed. But she didn’t. She walked straight over to the most aggressive-looking auntie in the crowd and sweetly called out, “Auntie Wang.”

“Bah!” Auntie Wang spat on the ground, a glob landing right next to Chen Siyu’s feet.

This was Wang Fenfang, whose son, Fang Xiaohai, was the so-called “witness” against Chen Nianqin—the very same Fang Xiaohai Chen Siyu had called a stinking hooligan.

Indeed, Fang Xiaohai had once acted indecently toward Chen Siyu, though not in the romantic sense.

Back then, Fang Xiaohai had stolen his older brother’s brand-new green military cap to give to Siyu, hoping she’d ride on the back of his bicycle and go out for a spin with him. But Siyu, after taking the cap, had immediately jumped onto the bicycle of Gao Daguang, a newly recruited cadre’s son from the neighboring Art Troupe, who had a good family background and was a university student to boot.

Not only did Fang Xiaohai fail to get the girl to ride with him, he even got beaten up by his brother for stealing the cap. Furious, he had blocked Siyu’s path to demand the hat back. But Siyu, a person who only knew how to take without giving, outright refused. When Fang Xiaohai so much as tugged at her sleeve, she’d started screaming about how he was harassing her, threatening to report him to the police for being a “stinking hooligan.”

In the end, it was Fang’s father who had to personally plead with Siyu before she dropped the matter. Of course, she kept the cap anyway, wearing it around proudly.

Now, that same girl, looking fresh as a budding green sprout in early spring, removed the brand-new military cap from her head. Holding it carefully in both hands, she bowed ninety degrees and offered it back to Wang Fenfang. “Auntie, I’m truly sorry. I was completely out of line before. This cap, I’m returning it to you.”

Well, well. The cap she had stubbornly refused to give up even after three rounds of arguments was now being returned so easily.

After all, kids can be clueless about how to behave. A little willful, but understandable.

Wang Fenfang, heart softening in an instant, took the cap and sighed, “Siyu, Auntie knows you’re a pretty girl, and all the young men like to trail after you. You’ve got high standards and want to marry into a good family. But listen to Auntie’s advice: if you really want to marry a college boy like Gao Daguang, a single cap won’t get you there.”

Chen Siyu nodded earnestly, “You’re right, Auntie. I was completely wrong before, so very wrong.”

A child about to be sent to the countryside to suffer, who’s even reflecting on her past mistakes—what more could you blame her for?

Wang Fenfang pulled out a twenty-cent sugar ration ticket. “Take this, buy yourself some sweets for the road.”

Chen Siyu was genuinely moved. The people of this era were just too pure-hearted.

Auntie Wang had spat at her three times, yet now, after just two tears, she not only forgave her but even offered her a sugar ticket?

But Chen Siyu wasn’t the original body’s owner; she didn’t have the habit of taking things from others for no reason. So, naturally, she wouldn’t accept the sugar ticket.

Moreover, with Fang Xiaohai’s father on the Ideological Committee, if she wanted to change her political classification and stay in the city later, she would need the Committee’s approval. To achieve that, she had to work hard to win over Wang Fenfang and change her impression of her.

Waving her hand, she politely said, “Auntie Wang, goodbye.”

Watching her leave, Wang Fenfang muttered, “This child… must be because she’s about to go to the countryside. She’s suddenly so sensible now.”

Carrying her bag, Chen Siyu smiled faintly. Although her starting point in this life was pure hell, the people of this era were genuinely kind and simple-hearted. Washing away her previous bad reputation shouldn’t be too difficult.

Her biological family’s home wasn’t far from here—just four bus stops away, near the Ink Factory.

But the streets were packed. One Dongfeng truck after another rumbled by, people thronging everywhere, songs blaring from loudspeakers, paralyzing all public transport.

Yet, as this was her first time truly possessing a healthy body, Chen Siyu didn’t need the bus. She also rejected all the little gangsters trying to impress her with their bikes. The wide world was open before her; she wanted to experience the joy of walking on her own two feet!

Her biological father’s name was Chen Jiaxiang.

During the war, his wife had been killed in an air raid. He had dug his crying infant daughter from the rubble and handed her over to Feng Hui, then returned to the battlefield. He fought until final victory but was wounded and discharged early, later taking a job at the Ink Factory.

Eventually, he remarried, and the woman he married was from the old society — the daughter of a big capitalist..

After the marriage, he had tried to bring Siyu home to live with them. But Siyu, used to the comforts of the military compound, despised the communal latrines of the factory dorms and couldn’t stand her gentle stepmother. Every time she came over, she’d cry and whine, until finally she stayed permanently with her adoptive family.

Though her stepmother had always treated her kindly, often bringing Siyu’s younger brother to visit her, Siyu only accepted the sweets, clothes, face cream, and pastries they brought. She never once called her “Auntie,” only ever rolling her eyes in response.

When Chen Jiaxiang was alive, things were still manageable. Although their family’s political standing had worsened due to his wife’s “bad background,” they had jobs and salaries to live on. But after his death, life for the stepmother became miserable.

In fact, the Ideological Committee hadn’t officially come knocking yet, but that stepmother — a weak and helpless rich girl — had only heard some rumors and already took to opium. Now, only Siyu’s younger brother remained in the family, supposedly living in the “Cowshed” ^[1]a makeshift reeducation labor camp.

The specifics would become clear once Siyu arrived.

But just as she entered the alleyway, Chen Siyu hit a snag.

Spotting a familiar-looking auntie, she approached and asked, “Auntie, does Xuan’ang live here?”

The woman eyed her warily and said, “Young comrade, I know you young folks are full of revolutionary fervor, but the Chen family’s all dead, except for that one child, Xuan’ang. We can vouch for him—his thoughts are pure. Please, let him be.”

Chen Siyu was momentarily baffled, but when she noticed the auntie’s gaze flicking toward the red sash at her waist, she suddenly understood: the woman had mistaken her for a Red Guard here to denounce her brother.

She was being taken for a revolutionary zealot here to “struggle” against her brother and root out class enemies.

Quickly untying her red sash, she slapped her hand to her chest. “Auntie, you must know me. I’m Xuan’ang’s older sister.”

The auntie squinted. Sure enough, wasn’t this the girl from the Chen family—the one who only acknowledged her foster family, cried every time she visited, and never stayed long?

“Oh, I remember now. Girl, weren’t you living the good life at the Military Compound? When your father died, you barely showed up. When your stepmother passed, you didn’t even come. So what brings you to our shabby little alley today?”

How was she supposed to clean up this gold-digger reputation?

Still holding her half-untied red sash, Chen Siyu smiled and said, “Well, I’ve been working hard all these years and finally passed the entrance exam for the Art Troupe. Naturally, I’m moving back to live with my little brother.”

She had indeed passed the entrance exam—she just couldn’t get in because of limited spots. So technically, it wasn’t a lie.

The Arts Troupe?

That was the dream destination for every woman in the country. And when it came to performers, people always held a kind of inexplicable fondness for them.

One of the older ladies immediately reached out to grab her hand. “Did you get in for singing or dancing? Can you sing The White-Haired Girl?”

Chen Siyu pressed her lips into a smile and nodded.

“Well then, I guess we’ve touched the hand of a real White-Haired Girl ahead of time!” another auntie said, reaching out to stroke her hand. She gasped, “Goodness, no wonder this child got into the Arts Troupe. Her hand is delicate like tofu—it feels so soft!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Tofu can’t compare to this. This is like fine jade—white mutton-fat jade!” another auntie said, rubbing her fingers over Chen Siyu’s hand again and again.

After getting their fill of “taking advantage,” the ladies became much more willing to chat with her.

Reality wasn’t as bleak as Chen Siyu had imagined.

There were no cowsheds^[2]detention barracks in the city. Even those with political mistakes were, at most, sent to do volunteer labor. Chen Xuan’ang was only 12 years old, still at school age. As long as he wanted to study, he could still go to school.

But it was he who didn’t want to go. He had voluntarily applied to work in the boiler room.

As for his residence, he still lived in the Ink Factory’s family housing compound. It was just that they had moved to a smaller room than before.

“Xuan’ang’s just like his mother—no issues with his ideological awareness. When his mom left home back then, she took nothing but the clothes on her back. And when Xuan’ang went to the boiler room, he didn’t even bring a change of clothes. He left the door wide open. That’s what you call a clear conscience. If you’re here trying to get something out of him, at most you’ll scrape off some paint from the walls,” an older lady added.

At first, Chen Siyu didn’t understand what she meant. But after mulling it over, she got it.

Chen Xuan’ang was 12, now an orphan.

And his mother had once been a renowned socialite in North City, the eldest daughter of the Chen Family Pawnshop.

There’s a saying: “A starved camel is still bigger than a horse.”

But the original Chen Siyu had such a terrible character. The old ladies probably thought she was here to extort or blackmail Chen Xuan’ang.

They were clearly trying to let her know—Xuan’ang had nothing now, not a penny to his name.

But in the original story, after the male lead “conquered” by the heroine, he became her main financial backer.

There was a scene where the heroine was about to perform an important solo but lost the necklace that matched her dress. She was so desperate she almost jumped off a building. In the end, it was Chen Xuan’ang who gave her a genuine ruby necklace and saved the day.

But now, his family home’s wide open, and he’s living in the boiler room. So where is that necklace? Hidden somewhere?

At just 12 years old, this kid was already playing a masterful empty-fort strategy (bluffing with nothing in hand).

Still, despite his age, he was the official head of the household. Without his approval, it would be nearly impossible for her to be registered on the family’s residence permit.

Chen Siyu didn’t care about her brother’s assets. But to stay in the Arts Troupe, she had to get herself registered on his household record.

A small, seemingly naive but secretly scheming boy—this really ignited Chen Siyu’s competitive streak!