Chapter 004

004  

Liu Hongxing choked, stammering under the collective gaze of the crowd—how could she possibly say it out loud?  

Admit that she wanted to steal Qingyin’s job? The gossip in the compound alone would drown her!  

A lump of frustration stuck in her throat like a date pit, leaving her breathless. Her face flushed red and pale in turns, a sight to behold.  

Ignoring the fuming Liu Hongxing, who was rolling her eyes, and Qing Huihui, who looked as if she’d swallowed a fly, Qingyin turned to the onlookers and spoke deliberately:  

“Since childhood, I’ve studied Traditional Chinese Medicine under my father. All the uncles, aunts, and elders here have witnessed it, and I’ve never forgotten the kindness you’ve shown me over the years. Fortunately, I’m not entirely without talent—I’ve managed to grasp a little of his knowledge. In the future, I will work hard to carry on my father’s medical legacy, relieve the suffering of the people, and contribute my share to our nation’s healthcare.”  

Her voice was steady and firm, though still tinged with youthful timidity. There was even a faint echo of Old Mr. Qing’s commanding presence in her words.  

Someone began clapping, and soon, the crowd erupted into prolonged applause.  

“Well said! I always knew little Qingyin was bright. She followed the old man in and out all these years—of course she learned the real skills!”  

“The Qing family’s medical legacy has an heir. Old Mr. Qing can rest in peace now.” When the old man passed last year, everyone had lamented the potential loss of his medical knowledge. It wasn’t just about the family—his skills had benefited everyone. In his time, how much had he saved them all in medical expenses?  

“We used to think she was just tagging along for fun. Who knew she’d turn out to be the most gifted of the Qings?”  

As a child, little Qingyin, being younger than the other kids in the compound, had often been left out by Huihui. With no one to play with, she had no choice but to accompany her aging father on his rounds. Whether she had truly learned anything, only she knew. But as long as she insisted she had, no one could prove otherwise.  

Qing Huihui wanted to say more, but Lin Suifen discreetly tugged her sleeve and gave her a meaningful look.  

A mother knows her daughter best. She knew Huihui would publicly question her little aunt’s medical skills, but now wasn’t the time. Whether Qingyin had truly learned anything—and how much—would naturally become clear later. Today, they had already lost the crowd’s sympathy and the job. If they kept pushing, they’d only look desperate.  

Besides, Qingyin was right under her nose. She could keep an eye on her.  

By the time the crowd dispersed, Qingyin’s stomach was growling with hunger. She hurried to the kitchen with the potatoes, leaving the doors and windows open so everyone could see—she wasn’t relying on Lin Suifen and Qing Huihui to feed her. She could cook for herself!  

And cook she did—spectacularly well.  

The potatoes weren’t large, only about the size of a child’s fist. Qingyin casually sliced them into finger-thick strips, heated two generous spoonfuls of vegetable oil in the pan, and fried them.  

The Qing household had always eaten well. There were still five or six pounds of vegetable oil left, all bought with her father and elder brother’s wages. Qingyin didn’t hold back—the more oil, the tastier.  

Once the strips turned golden and crisp, they clattered into the bowl with a satisfying crunch. A sprinkle of chili, soy sauce, and Sichuan peppercorns, a quick toss, and a simple homemade version of spicy fries was ready.  

Men, women, and children in the compound inhaled deeply, intoxicated by the aroma.  

The kids refused to touch their own bland, oil-less coarse grains anymore, clamoring for Qingyin’s fried potatoes—spicy, numbing, and utterly irresistible!

Qingyin didn’t care whether the mother and daughter would eat or not, carrying the entire pot into her room by herself. In this era without additives, everything tasted incredibly delicious.  

On the other side, in the Liu family’s front courtyard house, the whole family was as gloomy as if their father had died.  

“Third Sister, think carefully—did Qingyin really say that?” Liu Zhiqiang still found it unbelievable. Everyone knew what kind of pushover Xiao Qingyin was. When he and his three sisters were kids, they had swindled plenty of good things from her.  

The girl had no mother, and her sister-in-law didn’t genuinely care for her. With no one to confide in, yet spoiled rotten by the Qing father and son, she was practically handed nice things on a silver platter—no wonder the four Liu siblings had their eyes on her.  

They wouldn’t dare hit her, but they could trick her, coax her, pretend to play with her or share snacks, and she’d obediently hand over her treasures for everyone to “share.” Once they’d stuffed themselves, they’d half-heartedly play with her for a bit, and the silly girl would even thank them for it.  

What could they do? The Liu family was struggling financially. With Liu Dama raising four kids alone, life was just too hard.  

Liu Hongxing’s eyes were red. “It’s true—half the courtyard heard it.” All that time wasted squatting in the toilet, her legs numb, and spending money on two handfuls of sunflower seeds—only for them to end up in Qing Huihui’s stomach!  

Liu Zhiqiang tapped his fingers lightly on the table. “Not only did she debunk the whole ‘supporting Little Aunt’s education’ rumor, but she also got the job settled?”  

They had originally planned to gaslight her into feeling guilty toward her elder brother and sister-in-law, but it seemed that wasn’t going to work.  

“Auntie, I want fried potatoes!” Nephew Haitao slammed down his half-eaten bowl of coarse corn porridge, pouting.  

“I want some too. Why don’t you go ask Aunt Qingyin and see if she’ll give you any?”  

Haitao immediately grabbed the biggest bowl from Grandpa’s house and dashed toward the backyard.  

This was their usual tactic—whenever the backyard smelled of meat or fine grains, they’d send the kids over shamelessly with the biggest bowl to beg for some.  

“If I don’t get a job, I’ll have to go to the countryside by next month at the latest.”  

“Xiao He from Courtyard No. 20 was sent to the Great Northern Wilderness—that’s no life for a human. And his girlfriend went to Hainan, where the heat can peel your skin off. They say her face got sunburned red and black, and now they’ve broken up.”  

“Zhiqiang, you have to help your third sister. I gave up my education for you. Back then, our family couldn’t afford to send two kids to school. I was such a good student, but I quit for you.”  

Liu Zhiqiang assured her he wouldn’t forget, but a trace of mockering flashed in his downcast eyes.  

The family waited and waited until it was dark, but Haitao still hadn’t returned with a bowl of fried potatoes. “That brat must’ve eaten them all and didn’t dare come home. Pah! ‘A nephew is like a dog—eat and run’—how true.”  

With Haitao’s mother absent, the family spent half an hour cursing him out—which, admittedly, made for a good appetite.  

As for Qingyin, she had heard Haitao knocking but ignored it. Why share when she could enjoy it herself? Honestly, when it came to the Liu family, she’d rather feed the leftovers to dogs than give them a single bite. Bullies who tormented Xiao Qingyin, stole her dowry and house, then pushed her out to take the fall—not a single decent one among them.  

She ate until she hiccuped, and even though she was stuffed, she forced down the last few pieces.

“Auntie, where are the fried potatoes you made? Use less oil next time. Soy sauce costs money too, and buying chili and Sichuan pepper isn’t easy. We need to budget carefully.” Qing Huihui searched the kitchen but found nothing, so she came straight to Qingyin’s room to ask.

“Finished them.”

“What? You ate them all??”

Qingyin looked at her as if she were an idiot. “It’s not like I couldn’t finish them. *Burp—*”

Qing Huihui was utterly stunned. Her aunt had used so much oil and seasoning to fry those golden, crispy potatoes—and she’d eaten every last piece!

Qingyin waved a hand. “Close the door.”

Qing Huihui nearly tripped over the threshold. What was wrong with her aunt today? She never used to argue back, but today she did. She never wanted to work before, but today she’d sorted it out. She never ate alone, but today she did.

After lying down for a while, Qingyin locked the door and began rummaging through her things.

In the original owner’s memories, the old man had secretly left her something before he passed away. But at the time, she’d been too grief-stricken to pay attention. After going hungry for a day, Qingyin was genuinely scared. She needed to find some money and ration coupons to tide her over until her first paycheck arrived—she had to make sure she didn’t starve to death first.

Qingyin had a room all to herself—a spacious thirty-square-meter area divided by a bamboo partition covered in newspaper. The inner section had a kang bed, while the outer part served as her study, with a small bookshelf and a desk by the window. Though it was an earthen bed, it was neatly made with a floral-patterned quilt. The rear window had two layers of curtains: white gauze and red-and-white checkered. The desk was impeccably tidy, covered with a white lace tablecloth and a sheet of glass the same size as the desktop, its corners worn smooth.

Under the glass was a family photo, radiating warmth.

In this era, living conditions like these were reserved for the privileged few.

Qingyin searched everywhere—her well-read Soviet novels, the frayed poetry collections—but found nothing. Finally, she discovered a stash tucked between the Xinhua Dictionary, the Idiom Dictionary, and the English Dictionary on her bookshelf.

Neatly folded inside were colorful bills and ration coupons—each one a token of the old man’s love for her.

And love there was aplenty. There was 300 yuan in cash alone, along with plenty of grain, cloth, and meat coupons—all nationally valid and recently issued.

Qingyin kept a small amount on her and hid the rest in a place only she could find. Early the next morning, once Qing Huihui had left for work and Lin Suifen had gone grocery shopping, she hurried to the alley entrance to look for someone.

In this era, street vending wasn’t entirely forbidden. The policy allowed urban poor and disabled individuals facing extreme financial hardship to set up stalls in designated areas. She remembered the man she’d seen the other day had only one arm.

But after searching around, Qingyin couldn’t find him. Just as she was about to venture farther, a whistle sounded behind her.

At first, she ignored it. But no matter where she went, the annoying sound followed, accompanied by the dragging of poorly worn shoes scraping against the ground.

She turned around. Behind her were two young men—or more accurately, “spiritual youths”: sagging military pants with belts peeking out, crooked-collared sailor shirts, and green rubber shoes worn sloppily.

Faced with such “spiritual youths,” she didn’t even want to look at their faces. Frowning, she asked bluntly, “What do you want?”

Honestly, at that moment, she felt like she was scrolling through some short video app and getting recommended those cringy “spiritual bros” clips—this account was completely ruined.

If she had looked at their faces, she would have noticed that the taller one had strikingly beautiful peach-blossom eyes, his dark pupils filled with a scrutinizing gaze.

“She—she just left?!”

Watching her walk away without a second glance, Gangzi panicked: “Brother Anzi, am I seeing things? Xiao Qingyin actually ignored you?”

“No wonder Xiao Liu and the others said they ran into her at the alleyway last time, and she didn’t even spare them a glance.”

Gu An kicked him. “Get lost. She must not have recognized me in this outfit today.”

Gulping, Gangzi didn’t dare complain about the pain, though he couldn’t help doubting inwardly: This is the girl you’ve had a Childhood Sweetheart Marriage Arrangement with since childhood—she’d recognize you even if you turned to ashes, right?