Chapter 010

010

She always felt that Uncle Liu, who seemed ordinary on the surface, must have had an extraordinary life experience.

But since he was unwilling to share, she wouldn’t ask further, only feeling a bit more respect for him in her heart.

Later, she went to another key stall to inquire, and the lock she bought that day was at least two dimes more expensive than Uncle Liu’s price, and they could only provide two keys, keeping one for themselves.

Even though she didn’t save Da Ya, Uncle Liu treated every customer equally.

Just based on this point, Qingyin felt that the old man was worthy of respect.

***

The women of the Qing family were each happy in their own way, but only Qing Huihui wore a worried frown. As soon as she was out of Lin Suifen’s sight, she turned into the back room of the Liu family.

“Brother Zhiqiang, I’m sorry, my mom can’t help Sister Hongxing.”

Liu Zhiqiang cursed “useless” in his heart but smiled gently on his face, “It’s fine. This was originally asking too much of you. You’ve already done your best; we understand.”

He shouldn’t have said anything, but once he did, Qing Huihui felt he was too understanding and considerate, making her guilt even stronger. “I’m sorry, Brother Zhiqiang. How about I ask Little Aunt again? She will definitely soften.”

Liu Zhiqiang shook his head, “Forget it, she’s not the same as before.”

This little silly girl had grown at an astonishing speed after experiencing the loss of a relative.

“What should we do then? Is Sister Hongxing really going to the countryside?”

“The countryside is no place for people. Xiao He’s sister went down just two years ago and married a farmer there. Now she’s making a fuss about the He family helping her and her husband find work. And that other one, she went to the Great Northern Wilderness, came back last Spring Festival, and I saw her hair had turned half white. Plus…”

“Enough.”

Liu Zhiqiang was indifferent. Their family had always been like this; he was the most important, followed by his parents, then his eldest sister, then his second sister, and finally his third sister. Sacrificing the third sister for the peace of the whole family wasn’t out of the question.

“I have a plan.” Suddenly, a woman in her thirties entered the room, with short hair to her ears and a waxy yellow face marked with several brown spots, making her look quite haggard.

The newcomer was Liu Hongmei, the eldest sister of the Liu family. She was also considered capable in the Liu family, managing to carve out a path for herself in a family that favored sons over daughters. She graduated early from university before 1966 and entered the district hospital, becoming an excellent internal medicine doctor.

Due to her diligence and eagerness to learn, she was now the deputy director of internal medicine.

“Did you not sleep well last night, eldest sister?”

Liu Hongmei shook her head, her eyes dark with fatigue, looking utterly exhausted. A fierce glint suddenly flashed in Liu Zhiqiang’s eyes.

But the tacit understanding formed between the siblings over the years kept them from saying anything in front of outsiders.

“Is there really a way for Eldest Sister to prevent Sister Hongxing from going to the countryside?”

“Hmm, thank you, Huihui, for your efforts on behalf of our family during this time. You should go back and wait for good news.”

Qing Huihui wanted to ask more, but facing the amiable Liu Hongmei always made her feel a bit timid. She had an aura similar to that of factory leaders, which made her hesitant to inquire further.

Once she left, Liu Hongmei opened the doors and windows of the house to ensure no one was hiding outside to overhear their conversation. Then she sat cross-legged on the kang and whispered a few words.

“What? Would the third sister be willing?”

Liu Hongmei sighed lightly, “Whether she’s willing or not, it doesn’t matter; circumstances are stronger than individuals.”

Liu Zhiqiang was still a bit hesitant. Recalling the idea that had just popped into his head, he tentatively said, “Elder sister, there’s something new that happened in our compound recently that you probably don’t know about…” He went on to recount every detail of Commander Qu’s visit with gifts of gratitude that day.

Liu Hongmei looked weary, but her eyes grew brighter as she listened. She asked about the old man’s attire, epaulets, entourage, vehicle details, even the license plate number, gradually forming a rough understanding. “Who would’ve thought the Qing family had such connections.”

“Who could’ve imagined Qingyang would meet such people before he died? So I was thinking, when Lin Suifen brings Qing Huihui over, maybe we could have Huihui mention it casually. Third sister might just land a job this way.”

Liu Hongmei fell silent, seemingly studying the grain of the kang table or lost in thought. Liu Zhiqiang didn’t dare interrupt, his heart pounding—this plan of his was truly audacious, downright shameless.

“Do you think your third sister’s job is more important, or preserving this connection for greater future use?”

Liu Zhiqiang’s heart skipped a beat as sudden realization dawned. “I’ve been shortsighted.”

***

Over the next few days, to avoid complications, Qingyin made two more trips to the factory’s personnel department. She’d asked Auntie Gu to procure two packs of Peony Cigarettes from the black market, distributing them generously upon arrival—whether to section chiefs or ordinary clerks.

Her generosity paid off when Liao Kezhang gave a definitive answer: “Xiao Qing, you can rest easy and wait at home. The job is secured, but Vice Factory Director Zhang is away at a conference. Once he returns to approve, you can start working.” Without the signature of the vice director overseeing personnel and finance, wages and benefits couldn’t be finalized. For non-urgent positions, the factory’s policy was to complete all formalities before onboarding.

Qingyin smiled and discreetly slipped him a pack of China Cigarettes when no one was looking. “Wonderful! With Director Liao’s assurance, my mind is at ease.”

Liao Kezhang grinned from ear to ear—this was premium tobacco usually reserved for the Party secretary and factory director!

Qingyin’s heart ached at the expense, but it was necessary to ensure no mishaps with her employment. Even if problems arose, this gesture would ensure Liao Kezhang would tip her off in advance.

She was determined to separate households, but first needed her job officially secured. After all, publicly she was inheriting her elder brother’s position, and Lin Suifen was adept at playing the victim. Better to swallow this cooked duck whole for safety.

Exiting the personnel department, Qingyin noticed a boisterous group passing by. The center of attention looked vaguely familiar.

Gu An, wearing the security department’s uniform properly for once, looked a hundred times more impressive than his usual slovenly self—standing tall like a young poplar, conspicuously handsome among his peers.

He seemed not to notice her, discussing with colleagues which restaurant served the freshest mutton hotpot and whose donkey stew was most flavorful.

That strange feeling returned—why did this guy always seem both proper and roguish? His appearance suggested respectability, but his conversation revealed anything but a conventional lifestyle.

She couldn’t be bothered to greet him first, heading straight instead for the state-run restaurant near the district hospital.

Of course, it wasn’t to eat out but to help Auntie Gu collect her money. Last time, Auntie Gu had caught a few wild rabbits while hunting and brought them to the state-run restaurant. The head chef there was her senior apprentice brother, so at the time, seeing how busy they were serving the leaders, she didn’t bring up the payment. Later, she herself was careless and forgot about it.  

These past few days, that senior apprentice brother sent word for her to come by. Unfortunately, Auntie Gu’s leg rheumatism flared up, and Qingyin couldn’t bear to see her make the trip, so she took on the task herself.  

After all, she had nothing better to do at home.  

***  

As for Li Xiuneng, ever since Qingyin reminded him to go to the hospital, he hadn’t taken it seriously at first. He still stayed up late reading as usual. But last night, his vision suddenly blurred, and he couldn’t see anything clearly. It lasted about half an hour with no improvement, so he suspected something might be wrong with his eyes and rushed to the hospital overnight.  

The ophthalmologist examined him carefully—both the external appearance and the blood vessels in his retinas were normal. The doctor said it was likely due to eye strain from overuse and advised him to rest at home for a couple of days to observe.  

But if there was nothing wrong, why did his eyes feel dry and his vision remain blurry? He didn’t have myopia and had never suffered from any eye problems before. This unexplained decline in vision truly worried him, so he pressed the doctor to examine him again more thoroughly.  

Yet another check yielded the same result—perfectly fine.  

Suddenly, he remembered what Qingyin had said that day about getting his liver checked. “Doctor, could you please examine my liver? Could it be a liver problem?”  

The doctor studied his eyes carefully. “Your skin isn’t yellow, your sclera isn’t yellow, your urine isn’t yellow, and you don’t have spider angiomas on your hands. Why would it be a liver issue?”  

Li Xiuneng had also heard that people with liver problems might have yellowing of the eyes and skin, which was why, when Qingyin had reminded him to watch his liver, he had taken note but not seriously. His skin had always been fair, nowhere near yellow, and his urine was a perfectly normal color.  

“This test isn’t cheap. Just listen to me—go home and rest for a few days. Avoid straining your eyes, keep them closed as much as possible, and look at more greenery.”  

Li Xiuneng had initially thought the same, but then he recalled the expression on Qingyin’s face when she had said it—she hadn’t seemed to be joking at all. Considering this student was usually sparing with words and unlikely to say anything unnecessary, he suddenly grew curious. If it cost money, so be it—he’d get the blood test.  

The ophthalmologist chuckled, unable to resist his persistence, and finally wrote him the lab order.  

Meanwhile, Qingyin received eight yuan from the head chef. Auntie Gu’s rabbits had been plump, and the restaurant had offered a fair price. She tucked the money away safely, and the chef discreetly slipped her two large, scraped-clean bones, saying they were leftovers from the restaurant but could still be used to make a flavorful broth at home.  

Qingyin naturally didn’t refuse, but she had no intention of taking them back to the Qing household. She planned to deliver them directly to the Gu family—just the thing to nourish Gu’s Mother.  

As luck would have it, just as she was about to leave, she spotted a familiar figure at the hospital entrance.  

“Teacher Li?”  

Li Xiuneng turned. “Qingyin? What are you doing here?”  

“I had some business to take care of. How are you feeling? Did you get checked?” She had actually planned to visit him at school in a few days to thank him for helping with her leave of absence procedures and transferring her records, saving her a lot of trouble.

Li Xiuneng gave a helpless, bitter smile and recounted the events of the previous night. His test results had only come in this morning, and he had just taken them to the internal medicine doctor for review. To his surprise, the doctor informed him that all his liver indicators were completely normal—there wasn’t the slightest issue.

Qingyin thought to herself, *That can’t be right.* She took the results and examined them closely. Indeed, every single value was within the normal range. She then checked him again—no signs of jaundice either. *Could I have made a mistake?*  

But her grandfather had used this diagnostic method to identify many early-stage liver disease patients. Unwilling to dismiss her intuition, she asked, “May I take your pulse?”  

Li Xiuneng nodded.  

Qingyin grasped his left wrist, pressing her fingertips firmly against the radial artery at the *guan* position—  

Something was off.  

After a moment’s thought, drawing from her past life’s experience, she decided to be direct with him. Patients like him—young, optimistic, and resilient—could handle the truth. “Teacher Li, there’s likely a growth on your liver.”  

Li Xiuneng’s hand jerked. “What?”  

A *growth*? That sounded terrifying!  

“It’s probably a hemangioma. You should get an ultrasound to confirm. It’s about six centimeters in size and should be surgically removed as soon as possible to avoid the risk of rupture.” And, by extension, a life-threatening situation.  

She left out those last four words, not wanting to alarm him further.  

Even so, Li Xiuneng was thoroughly shaken. “H-how did you—how can you tell? Are you sure? The liver function tests were completely normal! How is this even—”  

Qingyin ignored his flurry of questions and instead asked whether he had experienced any bloating, abdominal pain, or discomfort in the liver region recently.  

“No, I’ve always been in excellent health.”  

That was precisely what made it so hard to believe. A man in such good condition, yet twice now, Qingyin had diagnosed him with an illness—this time claiming he had a *six-centimeter hemangioma*. Six centimeters! That was larger than an egg!  

How big was a human liver, anyway? To have a tumor the size of an egg attached to it, nestled within the cramped abdominal cavity—wasn’t that like hiding a landmine inside a gasoline tank?  

The mental image left Li Xiuneng pale.  

Qingyin explained that many diseases showed no obvious symptoms. Because he had never felt discomfort, exhibited jaundice, or had abnormal liver function, the condition had gone unnoticed. Most people would show symptoms when the growth reached two or three centimeters, but whether due to his robust constitution or sheer inattention, his had ballooned to six centimeters without detection.  

After repeatedly confirming that Qingyin wasn’t joking, Li Xiuneng decided it was better to err on the side of caution. If the tumor ruptured, it could be fatal.  

He immediately returned to the internal medicine department and requested an ultrasound. At this time, medical specialties weren’t as finely divided—anything not requiring surgery fell under internal medicine.  

Ultrasound imaging was still rare in this era, available only in select municipal or higher-level hospitals. Fortunately, the district hospital had recently acquired one, though few patients came in for the procedure.  

Li Xiuneng was soon lying on the examination table. The young doctor initially chatted casually, asking why he needed such an expensive test when he seemed perfectly healthy. But as the scan progressed, the doctor suddenly exclaimed, “Oh!”