Chapter 19: What Illness? Stupid Illness!

Night soon fell, and the once noisy carriage grew quiet. The weary passengers had all drifted into slumber, and Lin Wanjun, too, dozed off with her head leaning against the train window.

With the rocking of the train, her head bumped against the glass from time to time. The jolt would wake her with a sting of pain; she would frown, rub the sore spot, shift to a new position, and quickly fall asleep again.

Unable to watch any longer, Song Zhanjin reached out and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, guiding her to lean against him instead. He adjusted her so that her head rested on his shoulder, making sure she was comfortable.

That did the trick. Lin Wanjun nestled into the warm crook of his neck and sank into a deep, peaceful sleep.

She was comfortable now, but Song Zhanjin was anything but.

The girl carried a faint, indescribable fragrance—not entirely the scent of snow cream—that kept drifting into his nose, tugging at his heart.

Her breathing was slow and steady, fanning against his skin—warm, and just a little ticklish.

Song Zhanjin was already twenty-five this year, right at the age when a man’s blood runs hot. With such a stunning beauty resting in his arms, there was no way he could remain unaffected.

Heat surged through his veins, and he actually felt a pang of regret.

On their wedding night, what on earth had he been playing at, pretending to be some righteous gentleman?

Five yuan—so what if it was five yuan? She was, after all, his lawfully wedded wife. His allowance would end up in her hands sooner or later anyway, so why hadn’t he just…

And splitting the bed? Pretending to be all high and mighty? He must have been kicked in the head by a donkey to be that stupid!

The more his mind wandered, the more restless and agitated he became. In the end, he simply closed his eyes to rest and silently began singing upright, patriotic military songs in his head.

In the middle of the night, Li Yuetang woke and opened her eyes, only to see her son and daughter-in-law leaning sweetly against each other in sleep—Song Zhanjin even had his hand clasped around Lin Wanjun’s. She couldn’t help but smile in secret.

Now that was how a newlywed couple should be—inseparable and affectionate!

She got up to use the toilet, and her husband, Song Mingcheng, who had only been feigning sleep, rose as well to accompany her. As they left, he casually set the cloth bag containing the egg pancakes on their seat.

A little girl, about eight or nine years old, crept over and reached out to take the bag. The very next second, Lin Wanjun and Song Zhanjin opened their eyes at the same time and caught the girl’s hand in unison.

“What do you think you’re doing!”

Lin Wanjun barked sharply,
“Where are your parents?”

The little girl’s hair was dry and yellowed, her body frail. Her clothes were layered with patches upon patches, and from the hollowness of her cheeks and the pallor of her lips, it was clear she suffered from malnutrition.

Caught in the act, she instantly dropped into a crouch with her hands over her head—one smooth, practiced motion, as if she had done it many times before. Then she looked up, her wide eyes filled with panic and helplessness, as though she might burst into tears at any moment.

“Forget it!”

Having just returned from the toilet, Li Yuetang caught sight of the scene and immediately softened.

“If it weren’t for desperation, who would choose to steal? The child must be starving.”

As she spoke, she began to take half of the egg pancakes from the cloth bag to give to the little girl, and motioned for Song Mingcheng to hand over fifty cents.

Song Zhanjin also reached into his pocket and pulled out one yuan, intending to slip it into the girl’s hand.

Just then, Lin Wanjun snatched the money from Song Zhanjin’s hand, grabbed Song Mingcheng’s coins as well, and even took away the food Li Yuetang was about to pass over.

“We’re all poor here—life is hard for everyone. Why should we give it to her?”

Seeing her act so sharp-tongued and stingy, Song Zhanjin felt a mix of helplessness and displeasure.

“Even so, our life is still better than hers, isn’t it? How about this—I’ll skip my meals for the rest of the trip, and she can have my share, alright?”

“No! You have to eat your share! If you go hungry, how will you take care of me? And once we get off the train, there’s still a long walk ahead—how will you have the strength to carry our things?”

Lin Wanjun was unmoved, making it clear she had no intention of playing the good Samaritan.

Li Yuetang and Song Mingcheng exchanged glances, both keeping silent.

Though their daughter-in-law seemed a bit unfeeling, she wasn’t actually in the wrong. Besides, those eggs and pancakes had originally been a gift from her elder sister.

“What’s the harm in helping such a pitiful little girl? It’s just a few yuan and a couple of eggs—do you really have to be so stingy?”

The snide, drawling reproach came from behind them—a middle-aged woman cradling a child.

The woman was plump and fair-skinned, and the boy in her arms had a sturdy, lively face. Though he wasn’t dressed in silk or satin, he wore a brand-new Dacron outfit.

Hearing this, Lin Wanjun turned her head to look straight at the woman.

“If you think she’s so pitiful, then you take care of her. Take off your new clothes and give them to her, hand over the biscuits your son’s holding, and let her spend the money in your pocket!”

The woman was struck speechless, and Lin Wanjun pressed her advantage.

“Go on, say it. Keep talking. Aren’t you the great benefactor here? Don’t you love morally blackmailing people? Just now you were going on and on like a machine gun—what, cat got your tongue now?”

The woman stomped her foot in frustration, spat out a “shrew,” and turned back to her seat. The boy in her arms kept gnawing on his biscuit, babbling “Jiejie” toward Lin Wanjun.

Song Mingcheng and Song Zhanjin were both military men, and Li Yuetang was a model supporter of the armed forces. At their core, all three had a selfless, giving nature.

All the more so because the little girl before them was so pitiful and easy to feel sorry for.

Li Yuetang and her husband held their tongues, but Song Zhanjin, young and hot-blooded, couldn’t help speaking up.

“What’s with you? Do you really have to be this sharp-tongued and mean?”

Lin Wanjun shot him a sidelong glance, her voice dripping with mocking sarcasm.

“Didn’t you ask around before marrying me? I’ve always been a sharp-tongued, mean woman. Let me tell you—regret won’t help you now. Like I said before, I’ve set my sights on the tall branch that is the Song family, and I’m not letting go!”

With that, she gave Song Zhanjin a kick on the leg.

“Move!”

Once he stood up, Lin Wanjun motioned for the little girl—still crouched on the floor—to sit down. She reached into the cloth bag and pulled out a fragrant, steaming pancake.

“Here, take it.”

The little girl clutched the pancake, swallowing hard, but instead of eating, she turned to leave.

“You sit right there and finish it in front of me, or I’ll take it back!”

At her words, the girl glanced nervously over her shoulder. After a moment’s hesitation, she seemed to steel herself and began devouring the food in big gulps.

“Slow down, no one’s going to snatch it from you.”

Lin Wanjun peeled a boiled egg for her, breaking it into small pieces before handing them over, afraid she might choke.

Two pancakes, two boiled eggs, a piece of honey cake, and half an orange—
it was hard to imagine how such a frail, skin-and-bones little girl could eat so much.

Li Yuetang’s heart ached unbearably; her eyes were on the verge of brimming over.

“Jun Jun, let’s give the child a little money,” she pleaded.

Lin Wanjun refused without the slightest hesitation.

“No.”

She turned to the little girl. “Are you getting off at the final stop too? Here’s the deal—over the next day and night, whenever you’re hungry, come to me for food.

Eat as much as you want, I’ll make sure you’re full—but nothing leaves with you.”

The little girl nodded timidly, let out a satisfied burp, and shuffled to the connection between carriages, curling up by the toilet door and quickly falling into a deep sleep.

Song Zhanjin truly didn’t know how to judge Lin Wanjun’s behavior.

Call her cold and heartless, yet she had fed the girl until she was full, peeled eggs and oranges for her, and even prepared a warm towel to wipe her mouth and face.

But call her kindhearted? She still flatly refused to give the little girl even a single cent, and wouldn’t let her take so much as a piece of pancake with her…

Her behavior was really hard to pin down!

Though he didn’t voice any further criticism, Song Zhanjin made no effort to hide his displeasure toward Lin Wanjun, his expression cold and silent. Lin Wanjun, however, had no intention of humoring his bad mood.

“Get lost! Stay away from me! Don’t go passing your illness to me!”

She shoved him, her tone sharp and unfriendly.

Song Zhanjin actually let out a laugh of disbelief—he hadn’t even gotten angry, yet she was the one making a fuss?

“Pass it to you? What illness do I have?”

Lin Wanjun’s smile didn’t reach her eyes, her voice dripping with mocking sarcasm. “Stupidity.”

It took Song Zhanjin a few seconds to register the jab. He was just about to speak when the stillness of the carriage was suddenly torn apart by a heart-wrenching cry.

He stood and looked over, only to see a man with graying hair sitting on the floor, clutching his chest. His lips had turned bluish-purple, his breathing labored. Kneeling beside him in panic was a woman—likely his wife—calling desperately for help.