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Chapter 18 – Revenge with a Bowl of Noodles

In the end, Qin Yajuan had no choice but to admit defeat.

She dropped to her knees, banging her head on the floor, tears streaming down her face. “Uncle, Auntie, I was wrong. I didn’t mean to steal. I just wanted the paper mill job too badly.”

Zhang Qiuyun stared at her in disbelief. “Yajuan, Jingchu already told me she thought I was right. She said she wants to focus on studying at home for now, not working.”

“That’s right, Yajuan-jie. I don’t want the paper mill job. I’m giving it to you, so you don’t have to frame me.”

Xu Jingchu bit hard on the words frame me. Qin Yajuan lowered her head, wiping at her tears to hide the hatred in her eyes. Fine, Xu Jingchu. You’re good. You dare to scheme against me?

Lin Jianbai and Zhang Qiuyun had watched this whole farce first thing in the morning. Both were annoyed, but they still had to rush off to work.

“Yajuan, I’ll speak to the paper mill today. You can just go through the normal recruitment process. They have dorms—if you want to stay there, fine. If you want to stay here, that’s fine too,” Lin Jianbai said impatiently.

How could such an honest, upright man like Qin Yajuan’s father have raised a daughter like her?

“Uncle Lin, I’ll stay in the dorms,” Qin Yajuan quickly answered. After what had happened, she couldn’t stay in the Lin household any longer. Besides, living in the dorm would make it easier to meet with Wang Yuejin.

“Alright, no problem.” Lin Jianbai and Zhang Qiuyun grabbed their things and headed out the door.

Seeing them leave, Qin Yajuan was about to follow, but—

“Hold it!” Xu Jingchu blocked the doorway. “What about the money and ration tickets? Don’t tell me you plan to pocket them. Until you start at the paper mill, you’ll still be eating here. Hand them over.”

Unwillingly, Qin Yajuan pulled the bundle out from a hidden pocket in her blouse. Xu Jingchu counted carefully—nothing was missing—before letting her go.

“You satisfied now?” Lin Tingjun, uncharacteristically, spoke to her. With Lin Tingyu out playing, only the two of them remained at home.

“Lin Tingjun!” Xu Jingchu snapped, refusing to call him Tingjun-ge. He didn’t deserve it. “What do you mean by that? You saw everything. It was clearly a setup against me. That was self-defense.”

“…I said the wrong thing,” Lin Tingjun admitted quickly. He really had phrased it poorly.

“Chairman Mao said, ‘To correct a mistake is a good comrade.’ I forgive you.” Xu Jingchu huffed, then leaned over his desk, pointing to his textbooks. “Now, teach me this.”

“How did you know Qin Yajuan wanted to… take things?” Lin Tingjun hesitated, avoiding the word steal—it didn’t sound right when referring to a young woman.

Xu Jingchu, however, had no qualms. “Because earlier, I noticed the buns and dumplings in the house kept disappearing. Uncle Lin and Aunt Zhang wouldn’t touch them. I know how much I eat. You and Tingyu wouldn’t sneak them. So who else?

“And Yajuan runs around outside all day. Even if she stuffs herself at breakfast and dinner, what’s she eating for lunch?”

Her reasoning was sharp and precise.

“What does she do outside all the time?” Lin Tingjun, a bookworm to the core, couldn’t understand why anyone liked loitering in the streets.

“How should I know? Ask her! Maybe busy making friends, maybe busy spreading rumors about me,” Xu Jingchu said sourly.

“You mean those people who ganged up on you the other day… Yajuan brought them?” Lin Tingjun finally pieced it together.

“I wouldn’t dare say that. I don’t have evidence.” Xu Jingchu’s tone dripped with sarcasm as she disappeared into the kitchen. Moments later, she reemerged carrying a small pot of noodles. “Didn’t have time to make breakfast, so lunch is just noodles. It’s here. Eat it or not.”

Lin Tingjun stayed quiet. He’d already put his foot in his mouth once this morning; he wasn’t about to risk a second time. Today, Xu Jingchu radiated a fierce, unshakable energy. If she turned her tricks from dealing with Qin Yajuan against him, he was finished.

“…Tingjun-ge…”

“Huh?” He blinked. Just like that, in only a short while, he was Tingjun-ge again?

“I don’t understand this problem. Can you teach me?” Xu Jingchu softened her voice, perfectly playing the part of someone asking for help.

“Of course!” Lin Tingjun nodded. After all, he’d wronged her earlier. Even though she hadn’t demanded repayment after winning their last bet, he had the decency to make amends like a gentleman.

“Tingjun-ge, how’s the noodle soup?” Xu Jingchu asked again.

“Not—” He quickly corrected himself, lowering his voice. “…Delicious.” Then, louder: “Delicious!”

“Then eat more. Don’t waste food.” Xu Jingchu gave him that “kind reminder.”

“Actually… maybe next time, a little less salt,” he suggested carefully.

“I know, I slipped this time, really. I was going to give it to Tingyu, but since you like it, you eat it. I’ll make him something else. Don’t forget to teach me later.” With that, she drifted back into the kitchen.

Lin Tingjun silently swallowed his salty noodles, chalking it up as another loss.

“Where are you stuck?” This time, his tutoring was much more patient.

The patience was there—but the teaching methods…

“This one’s obvious, the answer’s B.”

“Why?”

“No reason. B fits.”

“This one’s just like the example in the book. Same formula, just disguised. See?”

“This one…”

“Got it?” Lin Tingjun beamed, thoroughly pleased with himself. He’d finally balanced out his guilt with this act of kindness.

“…Not really.” Xu Jingchu was speechless. If not for his polite words, earnest tone, and good-natured expression, she would’ve suspected he was messing with her out of revenge for the noodles.

“How could you not get it?” Lin Tingjun was baffled. He thought he’d explained brilliantly.

“Once more.” He took a deep breath. He had misjudged her earlier. If apologizing meant he had to explain ten times, so be it.

Half an hour later…

“Now do you get it?” His warm, kind smile made Xu Jingchu hesitate to crush his confidence.

In that half hour, he’d been scratching his head, sighing, acting almost comically lively—completely unlike his usual reserved self.

“…Tingjun-ge, let’s do it like last time. You draw the key auxiliary lines and give me the formulas. I’ll figure it out with the answer.”

“…Fine.” Even the ever-persistent Lin Tingjun admitted defeat.

Meanwhile, Qin Yajuan wandered outside, only to realize she had nowhere to go. She couldn’t keep hanging out with those bell-bottom crowd anymore—if she didn’t treat them to meals, they’d talk behind her back.

Friendships built on money never lasted. And she still needed their help.

Left with no choice, she wrote to her mother, begging her to send money—just enough to last until she secured her job at the paper mill.

Today’s humiliation, she would never forget. Xu Jingchu, bask while you can. Qin Yajuan swore to herself.

Life is long. Fortune changes hands. Her day would come. She, Qin Yajuan, would rise higher and higher. And Xu Jingchu? At best, she’d end up with Lin Tingjun—living like a widow in all but name, struggling with no support, and growing old in bitter loneliness.

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