Chapter 13: The Hunger Makeup

He had originally gone to the Song and Dance Troupe to visit his sister, Leng Mei. Upon leaving, he happened to see Chen Siyu dashing wildly along the road.

He didn’t even know what came over him; it was purely instinctual as he picked up his pace and followed. By the second stop, he had already boarded the same bus.

The bus creaked and swayed, meandering around to pick up passengers, taking a full forty minutes to reach their destination.

Leng Jun sat silently behind Chen Siyu, watching her sniff her clothes, watching her silly smile, until she got off the bus. He followed her with his gaze as she entered the courtyard gate, and only then did he suddenly realize — she probably had long forgotten about this “big brother” of hers. Why was he even following her?

But, at 9 PM, after eleven full bus stops, such a delicate and young girl, what if — just like his sister once was — she got dragged into the shadows by some nameless evil hand? Wouldn’t her life be ruined?

So Leng Jun convinced himself that what he was doing was the right thing.

He still had overtime work to do. The bus was too slow, crawling like a snail. Leng Jun decided not to take it back. He checked his pocket watch, timed himself, and within fifteen minutes, he had already run back to his unit.

Even after returning to his unit, he felt as though something had been left unfinished. After pondering for a while, he wrote a letter to the Ideological Committee, pushing them for a final resolution regarding the complaint filed against Chen Siyu.

What he didn’t know was — if not for his letter, Feng Hui could have pulled a few strings, secured a medical leave, and kept Chen Nianqin in North City under the pretext of recuperating. She could then slowly work on getting her transferred to a closer art troupe in cities like Jinshi or Shencheng — places with better conditions, closer to North City, making it easier to eventually transfer her back.

But because of his letter, the Ideological Committee issued an immediate directive to the troupe the very next day — and the destination was indeed Haijiao Island.

That very day, Chen Nianqin was forced to set off to the godforsaken remote island she so despised.

Even as the train departed, she was still shouting, “Mom, you must pull strings quickly and get me transferred back soon!”

—

The next morning, Chen Siyu made two soft wheat pancakes, wrapping the braised pork belly inside. The greasy, savory pork carried a hint of sweetness, soaking into the soft, chewy pancakes, making each bite irresistibly delicious.

After eating, she carefully wiped her younger brother’s mouth with a handkerchief, inspected his teeth for leftover meat scraps, dressed him in a brand new green outfit, put on his new rubber shoes, and when she saw how ridiculously handsome he looked — upgraded by eight degrees — she reminded him of the chores and cleaning tasks he had to complete that day.

Only after all this did she dash off to work in a hurry.

Finally, after three days of hard work, all the stage costumes had been washed. Then Director Ding assigned the two of them a new task: dismantling and washing the stage curtains.

Looking up at the towering, thick curtains, Ma Manman was dumbfounded, “When on earth are we going to get into the practice studio?”

Chen Siyu massaged her forehead, “Labor is glorious. Minor injuries don’t take you off the front lines. Let’s get to work.”

At noon, today’s lunch was a single chicken wing per person. Chen Siyu still didn’t eat hers, wrapping it carefully in oil paper.

After work, she went to the practice room for her routine, then sneaked into the makeup room to give herself dark under-eye circles and a sallow complexion — the so-called “hunger makeup.” Step by faltering step, she tottered downstairs, catching Director Ding’s astonished gaze, before getting on the bus and riding back to the Ink Factory under the pitiful eyes of all the other passengers.

At first glance, Chen Xuan’ang was scared silly: “Sister, are you sick?!” She looked like she was on the verge of death.

Right in front of him, Chen Siyu wiped off the foundation and giggled, “What do you think?”

“You… you scared the life out of me.” Chen Xuan’ang plopped onto the bench.

This mischievous, unpredictable sister of his always did things he couldn’t figure out.

—

The next day, with the makeup products provided by the troupe, Chen Siyu left home again with a sallow face. This time, Director Guo noticed: “Siyu, you’ve only been working a few days, and you’re already working yourself sick?”

Chen Siyu clutched her stomach, lowered her voice, “Please, Uncle Guo, don’t say such things out loud.”

“No way! You need to get a medical check-up.” Director Guo was almost frantic, “Our troupe finally has a promising young talent. I won’t allow you to be kept offstage because of illness.”

“I can’t, really can’t. I haven’t even received my first paycheck yet. Xuan’ang’s money is all going to treat the living White-Haired Girl. I can endure, I… can… endure!” Chen Siyu said, supporting herself against the wall, staggering as she walked away.

Director Guo was moved to tears and snot by her indomitable spirit and determination.

—

Back at the troupe, her “hunger makeup” achieved its intended effect. Originally, Director Ding had planned to assign her and Ma Manman to clean the dance troupe’s dormitory, but after seeing Chen Siyu’s ghastly complexion, he only assigned them to clean the makeup stations instead.

“Siyu, you must be seriously ill. I’ll do the cleaning, you just rest.” Finally entering the practice studio, Ma Manman didn’t even have the heart to watch the performers rehearse.

She added, “What kind of White-Haired Girl is she anyway? Just to save money for her, you won’t even see a doctor.”

Maomu, originally a wet nurse in a wealthy old society household, had been pushed into the role of the White-Haired Girl by circumstances. During the monthly grievance meetings organized by the Ideological Committee, she was the representative of the suffering masses, going on stage to share her tales of hardship.

Thus, the entire city knew who she was.

If Chen Siyu wanted to “rescue” Xuan’ang from her clutches, she needed to craft for herself a persona robust enough to justify it.

“Maomu’s life is truly tragic…” she elaborated on how Maomu had been raped by a local tyrant, had her child stolen, and her husband beaten to death, then asked rhetorically, “Manman, we’ve got money and food, shouldn’t we save it for her?”

“Yes, yes, yes, here—my beef meatballs are yours,” Ma Manman replied.

She was a bit plump and needed to watch her weight if she wanted to perform on stage, so Chen Siyu accepted the offer without hesitation.

The next morning, her breakfast had six extra handmade, springy beef meatballs. She had brought a lunchbox that day and packed them all up.

But what caught Chen Siyu off guard was what she overheard in the restroom: Director Ding speaking to someone, saying, “Ma Manman’s in good health, she’ll be transferred to Jin City. Chen Siyu’s health is too poor, so for now, she’ll stay in our troupe to recover.”

So, it turns out they were both like piglets waiting to be sold, but since she was too weak, she was temporarily left behind.

Chen Siyu felt a twinge of sadness for Ma Manman but also realized how shameless she herself was being.

Surprisingly, when Ma Manman found out, she was overjoyed. She was originally from Jin City and had long wanted to be transferred back home.

During these times, people’s sympathy knew no bounds—something Chen Siyu hadn’t fully anticipated. As for the issue of rent, it turned out to be a thousand times easier than she’d imagined!

Clutching her beef meatballs, she staggered toward the alley entrance, only to see Director Guo standing there, hands behind his back, worry etched on his face. Accountant Qiao Guiyun was also present. Upon seeing her, Qiao exclaimed, “This child is definitely ill!”

“Child, here are Xuan’ang’s ration tickets. Go buy something to eat,” Qiao Guiyun handed her a stack of tickets.

Director Guo added, “Hurry up and take them. Stop eating that substitute milk powder and get yourself some real formula to nourish yourself.”

Chen Siyu took the tickets, but of course, she couldn’t shed tears—her foundation would come off.

Looking up at the sky, she said, “Thank you, dear leaders, for allowing me to eat my fill before I die.”

Even though Chen Xuan’ang knew his sister was pretending, his eyes still welled up with tears. As for the factory staff, they were completely overwhelmed. Chen Siyu’s father was a war hero—how could his child starve to death in the new society? That would be a travesty!

“What illness is it? Uncle will pay for it—let’s get you to a hospital.” Director Guo was beside himself with worry. Qiao, the accountant, chimed in, “Go to the city hospital. My husband works there. He can get you a free check-up.”

But if Chen Siyu really went to the hospital, her act would be exposed.

Waving her hand, she said, “I was born amidst artillery fire. It’s an illness from the womb. It can only be nurtured, not treated.”

Everyone exchanged glances, feeling even more sympathetic. So, this child, born under the rain of bullets, was inherently frail. Back when she lived in the military district, she had access to refined grains and real milk powder, which kept her nourished. But once she moved to a poor household, hunger had triggered her latent illness.

The leaders shared a determined look and walked into the second courtyard.

Meanwhile, pressed against a corner wall, Chen Xuan’ang overheard Director Qiao saying, “Factory Director, Maomu is pitiful, but she still has two sons. It’s not right to let Xuan’ang shoulder everything alone. His rent should go toward his sister’s medical treatment.”

Director Guo agreed, “Even if they can’t cover a whole year, at least let the child’s rent for one month be used for his sister’s treatment. We can’t just stand by and watch a young star of the art troupe die in front of us.”

Chen Xuan’ang, heart pounding, tiptoed back to their room, only to see his sister lying on the bed, clutching a lunchbox. When he lifted the lid, he saw six plump, round beef meatballs.

With a click, he shut the lunchbox and knelt by the bed, silently mourning with Chen Siyu.

Before long, footsteps approached—the factory leadership had collectively arrived.

Accountant Qiao took out 30 yuan. “This is an advance on your rent. Use it for medical treatment first. As for the rest…”

Of course, Chen Siyu wasn’t about to settle for just this little bit. Struggling to sit up, she said, “As long as I can stay with Xuan’ang one more day, I am grateful to the leaders for allowing me to take care of him for one more month.”

With the child saying such heartfelt words, how could the leadership not respond?

Director Gao made the decision on the spot: “Director Guo, go tell Maomu that from now on, Xuan’ang’s rent will go toward his sister’s medical treatment. If she needs money to treat her illness, she should ask her two sons.”

Director Guo added, “Hurry and thank the leaders.”

Chen Siyu slowly sat up. Not only did she thank them, but she also made a declaration: “Director, although I’m taking this month’s rent, I can’t take it for nothing. I will do my best to save a portion to give to Maomu.”

This level of moral awareness left everyone feeling ashamed, moving the men to silence and the women to tears.