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Chapter 7 — The Beauty Trap

“You child, what trouble? Just say it straight,” Zhang Qiuyun said crisply.

“Aunt Zhang, I saw there’s a sewing machine at home. I bought some fabric today. May I use it to make clothes?” The Lin family’s sewing machine looked brand-new, as if it had never been touched.

“Of course. I’ve barely used it twice. If you can actually make clothes with it, then it’ll finally serve a purpose.” Zhang Qiuyun was quick and decisive at work, meticulous in everything she did. But when it came to household matters… she was utterly clueless.

Cooking and tidying up weren’t her strengths. Other families bought sewing machines, so she followed the trend and bought one too. After trying it once or twice, she completely gave up.

Qin Yajuan, who had been waiting to add fuel to the fire and criticize Xu Jingchu, now had nothing to say. Everything Xu Jingchu did seemed to slap her face. She not only took the initiative to sew new clothes so as not to embarrass the Lin family but also volunteered for cooking. How hardworking she looked, making others seem lazy by comparison.

Hmph! Let Xu Jingchu bask in the limelight for now—one day she would trample her underfoot.

“Dad, Mom, Jingchu even went to Xinhua Bookstore today,” Lin Tingyu added, making sure to give her credit.

“What did you go to Xinhua Bookstore for?” Zhang Qiuyun asked.

Xu Jingchu hesitated. She knew Lin Jianbai disliked his son’s obsession with studying instead of joining the army. And here she was, wanting to study herself…

But since they were living under the same roof, and she’d eventually need the Lin family’s help, she might as well be upfront now.

After thinking carefully about her wording, she said: “I went to buy practice books. Back in the countryside, I only went to elementary school. After that, my parents had me stay home to do housework and farm work. Now there’s no farm work to do, so I want to use this free time to pick up my studies again. At least I won’t be illiterate, or get shortchanged when buying vegetables.”

She had spoken the truth, but not the whole truth.

“Girls should learn a bit of knowledge,” Lin Jianbai said with unexpected approval. “Later you can work a clerical job like your aunt, something light.”

“And who are you calling light? We’re all contributing to socialism—don’t look down on anyone,” Zhang Qiuyun retorted, disliking his chauvinistic tone.

“My mistake, my mistake. Different divisions of labor in the revolution,” Jianbai quickly admitted.

Xu Jingchu was a little surprised. She had thought neither of them would support her, especially given how they treated their own son’s studying…

Unexpected indeed. Her gaze drifted to Lin Tingjun. Normally, someone like him would’ve spoken against her already. But he just sat there, silent, as if none of it concerned him.

Lin Tingjun ate quietly, watching everything unfold. His heart stirred a little, but not much. As long as his own goals were achieved, nothing else mattered.

Still, the food tonight tasted really good.

From childhood, he ate in the canteen at home. Later, in school, it was still the canteen. Other classmates often talked about missing their mother’s cooking, sometimes even bringing jars of homemade sauces or pickles.

But for him, his mother’s taste was the taste of the canteen. To have a hot homemade dinner at home—it was an unimaginable luxury.

“Jingchu, if you run into study problems, you can always ask Tingjun. He’s a college student, he should be able to help,” Zhang Qiuyun suggested.

That was exactly what Xu Jingchu had been worrying about—she didn’t know where to start with math and science. Right! With Lin Tingjun here, it would be such a waste not to ask.

“Alright, Auntie. Tingjun-ge, I’ll be troubling you then,” she said with a smile.

“I still need to study myself. I’m busy,” he replied coldly, his rejection clear. He didn’t like others disrupting his strict study schedule.

“Busier than the Premier of the country, are you?” Jianbai snapped at his son, then turned back to Jingchu with a broad smile. “Ignore him. You just ask. He eats the food you cook—he owes you answers.”

Ah, sharp as ever—the commissar could cut straight to the heart of a matter. Whatever guilt Xu Jingchu felt about bothering him instantly vanished. This was a fair trade.

“Tingjun-ge, I won’t take too much of your time,” she said earnestly. She would definitely ask him when she had problems—but only briefly.

Tingjun opened his mouth to protest again, but Jianbai’s glare shut him up.

After dinner, Qin Yajuan volunteered to clean the dishes. She had already noticed that Xu Jingchu had neatly put away all the cooking utensils, leaving just a few bowls. It wasn’t tiring.

She didn’t want to curry favor with the Lin family, but since she was eating and living here for free, and would need their help to find work later, she had to at least maintain a good impression.

And besides… she hated to admit it, but at noon she had been intimidated by Xu Jingchu. She was genuinely afraid Xu Jingchu might refuse to cook or wash for her.

Later, Zhang Qiuyun handed food stamps, meat stamps, and money to Xu Jingchu, even insisting on reimbursing her for the money and stamps she had already spent that day. Xu Jingchu couldn’t refuse and had to accept.

After she left, Jianbai smugly told his wife, “See? At first you didn’t want them here. Now, just one day later, you can see how wise my decision was.”

“Wise decision?!” Qiuyun snapped, and quickly told him about that morning’s **incident.

“Tingjun’s underwear ended up in Qin Yajuan’s bed. Luckily I was the one who saw it. Imagine if someone else had—what would they think?”

“And look at Jingchu. Sensible, mature—but her looks are far too striking. You know the saying: a good girl fears a persistent suitor. What if someone takes a liking to her while she’s out shopping one day…”

“You men are so careless. You don’t understand these worries.”

Hearing this, Jianbai also fell silent. Such rumors could spread like wildfire in the military compound. Worse, if handled poorly, even he might be implicated.

“So what do we do?” he asked his wife.

“You’d better hurry and find jobs for both girls. Best if the factory has dorms. If not, at least they’ll be out during the day instead of home alone with Tingjun,” Qiuyun said, frowning.

“What do you mean alone with Tingjun? There’s also Tingyu at home,” Jianbai corrected. She realized she had misspoken.

“The girls are old enough. If they find proper work and meet someone suitable, and start a steady relationship, then no one will gossip. Lao Lin, I understand your wish to repay a debt, but don’t drag your son into it.”

Qiuyun repeated her stance.

“What do you mean drag him into it? We agreed it was a childhood betrothal,” Jianbai argued.

“Times are different now. Look at Tingjun—does he even talk to those girls? Forced marriages don’t last.” Qiuyun tried persuading him again.

Besides, their son clearly wasn’t interested. Always brooding with a face like someone owed him millions. How could that possibly work out?

“We’ll see,” Jianbai muttered. Even he knew that Tingjun likely wouldn’t follow his wishes. Raising this son felt less like having a child and more like raising a lifelong creditor.

That night, after washing up, Xu Jingchu returned to her room and switched on the lamp to continue studying.

The room Zhang Qiuyun had arranged for her and Qin Yajuan was symmetrical—two single beds against the walls, a cabinet at the foot of each bed, and two desks side by side by the headboards.

Perfect. She and Qin Yajuan could stick to their own spaces, no need to interfere.

“Well, well, the college student is studying again!” Qin Yajuan sneered as she walked in. It wasn’t that it affected her, but she simply couldn’t stand seeing Xu Jingchu making progress—her enemy’s success stung more than her own failure.

“What are you sneering at?” Xu Jingchu lifted her face, her delicate features glowing in the warm orange light, her skin smooth like peeled egg. “No one’s stopping you from studying. Auntie even prepared a desk for you. Come on, college student, let’s study together.”

She kindly slid a few of her textbooks toward Qin Yajuan. With no way out, Qin Yajuan reluctantly flipped through them for a few minutes, then started yawning.

“You want to study, go ahead. I’m exhausted from running around all day. I’m not turning into some bookworm.” She flopped onto her bed and quickly fell asleep.

The quiet summer night was perfect for studying. Xu Jingchu happily immersed herself in the ocean of knowledge.

After a while, she felt thirsty and quietly went downstairs for a glass of water. In the moonlit living room, a tall, lean figure stood.

“Tingjun-ge, you’re getting water too?” she greeted him first. From what little she remembered of him, he was an introverted man who disliked speaking much—consistent with how he had acted these past few days.

“Mm,” Tingjun replied. His efficiency had been low today—he hadn’t even managed to get through one full chapter—and it frustrated him.

As he turned to head upstairs, his gaze accidentally fell on her: a short-sleeved blouse with shorts, revealing a pair of long, straight legs. Her hair cascaded like silk, her bright eyes gleamed, and she carried a faint, subtle fragrance.

A beauty trap.

That was all his brain could think.

His study schedule was tightly packed every day, leaving no time to tutor her. Better to warn her in advance.

“Comrade Xu Jingchu,” he said flatly, “I want to remind you—your grandfather once saved my father, and our family owes yours a debt. But I truly have no time.”

Leaving his cup behind, he went upstairs.

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