Chapter 2

Zhou Changhuai saw those pale, tender little feet and quickly turned his head away to look at Zhou Changgui, pushing his older brother around so he wouldn’t see.

Zhou Changgui, being straightforward, was convinced that Wen Jiao had attempted suicide over love and still wanted to talk her out of it, but Zhou Changhuai spoke first:
“Brother, Comrade Wen and I are both soaked through—we need to change clothes right away. I’m fine, but Comrade Wen is a woman and frail. If she catches a chill, that would be bad.”

Although Zhou Changhuai very much wanted to know what had really happened between Wen Jiao and that educated youth Yang, he didn’t want to embarrass her. He decided to ask around later.

Zhou Changgui finally realized after his brother’s reminder. “Look at me—almost delayed the important thing. We should change clothes first… but Comrade Wen looks like this, she can’t go back to the educated youth station. She should come to our house first.

“We’ll have Mom find some of Suwei’s old clothes for her to change into, and have your sister-in-law make some ginger soup to warm you both up. It may be late May, but it still gets chilly at night. Comrade Wen, can you walk?”

Wen Jiao tried to stand, but suddenly everything went black and she fainted.

The second before she collapsed, Zhou Changhuai rushed forward to catch her. “Brother, you grab the luggage. I’ll carry Comrade Wen home. Have Mom run over to Sister Cuihua’s house and ask her to come take a look at her.”

Zhou Changgui saw Zhou Changhuai pick Wen Jiao up in his arms and panicked.
“Changhuai, wait a second! You can’t just carry Comrade Wen home like that. What if someone sees you on the way? People will talk.

“Don’t forget—you came back this time for a blind date with Hu Shufen. And people already have a bad impression of Comrade Wen because of that business with Yang. If Hu Shufen hears about you carrying her like this, what if she refuses the match?”

Zhou Changhuai didn’t care. Still walking forward with Wen Jiao in his arms, he replied, “Even better. I came back precisely to refuse that marriage proposal. Brother, hurry up—we’ll take the small path. No one will see us.”

Zhou Changgui knew his younger brother was stubborn as a mule. Once he set his mind on something, nothing could change it. He could only pick up the luggage and hurry after him, silently praying no villagers would spot them, or the gossip would never end.

Wen Jiao spent the entire night dreaming.

She dreamed of the original Wen Jiao at age twenty-two, smiling and saying to her:
“Sister, please help me rewrite my fate. I don’t want to just die like this. Please live for me.”

Wen Jiao shook her head desperately. “No! What about my own life? My job? My parents are gone, I have no relatives. If I die alone in my rented room, no one will even know until the smell—

“I just moved last month. I haven’t even told my colleagues at the hospital my new address. If they can’t reach me by phone, what will they do? Will the hospital call the police? Can the police even find me?”

But the original Wen Jiao didn’t seem to hear her. She simply turned and walked into a white, endless fog.

Wen Jiao tried to run after her, but her feet wouldn’t move, as if nailed to the ground. Panicked, she could only shout:
“Wen Jiao, don’t go! Come back! Your life should be rewritten by you! Wen Jiao, you can’t leave! Hurry back! I’m not you—I just have the same name!”

She began to cry bitterly, and faintly, she heard someone calling:
“Little Jiao, wake up, Little Jiao…”

No—that voice was calling the original Wen Jiao, not her.

When Wen Jiao finally opened her eyes, Liu Cuihua let out a long sigh of relief. She ran to the doorway and called toward the kitchen:
“Aunt Qiujü, Little Jiao’s awake! Bring the brown-sugar egg drink quickly!”

Someone outside answered, “Coming right up!”

Liu Cuihua hurried back to sit at Wen Jiao’s bedside, looking at her with affection and gently scolding:
“You silly child. You thought you could fool Changgui? That Yang educated youth—well, never mind. What’s past is past.

“You’re really lucky. Imagine, running into Changhuai just when he came home on leave. It means Heaven doesn’t want you to die—you’d better treasure your life. He risked his life to save you.

“In the old days, you’d have to marry a man to repay that kind of favor!”

She covered her mouth and laughed.

From the original Wen Jiao’s memories, Wen Jiao knew that Liu Cuihua was the barefoot doctor of Lingtou Brigade, a forthright woman who treated the original Wen Jiao like a younger sister.

“Sister-in-law, I really did fall in the river by accident.” Wen Jiao looked seriously at Liu Cuihua. “Don’t worry. I’ll live well—and happily.”

“That’s more like it,” Shen Qiujü said as she came in holding the brown-sugar egg drink, picking up the conversation. “Life’s short. Look at my old man—gone at fifty. Before he died, he told me he didn’t want to go.”

“Exactly,” Liu Cuihua agreed, propping Wen Jiao up against the headboard and handing her the drink. “Uncle Zhou had it tough—suffering from that illness.”

Wen Jiao, out of professional habit, asked curiously, “What illness?”

Shen Qiujü wiped her eyes with the hem of her blouse. “Lung cancer. Terminal. Enough about that. Little Jiao, drink this while it’s hot. You had a fever all night—we were scared to death.”

Liu Cuihua nodded. “Yes, Changhuai watched over you the whole night. You kept talking nonsense in your sleep, most of it we couldn’t understand. I only caught a few phrases—‘don’t go,’ ‘come back.’

“Who were you dreaming about? Why were you saying that?”

Hearing that Zhou Changhuai stayed up with her all night moved Wen Jiao deeply. But remembering how he’d said “serving the people is my duty” left her a little disappointed. Maybe she was overthinking. Perhaps he was simply helping because he liked to help people.

When Wen Jiao didn’t answer, Shen Qiujü lightly tapped Liu Cuihua’s shoulder.
“Alright, let the girl drink first. Don’t you have to attend the banquet? Go on. Changgui and his wife already took the kids there. I’ll stay to look after her.”

Liu Cuihua quickly shot Shen Qiujü a warning glance, and only then did she realize she’d said the wrong thing.
“Little Jiao, don’t be sad. Auntie didn’t mean to bring up anything that would upset you.”

Wen Jiao, sipping her drink, hadn’t even noticed the remark at first. But when Shen Qiujü added that, she realized what day it was—

Today was the wedding banquet for that scumbag Yang Shuming and the brigade leader’s second daughter, Hu Shufang.

Setting down her bowl, Wen Jiao smiled. “Auntie, I really didn’t have a relationship with Yang. I truly fell into the river by accident. Later, I’m going to the banquet too.

“But first, I’d like to go back to the educated youth station and change clothes. Auntie, these are Sister Suwei’s clothes, right? I’ll wash them and bring them back later. I’m really grateful you all saved me.”

Shen Qiujü said, “Yes, they’re Suwei’s old clothes. No need to thank us. You don’t mind wearing them, that’s all that matters. Last night, Changhuai carried you back, and I helped my eldest daughter-in-law change your clothes.”

Only then did Wen Jiao think to ask where Zhou Changhuai was. “Brother Zhou, did he also go to the banquet?”

Liu Cuihua, quick-tongued as ever, replied, “No, he went on his blind date. You didn’t know? Changhuai came back this time just to meet Hu Shufen, the brigade leader’s eldest daughter. If it works out, they’ll be in-laws.”