Chapter 3

Wen Jiao glanced at Shen Qiujü’s embarrassed face and smiled.

She said, “Then Auntie should definitely go to the banquet—the bride is Sister Shufen’s younger sister. Brother Zhou should be going too, right?”

Shen Qiujü looked at Wen Jiao, finding her unexpectedly calm. Why did she seem so composed?
Could it be that after her brush with death, she really gave up on Yang Shuming?
Or was it true, like she said, that she and Yang Shuming were never actually together? Maybe Yang Shuming was the only one interested.
No wonder Yang Shuming married the brigade leader’s second daughter—Wen Jiao must have refused him.

Since Shen Qiujü didn’t answer, Liu Cuihua spoke up:
“Changhuai will definitely go. He’s practically the Zhou family’s son-in-law already. I bet he and Shufen will go together. They’re probably talking under the elm tree at the village entrance right now.”

Shen Qiujü added, “Yes, they’re under the elm tree. If you head back to the zhiqing dorm, you might see them, Miss Wen.”

Placing her hand on Wen Jiao’s, Liu Cuihua asked,
“Are you sure you want to attend? You had a fever last night. How are you feeling now? Why don’t you stay and rest—we’ll bring food back for you.”

Wen Jiao smiled. “I’m really fine now, Sister-in-law. Thank you both for taking care of me last night. You and Auntie go ahead to the brigade leader’s house first. I’ll stop by the dorm to change clothes and then join you.”

Seeing Wen Jiao’s color was good, Liu Cuihua nodded. “All right. We’ll save you a seat—you’ll sit with me.”

“Thank you, Sister-in-law,” Wen Jiao replied.

Leaving the Zhou house, Wen Jiao walked slowly toward the zhiqing dorm, guided by the original owner’s memories.
The dorm sat at the village entrance, opposite a large elm tree where villagers liked to gather in the evenings to cool off.

Sure enough, Wen Jiao spotted Zhou Changhuai standing under the elm with a woman.
He still wore his white-and-blue naval officer’s uniform.

Last night had been too dark for Wen Jiao to see him clearly, but now in broad daylight she finally got a good look.

Too handsome!

Zhou Changhuai had the kind of healthy, sunlit good looks with strong facial lines, a high nose bridge, sharp eyes, and a tall, upright posture—like a wild wolf of the grasslands radiating masculine energy.

Wen Jiao was puzzled. Why would such an outstanding man come home to blind date such an unattractive woman?

It wasn’t that Wen Jiao wanted to insult Hu Shufen, but honestly—Hu Shufen was dark-skinned, heavyset (at least 160 jin), and this era rarely saw someone so… “well-fed.”
Being plump was one thing, but she was also like her mother: aggressive, lazy, and arrogant, flaunting her father’s status as brigade leader. She looked down on everyone, which explained why she was still unmarried at twenty-eight.

Hu Shufen was saying, “My mother says we can marry, but our family has a few conditions.”

Wen Jiao had planned to sneak past quietly, but her curiosity got the better of her. She crouched behind a big rock to listen.

Hu Shufen continued:
“First, the engagement and wedding gifts must total no less than 200 yuan—just give us 200 all at once. You must also provide a sewing machine, a bicycle, and a wristwatch.”

“Second, after we marry, I won’t follow you to your unit. I’ll stay here in Lingtou Brigade and live at home—no moving around. My work points will still count for my family.”

“Third, every month when you get your pay, at least half must be sent to me for my use.”

What the heck? Wen Jiao thought. Is this marriage or extortion?

Zhou Changhuai’s cool voice cut through the air:
“Are you done talking?”

Hu Shufen added, “Also, my parents say since we’re from the same brigade, your family should host the banquet. Make it livelier than my sister’s—because I’m the elder sister, mine can’t be worse.”

“Hold on.” Zhou Changhuai interrupted. “Did I ever say I agreed to marry you?”

Hu Shufen froze. “What did you say? You’re refusing? If you don’t marry me, who will marry you? My mother says marrying me is a blessing for your family—”

“Pffft—” Wen Jiao, still hiding, couldn’t help laughing.

“Who’s there? Come out!” Hu Shufen shouted, eyes wide.

Wen Jiao stood up slowly and walked toward them.

Hu Shufen looked horrified, clutching her clothes. This wretched woman isn’t dead!

Wen Jiao gave Hu Shufen a disdainful glance, then turned to Zhou Changhuai with a bright smile.
“Comrade Zhou, I came to find you. I’d like to ask—would you be willing to form a revolutionary partnership with me?”

Zhou Changhuai stared at her in surprise, wondering why she suddenly said that.

Hu Shufen panicked, pointing and yelling:
“Wen Jiao, you vixen! You failed to seduce my sister’s man, so now you’re seducing mine? What’s your game?”

“Zhou Changhuai, she’s playing you! You just got back, you don’t know—everyone in the village knows she’s a fox spirit. She’s only doing this because Yang Shuming married my sister. She hates us and wants revenge!”

“She’s using you to get back at our family!”

Wen Jiao actually hadn’t thought of Yang Shuming at all. Who cares about that guy? Zhou Changhuai was far better looking—right up her alley. She openly admitted she chose men by looks.

Besides, Yang Shuming was just a zhiqing. Even if he returned to the city, he’d only be an ordinary worker.
But Zhou Changhuai was an officer. In this era, marrying a military man and living with the unit was the dream of countless girls. Wen Jiao couldn’t fathom why Hu Shufen didn’t want to follow him.

Zhou Changhuai showed no emotion, still watching Wen Jiao. He wanted to hear her explanation.

Wen Jiao smiled mockingly.
“Shufen, only your family would treat Yang the zhiqing like treasure. I’m not interested in him and never wanted to steal your sister’s man.”

“But I admit—right now, I do want to steal yours.”

“This isn’t stealing,” Zhou Changhuai said suddenly.

Wen Jiao looked at him with interest.

Zhou Changhuai gazed straight at her and said softly,
“You’re not stealing her man—because I’m not her man. I came back to refuse this marriage, not accept it.”

The more Wen Jiao looked at him, the more she liked him. A man who actually speaks his mind—rare find! She hurried to make herself clear:
“Comrade Zhou, I know you might not believe me. The villagers think I’m with Yang Shuming.”

“But I swear to heaven, I’ve never been with him—not in the past, and never in the future. If I’m lying, may lightning strike me dead!”

“I believe you,” Zhou Changhuai said calmly. After so many years in the army, he could tell from her eyes she meant it. Even if she had felt a little affection for Yang Shuming, that would be normal—after all, they were all zhiqing living and working together in the countryside.

“So,” Wen Jiao pressed on, “would you consider forming a revolutionary partnership with me?”