Chapter 3: About Shen Sanqian

Early on a Sunday morning, Jiang Wanwan ran out of the house without eating, grabbing two eggs from the kitchen on her way to He Qingqing’s.

He Qingqing’s parents were low-level factory workers, and they were not only sexist, but also a bit snobbish. It was said that He Qingqing’s old friends had all been driven away by her parents’ constant mockery. The only reason they were polite to Jiang Huiwan was that her mother, Jiang Lan, was the factory’s accountant.

The average factory workers lived in shared dormitories, but the Xu family’s small courtyard was a benefit of Xu Weishan’s high-ranking engineer position. The even more senior engineers and factory leaders lived in little Western-style villas at the back of the complex.

Jiang Wanwan didn’t want to deal with He Qingqing’s parents, so she didn’t go upstairs. Instead, she stood below, calling for her friend until she saw He Qingqing waving from the balcony. Jiang Wanwan then sat on the steps, leisurely eating her boiled eggs and savoring the memory of yesterday’s roast chicken. Just as she finished the two eggs, He Qingqing ran down to join her.

“Why are you here to see me today? Your mom is letting you out?” the young girl with two braids asked. Her face was only moderately pretty. Jiang Wanwan compared her to the He Qingqing from her memories. Sure enough, the He Qingqing in Jiang Huiwan’s memories was much prettier, as if she had a filter from a friendship halo.

“My mom wants me to grow moldy in the house before I’m sent to the countryside, so there’s no way she’d let me out,” Jiang Wanwan said, rolling her eyes and standing up to pat the dust off her pants. “I figured you’d be off today, so I came to ask you something.”

He Qingqing paused, feeling that her friend seemed different. “What is it?” she asked.

Jiang Wanwan looked around. Several old women were washing clothes at a nearby basin, whispering and looking their way. “Come on, let’s find somewhere quiet to talk,” she said.

Between the factory complex and the elementary school was an empty lot with a few rusty pull-up bars, charmingly known as the school’s playground. Jiang Wanwan led He Qingqing there and looked around again. Perfect. Besides a few kids lying on the ground at the edge of the field, there was no one else around.

Leaning against a bar, she sighed and began her performance. “Qingqing, do you feel like I’m different than usual?”

He Qingqing hesitated and then nodded. “Yes,” she said.

“It’s because of the illness I had a few days ago,” Jiang Wanwan said, her voice filled with drama. “When I had a fever, I had a dream. I dreamt I was sent to the countryside. I worked tirelessly but was always starving. I suffered from heatstroke in the summer and my hands and feet were chapped from the cold in the winter. In the end, I was set up, forced to marry some low-life from the countryside, and was beaten day and night until I died.”

Jiang Wanwan’s half-truths were delivered with tear-filled eyes, as if the images she described were right in front of her. “I know you’ll say it was just a dream, but it felt so real, so real that I’ve lost all the courage to go to the countryside.”

“Then… what are you going to do? Didn’t you already sign up at the office?” He Qingqing asked, staring at her friend in surprise, unable to understand how a dream could terrify someone so much.

“What can a fresh graduate like me do? You know my mom; there’s no way she’ll help me,” Jiang Wanwan said, and the tears finally began to fall. The performance was tragic and pitiful. “I’ve been thinking, if I have to marry a hooligan, I’d rather marry that Shen Sanqian…”

…instead!”

“What?!” He Qingqing gasped, nearly jumping. Realizing their conversation was not for public ears, she looked around and lowered her voice, her tone a mix of anger and disappointment. “Have you lost your mind? Even if you don’t want to go to the countryside, you can’t marry him!”

He Qingqing’s shocked reaction made Jiang Wanwan forget the lines she had prepared. “He… at least he has a factory director for a dad, and he’s willing to give me candy and buy me a roast chicken. It’s better than suffering in the countryside and getting beaten by some rural thug, right?”

He Qingqing’s expression became even harder to read. “You think you won’t get beaten if you marry Shen Sanqian?! Have you forgotten the time he kicked his stepsister so hard she flew? Or that other time, in the middle of winter, he nearly froze his step-cousin to death after strangling her and throwing her out of the house? If he beats his sisters, what makes you think he won’t beat his wife?”

“And even if his dad is the director, look at the way he is now. He’s supposedly working in the factory’s sales department, but he just wanders around all day, doing nothing. Once Director Shen retires, his good life is over…”

Jiang Wanwan was stunned. These things weren’t in her memories. Just as He Qingqing was about to continue, a little boy ran over, yelling, “Second sister! Second sister! Mom says to come home and do the laundry!”

He Qingqing instinctively started to run home, but then she remembered Jiang Wanwan and turned back to her. “My brother’s calling for me. I have to go.”

“Go on, hurry home. I’ll stay here and think about things a little more,” Jiang Wanwan said quickly.

“You definitely should!” He Qingqing nodded, giving Jiang Wanwan a look that said, you must be crazy, before leaving.

Once the siblings were out of sight, Jiang Wanwan wiped her tears away and her expression instantly returned to normal as she began to ponder the matter. She had come here specifically to ask about Shen Sanqian. Jiang Huiwan’s memories of him were limited to him blocking her path, giving her things, whistling at her, and hearing her mother and neighbors like Aunt Zhang call him a hoodlum. She had very few details about his specific actions. Everyone called him Shen Sanqian, but the honest and naive Jiang Huiwan didn’t even know his real name. Wait, that’s not right. She remembered a time when one of his followers called him “Brother Jun.” So his name was Shen Jun?

That wasn’t the main point, though. The main point was that this Shen Sanqian was much worse than she had imagined. She had planned to be a heartbreaker and use his feelings to her advantage. But if he was this bad, she could end up with a stalker or worse.

But was Shen Sanqian really that bad? The show said he ultimately sacrificed himself to protect the factory’s property. Could a selfless hero like that be a bad guy?

“What are you thinking about?” a voice suddenly asked from beside her.

“Thinking about Shen…” Jiang Wanwan instinctively replied, the name almost slipping out. But she caught herself just in time. She spun her head and found the young man looking at her with a look of surprise before a smile spread across his face.

“Thinking about Shen what? Me? Why are you so lost in thought?”

Jiang Wanwan was so dazed by his face that she instinctively took a step back. “I’m not…” She stopped herself mid-sentence. She was supposed to be a heartbreaker; she had to use his feelings. There was no time to waste; she had to be proactive.

“Do you like me?” With no experience in such matters, Jiang Wanwan went straight for a blunt question.

“If I didn’t like you, would I be blocking your path every day? Would I be giving you milk candy, cookies, chocolate, and half a roast chicken? Do I have money to burn?” The young man…

…grinned, answering her questions without a hint of shyness. He was nothing like the boys who had confessed to Jiang Wanwan in her past life.

“Then… can you help me get my name removed from the countryside program list?” Jiang Wanwan asked, her voice wavering. She couldn’t feel any signs of genuine affection from the young man in front of her.

“What’s in it for me?” Shen Sanqian didn’t wait for her to answer. “My feelings for you and helping you out are two different things. Just because I like you doesn’t mean I have to take a loss, especially for something so against the rules.”

Jiang Wanwan realized that his directness meant he could actually get her name removed. “What do you want, then?”

The young man put one hand on his hip and stroked his forehead, as if seriously considering her question. Then his eyes lit up, and he clapped his hands together. “How about this? I’ll get your name removed and find you a job, and you marry me.”

Jiang Wanwan’s jaw dropped. “No, no, that won’t work. I’m not old enough to get a marriage license yet. Besides, we’re practically strangers! How could we possibly get married right away?”

“Then let’s date for a year and get a license then,” the young man said, still smiling as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

Jiang Wanwan was so anxious she started biting her finger. Then she remembered something and looked up, her expression serious. “You don’t hit people, do you?”

She felt her question was too abrupt, so she quickly added, “People say you kicked your stepsister and choked your stepsister, and that you have a violent temper and will definitely hit your wife later.”

The smile on his face faded slightly. “They deserved it. You haven’t provoked me, so why would I hit you?”

Jiang Wanwan’s eyes widened a little. His standards for hitting people were a bit blurry. What did he consider “provoking” him? She imagined a scene from a TV show: A man wants a drink, and his wife tells him to drink less. He turns around and slaps her, screaming, “Don’t provoke me!” Another scene: a man gambles away all the family’s money, and his wife begs him to stop. He turns and slaps her, yelling, “I told you not to provoke me!” Another scene: a woman lies in a pool of blood, and the man, handcuffed by the police, defiantly says, “It’s her fault for provoking me!”

Scene after scene of abuse flashed through Jiang Wanwan’s mind, and the young man in front of her suddenly seemed like a potentially dangerous villain waiting to strike.

Shen Sanqian watched the strange expression on the girl’s face and struggled to keep his own smile from slipping. “Look,” he said, clearing his throat. “Tian Mei—that’s my stepmom’s older daughter—was sleeping in my bed in the middle of the night wearing only her vest. When I threw her out, she threatened to tell people I was a pervert, so I hit her. And Tian Li? She always used to pinch my little sister when no one was looking, so I gave her a taste of her own medicine.” Shen Sanqian didn’t care about revealing his family’s dirty laundry; he just wanted to explain everything. “See? I only hit people who deserve it. Even my stepmom, who talks bad about me all the time, I haven’t hit her. So there’s no way I would ever hit my wife.”

Jiang Wanwan looked at him, bit her lip, and said, “I’ll date you for one year. We won’t know what will happen in the future, but for this year, we can hold hands, and you can’t take advantage of me. If I don’t marry you after one year, I’ll pay you 500 yuan to cover the cost of the job. Deal?”

The young man looked at her steadily, grinning like a weasel who had just stolen a chicken. “Deal. What’s not to like about that?”