Chapter 21

Zhang Hongxing had just graduated from elementary school and was now waiting at home for the junior high school admission notice.

The summer was long and hot, but that had nothing to do with Zhang Hongying. She had never enjoyed a leisurely summer break in her life. She either worked with her parents or followed Zhang Hongxing around cleaning up his messes.

Zhang Hongxing spent every day swimming with a group of classmates. In the water town where they lived, rivers crisscrossed the land. A bunch of teenage boys splashed around in the water, roaming wherever they pleased.

At this time, chemical fertilizers and pesticides hadn’t yet become widespread. To enrich their fields, farmers would row small boats out to scoop up river mud (pronounced lǎn).

This riverbed sludge mostly consisted of decayed leaves, weeds, and sometimes dead fish and shrimp. In short, anything that could rot would eventually turn into this muddy silt, which was quite beneficial for farming.

The farmers were incredibly hardworking. Even if it only boosted production by 5%, they would pour in 100% of their effort.

Because of this constant scooping, the rivers were now exceptionally clear. You couldn’t even see a blade of water grass at the bottom.

Nowadays, you often hear of people drowning while swimming in the wild after getting their legs tangled in weeds. But there was no such danger here.

If you saw water plants here, it was because someone was deliberately cultivating them.

In this water town, not only were fields distributed to each household, but even the waterways were divided among families. The aquatic grass—called “Dongyang Grass”—was said to have been brought over by the Japanese during their occupation to feed their warhorses.

When this grass grew in the fields, everyone hated it. It rooted and spread rapidly. Even a thumb-sized piece left behind could spread across the whole field in a matter of days. Within two weeks, the entire field could be overtaken.

It was also extremely hard to pull out. If you left even a tiny root fragment behind, it would soon sprout again.

But in water, it was a different story. Its fast propagation was an asset. When there wasn’t time to cut regular forage, people would scoop some Dongyang Grass from their section of the river to feed their goats—it was enough to last them through the night.

That’s why everyone kept a close eye on their allocated river areas. As long as you didn’t mess with someone else’s cultivated water plants, nothing would happen.

Thinking of the nearby Grand Canal, Zhang Hongying shouted to Li Xiaofang:
“Mom, you need to keep an eye on Hongxing! He’s always out swimming. It’s fine in the small rivers, but if he runs off to the Grand Canal, that could be dangerous.”

Waterway transportation was highly developed now. The hum of engine-powered boats continued all night. People traveled more by boat than by car.

There was even a night ferry between Suzhou and Hangzhou called the “Suzhou-Hangzhou Line.” In her previous life, Zhang Hongying would often hear it whistling as she returned from work. That deep, mournful horn stirred her longing.

How wonderful it would’ve been to visit Suzhou or Hangzhou someday.

But she had worked hard her whole life, and even when her son worked in Suzhou, she never managed to visit him there.

Zhang Hongying’s warning to Li Xiaofang wasn’t entirely out of concern.

Zhang Hongxing was the reckless type. In her past life, he had snuck off to play in the Grand Canal, and when he surfaced, he was nearly hit by a boat. He came home in shock, and Zhang Hongying got severely scolded for not keeping an eye on her brother.

How could a teenage girl possibly guard her little brother in the water?

After that scare, Zhang Hongxing did mellow out for a while.

But sometimes Zhang Hongying wondered—what if her real little brother’s soul had been scared away and what came back was some drowned ghost? Otherwise, how did that sweet boy who used to follow her around like a puppy grow up into such a leech?

Now that she had warned Li Xiaofang, if anything happened to Zhang Hongxing again, it wouldn’t be her fault.

There were two possible outcomes: either Zhang Hongxing became rebellious and did the opposite of what he was told—went to the Grand Canal, got scared half to death or even drowned. Whatever happened, it wouldn’t be her responsibility.

Or, he’d be kept in check and never went swimming there again. His personality might not change drastically then—maybe he wouldn’t become so accomplished later in life, but at least he wouldn’t turn into a heartless vampire.

If he never went to Suzhou, he wouldn’t have bought a house there. And he wouldn’t have drained the entire family’s finances in one blow.

Zhang Hongying could still remember the whole family tightening their belts to pay off his debts.

Even Shen Yongjian had to suffer. He thought he was marrying into a well-off family but ended up as a blood donor. That debt took the whole family seven or eight years to pay off.

Over two hundred thousand yuan for a house! In the early 1990s, that was jaw-dropping. Even city folks would struggle to come up with that kind of money.

But anyway, Zhang Hongying had already said her piece. After a quick breakfast, she called Shen Jianzhen and went into town together.

They had been helping out with a small canteen for a month. It wasn’t anything fancy—maybe an extra poached egg here and there, or a bit of shredded pork in their stir-fried pickles. But even that little improvement had made Shen Jianzhen’s complexion noticeably better.

She no longer looked sickly pale with yellow-tinged skin. Although she was still thin and dark-skinned, at least there was some healthy color on her cheeks now. Before, even her lips were pale.

Zhang Hongying teased her, “So, where are you hiding your 250 yuan?”

Shen Jianzhen replied, “In my schoolbag. No one would think to go through it.”

True. If she hadn’t needed a hiding spot for the money, she probably wouldn’t have known where her schoolbag even was.

Zhang Hongying looked at her with envy. “I really admire you—so good at studying.”

Shen Jianzhen sighed. “Because that’s all I know how to do. You wouldn’t believe it—except for my homeroom teacher who encouraged me to keep studying, every single person told my dad to stop wasting money on me.”

She went on and on, sharing her struggles.

Her family was poor. All the money from selling grain or silkworm cocoons went straight to the hospital. When it came time to pay for tuition, books, or living expenses, they never had enough.

Shen Dalin had to take her to their relatives to borrow money. Every time, they were scolded before getting any help.

People would say, “Why let a girl keep studying, and even borrow money for it?”

Only after enduring a lengthy lecture would they get a measly ten yuan or so.

Zhang Hongying finally understood why Shen Jianzhen had teared up when she offered to lend her money.

And to be fair, she could understand those relatives too. After all, they did lend the money.

Shen Jianzhen wasn’t going to school for just one or two years. And back then, getting into college was like finding a needle in a haystack. College students were called “Heaven’s Favorites” because once you got in, a good job and future were practically guaranteed.

Lending money to a relative’s child to chase an uncertain future? No wonder they weren’t thrilled.

Those relatives probably thought they were doing Shen Dalin a favor by advising him to stop.

If they’d sent Shen Jianzhen to work, even if she earned only 50 yuan a month, it would still help the family. But sending her to school cost more every month instead.

“But now things are looking up,” Shen Jianzhen said with a stuffy nose. “I’ve earned enough for my first year’s living expenses. I’ll help you every winter and summer break from now on. Please say good things about me to Master Wang.”

“I’ll never forget what you’ve done for me.”

She looked at Zhang Hongying and added, “The five yuan you lent me each week—I still can’t repay you openly or my dad will find out you’ve been paying me.

So I’ll have to let him repay it first. But once summer’s over, I’ll figure out a way to make it proper and return the money to you myself.”

Zhang Hongying didn’t care much about the five yuan. But she did care whether Shen Jianzhen had a conscience or planned to take advantage of her.

When she heard this, Zhang Hongying smiled. “It’s not about the money between us. We’ve got a long road ahead. I help you now, and maybe you’ll help me someday. Just remember the kindness, and that’s enough.”

Shen Jianzhen nodded firmly.