Chapter 5

Su Ruo stole a glance at his expression, but under his solemn face, she really couldn’t read anything.

“This time… how many days will you be staying at home?”
She asked tentatively.

He seemed to be a soldier. Earlier, when she had just woken up, she vaguely heard his mother saying, “You haven’t come back for more than half a year, and now that you’re back, you…” So he must usually be stationed at the army base. She wasn’t sure if he came back this time because of her situation.

“The day after tomorrow,”
He said, “I’m leaving the evening of the day after tomorrow.”

He had taken three days off—it was already quite a lot.

Su Ruo lowered her eyes and secretly let out a breath of relief.

For some reason, she still trusted him.

Maybe it was because he was a soldier, exuding uprightness and integrity. Or maybe it was because, just now, when he spoke to her, he was respectful and rational—there wasn’t anything that made her feel uncomfortable.

His mother, on the other hand, was a complete contrast.

“If I want to apply for university, your mother…”
“I’ll go talk to her.”

What’s the use of just talking?

She might agree on the surface, but if they lived under the same roof, and she didn’t want her to succeed in taking the exam, there would be countless ways to sabotage her.

As that thought came to her, a gentle and graceful face of Lin Wanhua suddenly flashed in her mind.

She shook her head, telling herself not to panic, not to rush, to calm down and take it step by step.

She said, “Thank you. I know you mean well. But my head still really hurts, I’ll think things over again.”

He gave her a glance.

Her attitude toward him now was already much better than he had expected.

Their marriage had always been fragile—born out of her special circumstances.

Now that her situation had changed, perhaps their marriage would end too.

When he received her letter, he had rushed back, afraid that because of her strong personality and being suppressed by his mother, she might decide to separate from him… Though if she really had that thought, even his return wouldn’t stop her.

He reached out and tucked her quilt in, saying, “Alright. Then rest a bit more. I’ll go find the brigade leader and help you submit the application form first.”

Su Ruo opened her mouth—she wanted to say “there’s no rush,” but he said “apply for university,” which meant she hadn’t gotten into college before.

And the “previous version” of herself had pushed herself into this state just to apply for university—it was clearly very important to her… Of course it was important!

She already had a vague sense of what must’ve happened during those five missing years, so in the end, she didn’t say anything to stop him.

She watched as he pulled out a stack of documents from the drawer and walked out the door.

She thought to herself, whether or not this man was truly her husband, he seemed like a decent person.

He also looked pretty dependable.

But why did she marry him?

That question made her think of Yuan Chengyang.

He was her fiancé. If she was thinking about marriage, how could she not think of him?

If she really had lost five years of memory, why didn’t she end up marrying Yuan Chengyang, but instead came to this place and married this man?

After Han Zecheng left, Su Ruo didn’t go back to sleep. She got up, enduring waves of dizziness, and began checking her belongings drawer by drawer.

Fortunately, although the room’s layout was different, her habit of hiding keys remained the same.

It was in a hidden compartment inside the rightmost drawer.

Taking out the key, she unlocked the bottom drawer.

Inside were several notebooks, and among them, one with a teal-green cover was a very familiar notebook of hers.

She had developed the habit of keeping a diary since childhood.

But after once discovering that someone had tampered with her diary, she stopped writing about her feelings and emotions in it. Still, she maintained the habit of recording events—just sparsely and briefly.

For example, she would write: On such and such date, she scored certain marks in her exams, and her rank in class and grade.

Or: On her birthday, she received a certain gift from her father.

Or: On a certain day, she received the admission notice from Qingda University.

Very dry entries.

She reached out for the notebook and flipped it open, immediately seeing her own handwriting.

It was indeed her old journal. But when she turned to the latter pages—those that were blank when she fell asleep last night—she found a few new lines of writing. Just a few dates and notes.

August 1972
Dad was reported.
It was because of my background. Someone said my maternal grandparents were major capitalists overseas.
So, I wasn’t allowed to attend university.

Lin Wanhua came to talk to me. To avoid implicating my dad and younger brother, I had to be sent to the countryside for re-education.

September 1972
Su Jia took my place and went to Qingda University.
Dad said he knew I was upset, but told me not to mind, because the spot would’ve been wasted if not given to Su Jia.
He said once the storm passed, he’d find a way to bring me back from the countryside.

October 1972
The re-education placement came down.
It was a farm in Jiang County, a subordinate county in the neighboring province—Weiguo Farm in Qinghe Town.

January 1973
That woman had someone bring me some things, along with a letter.
She said Dad and the rest of the family had severed ties with me. I shouldn’t contact him anymore, since my background was bad—I might implicate him and the family.
Also, Yuan Chengyang and Su Jia were now together.
She told me not to contact Yuan Chengyang again either.

March 1973
I got married.
He’s a good man.

January 1974
Guoguo was born.
Han Zecheng named him Han Guo.
Cause and effect?

That was all—just five entries.

Only these five records to account for a five-year gap.

Su Ruo stared blankly at the notebook, momentarily overwhelmed by the shock, unsure how to react.

But maybe because these were already established facts from the past—or maybe because she had already been shaken by the revelation of losing five years of memory—although she was stunned and confused, she didn’t feel too emotional or find any of it unbelievable.

On the contrary, a sense of “Oh, so that’s how it is,” washed over her—a feeling of having something finally explained.

It cleared up the mystery of why she had ended up here.

Su Jia had taken her place at Qingda.
Her father had cut ties with her because of her background… Yes, that part she knew. Her mother had been the pampered daughter of a capitalist.

But aside from one photo, she had no memory of what her mother was like.

She had never seen her maternal grandparents or any relatives on that side.

She sat there holding the notebook for a long time, unable to fully digest those few lines.

At this moment, she really hated how she had only recorded so little in recent years—but that was her, and she understood the mindset behind those brief notes…

She didn’t know how much time had passed before she finally let out a long breath, put the notebook away, and began checking the rest of the drawer.

There were account books, money, and all kinds of ration coupons—meat tickets, cloth tickets, grain and oil tickets—everything. There was also quite a bit of money. She didn’t count exactly, but it looked like several hundred yuan, which was a lot.

She opened the ledger. Unlike the sparse diary, the account book was very detailed—every month, even every day’s income and expenses were meticulously recorded.

Flipping through the ledger gave her a glimpse into the life she had lived these past few years.

,,,,

“Ah Ma.”

Su Ruo was holding the account book, still slowly processing everything, when she heard someone calling her from behind.

She turned and saw the little boy—apparently her son—pushing open the door, standing cautiously at the entrance, watching her.

So, this really was… her son?

Su Ruo looked at the little boy who had appeared in her life after she woke up, feeling extremely complicated inside.

But perhaps it was a mother’s natural instinct… Even though her consciousness still felt like that of a teenager, still a student, when she looked at this child, she could feel a fondness for him.

“Guoguo.”

She stuffed the account book back into the drawer, forced a smile, and turned to call the boy.

Han Guo walked up to her, looked up, and asked cautiously, “Ah Ma, you’re not leaving, right? I mean, it’s okay if you leave, but you’re not going to abandon me, are you?”

Su Ruo’s heart was instantly struck.

She reached out and pulled him into her arms, saying, “Of course not. No matter where Ah Ma goes, I’ll take you with me.”

This was her son.

She had grown up without her birth mother. Her father was always busy with work. She had lived under the roof of a stepmother and stepsister. Though she had a cheerful and independent personality, always pushing herself to stay happy, she could clearly remember all those moments of confusion and fear in the dark when she was little.

She had lived such a difficult life herself—how could she let her son suffer the same? Even if she couldn’t remember those missing five years, even if the sudden existence of a son felt strange to her, she couldn’t use that as an excuse to run away from her responsibilities.

,,

“Second daughter-in-law.”

Su Ruo was holding Han Guo’s hand and talking to him when she suddenly heard a voice at the door—one that was both unfamiliar and familiar.

Unfamiliar, because she didn’t originally know this person.

Familiar, because she had heard this woman’s voice right after she woke up—it was the voice of her “husband’s” mother, her mother-in-law.

Su Ruo looked toward the door and saw the old lady she had briefly met when she first woke up.

She opened her mouth, but the word “Mom” just wouldn’t come out.

Wu Guizhi really disliked the way she was glaring at people with those big eyes.

Sure, she was pretty—but what use was it for a son to marry a pretty wife?

All they knew how to do was seduce men, do nothing, and still have men wrapped around their fingers with no regard for anyone else.

Wu Guizhi’s face was stern as she looked at Han Guo and said, “Guozi, go out for a bit. Grandma wants to have a word with your mom.”

But Han Guo didn’t move. Instead, he stood in front of Su Ruo, protectively blocking her, eyes full of wariness as he looked at Wu Guizhi.

Su Ruo was moved by the child’s reaction, her heart filled with warmth.

She gently patted Han Guo’s head and said softly, “Go out and play for a while. Mom is just going to chat with Grandma.”

Han Guo looked at Su Ruo. Seeing her smiling gently and not looking worried, he finally glanced at Wu Guizhi, pouted slightly, and left the room.

That look he gave made Wu Guizhi’s anger flare—this little brat really was just as annoying as his parents!

With her gaze pulled back from Han Guo, Su Ruo looked at Wu Guizhi and said calmly, “Mom, why don’t you sit down so we can talk?”

After reading the journal and the account book, and spending some time talking to Han Guo, she no longer felt as flustered as when she had first woken up.

At the very least, she felt confident that dealing with this mother-in-law wouldn’t be a problem.

At most, she could just stay quiet and let the woman talk.

Besides, her account book had clear records—she earned 25 yuan a month as a teacher and handed over 10 yuan to the household each month.

There were even notes stating that Han Zecheng sent an additional 25 yuan each month to Wu Guizhi—some for her living expenses, and some to cover the costs of Su Ruo and Guo Guo staying at the Han household.

She often bought groceries and other items for the family, too.

So she didn’t owe Wu Guizhi anything. No matter how much hostility the woman showed her, she had no reason to feel intimidated.