Chapter 11

“Aren’t you going to sit by the fire with us?” San Gouzi asked Qin Jiashu.

Qin Jiashu shook his head. He wanted to go home and be with his aunt, watching her knit him a sweater.

“I’ll bring you walnut pastries tomorrow,” Qin Jiashu whispered before leaving.

“Walnut pastries …” San Gouzi’s mouth watered uncontrollably.

He had never tasted them, but he had seen Qin Tiesheng, the brigade leader’s son, eating them. When crumbs fell to the ground, San Gouzi would secretly pick them up. Even those tiny fragments had left him craving more for days.

“Okay, I’m going now,” Qin Jiashu said with a tight-lipped smile, crouching low as he crawled out of the small mountain cave.

San Gouzi and Jie Di remained huddled inside, tending the fire. San Gouzi periodically broke off small branches and fed them into the flames to keep the fire burning.

As Qin Jiashu secretly made his way down the mountain toward home, heavy, goose-feather-like snowflakes began to fall again.

The little boy followed his own footprints back, step by step. By the time he reached home, a thin layer of snow covered his head, his ears and hands were bright red with cold, and his pants and shoes were soaked.

“Aunt…” Qin Jiashu quietly pushed open the door and called out softly from the doorway.

Xu Jiaojiao, who was sitting on the bed knitting small mittens, looked up at the sound of his voice.

Qin Jiashu stood timidly at the doorway, avoiding eye contact with Xu Jiaojiao, his guilt evident.

“Xiao Shu, you’re back? Was it cold outside?” Xu Jiaojiao asked gently, throwing back the quilt and getting out of bed.

“Not cold,” Qin Jiashu replied stiffly.

“Not cold? Your little face is frozen white!” Xu Jiaojiao pulled him into the room, brushing the snowflakes from his hair.

Sensing Xu Jiaojiao’s lack of anger, Qin Jiashu relaxed and looked up at her, instinctively touching his chilly head and flashing her a coaxing smile.

Xu Jiaojiao tapped his forehead. “Quick, take off those wet pants and shoes.”

A child his age shouldn’t be wearing wet clothes in this freezing weather. He’ll catch a cold for sure.

Though her tone was stern, Xu Jiaojiao bent down to help him undress. Once he was changed, she scooped him up and tucked him into bed, wrapping him warmly in the quilt.

Qin Jiashu grinned, sitting happily on the bed in his dry clothes, cradling the mug of hot water his aunt had poured.

“Hold the mug to warm your hands, and be careful not to spill the water on the bed,” Xu Jiaojiao cautioned.

“Okay,” Qin Jiashu replied obediently, blowing on the water before taking small, careful sips.

Though it was just plain boiled water, Qin Jiashu thought it tasted especially sweet.

Snow fell steadily outside all morning, the wind howling through the trees.

Xu Jiaojiao simply boiled some potatoes and made potato cakes for lunch. While they ate, she hung Qin Jiashu’s pants and clothes on the firewood above the chimney to dry.

Qin Jiashu was forced to eat on the bed. Since the potato cakes weren’t messy, he carefully ate while lying on his stomach at the edge of the bed, managing not to stain the sheets.

The little guy enthusiastically finished the potato cakes Xu Jiaojiao had made for him, his tummy round and full.

After lunch, Xu Jiaojiao and Qin Jiashu retreated to the bed again. The child stared blankly into space while Xu Jiaojiao focused on knitting a small glove.

With the snow falling outside, there was nothing to do indoors except prepare meals and use the restroom. Xu Jiaojiao concentrated on knitting, quickly finishing one glove.

“Here, try it on,” she said.

Qin Jiashu leaned against Xu Jiaojiao as she pulled his little hand into the glove.

“It fits perfectly,” she said, gently squeezing his gloved hand. She felt a surge of accomplishment.

This was her first time knitting gloves. Before entering the book, she had knitted sweaters and done small crafts, but she had only ever made simple scarves and hats.

“Do you like it?” Xu Jiaojiao asked after examining it.

“Like,” Qin Jiashu replied, staring dazedly at his gloved right hand, his expression a mix of wonder and confusion.

The fully enclosed little glove, knitted with blue and yellow yarn, was both adorable and warm.

“Aunt has gotten the hang of it now,” Xu Jiaojiao said confidently. “I should be able to finish the other glove today.”

Earlier that morning, when Qin Jiashu had gone out, Xu Jiaojiao had been knitting the little gloves. She had to stop every few stitches to measure the size, which slowed her down.

“Mm!”

“Isn’t Aunt amazing?” Xu Jiaojiao asked, seeing the child’s unwavering belief. She cupped Qin Jiashu’s face in her hands, eager for praise.

“A-mazing,” Qin Jiashu mumbled, his words muffled as his cheeks were gently squeezed.

Satisfied with the compliment, Xu Jiaojiao released the child and resumed knitting.

Qin Jiashu sat beside her, watching her work. Occasionally, his gaze would drift to his gloved right hand, and he would quietly touch it.

Xu Jiaojiao noticed his actions but didn’t tease him. Instead, she asked if he was bored.

“No,” Qin Jiashu replied. Despite being just over three years old, he was quite accustomed to passing the time.

“In that case, Aunt will teach you how to play cat’s cradle,” Xu Jiaojiao said, snipping a length of blue yarn and tying a knot.

Xu Jiaojiao only knew a few cat’s cradle patterns, and she had even forgotten some of them. But what she did know was enough to keep Qin Jiashu entertained.

“First, pinch the yarn between your thumb and pinky. Then, loop your middle finger through here, and pull this end over too.”

“And then you do this…”

Qin Jiashu was quick to learn. Xu Jiaojiao only needed to show him something once, and he immediately remembered it.

The two of them leaned against the bed, their feet warmed by a hanging IV drip. Xu Jiaojiao knitted gloves while Qin Jiashu played with string figures. Occasionally, the boy would ask Xu Jiaojiao how to make the next shape, and their interactions filled the afternoon.

“Here,” Xu Jiaojiao said, finishing the small gloves before dark.

She had deliberately knitted a long cord to connect the gloves and hung them around Qin Jiashu’s neck.

As evening approached and the temperature dropped, Xu Jiaojiao worried that Qin Jiashu might feel uncomfortable after lying in bed all day. Ignoring his protests, she wrapped him in her thick cotton-padded coat and hung the little gloves around his neck.

Only Qin Jiashu’s small face remained exposed, the rest of him bundled up warmly.

“So cute,” Xu Jiaojiao said happily, watching Qin Jiashu waddle around like a little dumpling.

“What should we have for dinner?” Xu Jiaojiao pondered, holding Qin Jiashu’s hand through her woolen gloves as they walked toward the kitchen.

As the saying goes, even the most skilled cook can’t make a feast without ingredients. Though Xu Jiaojiao was a talented cook, she lacked the ingredients to fully showcase her skills.

No matter how creatively she tried to cook, she couldn’t fatten up the scrawny Qin Jiashu into a chubby little dumpling.

“Let’s have vegetable rice,” she suggested.

Besides some rice, the only remaining staples were potatoes, sweet potatoes, and some greens.

Stir-frying vegetables to serve with rice would be too much trouble. Instead, she decided to cook everything together in one pot. Once the rice was cooked, she would add chopped greens for a simple yet flavorful dish.

As it turned out, a bowl of fragrant vegetable rice warmed them both from the inside out.

—

The first snow of winter in 1981 fell for two full days, accumulating to a depth of nearly forty centimeters.

After days of gloomy skies, the sun finally broke through. When Xu Jiaojiao woke up that morning, she saw the first ray of sunlight since entering the book.

The rising sun hung halfway in the eastern sky, casting a warm glow across the snow-covered landscape.

“It’s beautiful!” Xu Jiaojiao couldn’t help but exclaim.

Qin Jiashu, bundled up tightly beside her, nodded. His large eyes darted between the sky and Xu Jiaojiao.

Xu Jiaojiao looked down at the child, who was wrapped so snugly he resembled a round little ball.

“You’re adorable,” she cooed, switching her praise from the scenery to Qin Jiashu. Bending down, she scooped him up in a tight hug.

“Aunt?” Qin Jiashu asked, looking at Xu Jiaojiao with a hint of confusion.

Xu Jiaojiao carried the child a few steps through the snow, then paused. A mischievous grin spread across her face as she tossed him straight into the thick snowdrift.

“Ah!” Qin Jiashu cried out in alarm, then realized he was completely trapped in the snow.

“Hahaha…” Xu Jiaojiao burst into laughter at his pitiful struggles.

Qin Jiashu huffed, scrambling out of the snow on all fours, looking exasperated by his childish aunt.

After enjoying the scenery and playing in the snow, Xu Jiaojiao took Qin Jiashu to the kitchen to make breakfast. Soon, a wisp of smoke curled lazily from the kitchen chimney.

After breakfast, Qin Jiashu silently helped Xu Jiaojiao clear the snow from the courtyard. Once she finished, the boy hesitated before asking to go outside.

Xu Jiaojiao remembered how Qin Jiashu had returned home soaked to the bone the previous day, and her heart ached for him.

“Why don’t you stay in today?” she suggested. “The snow’s too thick, and it’s dangerous outside.”

Qin Jiashu frowned, torn between his promise and his concern.

Xu Jiaojiao guessed he must have made plans with his friends yesterday. Even as she prepared to retreat indoors, she felt conflicted.

He had given his word, and it wouldn’t be right to break his promise. What if his friends were already waiting outside?

“How about Aunt comes with you?” she offered.

Qin Jiashu opened his mouth but didn’t answer. Uncertain what to do, he lowered his head.

Xu Jiaojiao couldn’t bear to see the little boy so dejected and helpless. With a sigh, she relented and let him go.

She stood at the courtyard gate, braving the biting wind, watching Qin Jiashu trudge through the deep snow toward the mountains.

In the distance, she faintly spotted a small dark figure approaching from another direction to meet him.

Xu Jiaojiao had initially planned to secretly follow Qin Jiashu, but once she saw him safely reunite with his friend, she abandoned the idea. Hissing against the cold, she retreated indoors to knit.

—

Liu Shufen had been reborn for nearly half a month. In her previous life, when her abusive, impoverished husband beat her to death, Qin Zhengye—wearing his military uniform, golden wheat ears on his shoulders, and radiating righteous integrity—happened to appear on television.

She knew Qin Zhengye well. He was the only soldier from the neighboring village. Rumor had it that he hastily married Xu Jiaojiao, a sickly woman, years ago to care for his young nephew.

Xu Jiaojiao was renowned throughout the surrounding villages for her delicate beauty and frail health. Shortly after marrying Qin Zhengye, she froze to death on a snowy day.

Decades later, Qin Zhengye rose to great power and influence, while his nephew, Qin Jiashu, became the wealthiest man in Southern Province. When villagers spoke of Xu Jiaojiao, they often lamented her ill-fated life.

After all, had Xu Jiaojiao not frozen to death, with her husband becoming a high-ranking official and her nephew amassing a fortune, their life would have been the envy of countless others.

Liu Shufen had overheard these conversations but never pitied Xu Jiaojiao. In her view, the truly unfortunate one was herself—the woman who had obeyed her parents’ arrangement and married a poor, abusive husband.