After dinner, Cheng Rushan suggested going to the new house to take a look.

Even though it was dark, having electric lights didn’t delay their work.

Building a kang in the countryside was exhausting work—dealing with hay, clay, and drying adobe bricks on scorching days. Dealing with an old kang was even tougher; lifting the dusty soil would fill the room and choke people.

New kang beds weren’t as troublesome. Unlike the countryside, there was no need to dismantle old beds.

Cheng Rushan recommended using bricks, cement slabs, and clay for a clean and durable kang bed.

Jiang Lin directed Jiang Xinglei and others to mix clay, while Cheng Rushan worked with clay in a broken water bucket.

Then, inside the house, he framed the kang and stove according to the measured dimensions.

To make the kang more practical, they didn’t just build it on flat ground; they dug down about half a foot for its base.

Jiang Xinglei borrowed simple tools from carpenters and masons, along with a shovel and large trowel, to dig and clear the soil before starting the framework.

Jiang Dongjian watched Cheng Rushan build a low wall on one side and considered helping, but then noticed Jiang Lin squatting on the other side, wearing gloves and starting to lay bricks.

She had strength and her movements were as efficient as a man’s—slapping cement, pressing bricks, and smoothing with a trowel, all done smoothly and gracefully, almost enjoying it.

The four men of the Jiang family were collectively petrified.

Jiang Xinglei: “Sis, when did you learn to build walls?”

Jiang Lin: “You’ve been in the countryside for five or six years; you’d learn too. Even if you haven’t eaten pork, you’ve seen pigs run.”

Jiang Dongjian said to his younger son, “You should learn from your sister.”

Water Huai Village was good; if his daughter could learn so well, his son shouldn’t lag behind.

With Jiang Lin and Cheng Rushan working together, the frames for the kang and stove were quickly built.

The next day, they arranged the winding flue for the kang, covered it with cement slabs, piled on wheat straw clay, and smoothed it outward with a trowel to about the thickness of a brick.

This ensured insulation and elasticity, preventing the kang from getting too hot or too cold.

After finishing the kang, Jiang Lin designed the stove with Cheng Rushan.

Her design differed slightly from the rural style and resembled those found in tea houses—a main hearth with a large iron pot and two small stove eyes on the side, along with a spot for heating water, saving coal and firewood.

Because they had easy access to bricks, tiles, and cement, they built the stove entirely with bricks and cement slabs.

It was sturdy, beautiful, with gaps filled with cement and topped neatly with cement slabs, making it easy to clean.

Jiang Lin also added a simple cupboard for bowls and utensils, making everything convenient and orderly.

By the time they finished tidying up, not only the neighbors but even factory leaders came to visit at noon.

“Old Jiang, your son-in-law is quite skilled!”

“Haha, haha.” Jiang Dongjian laughed dumbly for the entire noon.

When he told others it was his daughter and son-in-law who built it, they assumed it was all done by his son-in-law.

What could his daughter possibly do?

“Young man, build one for us too.” Some couldn’t help but envy and wanted the same.

Cheng Rushan smiled, “If you have ready bricks and cement, I can build one in half a day. Unfortunately, we’re heading home tomorrow. Whoever is in a hurry, I can build one for them first, and others can hire masons to replicate this design. If not urgent, wait for my next visit, and I’ll ensure you get a stove.”

It just so happened that Director Mo from the factory committee wanted one.

They had moved upstairs, but his elderly parents insisted on living downstairs in their flat and sleeping on a kang.

They had a kang and stove but couldn’t use it properly—smoking whenever they lit a fire, choking them.

Director Mo had hired many masons to fix it, but it only lasted a few days each time.

Finally, the old lady forced her son to dismantle the stove pit.

She refused to burn firewood and sleep on the kang year-round, causing dampness and unhealthy conditions.

But she was stubborn and wouldn’t move.

So, the director had to install a stove and be cautious of her gas poisoning.

The large auto parts factory naturally needed to construct something, so they prepared spare bricks, tiles, and cement promptly under Director Mo’s command.

Cheng Rushan suggested Jiang Lin rest at home and help Jiang Dongjian settle into their new home while he handled things himself.

After all, Director Mo had plenty of helpers.

Of course, he took his younger brother-in-law along, adhering to his wife’s intention to toughen him up, seizing every opportunity to train him.

After work that afternoon, Xu Aimei and Yan Runzhi went together to buy eggs and vegetables.

They already had cured meats like sausage, duck, and fish brought by Cheng Rushan, ready for cooking.

They made a pot of soup base with cured meats and duck, then prepared hotpot with various vegetables since there was no beef or mutton.

Xu Aimei and Yan Runzhi made small meatballs for the children and also Yan Runzhi’s specialty, egg dumplings.

Yan Runzhi demonstrated, heating a large spoon, greasing it with fat pork, pouring in beaten eggs, then flipping it back onto the heat.

The egg pancake curled up, filled with a bit of minced meat, folded with chopsticks, lightly fried on both sides, and served.

After cooking, they could be dipped in the hotpot.

When Jiang Lin returned, she saw several boys of varying heights eagerly watching Yan Runzhi effortlessly fry the egg dumplings beside the stove.

When the egg dumplings were ready, Xiaoluo reached out to grab one.

Da Bao: “Wait! It’s raw.”

Xiao Luo was startled by him.

Xiao Bao: “Some are cooked.”

Xiao Ke: “The meat is raw. Don’t believe me? Ask Grandma.”

Xu Aimei smiled, “We’ll boil them in the pot later; they’re not fully cooked yet.”

In the next batch, Yan Runzhi scooped some minced meat into the spoon, stirred it a few times until it was cooked, poured it out, greased the spoon again, fried another egg pancake, filled it with the cooked minced meat, quickly made a few and put them on a plate for them to enjoy.

Jiang Lin washed her hair and feet with hot water from the stove.

Just as she was finishing up, she saw Jiang Xinglei rush back in a panic, as if someone were chasing him.

“Why are you back? Where’s your brother-in-law?” Jiang Lin asked.

Jiang Xinglei hurriedly crouched down and whispered, “Sis, my brother-in-law…”

Jiang Lin interrupted, “Why are you stammering? Help me pour some water.”

Jiang Xinglei tested the warm water in the basin and used a ladle to help Jiang Lin rinse her hair. “My brother-in-law is in a fight.”

Jiang Lin asked, “A fight? What fight?”

She thought Jiang Xinglei was joking.

Jiang Xinglei replied, “With Lu Hang.”

“What?” Jiang Lin suddenly raised her head, splashing Jiang Xinglei with water all over his face and body.

Jiang Xinglei wiped his face, “Sis, you nearly scared me to death.”

Jiang Lin used a towel to dry her hair. “What exactly happened? Weren’t you supposed to be at Director Mo’s house building the stove?”

Jiang Xinglei explained, “That bastard Lu Hang came messing around again, provoking my brother-in-law…”

Jiang Lin put on her coat, “Lead the way.”

Yan Runzhi saw her washing her hair and getting ready to leave, quickly saying, “Bao’er’s mom, it’s windy outside. After washing your hair, don’t go out.”

“I’ll be back soon,” Jiang Lin reassured her.

Yan Runzhi quickly handed over the scarf she had taken off to the eldest son, “Take this to your mom.”

Da Bao ran off, “Mom, where are you going?”

Jiang Lin smiled, “To see how your dad’s stove is coming along. You guys stay home.” She then left with Jiang Xinglei.

…

In the afternoon, Cheng Rushan was at Madam Mo’s place building the stove.

He first inspected the chimney in the k’ang and on the walls; after some time, the chimney was somewhat blocked. He’d have to clear it once the stove was finished.

He had Jiang Xinglei and another person assist with miscellaneous tasks like mixing mortar and preparing materials. When it came time to build the stove, he kept the other person busy and sent Jiang Xinglei out to find some straw grass.

He was cooking, and Old Lady Mo was watching beside him.

She was over eighty years old, still sharp-eyed and clear-eared, just a bit slow on her feet.

She thought Cheng Rushan was quite handsome, reminding her of the revolutionary activist she secretly admired in her youth.

She kept staring at him, fetching water and handing him cigarettes; she heard he liked sweets instead of smoking.

“Child, how old are you?”

Cheng Rushan: “Grandma, I’m 26 this year.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed, I thought you were eighteen or nineteen.”

Cheng Rushan smiled, his hands moving quickly and efficiently.

“Child, have you found a wife yet?”

Cheng Rushan: “Yes, Grandma. My father-in-law’s surname is Jiang, Jiang Dongjian. His second daughter. We have two sons.”

“Oh, his family… your father-in-law isn’t good at much except for being taken advantage of. His youngest daughter… wait, isn’t she already with someone? With the Lao family’s son? When they were about to go to the countryside, Lao arranged for him to work in a textile factory. They got married, and now they have kids.”

Cheng Rushan: “… Who said that? I swear I’ll beat them.”

Old Lady Mo felt a bit confused in her memory, counting on her fingers which year was which, and what happened when and showed a photo.

Cheng Rushan glanced at the framed photo on the wall, with Old Lady Mo in her forties or fifties.

He had seen it when he checked the stove.

At that time, her skin wasn’t so saggy, but he thought even out of politeness, he couldn’t agree that she was as beautiful as Jiang Lin.

Especially those two striking large front teeth when she was young, which were no longer visible.

Hearing Old Lady Mo muttering and tangled up there, Cheng Rushan washed his hands and took out a handmade leather wallet from his pocket, opening it and taking out a photo of Jiang Lin.

It was taken by Zeng Hongjie, and he thought she looked nice, so he put her and their son’s photo in there.

He handed it to Old Lady Mo to see.

The photo wasn’t very big.

Old Lady Mo held it up to the light, squinting and laughing, revealing her uneven teeth. “At first glance, it is, but on closer inspection, it’s not. Look carefully, it’s the spirit that matters.”

She said to Cheng Rushan, “Your wife has more spirit than his wife. Although his wife is beautiful, she looks lifeless, and I don’t like it.” She proudly held up Cheng Rushan’s photo. “This is what I looked like when I was young, beautiful and lively. See how she shines, right?”

Cheng Rushan nodded. “Yes, handsome and shining. I feel captivated by her soul at first sight.”

Old Lady Mo nodded repeatedly. “Exactly! Ah, back then, I liked that young man who was just as handsome as you. Like you said, with just one glance, he could capture your soul. It’s been so many years, but he never came back, ah…”

Cheng Rushan asked, “Where did he go then?”

Old Lady Mo whispered, “Probably went over to the sea.”

She pointed to the south and mentioned a name.

Cheng Rushan recognized the name—a famous national commander who died heroically in the War of Resistance Against Japan. “He was quite handsome.”

Old Lady Mo hushed him, “Shh… don’t let them hear. They’ll catch me for messing around with men and women again.”

Cheng Rushan continued working on the stove.

As the sun slowly set in the west, Old Lady Mo turned on the electric light and sat at the doorway, looking at the sky outside.

She chatted with Cheng Rushan, very talkative, not at all like Director Mo had said, that his parents were difficult to handle.