Chapter 14
It is easy to start a fire in an earthen stove, but difficult to put it out.
If you put in too much firewood, you can douse it with water to extinguish it. If it’s not too much, just let it burn and put water in the pot. By the time you finish eating and the fire naturally dies out, the water will be hot, which is perfect for washing the dishes.
Hot water dissolves grease, and with a quick scrub using a loofah sponge—even without dish soap—Qiao Wei looked closely and felt it was clean enough.
Yan Xiang was still as diligent as ever.
He was small and couldn’t carry much at once, but he would run back and forth to take the washed bowls, plates, and chopsticks to the table under the eaves to dry.
The sun was high. After Qiao Wei finished tidying the kitchen and wiping her hands, she saw tiny beads of sweat glistening on Yan Xiang’s forehead.
“Change your clothes,” she called out to Yan Xiang.
She rummaged through Yan Xiang’s room and found a tank top to give him. “Wear this.”
In the middle of summer, it’s so uncomfortable to make such a young child wear a shirt with sleeves and a collar. Jun Jun from Regimental Commander Zhao’s family wears a tattered tank top; although it’s a bit dirty, it looks very cool and comfortable.
Yan Xiang was very happy.
Without needing Qiao Wei’s help, he unbuttoned the buttons one by one himself.
Thank goodness, Qiao Wei thought. She knew that raising a child was exhausting. The original owner’s memories still held that sense of frustration and fatigue from child-rearing, but fortunately, the most tiring stage had already passed by the time she took over.
Look, Yan Xiang could eat on his own, go to the bathroom, pull up his pants, get dressed, and even help with chores—how worry-free he was.
Yan Xiang quickly changed into the tank top, in a great mood. He patted his chubby little belly with his hands: “Comfy!”
Qiao Wei couldn’t help but smile and asked, “Does Xiangxiang like wearing tank tops?”
“Like!”
“Then why didn’t you wear one?”
Didn’t Yan Xiang dress himself this morning?
Yan Xiang looked up with his dark, glistening eyes, looking very innocent. “Mom doesn’t like it.”
“Mom doesn’t like me wearing tank tops.”
“Mom doesn’t like me playing with Jun Jun and the others.”
Qiao Wei froze.
Her memories were triggered, and upon checking them, it was indeed true.
Sigh.
Qiao Wei rubbed her temples and lowered her hand. “From now on, Xiangxiang can wear whatever you want. As long as you feel comfortable, we can wear it.”
Yan Xiang was very happy. “Okay!”
Compared to clothes that looked fancy or pretty, such a young child naturally preferred wearing what was comfortable.
Qiao Wei stood up, put her hands on her hips, and looked around.
The clothes were washed, the dishes were scrubbed, and the room was cleaned. The child had grown up enough to play quietly on his own.
There didn’t seem to be anything left to do.
Qiao Wei returned to the study. The small bookshelf was packed tightly with books, with no gaps left. She scanned them and found that the ones she had read, or hadn’t read but knew the titles of, could be counted on one hand. The others were basically books she had never read or even heard of.
But just by looking at the titles, one could tell that even if these books were considered popular reading in this era, any one of them would be considered serious literature in future generations.
The original owner seemed to have spent a lot of time passing the days by reading these books.
In an era without the internet or even television, Qiao Wei had no choice but to pull one out at random, sit under the eaves outside, and read slowly.
Occasionally, she would look up and see Yan Xiang, dressed comfortably and coolly, playing happily and quietly in the shade of the trees in the yard.
It is difficult for young people in the future to calm down and read the literary works of this era. Not to mention reading, people in the future even watch TV shows at double speed; some even consider watching clips as having seen the show.
But Qiao Wei had experienced sickness, pain, and death. Her temperament had long been tormented, or rather tempered, by pain that even medical morphine couldn’t suppress.
She was a person who could settle her mind.
The cicadas kept chirping.
Yan Xiang got sleepy and went back inside to take a nap.
He woke up, got up to go to the bathroom, drank some water, and went back to playing.
Occasionally he would look up and see his mom still sitting under the eaves, reading.
Qiao Wei kept reading until a shadow fell over her.
The view in front of her suddenly darkened. She looked up naturally and saw Yan Lei’s face.
“What are you doing?” he asked, looking down at her.
He was already tall, and he was standing while Qiao Wei was sitting.
If Qiao Wei only had one book in her hand, Yan Lei wouldn’t have asked such a seemingly rhetorical question. But he glanced at the table next to her, where a thick stack of books was piled up.
They were all books from her bookshelf. Although she would read them repeatedly, she used to spend days reading just one book. Why had she suddenly moved so many out?
Qiao Wei’s eyes were sore. She stood up and squeezed the inner corners of her eyes. “Nothing much, just organizing the books. What time is it? Why are you back so early?”
“The bathhouse is open today, did you forget?” Yan Lei placed a net bag on the table and said bluntly, “They say peaches are nutritious.”
After saying that, he turned and went into the house.
It took Qiao Wei a second to realize—the doctor at the hospital said yesterday that she was malnourished.
So he brought peaches back today.
What, was he some kind of fortune teller who calculated that she wouldn’t be able to buy fruit today?
The corners of Qiao Wei’s mouth curled up.
Yan Xiang was getting toys from the room. Seeing him, he was happy: “Dad is back!”
The man’s voice came from inside: “Get your things, we’re going to take a bath.”
Yan Xiang cheered: “Going to take a bath!”
Although they could wash in a basin at home, the sound of running water in the bathhouse was so much more fun.
Yan Lei changed out of his uniform and was wearing only an undershirt. It was hot in the summer, and many men dressed like that.
He came out to look for the basin but saw no one in the yard. There were half as many books on the small table as before.
Suddenly, Qiao Wei stepped briskly out of the kitchen, gathered up the remaining books, leaving only a few on the table, and turned back into the kitchen.
Yan Lei was confused. He followed her and stood at the kitchen doorway, seeing the books Qiao Wei had taken were piled on the kitchen floor, right next to the firewood pile.
Yan Lei frowned: “What are you doing?”
Qiao Wei said: “I don’t want these books anymore.”
Yan Lei was stunned. Because these books were her treasures; if he so much as flipped through one, she would give him the cold shoulder for the whole day.
Why did she suddenly not want them?
“If you don’t want them, go sell them,” he said.
Bookstores buy back old books; at the very least, you can sell them to a scrap dealer. Why pile them in the kitchen?
Qiao Wei pondered for a moment and decided to explain it to him clearly.
“The ideological content in these books isn’t very good. I don’t want people to see them,” she said. “I feel like things are going to get stricter in the future. You are a soldier, and the Military Unit is even stricter. I’m afraid that if people see them, it will have a bad influence on you.”
This was critical.
Qiao Wei had originally just wanted to pass the time that afternoon by randomly picking a book and sitting under the eaves to read slowly and leisurely.
Who knew that the original owner’s way of thinking—and what she aspired to—was very clear. Therefore, the types of books she liked to read were obvious, and they really didn’t conform to the mainstream ideology of this era.
Qiao Wei sensed something was wrong. She quickly flipped through the whole book and was certain that the content of this book might be problematic in this era.
It was fine for now, but when the more rigorous times arrived, it might cause trouble.
But why didn’t Yan Lei get into trouble because of this in the original story?
Qiao Wei suddenly remembered that in the original story, after Lin Xixi got married, she told Yan Lei that since he had already married her, she hoped he wouldn’t always dwell on the past.
Yan Lei also wanted to start a new life, so he disposed of his late wife’s belongings. It didn’t go into detail about how he disposed of them, just glossing over it with “handled it all cleanly.”
Now, that plot point didn’t exist, and Qiao Wei had replaced the original owner, so it was up to her to handle it.
“So, I think it’s better to burn them,” she said. “It’s perfect for starting the fire when cooking.”
Yan Lei was silent for a moment, then asked: “How bad is it?”
“It’s fine when nothing is happening,” Qiao Wei said. “As of now, if the leaders found out, I think it would just be a reprimand.”
She looked at Yan Lei: “I’m just afraid that when something does happen…”
Yan Lei was able to reach such a high position later, so he couldn’t be a fool, nor could he lack political sensitivity.
On the contrary, although his educational level wasn’t high, his mind was quick, and he was very sensitive politically.
It was just that the original owner had always refused to let him touch her precious books. If he had known what was in those books earlier, he probably would have disposed of them long ago.
In fact, Yan Lei had sensed the trend of changing atmosphere in the Military Unit earlier than others; he just hadn’t expected to be blind to his own situation—right under his nose, on his wife’s bookshelf, there were actually books that shouldn’t exist.
Fortunately, she had realized it herself.
Yan Lei glanced at Qiao Wei and said seriously: “Then burn them.”
He asked again: “Is this all of them?”
There were still quite a few books on the bookshelf, and he needed to know if the others were safe and reliable.
“I’m not sure. I have to flip through them all to confirm,” Qiao Wei said.
In later generations, printed books often had one sentence per paragraph and large line spacing.
Publications of this time were different; a single paragraph contained enough text for two pages in later generations. The text was dense, and the paragraphs were extremely long.
Even though Qiao Wei had trained herself to read ten lines at a glance in the information age, her eyes were almost going blind after reading for an afternoon.
She saw Yan Lei frown and realized this statement had a flaw—these books were all the original owner’s, and in an era of scarcity of goods and books, each one had been read until it was falling apart by the original owner.
Yet she said she had to flip through them again to confirm.
Qiao Wei wasn’t afraid, and she told him with a calm expression: “Before you found me, I was actually running a high fever, for nearly two days and a night; it was lucky I didn’t die. When I woke up, I felt my brain was foggy. No, not foggy, but there’s a feeling different from before. Some things I can’t remember clearly, and some of my ideas have changed.”
“Yan Lei, you promised me yesterday to just pretend that the previous me is already dead.”
The two of them looked at each other for a moment; her eyes were clear.
Yan Lei nodded: “Fine. Finish it up quickly.”
He turned and went out, took a basin from the wall, and went into the house.
A family of three with two basins; the husband and wife each took one, and they went out to take a bath.
In the basins were towels, soap flakes, and clean clothes to change into.
Yan Lei carried his basin in his hands, while Qiao Wei balanced hers on her hip. Between them, they held Yan Xiang’s hand.
They hadn’t gone far after leaving when they ran into Regimental Commander Zhao’s family.
This was Qiao Wei’s first time seeing Regimental Commander Zhao—of course, seeing him in the original owner’s memories didn’t count.
Regimental Commander Zhao had dark, tanned skin. He wasn’t as tall as Yan Lei, but he was very sturdy, a man like a black iron tower.
Regimental Commander Zhao and his wife were very prolific.
A whole bunch of people went out to bathe: the eldest son Gangzi, 14; the second daughter Yingzi, 11; the third son Huazi, 9. The fourth son, Junzi, was 5—the little boy who wanted to pull Yan Xiang to play today. The youngest, Wu Nier, didn’t have a formal name yet and was only two years old.
The bathhouse was open today, and his whole family went to bathe.
The Military Unit issued bath tickets, which were free. If they bathed in a basin at home, they would have to burn hot water, which wasted firewood and coal. With so many people in his family, it would waste even more. They always went out as a whole family to bathe on the bathhouse’s opening day and rarely boiled water to wash at home.
The two families greeted each other: “Going to bathe?”
They merged and walked together. Along the way, there were other families in groups of two or three, all military dependents still living in the old area, all heading toward the Residential Compound.
Someone on the road muttered: “It would be so good if we also lived in the Residential Compound.”
Yan Lei heard it and couldn’t help but glance at Qiao Wei.
This was something his wife had always been brooding about. In the past, if she heard this, she would pull a long face and not give him a pleasant look.
But today, she seemed as if she hadn’t heard it. She held Yan Xiang’s chubby little hand, swinging it back and forth.
“Xiangxiang, come!” Qiao Wei lifted her arm and exerted force.
Yan Lei followed suit and exerted force. The two lifted him up together, and Yan Xiang tucked his feet up, dangling in the air. After dangling for a while, they set him down, and he giggled.
Yan Lei glanced at Qiao Wei again.
The sun was setting in the west, and her smile was brighter than the sunshine.
Yan Lei didn’t look away until a while later.
The Zhao family watched happily.
There were many of them, so it was livelier. Junzi insisted that his older brother and older sister lift him up too. But Gangzi and Yingzi didn’t have as much strength as the adults, and after lifting him for two steps, they couldn’t hold him anymore.
Junzi complained dissatisfiedly. As the older sister, Yingzi slapped him on the back of the head: “It’s good enough that we carried you for two steps.”
Bloodline suppression of the annoying younger brother.
Sister Yang scolded her: “Be gentle, don’t hit Jun Jun stupid; he’s not very bright to begin with.”
Junzi jumped up and shouted: “I am smart!”
Yan Lei and Qiao Wei also looked back at the Zhao family’s lively and chaotic group and both laughed.
Only a young girl following behind the Zhao family, slender and beautiful, did not have a smile on her face. Her eyes kept staring through the gaps in the crowd at Yan Lei and Qiao Wei.
It was Lin Xixi.
