Chapter 7

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Zhou Mancang had vaguely heard about the legal disputes involving the Shen family, but he was busy distributing grain at the time. Since the conflicts never escalated to his level and didn’t affect the grain allocation, he simply chose to ignore them. After all, a head of the brigade was like the patriarch of the entire village—he didn’t meddle unnecessarily.

Yet, as fate would have it, the fire eventually spread to his doorstep.

At first, Zhou Mancang tried to brush off the matter, claiming it was a private issue among Shen Shaoyuan and his brothers and that the brigade leaders shouldn’t interfere in members’ family affairs. But today, the usually quiet and honest Shen Seventh—Shen Mao’er—acted as if he had taken the wrong medicine. He was not only unusually talkative but also stubbornly difficult.

In the end, Shen Mao’er even began to play hardball, saying that his daughter, so young and motherless, had been living a harsh life with him, barely scraping by. Now that she had grown up, if anything were to happen to her because of their leaky, dilapidated home, he would hang himself right at the entrance of the brigade office.

Hang himself at the entrance of the brigade office.

Who would have thought of that!

Zhou Mancang glanced at the gaunt, pale-faced Shen Mao’er and, amidst the murmurs of the assembled villagers—“That father and daughter truly are pitiful,” “Even if it’s a family matter, the brigade can’t just turn a blind eye,” “The people’s production team must look after the people”—he reluctantly nodded and said, “First, discuss it among yourselves. If you can’t come to an agreement, the brigade will mediate.”

Shen Shaoyuan, well versed in knowing when to quit, didn’t fear Zhou Mancang breaking his word in front of so many witnesses. He immediately withdrew his hand from Zhou’s, thanked the neighboring villagers who had been trying to help, hoisted the sack on his shoulder, grabbed his bamboo basket, and called Shen Mao’er to leave together.

Watching the frail figures of father and daughter disappear, Aunt Chen sighed sympathetically: “Ah, they’re both of the same honest, simple nature. Without someone to support them, they really won’t make it.”

Zhou Mancang couldn’t help but remark, “Honest and simple, but capable of talking about hanging himself at the brigade office? He’s usually so quiet—who knew he could talk so much?”

Unlike others who feared Zhou Mancang, Aunt Chen wasn’t afraid to speak candidly: “Even the quietest rabbit bites when cornered. When pushed to the brink, anyone would fight back. Shen Seventh only has Mao’er, his only child. If anything happened to her, wouldn’t he really hang himself? If the brigade officials don’t uphold justice for him, what other choice would he have but to hang himself at the brigade door?”

Zhou Mancang was left speechless, waving his hand dismissively: “Hurry up, it’s your turn for grain distribution now.”

The educated youth received their grain last. A group of them had watched the whole commotion unfold and pieced together the story from the villagers’ gossip.

Though the male educated youths held a favorable impression of Shen Lingling, the female youths were less impressed, especially Wang Qiutong. She once quarreled with Shen Lingling over buying the same beautiful pair of bloomers.

Although Shen Lingling eventually yielded, Wang Qiutong was hardly pleased. The incident quickly spread throughout the village, earning Shen Lingling a reputation for generosity, while Wang Qiutong was branded as wilful and capricious.

Wang Qiutong and Shen Lingling had met by chance at the county department store when no one else was around, so it was clear who had spread the story.

“Heh, stealing someone’s house isn’t enough, now they want to snatch their grain too, pushing their own uncle and cousin to the brink. So kind-hearted, really too kind-hearted,” Wang Qiutong curled her lip. The villagers were fools; unlike her, she had long seen Shen Lingling’s true nature.

Zhang Zhiqiang scowled, “Wang Qiutong, don’t spread malicious gossip just because you have conflicts with Comrade Shen Lingling. There might be misunderstandings. Besides, family matters are decided by elders and have nothing to do with Comrade Shen Lingling.”

Wang Qiutong rolled her eyes, “You keep mentioning Shen Lingling, but does she even pay you any mind? Delusional!”

Several female educated youths couldn’t help but laugh.

Wang Qiutong’s words struck Zhang Zhiqiang to the core. He stammered, finally sputtering four words: “Unreasonable!”

*

Shen Mao’er was unaware of the ongoing lawsuits after they left. The father and daughter returned home carrying their grain. Before dusk, they reheated the leftover porridge from lunch and supplemented it with some snacks for dinner.

Night soon fell, and Shen Mao’er found the only kerosene lamp in the house and lit it.

They sat facing each other, the single light source in the dark room between them, speechless for a moment.

After a while, Shen Shaoyuan tapped the glass chimney of the kerosene lamp and sighed, “Glass and glaze are somewhat alike. In this Great Liang, even ordinary wealthy families can’t afford glazed vessels, let alone poor households like ours.”

Shen Mao’er tapped the glass too, “Glaze is thinner and more translucent.”

Shen Shaoyuan said, “Perfect for a lamp cover.”

Shen Mao’er added, “Even better than using paper for windows.”

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In the original owner’s memory, many houses in the commune had “glass windows.”

Shen Shaoyuan nodded, “This kerosene is quite wonderful.”

Shen Mao’er agreed, “The best part is it doesn’t turn people into ghosts under rebel blades.”

Father and daughter exchanged a glance, sighed in unison, and then shared a wry smile.

Busy adapting to their new identities during the day, they had no time to think deeply. But at night, with only the two of them and darkness all around, it felt as if they were back hiding in the treasure vault, trembling with fear.

Having faced calamity, narrowly escaped death, and come to a strange world—anyone would be dazed for days.

Fortunately, both father and daughter had carefree temperaments, so a few casual words back and forth served as mutual comfort.

Their home was poor, and the village looked poor too. But this other world had many things Great Liang couldn’t match. At least they were alive. With their abilities, why fear hardship?

Though unspoken, both understood each other perfectly:

Since fate brought them here, they must make the best of it.

The heavens had granted them a sliver of hope; they must live well.

In the past, at the prince’s manor, nights could be spent drinking, admiring the moon, reading, playing the zither, or watching performances. Now, only a kerosene lamp remained, its fuel costly. No point in fussing—better to wash up early and sleep.

The sun was strong today, so the mats dried well, though the quilts remained damp.

Even if they were dry, the father and daughter had no love for those tattered mats and quilts. Without a word, they tacitly agreed to retreat to the treasure vault.

Inside the vault were beds and quilts—the beds made of golden nanmu wood, warm in winter and cool in summer; the quilts were made from Great Liang’s finest silk cotton and brocade, all items the pair were accustomed to.

However...

“What if the quilts get dirty from sleeping on them?” Shen Mao’er asked from within the soft bed, through the folding screen.

Shen Shaoyuan was stumped.

Taking them outside to wash and dry was impossible, but never washing them was worse.

After a moment, he said, “Sleeping in the vault isn’t a long-term solution. We must find a way to repair the house and buy new quilts.”

Shen Mao’er nodded without further words, her mind swirling over the day’s events until she unknowingly fell asleep.

The next day, Shen Shaoyuan trudged off to work with a hoe, still looking haggard. Shen Mao’er didn’t have to go.

Yesterday, during grain distribution, the brigade leader had announced that due to the heat and light farm work, from now on only strong laborers were required to work; women and especially elders were exempt. Since Shen Mao’er had fainted in the field, she was naturally excused.

But she didn’t idle at home.

When she was a county princess, she could afford to worry about nothing, spending leisure time boating on lakes to escape the heat. Now, in this strange world, she was an ordinary peasant girl—no, a poor farmer’s daughter. If she behaved as before, she would starve or freeze to death sooner or later.

After breakfast, she dismantled the quilts that had been roughly dried yesterday.

She spread the cotton quilt outside to dry further, gently beating it with a stick. Unfortunately, the cotton was already hardened, so the effort was futile.

She carefully washed the quilt cover by the well and hung it on a bamboo pole outside the door to dry.

Though her house was shabby, it had its advantages: next door was the landlord’s courtyard. Since the yard’s outer wall was demolished and a row of houses converted into the brigade office, the well was no longer enclosed but in a public area, convenient for her family.

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Village members nearby also came to fetch water, but none had it as easy as her family. After all, her house had once belonged to the landlord—closer by far than others.

Shen Mao’er felt quite satisfied.

After finishing the drying, she tidied both inside and outside the house, then grabbed her bamboo basket and wore her straw hat with its half-missing brim before stepping out.

She walked from the west end of the village to the east, soon arriving outside the village primary school.

In recent years, to support the call to “bring schools to the doorsteps of poor and lower-middle peasants,” many brigades had gradually opened schools. The Yangliu Brigade’s village primary school had started two years ago, with only two classes and two teachers.

One teacher was Shen Lingling, the other an older educated youth named Cheng Tao; both had high school diplomas.

Nowadays, many village primary school teachers held only middle school or elementary school diplomas. Having two high school graduates as teachers in Yangliu was rare.

In fact, local high school graduates like Shen Lingling had chances to enter government agencies or enterprises. Of course, she had quietly taken entrance exams but hadn’t passed.

No one in the village knew this.

Fortunately, the village soon established a primary school, and as the brigade’s only high school graduate, Shen Lingling naturally became a teacher.

Her grades were average, which explained her repeated failures in job exams. After so many setbacks, she valued this teaching position deeply. Especially last year, when a teacher from Songshu Brigade was transferred up to the commune primary school, Shen Lingling saw potential for advancement and secretly hoped to teach at the commune, county, or even city primary school someday.

Thus, when she saw Shen Mao’er outside the school, her heart skipped a beat.

She remembered well that Shen Mao’er had her eyes on this job!

The exams and awards had just been handed out. The children were cheering “Holiday!” and “Goodbye, teacher!” and quickly dispersed. Shen Lingling, preoccupied, paid little attention to the students and hurried toward Shen Mao’er.

“Shen Mao’er, what are you doing here?”

Shen Mao’er looked innocent, “This is the village’s place. There’s no rule barring members from coming here, right?” Hesitating, she added, “You look so fierce—are you going to bully me again?”

Shen Lingling was speechless.

Angrily, she said, “Don’t talk nonsense. When have I ever bullied you?!”

Shen Mao’er muttered, “Borrowing your house, seizing grain—not bullying?”

Before Shen Lingling could retort, Shen Mao’er added, “Besides, I’m here to see Principal Cheng. It’s none of your business.”

She snorted, ignored Shen Lingling, and walked toward Cheng Tao, speaking briefly before entering the nearby teacher’s office together.

Shen Lingling, suspicious of Shen Mao’er’s motives, was about to follow but saw her step out smiling lightly, not even sparing Shen Lingling a glance, and walk away briskly.

The more Shen Lingling thought about it, the more uneasy she felt. Summoning courage, she entered the office and tried to slyly inquire about Shen Mao’er’s visit.

Cheng Tao, wearing glasses and looking somewhat mature, smiled teasingly at Shen Lingling’s question: “Comrade Shen Mao’er came to borrow some high school textbooks from me. She said you guard your books like precious jewels and won’t lend them, but once she borrows them, she’ll study day and night to surpass you. Haha, you two sisters are quite interesting.”

Shen Lingling was dumbfounded.

When had Shen Mao’er ever asked to borrow her textbooks? Never!

Even if she had asked, Shen Lingling wouldn’t have lent them. But in truth, Shen Mao’er hadn’t asked at all!

Lying—this two-faced person was lying!