Chapter 37:

Recognizing each other, the atmosphere between the two instantly froze.

Lin Chuanbai looked at Yu Xiang’an’s basket, which presumably contained apples and a fat duck—was this what she meant by “life isn’t easy”?

Yu Xiang’an glanced at his bulging pockets, her emotions complicated. That must be where the ginseng was hidden—was this his version of “life isn’t easy”?

At that moment, both of them inwardly scoffed. *Men’s mouths, women’s mouths—all just deceitful nonsense!*

Awkward as it was, the trade had to go on.

Almost simultaneously, they averted their gazes and silently began pulling out their goods to exchange.

Neither haggled much. If there was any disagreement, they simply gestured with their hands.

Once the deal was done, they immediately chose opposite directions and walked away.

*The county town is big enough—we probably won’t run into each other again, right?*

After putting some distance between them, Yu Xiang’an patted her chest, stashed the ginseng in her Xixi Farm, and slowly reflected on what had just happened.

*He was actually the one who wanted to trade with me?* Then the clothes he was wearing probably weren’t his usual standard, and those tattered shoes with his toes poking out must have been part of the act.

That made sense—she had disguised herself too.

But now that she thought about it, it still felt unbelievable. *Could it really be such a coincidence?*

Yu Xiang’an felt a sense of absurdity.

*When did he come here?*

*Did he arrive at the same time as me?*

*Is he from the county town, a nearby village, or just passing through by chance?*

Still, they were fellow time travelers—compared to others, they were both bolder.

At a time when things were strictly controlled, few dared to venture into the black market. Take Yu Qingshan, for example. Over the years, he must have traded there, but in all this time, Yu Xiang’an had never found any evidence—not just in the six months since she arrived, but even in her memories, there was no trace of him dealing in the black market. Either he had always played it safe, or he was so careful that even his own daughter was kept in the dark.

But it was impossible that he had never traded under the table. He must have had his own connections in the black market. She remembered during a particularly difficult period when the family had many mouths to feed and food ran out by mid-month. Yu Qingshan would sneak out late at night, and the next day, the rice jar would mysteriously be fuller. He never explained, and such instances were rare.

Yu Xiang’an believed that unless absolutely necessary, he wouldn’t break the rules. He operated within his comfort zone unless forced otherwise.

This wasn’t unique. Most people in the black market were there out of necessity—without this last resort, they might not survive. Compared to that, taking the risk was worth it if it meant staying alive.

*Was that unnamed fellow traveler also forced into this?*

If so, he’d probably show up again.

For instance, this time, he had brought fresh ginseng from the north—recently harvested, based on her inspection.

If she wanted to figure out his usual area, she could keep an ear out for who was selling ginseng. It was a rare commodity here, unlike the fruit she sold, which was more common. She could sell northern fruits like apples in the city and distribute the rest locally without drawing much attention. But ginseng was different.

From this, she could tell he was bold—but what about his character? Was he tight-lipped?

If he had loose lips and said something incriminating…

*Better keep my distance.*

*No interference. I’ll reduce my black market visits. If I do go, I’ll disguise myself better. Maybe I should just sell my stock in the city—I can get better goods there anyway…*

On the other end, Lin Chuanbai thought the same. Though their “fateful encounter” left him speechless, he didn’t want it to continue. Without knowing her well, keeping a safe distance was wisest. Plus, with the crackdown on superstition, if she accidentally slipped up, he could be implicated.

*This fellow traveler—I’ve never met her before. If I keep an ear out for who’s selling northern fruits like apples, I might figure out if she’s local.*

*I’ll cut back on black market visits. Maybe get someone else to handle it for me…*

Both of them had arrived at the same conclusion.

With that settled, the matter was put to rest. He didn’t stash everything away—he carried the duck openly and stored most of the apples in his private herb garden. The rest he took home, where it would be seen by the family.

After returning home, life seemed to return to normal. The unexpected encounter with a fellow traveler didn’t visibly change anything—but only they knew if that was truly the case.

Yu Xiang’an didn’t know about him, but for days afterward, she dreamed of her parents, friends, classmates, and teachers from her past life.

In her dreams, everything was unchanged—she was still herself.

Waking up left her feeling hollow. *How are they doing now?*

At first, they must have grieved her loss, but time would dull the pain. By now, they were probably fine.

In a few more years, she might fade into obscurity—only her family would remember her.

These thoughts weighed heavily on her.

Then came another “bad news”—she had to help with New Year’s shopping.

During the holidays, the state-run store stocked extra goods. This year, each household could buy additional cooking oil with their ration book. A notice was posted at the store, and clerks occasionally reminded customers.

No one would refuse—oil was precious, and this was a rare chance to stock up.

Her family could buy an extra pound.

On the day the new stock arrived, it was Yu Xiang’an’s day off, so she had to queue early. New Year’s preparations required many items—rice cakes, tofu, fish, and meat if possible.

Roasted peanuts or sunflower seeds were treats for visiting children.

If they were well-off, kids might get new clothes or shoes.

That was considered prosperous.

She went to bed at 6 p.m., woke at 2 a.m., and headed to the store with a stool and an old coat. The winter night was cold and damp.

At 2 a.m., she wasn’t even early—there were already twenty people ahead of her, all sitting on stools or wooden blocks, dozing as they waited for the store to open.

Yu Xiang’an: *”…”*

*When will we return to a time with supermarkets where you can buy anything anytime?*

With nothing to do, she sat on her stool, half-asleep. Leaving it to hold her spot wasn’t an option—someone might toss it aside, and others would resent her for skipping the line.

She considered reading but couldn’t keep a flashlight on all night—too wasteful.

The moonlight was bright, so she took out paper and jotted down tasks, organizing her thoughts.

First, work. Her transition had been smooth, and she could always ask Liu Shouyi for help. The factory ran on routine, so her job was manageable.

Next, her house. She’d stay with family during the holidays but return to her own place afterward. She planned to furnish it gradually—a desk, a bookshelf (for approved materials), and a locked cabinet to discreetly store things.

*Next day off, I’ll sell my stock in the city.*

Then there was her second brother and fourth sister returning for the holiday. She’d met the sister, who was straightforward and decisive—especially in dealing with Liang Yong.

But she hadn’t met the second brother and his wife.

They were sent-down youths. Her brother was tall and had long admired his wife, who came from a wealthy family. When her father was politically targeted, he seized the chance to accompany her to the countryside, eventually winning her over.

It was a bit opportunistic, but as a former admirer, his strategy had worked.

*What’s his wife like?* Once a pampered young lady, had hardship changed her?

Probably. Her brother couldn’t shield her completely.

*Will their love last?* Yu Xiang’an wasn’t sure. The wife’s feelings might not run as deep. If her father was rehabilitated, would she still stay?

Her background meant she could marry someone “better.”

If that happened, her brother would be heartbroken.

Yu Xiang’an had never been in love, so she didn’t fully understand such devotion.

*He’s loved her since middle school—that’s deep. Losing her after having her would hurt even more.*

She’d observe them when they returned.

Then there was the New Year’s visit to their hometown. Yu Manchang had learned brickmaking and would soon return to experiment. Her father was still refining his papermaking technique, waiting to share it with the family.

Two people ahead chatted about making rice cakes, so Yu Xiang’an noted it down.

Her family usually sent ingredients to the Qins, who made delicious rice cakes.

This year would be the same.

Her thoughts drifted until she nearly dozed off—staying awake at this hour was hard.

Normally, Yu Qingshan wouldn’t send his daughter, but she was the only one free today. The crowd was familiar, so safety wasn’t an issue—just exhaustion.

At dawn, the store still hadn’t opened. Looking back, the line now stretched out of sight.

Those at the front stayed put—leaving risked losing their spot to line-cutters.

When the doors finally opened, staff enforced order: *”Don’t rush! Only these groups enter first. The rest wait!”*

Yu Xiang’an, near the front, was in the first wave.

The first things she bought were sugar, oil, and biscuits, followed by rice and flour, and finally other coarse grains.

No wonder it was the New Year’s supply—far more abundant than usual.

Freshly delivered red dates? Buy.

Rarely available malted milk powder that wasn’t out of stock? Buy.

Condensed milk? Buy.

She splurged extravagantly, yet no one batted an eye because everyone was doing the same. After saving up ration coupons all year, if they didn’t spend them now, when would they?

Whether this New Year would be bountiful depended entirely on today’s haul.

With so many purchases, Yu Xiang’an naturally couldn’t carry them all back. After finally squeezing her way out of the crowd, she stood to the side. Yu Xiangju and Yu Mingjie were already waiting at the entrance. When they saw her emerge, they cheered and ran over.

“Fifth Sister, you’re here!”

Yu Mingjie added, “Auntie, I’ll go find Dad and the others.”

He was going to fetch help to carry everything back. There was no way Yu Xiang’an and two kids could manage it alone.

Before long, Yu Xianghai arrived. Seeing the pile of goods on the ground, he gave her a thumbs-up. “Xiao An, impressive!”

Yu Xiang’an was too exhausted to speak.

Jostling through the crowd, pushed along even if she didn’t move—it wasn’t a pleasant memory.

Yu Xianghai understood without her saying more. “Go home and rest well today.”

By the time Yu Xiang’an woke from her nap, it was already afternoon.

The items Yu Xianghai had bought that day were haphazardly piled in Yu Qingshan’s room, waiting to be sorted properly when everyone returned.

Yu Xiang’an picked out some red dates.

The sight of them made her crave date cake.

She soaked a portion of the dates for half an hour, removed the pits, tore them into small pieces, and boiled them into a paste. Then she added sugar, eggs, and a bit of oil, stirring continuously.

Without an electric mixer, she had to do it manually.

Her arms ached from the effort, and she missed the convenience of a mixer dearly.

Once the mixture was ready, she folded in flour, stirred until smooth, poured it into a tray, and steamed it.

When Yu Mingjie and Yu Xiangju returned, they were greeted by the aroma of freshly baked date cake.

“!!!”

A huge surprise!

Yu Mingjie took a bite, moved to tears. “Auntie, this tastes even better than store-bought!”

Yu Xiangju begged, “Fifth Sister, it’s so delicious! Can I have another piece?” His eyes shone with hope.

Yu Xiang’an “mercilessly” shook her head. “You’ve already had one. The rest is for everyone to share.”

With the New Year approaching, people tended to be more generous. The date cake was both delicious and nutritious, suitable for all ages. She thought selling it might even be a good business idea.

When Yu Qingshan and the others returned, they unanimously praised her date cake.

Yu Qingshan said, “When we visit your grandfather for the New Year, make some to bring along.”

Older folks with weaker teeth preferred soft pastries like this.

Yu Xiang’an smiled and agreed. “I can also make sponge cake. Should I make both?”

Yu Qingshan hesitated for a second. “Is it just as soft?”

“Yes.”

“Then make half of each.”

*

When word spread that Yu Xiang’an would be going to the city on her next day off, both Yan Yuzhen and Song Shujing asked for her help.

If she saw red scarves or red yarn at the department store, would she bring some back for them?

The night before her trip, she stayed up late preparing date cakes and other goods to sell the next day. Just as she had fallen asleep, she was abruptly awakened.

Loud shouting erupted from Master Bao’s house next door, followed by the sound of shattering dishes.

Yu Xiang’an sat up halfway, straining to listen.

A shrill, aged female voice screeched, “It’s all because of you! If you’re sickly, don’t drag my son down with you! You’re just afraid you’ll have no one to rely on without him, clinging to him like a leech! You’ve corrupted him—he used to listen to me, but now he refuses to help his own brother, making excuses left and right! You’re nothing but a money-sucking invalid, wasting all his earnings!”

“If you had any decency, you’d leave him alone and stop being a burden!”

Yu Xiang’an: “…”

From the sound of it, that must be Master Bao’s mother.

Then came Master Bao’s voice: “Mom, enough! What are you saying? Keep your voice down—”

The argument dropped to a murmur, and Yu Xiang’an couldn’t make out the rest. She lay back down and tried to sleep.

This was clearly a family matter, and with Master Bao present, it wouldn’t escalate.

She wasn’t the only neighbor. The next morning at the canteen, Yan Yuzhen pulled her aside to ask how much she’d heard.

Yu Xiang’an shook her head. “I was sound asleep. Didn’t hear a thing. What happened?”

“You missed it? I heard from others that Master Bao’s parents came and seemed really upset with Sister Song, blaming her for holding their son back and not giving them enough support money.”

Yu Xiang’an: “…How do you know all this, Zhenjie?”

“Ah, this isn’t the first time. Once, they even made a scene at the factory, demanding half his salary go straight to them. Of course, we refused—they’re already separated, not even on the same household register.”

Yu Xiang’an was stunned. “That actually happened?”

“Absolutely. Not their first rodeo.”

“Why would they do that?”

It would only damage Master Bao’s reputation at work.

Yan Yuzhen quickly finished her last spoonful of porridge. “Back then, Master Bao’s family was poor. He was practically a live-in son-in-law—they agreed the second son would take the Song family name. Sister Song was an only child, and her family was better off. Her father helped them a lot when they got married. But later, her parents fell ill, spent all their savings on treatment, and passed away. Once the money was gone, Master Bao’s parents regretted the arrangement and started looking down on her. Rumor has it, when they all lived together, they treated Sister Song terribly. Thankfully, Master Bao has a conscience.”

Yu Xiang’an frowned repeatedly as she listened. They were fine with the help when it benefited them, but now that the well had run dry, they showed their true colors.

She shook her head. Even just hearing Yan Yuzhen’s account, she could tell this was likely the truth. “Let’s not dwell on it. I’ve got a bus to catch. See you later.”

Yan Yuzhen nodded. “Don’t forget to check for those items for me!”

Yu Xiang’an: “I remember. Don’t worry.”

Yu Xiang’an went to the city to sell her goods and shop, bustling with energy. Meanwhile, Lin Chuanbai’s mood, which had been fine, took a nosedive when he returned home to find an “unwelcome guest.”

The visitor arrived bearing gifts, and Xu Haili was exceedingly warm—thanks to the presents and his well-dressed appearance.

The man’s clothes had only a token patch, he wore a wristwatch, and his shoes were leather. He brought malted milk powder, powdered milk, and even a roast chicken—all signs of his “wealth.”

Naturally, such a guest was treated with courtesy. When he asked for Lin Chuanbai, someone was immediately sent to fetch him. To avoid making him wait, Xu Haili even unlocked her personal stash of pastries to serve him.

Lin Chuanbai had been working in the pharmacy when he was abruptly summoned home. The vague message made him fear something had happened, so he hurried back—only to freeze at the sight of the visitor’s smug smile.

It was Feng Jiaye.

An old high school classmate of the original host. After graduation, through family connections, Feng Jiaye landed a job at the grain store and had since been promoted to director at a young age.

At his age, such a position was undoubtedly nepotism at work.

Since his promotion, Feng Jiaye had taken great pleasure in writing letters to Lin Chuanbai. If not for the distance, Lin Chuanbai suspected he’d have shown up in person to flaunt his success.

Every letter began with feigned concern—asking how he was, if life was treating him well—before devoting three-fourths of the space to self-praise: how hard he worked, how respected he was, how much he’d achieved. The closing lines always “sympathized” with Lin Chuanbai’s misfortune—how he’d been cheated out of university, forced back to this small town, doomed to languish, etc.

It was nauseatingly insincere.

Lin Chuanbai felt exhausted. Had letters no longer sufficed?

Now he’d come all the way to his home!

Feng Jiaye’s first words were a greeting. For his second line, he lifted his chin. “I came to share good news. Want to hear it?”

Lin Chuanbai deadpanned, “No.”

Feng Jiaye’s enthusiasm dimmed. What kind of reaction was that? He’d always been unpleasant, but now he was worse. This was genuinely good news, and he’d traveled all this way to deliver it personally—only to be met with indifference.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he grew. He stood abruptly, pretending to leave. “If you’re not interested, fine. I’ll go.”

Lin Chuanbai smiled. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

Feng Jiaye froze.

Had he heard that right?!