Chapter 47:

Yu Xiang’an spoke a great deal. Normally, she deliberately restrained herself from dwelling too much on people and events from the past, but this birthday, her emotions needed an outlet.

She wanted to talk about her family from back then with someone. She didn’t need anyone to offer opinions—just a silent listener. After much thought, he was the most suitable choice. He understood what she was saying, wouldn’t dismiss her as crazy or foolish, and could empathize with her emotions.

She didn’t explicitly say that she had a harmonious relationship with her family, but between her words, it was evident.

Suddenly finding herself in this world must have been unsettling.

Given the circumstances, Lin Chuanbai thought it was impressive how quickly she had adapted to life here.

He was different—he had no attachments.

Yu Xiang’an wasn’t sure how long she had been talking, but by the time she finished, the two of them had polished off the dishes, milk tea, and cake she had prepared.

Lin Chuanbai listened quietly for a long time, seemingly waiting for her to finish, before finally speaking about himself without offering any commentary.

In his previous life, he hadn’t had many relatives—just an old Taoist priest who had adopted him and put him through school.

The old priest was eccentric, knowledgeable in a little bit of everything. People often invited him to perform rituals to ward off evil spirits, and he even treated minor ailments. It was through these earnings that he managed to send Lin Chuanbai to university. However, less than a year into his studies, the old priest suddenly fell ill and passed away.

After that, Lin Chuanbai threw himself entirely into his studies, focusing solely on school. In his free time, he rewarded himself—his way of treating himself was indulging in good food. He recounted his experiences exploring the eateries around campus.

“I really loved the spicy hot pot place at the corner of the snack street. Every time I went, I’d order dozens of yuan worth—their beef balls were so chewy, and the broth had an unforgettable depth of flavor. And the bakery next door? I was a regular, always buying bread and cakes to take back for breakfast.”

“There was a mobile vendor at the south gate selling Shaanxi-style cold skin noodles. He didn’t come every day, but whenever he did, there’d be a long line.”

“…Right before coming here, I’d just visited a newly opened restaurant. Their signature five-colored meatballs were amazing—I was already planning to go back for seconds.”

Yu Xiang’an had now become the listener. But as she listened, she grew increasingly surprised. When he finished, she asked, “Wait—were you at X University?”

Lin Chuanbai: “??!!”

Turns out, they were alumni!

And the five-colored meatballs he’d eaten before coming here? They were the signature dish from her private kitchen—meaning he’d tasted her cooking before even arriving in this world.

What kind of fate was this?!

The two of them sat in stunned silence for a long moment before suddenly bursting into laughter.

“Hahahahaha!”

“Hahahaha!”

For a moment, they laughed like fools.

After that, their relationship seemed unchanged on the surface—still just a chef-and-customer dynamic. But both knew something had shifted. Occasionally, they’d vent to each other about their lives, and their interactions gradually evolved into friendship.

Yu Xiang’an learned that while Lin Chuanbai was usually reserved, once he started venting, he could go on endlessly.

“I know exactly what my second aunt is thinking, but what does that have to do with me? My cousin just doesn’t want to study medicine—the sight of it gives him a headache. He’s not interested, and she can’t force him. But seeing me smoothly land a job, she’s been resentful. I’m innocent here! It’s not a huge issue, but her snide remarks and petty actions are just annoying.”

“If the county hospital had single dormitories, I’d have moved out long ago. Or if they had housing purchase options like your factory, I’d buy a place and live alone.”

“My grandfather can’t stand her either, but as the father-in-law, he can’t keep scolding her. My grandmother passed early, and my second uncle is a man of few words—sometimes not speaking a single word all day. My second aunt runs the household, big and small—he has no say.”

“Thankfully, my cousin isn’t like her. He’s sensible—otherwise, the headache would be ten times worse.”

“My second aunt just can’t relax. If she doesn’t hold something in her hands, she’s afraid it’s fake. My grandfather has already talked to her, and she nods along, but the moment she sees me at work, she’s green with envy. She probably won’t truly rest easy until my cousin gets a job. But if his job isn’t as good as mine, she’ll still make a fuss. Thinking about it, moving out really is the better option.”

“Having your own place is really great. Nowadays, people don’t value privacy much—having your own private space is such a luxury.”

Yu Xiang’an would also share things from her own life. “The day before yesterday, I went out with Deputy Director Wang and ran into someone causing a scene at another factory. She claimed her partner was injured on the job and demanded the factory take responsibility. She even dragged us into it, asking us to judge—like we knew anything about it! She threw a full-blown tantrum—rolling on the ground, the works. I was shocked—it was my first time seeing the legendary ‘make a scene, cry hysterically, threaten to hang yourself’ routine in real life. She actually brought a rope and pretended to hang herself!”

She was utterly astonished.

“Then the story took a turn. Turns out, her partner had been negligent at work and caused significant losses. She’d conveniently left that part out earlier…”

*

Their bond deepened, and they became more considerate of each other’s needs. Yu Xiang’an now put even more care into the dishes she prepared for Lin Chuanbai—he was, after all, her customer, both in the past and present.

Lin Chuanbai ate with immense satisfaction and, in return, fulfilled Yu Xiang’an’s request by giving her some ginseng. He also paid closer attention to her sister-in-law’s condition.

Their friendship progressed rapidly, and Yu Qingbao’s progress wasn’t lagging behind either. Yu Qingshan taught him at home, and when Yu Qingshan was at work, Yu Qingbao practiced on his own. When Yu Qingshan returned, the brothers would work together.

With Yu Qingshan’s thorough guidance, Yu Qingbao quickly mastered the craft. Returning to Hongxing Brigade, he gathered a team and began papermaking. The father and son now operated in two separate locations, and their family’s reputation soared.

The first batch of bricks exchanged for work points had already been used to build houses. The results were tangible, but now, with the paper, they couldn’t exchange it for work points. The team leader explained that this was for sale, and the profits would be distributed later.

Everyone was excited—money was better! It could buy many things, whereas coarse paper wasn’t a necessity for them.

When the first batch was completed, Yu Shengwen took it to market.

They had already secured approval.

The first sale was facilitated by Ye Qijia’s connections at the county supply and marketing cooperative.

With this successful start, Yu Shengwen grew more confident. While Ye Qijia’s help was crucial, if their paper hadn’t been up to standard, the deal wouldn’t have gone so smoothly—there hadn’t even been any haggling.

Encouraged, he pressed on.

Their prices were lower than the original suppliers’, so in the absence of conflicting interests, buyers naturally chose their paper.

To rally support and accelerate the workshop’s upgrade to a factory, Yu Shengwen distributed a portion of the profits a month later.

The distribution was based on work points—those who contributed more earned more, and those who contributed less earned less.

This instantly boosted everyone’s motivation. Hard work not only earned them food rations and bricks for houses but now also cash. What reason did they have to slack off?

The amount this time was small, but considering how quickly they’d seen returns, imagine what a year’s earnings would look like!

Life was looking brighter.

Things were unfolding as Yu Shengwen had hoped.

Yu Qingshan, observing the progress, was also pleased.

If all went well, it wouldn’t be long before his second son and fourth daughter could return.

Of the two, he’d prioritize bringing his daughter back first.

Being away from home, a young woman needed more care. His son, at least, had his wife and brother-in-law—there was less immediate worry.

By now, Ye Qijia had entered her final trimester. Twins often arrived early, so extra caution was necessary.

With her advanced pregnancy, Ye Qijia moved into the Yu family home. Zhao Qiaoniang, having failed to find temporary work this year, took care of her.

Though the era glorified labor, Ye Qijia’s special circumstances earned her early leave with her supervisor’s approval.

This was something Yu Xiang’an disapproved of. The current ethos encouraged self-sacrifice—there had even been a case where a heavily pregnant worker stayed on duty until she gave birth on the job. By sheer luck and her robust health, nothing went wrong, and she was hailed as a model worker, praised for her dedication.

Such role models were playing with lives.

Ye Qijia went into labor at night.

Yu Xianghai, jolted awake, immediately roused Yu Qingshan and the others. Since the doctor’s estimated due date hadn’t arrived, they hadn’t hospitalized her in advance—no one expected the early delivery.

Panicked, Yu Xianghai could only hover anxiously by Ye Qijia’s side until Yu Qingshan took charge, instructing him to carry her to a borrowed cart.

Yu Xianghai was too frazzled to push, so Yu Qingshan took over while Yu Xianghai walked alongside, murmuring reassurances—though it was unclear who was comforting whom.

Zhao Qiaoniang followed later with a bundle of clothes and food.

Yu Xiang’an accompanied them to the hospital. In his state, Yu Xianghai was useless—like a blindfolded ox, panicking and directionless.

Only when the doctor arrived and Ye Qijia was wheeled into the delivery room did Yu Xiang’an turn to Yu Qingshan. “I should notify Big Sister-in-law’s family.”

They’d insisted on being informed the moment labor started, no matter the hour.

Yu Qingshan glanced at the dark night outside, uneasy about his daughter walking alone. “I’ll go. You stay here.” He handed her money from his pocket. “Use this if needed.”

His eldest son was in no state to remember such things.

Since this was Ye Qijia’s second delivery, it progressed slightly smoother than most twin births.

Yu Xianghai sat dazedly outside the door, staring blankly until he suddenly jolted. “Where are Mingjie and Xiao Ju?”

Yu Xiang’an reassured him. “They’re still asleep at home. Don’t worry—someone’s watching them.” Once Ye Qijia’s family arrived, she’d head back, and Zhao Qiaoniang would take over.

Soon, Yu Qingshan returned with the in-laws, who’d rushed over in disheveled clothing, their worry palpable.

With them there, Yu Xiang’an excused herself to return home.

She had work the next day. Yu Xianghai and Yu Qingshan would handle her leave. They couldn’t all stay—Yu Xianghai and Zhao Qiaoniang would remain, while the others would visit during breaks.

Preoccupied, Yu Xiang’an was distracted all morning but managed without mistakes.

She should’ve trusted the doctor’s regular check-ups—nothing would go wrong.

Not long after she left at noon, the first baby arrived—a boy.

Half an hour later, the second—a girl—was born.

Compared to her brother, she weighed less than four pounds and needed observation.

Heartbreakingly tiny, but both mother and babies were safe. The doctor assured them that with care, she’d be fine.

Relieved, the family relaxed.

“Dragon-phoenix twins—how rare!”

“Truly!”

Yu Mingjie strained to peek inside. “When can I see my brother and sister?”

The doctor, in good spirits, replied, “You’ll see your brother soon. Your sister needs a little more time.”

Yu Xiangju also stood on tiptoe. “I want to see my nephew and niece too! I’m their uncle!”

Though close in age to Mingjie, he was a generation older.

That evening, Yu Xiang’an finally saw the newborns.

The brother weighed nearly five pounds; the sister, just under four.

Newborns were never pretty—wrinkled, red, and squinting.

Ye Qijia woke briefly to glance at them before exhaustion pulled her back under.

The birth had been grueling. She stayed hospitalized for seven days, with a steady stream of nourishing meals that made other mothers envious.

Many were prepared by Yu Xiang’an, paid for by Yu Xianghai. She even consulted Lin Chuanbai to incorporate beneficial herbs.

Ye Qijia had a fairly good constitution, and with proper nutrition, she recovered significantly within a few days and was able to return home to continue her postpartum confinement. However, her newborn daughter wasn’t ready yet and had to remain in the hospital for further observation.

Since she needed care during her confinement, Zhao Qiaoniang took on the responsibility, while Ye Qijia’s own mother kept an eye on the baby at the hospital. She spent her confinement period at the Yu family home.

By the time her confinement ended, Ye Qijia hadn’t lost any of the weight she’d gained during pregnancy. To ensure she could breastfeed both children, she consumed plenty of lactation-boosting foods. After her confinement, she gifted Zhao Qiaoniang a new set of clothes—after all, taking care of a newborn during confinement was no easy task.

Later, the two children moved back to the factory with her, where her mother stayed to help look after them. With her confinement over, Ye Qijia regained her energy, and with two adults plus the older brother, Yu Mingjie, they could manage the two little ones.

As the baby girl gradually grew, Yu Xiang’an noticed that the little one, named Yu Mingyao, bore a striking resemblance to her—or rather, to her elder sister from her previous life! What a strange coincidence! Because of this, she couldn’t help but show the little girl extra affection.

No one found this odd, though, since the girl was frail, and everyone naturally doted on her more. If both siblings cried from hunger at the same time, she was always fed first. Only after she was full would her brother get his turn.

Her brother had a voracious appetite, while she ate very little. Ye Qijia barely managed to keep them both fed, but it was clear that as they grew and their appetites increased, they’d need formula.

Infants were allotted formula coupons, so they could get some for the time being, but supplies might become scarce later. Most children could start eating solid foods by six months, and Ye Qijia had already planned for it—her son would gradually transition to solids, reducing his milk intake, while her daughter’s diet would depend on her acceptance. If she refused solids, feeding just one child breast milk wouldn’t be as demanding.

With the arrival of the younger siblings, both Yu Mingjie and Yu Xiangju seemed to mature noticeably. At seven and six years old, they were old enough to understand some responsibilities. In those days, families often had many children, and the older ones naturally helped care for the younger ones—it was just how things were.

While they couldn’t be trusted to look after Mingyao yet, little Yu Mingfeng was no problem. Most of the time, the babies were left on the bed to play by themselves. If they cried, someone would soothe them or change their diapers; if they were hungry, they’d be taken to their mother.

Watching this routine, Yu Xiang’an thought to herself, *”…”*

Thinking back, the original host’s memories also included plenty of experiences looking after Yu Xiangju and Yu Mingjie. In large families, this was the norm—otherwise, how would adults find time to work and earn money?

Only when the children were very young and still breastfeeding did they require more attention. Now that Mingyao seemed as healthy as any other baby, Ye Qijia returned to work. She breastfed them in the morning, her mother took them for another feeding during the day, and she came back at noon for another session.

By the time they turned one, they’d be mostly independent. Some younger children grew up entirely under the care of their older siblings.

Comparing this to modern times, where kids of the same age might be unruly or even need parents to chase them around to eat, the contrast was stark.

*…The children of the poor grow up fast.*

***

Lin Chuanbai knew about Yu Xiang’an’s niece resembling her elder sister from her past life. He understood the sentiment.

Even if she wasn’t the same person, seeing a familiar face and knowing she was doing well brought a sense of comfort—much like how he felt when he saw Lin Duzhong, who bore a resemblance to the old Taoist priest.

He pulled out a pound of sesame seeds from the sack he’d brought and handed them to Yu Xiang’an, who accepted them gratefully.

These were for making sesame cakes. He often got hungry in the afternoon, and having snacks on hand helped.

“Your niece is doing fine now, right?”

Yu Xiang’an smiled. “She’s all right.”

Children were prone to illnesses, especially those with weaker constitutions. Fortunately, it was nothing serious. She’d been giving her small doses of spiritual spring water, which seemed to help.

“Do you want wild boar meat? A friend of mine from his production brigade hunted over a dozen boars that were destroying crops. Some were sold to the procurement station, and the rest were distributed among the villagers. If you’re interested, I can ask him to save some for you.”

Yu Xiang’an didn’t hesitate. “Yes!”

Wild boar meat might be tougher, but with the right preparation, it could be just as delicious.

“Great. I’ll see you here tomorrow then. By the way, I saw your article in the newspaper—well written.” He made a habit of reading the papers every few days. “This is your second one recently.”

Yu Xiang’an felt a little embarrassed. “The more I write, the easier it gets.”

That was why more of her articles were being published.

“I also wrote a piece praising our factory, and it got published too. From what the director hinted, I might be in the running for an annual excellence award this year.”

She hadn’t planned to mention it since nothing was certain yet—she didn’t want to seem presumptuous if it didn’t happen. But the words slipped out anyway.

“That’s great. You must have been performing well, plus you’ve brought recognition to the factory. If your supervisor said so, it’s probably true.”

Being recognized as an outstanding worker was significant—it came with rewards, enhanced reputation, and could even influence housing allocations.

“It’d be nice to get it, but if not, it’s fine.” Yu Xiang’an wasn’t too invested. She didn’t plan to stay at the factory long enough for another housing assignment anyway.

Once the college entrance exams resumed, she intended to move on to bigger opportunities.

The world outside was far more expansive.

“You love cooking, right? I went to the city the other day and happened to find these two recipe books at a bookstore. Thought you might like them.”

Originally, he’d gone to buy picture books for Yuanyuan, but for some reason, he remembered this and asked the clerk to help find them.

Yu Xiang’an took them and flipped through the pages, her face lighting up. “There are quite a few recipes here I haven’t seen before. Thank you!”

Given their relationship, refusing the books would be unnecessary. She’d find a way to return the favor later—keeping everything strictly even would only create distance.

Seeing her pleased, Lin Chuanbai relaxed. “Glad you like them.”

His effort hadn’t been in vain.

“I know you enjoy reading recipes, but don’t forget about math and politics. If you let them slip now, it’ll be hard to catch up later.”

Both of them planned to take the college entrance exams.

Yu Xiang’an: *”…”*

She had no rebuttal.

He was right—keeping up with occasional review would make it easier to regain lost knowledge later. But… well, interest truly was the best teacher.

No matter how dry a recipe book was, she could read it with relish.

Math and politics, on the other hand…

Especially politics, which was heavily influenced by the era’s ideology. One misstep in the exams could spell disaster.

Suddenly, two small heads popped up from the side. Spotting the two of them from a distance, they shouted, “Fifth Sister! Fifth Sister!”

Yu Xiang’an turned. It was Yu Xiangju and Yu Mingjie.

“What brings you here at this hour?” She usually stayed at her factory dormitory during workdays, cooking her own dinner. Since it was mealtime, their arrival likely meant something was up.

“Uncle’s here! Dad sent us to call you back. Big Brother’s waiting at the intersection near your place. We asked around, and someone said they saw you heading this way.”

Lin Chuanbai nodded. “I’ll head off then.”

“Alright.”

“Is there a reason Uncle came over now?”

“He came with Manwu-ge to deliver wild boar meat. We’re having wild boar for dinner!”

“Oh.” So Hongxing Brigade had also hunted wild boars.

“By the way, Fifth Sister, who was that just now? Your boyfriend? Were you two secretly dating like in the movies?” Yu Xiangju’s big, innocent eyes sparkled with curiosity.

*”Cough, cough!”*

Yu Xiang’an choked on her own breath.