Yu Xiang’an’s class has a total of 32 students, including 10 girls.
All the dormitories are in the same building. Six people live in Room 201 on the second floor, and three others are in Room 202, which is a six-person room.
If Yu Xiang’an were also staying in the dorm, there would be two female students from other classes mixed in, but currently, there are three.
These three are from the Foreign Languages Department.
Yu Xiang’an carefully observed the living conditions at the time. The building was old, with some peeling paint, but it was still habitable. Inside, there were bunk beds and a shared three-tiered cabinet where students could store clothes or valuables—it could even be locked.
Under the beds were shoes and miscellaneous items. Though the dorm was old, it was kept clean and tidy since it was a girls’ dormitory.
Liu Mingyue and Ke Manyun shared a dormitory, coincidentally sleeping on bunk beds—Ke Manyun on the top bunk and Liu Mingyue on the bottom.
From their bedding, one could easily deduce their living conditions. Liu Mingyue was relatively well-off; her bedsheet had only one patch, she wore leather shoes, and she had a wristwatch.
Ke Manyun was also doing well—her bedsheet was brand new, her clothes only had patches on the cuffs, and she wore a pair of new leather shoes.
It wasn’t hard to imagine Liu Mingyue’s comfortable life. She was a full-time worker who had earned a monthly salary before being admitted to university. Her spouse was also a worker, suggesting her family might be working-class. Ke Manyun didn’t mention being a worker, but her family seemed well-off.
Among the girls, the oldest was Liu Mingyue, while the youngest was Wang Meng, an 18-year-old local from the capital’s suburbs, which was why she stayed in the dorm.
The most visibly well-equipped was Xu Keke, a Shanghainese who wore a ladies’ wristwatch, had a full set of skincare products on her bedside table, and wore a fitted long dress. However, she was also the most aloof, appearing somewhat haughty. After returning to the dorm, she would sit on her bed flipping through books, lowering her mosquito net as if signaling “do not disturb.”
Yu Xiang’an spent the entire noon in these two dormitories, gaining a rough understanding of her female classmates.
Her knowledge was still superficial—mostly about their origins, marital status, and whether they had worked before the college entrance exam.
By the time the conversation wrapped up, the lunch break was over, and it was time for class.
As soon as class started, the teacher bombarded them with a flood of knowledge points. Thinking of relaxing?
Not unless you already had a solid foundation.
By the time school ended in the afternoon, Yu Xiang’an’s head felt heavy from concentrating all day.
She packed her things and went to pick up the kids from the daycare. On the way, she ran into Lin Chuanbai and asked, “How was your first day?”
They had started school on the same day.
Lin Chuanbai nodded. “The teachers are truly knowledgeable. Just a brief lecture today, but I learned a lot.”
His eyes gleamed slightly.
“The professor teaching us is a renowned doctor—I’ve heard my grandfather mention him…”
As they walked, Lin Chuanbai remembered something. “Let’s go check out bicycles another day. Not having one is inconvenient.”
“Right, we should buy bicycles.” It would save a lot of time.
They had the money and the ration coupons for it.
When they arrived at the daycare, Lin Yihong and Lin Yining were waiting eagerly in the classroom. Most of the other children had already left—only two remained besides them.
Lin Yining pouted when she saw them. “Mom, Dad, you’re so late!”
Yu Xiang’an pinched Lin Yining’s cheek. “We’re sorry, but we have classes too. If we finish early, we’ll come sooner next time.”
Lin Chuanbai took Lin Yihong’s hand. “How was playing with the other kids today? Did anyone bully you?”
Lin Yihong shook his head. “No one bullied us.”
Lin Yining, her round face beaming, chirped, “We played with friends! The teacher taught us to count ducks today—they were so cute, yellow ones! I counted to ten, and the teacher praised me!” She looked proud, as if begging for more praise.
Lin Yihong touched his forehead. “I was the fastest counter. The teacher gave me a little red flower.” He pointed to the red paper flower on his forehead, proud. “Only the top three who answered the fastest got one. I was second.”
Lin Yining looked enviously at her brother’s flower. She wanted one too, but she was a beat slower, ranking fifth. “I didn’t get a flower, but the teacher still said I did great! Some kids couldn’t even count past three.”
The two chattered nonstop about their day at daycare. Back home, Yu Xiang’an had Lin Chuanbai boil water while she organized her classmates’ information. She wrote down everything she remembered, especially about the girls—sorted by dorm and age.
In Room 201:
1. Liu Mingyue (oldest, from the Northeast, married, three kids, employed, acting dorm leader)
2. Zhuo Lanlan (sent-down youth, unmarried)
3. Zhang Yuexin (married with children, sent-down youth)
4. Xu Keke (from Shanghai, unmarried)
5. Ke Manyun (sent-down youth)
6. Wang Meng (fresh high school graduate)
In Room 202:
1. Zhang Yingqi (oldest, employed, married with children, acting dorm leader)
2. Chen Shaohong (worker, unmarried)
3. Sun Hui (fresh high school graduate)
The remaining three were from the Foreign Languages Department—all young, including a pair of sisters who had both gotten into university. Quite a coincidence.
Seeing her organizing this, Lin Chuanbai asked, “Why are you noting all this?”
Yu Xiang’an looked up. “Because of my grades, the homeroom teacher made me acting vice monitor. The girls are supposed to come to me if they have issues, so I need a general idea.” *Cough*—and also to see if any of them were famous figures she might recognize. But no, none stood out. Unless they were household names, she wouldn’t know them anyway.
“Acting vice monitor?”
“Yeah.” Since no one knew each other well, the teacher picked based on grades.
Truthfully, she wasn’t the best fit—since she didn’t live on campus, they couldn’t easily reach her if something came up.
“Do you want to make it permanent?”
Yu Xiang’an thought for a moment. “Let’s see how my classmates are first.”
If they were decent and the workload manageable, being a class officer could benefit her future.
Right now, they were here for university—no side hustles yet, since reforms hadn’t begun.
Whether you were a dragon or a tiger, you had to lie low and wait for the right moment.
Being a class officer meant people would have to interact with her more, whether they wanted to or not.
While she organized, Lin Chuanbai finished boiling water. He had borrowed fire from their neighbor, Granny Zhang, to light the stove. One issue here was the difficulty of bathing.
Their situation was relatively good—there was a public bathhouse a kilometer away where they could soak. In summer, they could manage at home.
But having their own house would be much more convenient.
Building a house also depended on water sources. Water was scarce here—if there was no well, the land they bought might not yield water. Running water wasn’t widespread yet either; only a few had access.
Lin Chuanbai first bathed the kids with hot water, while Yu Xiang’an used the freed-up stove to cook.
She made a pot of claypot rice—washed rice mixed with salted fish, cured meat, dried vegetables, soy sauce, and shredded ginger, topped with scallions. The aroma was irresistible.
After the rice was done, she quickly whipped up a small pot of egg drop soup in the same pot.
While eating, the stove continued boiling water for Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai to shower.
Behind the kitchen was a tiny, partitioned space—just over a square meter—cramped but unavoidable.
They couldn’t use too much water either, since Lin Chuanbai had to carry it all from the well. Though it wasn’t far, hauling too much was exhausting.
At the dinner table, Lin Yihong and Lin Yining sat excitedly, waiting to eat.
*So fragrant! So hungry!*
Yu Xiang’an set out the bowls and chopsticks. “What did you have for lunch today?”
Lin Yining: “We had congee and yellow buns!”
Lin Yihong added: “Cornmeal buns.”
“What else? Did the teacher make you drink plenty of water?”
Lin Yining: “I drank two bowls! There were mung beans in it.”
Lin Yihong: “And a small bowl of egg drop soup. Mine had egg bits.”
Yu Xiang’an nodded. “Egg drop soup too? That’s good.”
Lin Yihong: “The teacher said tomorrow we each get an egg for lunch.”
“Really? That’s wonderful…”
As the family enjoyed the fragrant claypot rice, Granny Jiang next door sniffed the air. “They’re having cured meat tonight—smells amazing. We still have a bit left; let’s cook ours tomorrow.”
Hearing this, her grandchildren cheered. “Granny’s the best! We’re having cured meat too!”
Granny Jiang patted their heads, smiling. “Yes, we’ll have something delicious too.”
With the rental income supplementing their budget, they could afford better meals now.
*Look how well those two kids are raised.* Their own family wasn’t doing too badly—no need to skimp on the children.
After dinner, they played with the twins under the lamplight before bathing. While showering in the cramped space, Yu Xiang’an sighed inwardly. *We can’t rely entirely on others. Once we’ve settled into school, we’ll scout around for a better place.*
After all, they’d be here for years.
—
The next morning’s first class was again taught by Professor Wu Zhusheng. He arrived early, as did most students, and handed out subsidies. He gave a list to monitor Wang Haiwen and had Yu Xiang’an help distribute them.
At this time, university students received subsidies.
Men and women didn’t get exactly the same—men typically ate more, so they received slightly more grain coupons. Overall, the difference was minor. With careful budgeting, some money and coupons could be saved each month.
University wasn’t just free—it came with subsidies *and* guaranteed job assignments after graduation. Such perks only existed when educated talent was scarce. Later, as more students flooded in, these benefits gradually disappeared.
After adjusting to campus life for a few days, Yu Xiang’an took out stationery to write letters.
She wanted to update everyone on her situation and reassure them.
After finishing a letter to Yu Xiangqing, her pen paused. University start dates varied—Yu Xiangyan’s was later. They were probably on their way now.
If they came, they’d likely visit her at school.
Both husband and wife were attending university here, but unlike Yu Xiang’an, they had left their children back home. Their financial foundation wasn’t as solid—daycare and rent would add up monthly. Unsure of expenses, they hadn’t dared bring their three kids along.
For now, the children were with their great-grandmother, Zhang Guihua, who was healthy enough to manage. The youngest could already walk, and the older ones helped with the little ones. They sent money annually to cover living costs—a temporary arrangement.
If Yu Xiangyan found side income here to ease their finances, he planned to bring the children over.
Yu Xiang’an also wrote to Gao Yimei and Yan Yu. When news of her university admission spread, both had sent congratulatory letters and gifts. Now that she was settled, she owed them an update.
She also wrote to her former manager, Liu Qing, and others.
Her hand grew sore from writing. She slipped postcards, newspaper clippings, and photos into the envelopes before mailing them.
Her family back home would surely find these novelties fascinating. Since they couldn’t see the capital’s sights in person, pictures would have to suffice for now.
Lin Chuanbai helped seal the envelopes with paste. Seeing the landmarks reminded him: “We haven’t had time to explore yet.”
Yu Xiang’an: “Let’s postpone it. We’ll be here long enough—plenty of time later.”
The day after mailing the letters, Yu Xiang’an spotted a familiar figure after class. Surprised, she called out, “Manager Liu? What are you doing here?”
Liu Hengbo chuckled. “Didn’t I say we’d meet again if fate allowed?”
Yu Xiang’an: “You work here now?”
“Yep. I’m a teacher here.”
Yu Xiang’an clapped her hands. “Oh no—I just mailed a letter to you yesterday!”
Liu Hengbo waved it off. “It’s probably already sent. No matter. My alma mater invited me to teach. I hadn’t decided earlier, so I didn’t mention it.”
Yu Xiang’an was pleasantly surprised: “Manager, is this your alma mater?”
“Yes.”
“So, you’re teaching in the history department now?”
“That’s right.”
Yu Xiang’an rubbed her forehead: “Manager, why didn’t you mention this earlier?”
“Hahaha, wanted to surprise you. When I found out you chose Qingmu University, I thought it was fate.” Liu Hengbo now looked incredibly spirited, clearly overjoyed to be back teaching. “I always said it was a shame for you—if the college entrance exams had been restored earlier, you definitely would’ve gotten into university. See? I wasn’t wrong.”
He wore an expression of pride, as if to say, *I have good judgment.*
Yu Xiang’an couldn’t help but laugh. “Manager, where are you living now? I’ll drop by sometime to visit.”
“I’m in the faculty dormitory. The school assigned me a room.”
“What about your grandson?”
“He’s here too, living with me. We’ve got two beds in the room.”
Yu Xiang’an suddenly thought of something. “Manager, since you studied here before, do you know a lot of people around here?” She smiled sheepishly. “I’m new in town and don’t have many connections. I was hoping you could help.”
Their relationship was close enough for such a request.
Liu Hengbo was puzzled. “What do you need?”
“We’re renting right now, but we’d like to buy our own place. The problem is, not many people are willing to sell, and there aren’t many properties available for legitimate transactions. It’s been tough.”
No matter the era, there were always people selling houses, but some properties had disputes or couldn’t be legally traded.
Liu Hengbo understood. Indeed, as outsiders with children, finding a stable home was a challenge.
“I do know some people. I’ll ask around for you. Do you want something near the university?”
“Closer to campus would be ideal, but anywhere else is fine too. Our two kids haven’t settled their household registration yet, and they’ll need to start school in a few years.”
Thinking of the twins’ ages, Liu Hengbo nodded. “Got it. I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”
“Thanks, Manager. Here’s our current rental address—it’s not far, just a ten-minute walk.”
Yu Xiang’an had full confidence in Liu Hengbo. The old friend from Nanxi Farm was proof—though unassuming, he had an extensive network.
Later, when Yu Xiang’an told Lin Chuanbai about running into Liu Hengbo, now a history professor, Lin Chuanbai said, “I figured as much.”
Yu Xiang’an sighed. “I didn’t think of that. His previous job wasn’t teaching, and I had no idea he graduated from Qingmu University. It was a real surprise.”
“Pleasant surprise?”
“Definitely. The manager’s always been great—never impatient with my questions, and he loves good food. The compliments he gave my cooking were so creative.” It had greatly satisfied her vanity—a chef’s vanity.
—
Yu Xiangyan and the other two arrived the day before registration. After completing their enrollment procedures, they came to Qingmu University to find Yu Xiang’an.
After not seeing them for a while, Yu Xiang’an noticed they had all gotten fairer. The Wen siblings were naturally pale, while Yu Xiangyan had a medium complexion but had tanned from neglect. Now, his skin looked lighter.
Yu Xiangyan touched his face. “Lighter? After your telegram, I barely went outside. Less sun exposure, I guess. Little sis, you look exactly the same—no, even younger. Is it your hair?” Her hairstyle seemed different.
Yu Xiang’an touched her hair. “Partly the hairstyle, partly good skincare.”
Yu Xiangyan: “…You’re too young to be talking about skincare.”
Yu Xiang’an: “Skincare has no age limit. Every woman cares about it.”
Wen Ruzhen nodded in agreement. “What’s your routine?”
“Sun protection, hydration, and moisturizer.”
After some small talk, she asked, “So, you’ve seen your schools. How do they look?”
Wen Yizhen: “The students are very welcoming.”
Wen Ruzhen: “The buildings are pretty run-down.”
Yu Xiangyan scratched his head. “My school… the classroom walls have cracks. Probably gonna be drafty in winter.”
Yu Xiang’an: “…”
Many of their schools were in similar condition—generally shabby. But if the cracks were bad enough to let in winter drafts… that was serious.
Yu Xiang’an forced a laugh. “Did your school say anything about switching majors?”
He’d been assigned to the math department, something Yu Xiang’an had expressed deep sympathy for.
Yu Xiangyan sighed. “Haven’t asked yet. I tested the waters, but it doesn’t look promising.”
“By the way, where are you staying now? We brought some things from home—they’re still in the dorm.”
“Got paper? I’ll write it down. You can explore the area first. I’ve got classes all afternoon.”
They’d come to see her during lunch break.
Yu Xiangyan had paper and a pen. Yu Xiang’an wrote down the address and even sketched a rough map.
Yu Xiangyan, who had a good sense of direction, nodded. “We’ll look around first, then head back for the stuff.”
Yu Xiang’an: “Great. Let’s have a proper get-together tonight.”
—
Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai picked up the twins and returned home to find the three already waiting at the door, two large bags at their feet, drawing curious glances from the kids.
The bags were filled with hometown specialties—dried vegetables, wild mushrooms, and the like.
Yu Xiang’an had similar items in her storage, but these were gifts from family—grandparents, parents, and older siblings.
Yu Xiangyan crouched to greet the twins. “Yihong, Yining, remember who I am?”
Yining hesitated, looking at Yihong, who nodded confidently. “You’re Second Uncle.”
Yu Xiangyan was stunned. “You really remember?”
Lin Yihong: “There’s a photo!”
Their family portrait hung on the wall at home, so of course he knew.
“Come on in,” Yu Xiang’an urged.
The single-room apartment had a table and chairs by the entrance serving as a dining area, with a curtain separating the living space. Shelves were packed to the brim.
“Sit down and have some tea. I’ll start dinner.” Yu Xiang’an opened the bags, eager to taste home.
Next door, Granny Jiang caught the rich aroma and saw her grandson’s longing gaze. She: “…”
She turned away, pretending not to notice. They couldn’t eat meat every other day. The neighbors had guests—it was different.
That night, they talked late into the evening, eating and chatting. When it got too late, they improvised sleeping arrangements—Yu Xiang’an and Wen Ruzhen took the bed with the kids, while the three men made do with makeshift beds or the floor.
In the summer heat, one night was manageable.
—
A few days later, on a day off, Liu Hengbo visited with news: he’d found a house for sale.
It belonged to another professor—a once-beautiful two-story house now in ruins. The walls were blackened with soot, inside and out, and covered in grime. The original doors and windows had been smashed, replaced with haphazard patches. The garden, once lush, was now a mess of vegetable plots, a latrine, and a woodshed.
When Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai visited, the stench nearly knocked them out.
The place was a dump.
Clearly, the previous occupants had left unwillingly, leaving behind deliberate messes.
“Old Xia lives in the faculty dorm now. Besides this returned property, he has another, less damaged house. But with several children to support, he’s selling this one. It’s a wreck, but the ownership is clear. The house is about 100 square meters, with a 500-square-meter yard. You’ll need to put in serious work, though, so think carefully.”
Liu Hengbo had brought them here; the owner refused to revisit the heartbreak.
Yu Xiang’an assessed the damage.
A major renovation project.
Six families had lived here, altering doors, windows, and even adding makeshift kitchens and storage sheds. The main structure was sound, but everything else needed redoing.
She estimated costs in the hundreds.
Lin Chuanbai asked the price. The location was decent—a seven- or eight-minute walk to Qingmu University.
Liu Hengbo: “As you can see, it’s rough, but the bones are good. Built with quality materials, it’s fixable. Plenty of space—seven or eight rooms. If you tore it down, you could rebuild nicely. He’s asking for 1,000.”
He cleared his throat. “Buying a house is a big decision. I’m just the messenger. Discuss it with your family. It’s no small sum.”
Personally, he wouldn’t take it. Too rundown, and the price wasn’t low.
The garden was a wreck.
Why not buy a smaller place and fix it up instead?
But Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai wanted it.
The 1,000 likely didn’t include the garden. Restored, the property could fetch 1,500 or more.
Back when Yu Xiang’an earned 300 a year, saving for three years would cover it.
In the future, three years’ salary for a house in the capital? Only CEOs could manage that.
Prices now were undeniably friendly.
“Manager, we’ve already decided. When can we finalize the transfer?”
“So soon? He’s ready anytime.”
“Tomorrow, then. After the transfer, we’ll hire workers to clean up.”
The framework was solid. Strip the soot, replace doors and windows, repaint.
Admittedly, it’d cost a few hundred even with basic materials.
But it’d be worth it.
Especially with a well in the backyard—not for drinking, but perfect for daily use. No more awkward baths.
Liu Hengbo eyed them skeptically. “You’ve got that much on hand?”
Lin Chuanbai lied effortlessly: “We discussed it with our families before coming. We’re prepared.”
Liu Hengbo thought of Lin Chuanbai’s factory-director father, whose salary and bonuses were substantial. Plus, both had jobs. Made sense.
“Alright, I’ll tell Old Xia. Transfer tomorrow. Need help finding contractors?”
“That’d be great. Thanks, Manager.”
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage