Chapter 88:

Yu Qingshan thought Ye Qijia’s idea was feasible, but if she resigned to become a self-employed individual, it would be different from those who waited until retirement to do so. Retirees had pensions as a fallback, and their working years were short due to age. But for her, retirement was still two or three decades away. What if the government later introduced restrictive policies again? Could she return to work at the supply and marketing cooperative? The reform and opening-up had only been in place for a few years, and no one dared predict the future. This was precisely what made Ye Qijia hesitate.

If she used her savings to bring back small items from the south to sell, she was confident she could sustain the business. But what if policies changed again? What if private trading was banned once more? She’d be left in the lurch.

Yu Mingjie interjected, “Mom, I can help you. Don’t resign. When you need to restock, just tell me what you need. I can either send it back or have it shipped by train. You’re quite free now, right? You can check things out during your free time. Grandpa and Grandma can help mind the store the rest of the time. It’s not tiring, and this way, you won’t have to resign.”

This was indeed a viable solution—keeping a foot in both camps to assess the situation before making a final decision.

Ye Qijia pondered, “Will you have the time for this? Won’t it interfere with your studies?”

Yu Mingjie replied, “I can manage on weekends.”

Ye Qijia nodded. “Right now, clothes seem to be the best-selling items.” She hadn’t made this suggestion impulsively. Before coming here, she had carefully observed the market. “There are quite a few street vendors selling clothes back home, and business is booming. As you’ve mentioned before, a piece of clothing that costs six to ten yuan wholesale can sell for over twenty or even thirty yuan. That’s double the profit.” Selling just a few pieces could earn her a month’s salary.

Yu Xiang’an added, “Sister-in-law, if you’re planning to sell clothes, I know a manufacturer who produces them. Maybe she can set up a franchise for you there. Whenever new stock arrives, she can bundle and ship it to you. All you’d need to do is receive it and put it on the shelves.”

Yu Xiang’an had invested in this clothing factory, so arranging an additional franchise was just a matter of a word from her. “The factory focuses on affordable, mid-range clothing—not too high-end but decent quality. There are options for those who want cheap and durable pieces, as well as slightly better ones. The styles are good too. The clothes I gave you before were produced there.”

Ye Qijia was thrilled. “That’s fantastic!” But then she grew concerned. “A franchise sounds complicated. How much capital would it require?”

She had some startup funds, but they were only enough for small-scale operations.

Yu Xiang’an waved her hand dismissively. “No worries. You can take the goods first, note down their costs, sell them, and then pay back the wholesale price afterward. If they don’t sell, you can return them.”

This was virtually risk-free—profit only from what sold. Could such a good deal really exist?!

Ye Qijia knew she was benefiting from Yu Xiang’an’s connections. “I’m definitely riding on your coattails here. Thank you, Xiao’an. For my first order, I won’t take too much—just a small batch to test the waters.”

Yu Xiang’an smiled. “Don’t mention it, Sister-in-law. Have you thought about the storefront?”

Ye Qijia replied, “Why bother with a store at the beginning? I’ll just set up a roadside stall. If the investment doesn’t pay off, it’d be a waste.”

Hearing her mention a stall, Yu Xiang’an didn’t find it odd. At this time, countless people were making fortunes from street vending, and the profits were astonishing.

Yu Mingjie, who had occasionally noticed street vendors selling clothes and even bought from them himself, offered advice. “Mom, when you set up, tidy yourself up and wear one of the pieces as a sample. It’d be even better if you could get a rack to hang the clothes on—it’ll show off the fit and attract more customers. Don’t let the clothes get wrinkled. If they do, sprinkle some water and iron them with a hot water bottle to smooth them out.”

He seemed quite knowledgeable.

Yu Xianghai hadn’t gotten a word in edgewise throughout the discussion. Some points had already been discussed beforehand, and now they were being resolved.

Yu Qingshan remained silent, listening contentedly as they brainstormed ideas.

His youngest daughter’s life was now on track. Though she still owed a significant debt, he had grown somewhat accustomed to it. He believed she would eventually repay it, and that was enough.

As for his eldest son, he too was beginning to seek change. Change could be good or bad, and no one knew which direction things would take. But with siblings supporting one another, even if someone fell on hard times later, they could easily bounce back.

It was enough. Truly satisfying.

Yu Qingshan thought of the farmland back in his hometown. He had freed himself from the endless cycle of farm labor, secured a stable urban job, and put down roots in the city. Now, his children—some with urban jobs, some in the system, some in business—none had returned to rural labor. He had escaped, and his children had too, all living good lives.

Yu Qingshan’s eyes crinkled with a smile, his lips curved upward. Then he recalled Zhou Boyang and his father at the train station, and his smile widened further. He felt a deep sense of vindication.

*Serves them right for their shortsightedness back then.* Zhou Boyang had been engaged to his daughter, yet he’d entangled himself with Ding Minxiu just before the wedding. *Karma’s a bitch.* Their precious only son had failed the vocational school entrance exam. From what Yu Qingshan knew, the boy spent most of his time fooling around outside. How could he possibly pass?

Vocational schools required fewer years of study than universities and guaranteed job assignments upon graduation, making them the preferred choice for many families. But with poor grades, there was no chance. That boy would give his parents plenty of headaches in the future.

The Zhou family had admitted their wrongdoing back then for the sake of their son. Yu Qingshan wondered if they regretted it now. Not that they’d ever tell him—admitting regret would mean acknowledging their past mistakes.

*Just wait. Our Yu family, my daughter, will only keep rising. If they compare themselves to us in secret, their regret will only deepen. But no amount of regret can turn back time.*

Yu Xiang’an thought of Yao Cuifen and asked Yu Xianghai, “How’s Grandma doing?”

Yao Cuifen had recovered from her injuries, but she seemed frailer than before. Fortunately, it wasn’t a major issue—just something to keep an eye on.

Yu Xianghai had visited her recently and nodded. “Grandma’s fine. She still loves watching TV. When I visited, she barely had time for me.” He chuckled as he spoke.

Yu Qingshan said, “Let her watch if she enjoys it.” Having a hobby kept her from feeling lonely.

The conversation shifted again, this time to the children’s studies.

“Yihong, Yining, have you adjusted to the new school here? Are you keeping up?”

Lin Yihong nodded. “We’re keeping up. The teachers even checked in with us.”

Ye Qijia smiled. “That’s good. Keep up the grades. I heard you enrolled in extracurricular classes—are you still attending them?”

Lin Yining grinned and pulled out her erhu. “Auntie, let me play a piece for you.”

The eager performer took the initiative.

Lin Chuanbai and Yu Xiang’an watched with amusement. In later years, it was usually reluctant children being pushed by their parents: “Play something.” But here, it was the child eagerly volunteering: “Let me perform!”

Yu Qingshan laughed. “Go ahead, we’re listening.”

*Clap clap clap!* Ye Qijia applauded enthusiastically. “Have you performed on stage before?”

Lin Yining smiled shyly. “Yes. During a holiday event, I played a piece and won second prize.”

Ye Qijia gave a thumbs-up. “Wow, that’s impressive! Maybe you’ll become a musician someday.”

After the child’s performance, the focus turned to Yu Mingjie. Ye Qijia looked at him. “Do you have a girlfriend? If you do, let me know, and I’ll send you more money. You can’t skimp when dating.”

Yu Mingjie flushed. “Mom! What are you talking about? I don’t.”

Ye Qijia laughed. “Embarrassed? We’ve all been your age. Do the math—how old were your dad and I when we had you? You’re not a kid anymore. Men marry when they’re grown; women wed when they’re ready.”

Yu Xianghai patted Yu Mingjie’s shoulder. “If there’s someone, don’t hide it. Your mom and I are open-minded. Our standards aren’t high—just someone from a decent family with good character. Most importantly, you have to like her.”

Yu Qingshan felt they shouldn’t be too lenient. “As the saying goes, ‘When buying a pig, look at the pen.’ Finding a good partner is essential, but if her family is full of troublemakers, you need to be cautious. Take the new male employee at our store—he’d recently married and was working to support his family. But his wife and her brothers stormed into the store, accusing him of having an affair with a female coworker and committing indecency. They wrecked the place, broke his ribs, and left scratches on his face that’ll probably scar. He lost his job and had to pay damages. The other employee, a mother of two who just looked young, got slapped a few times for no reason. Imagine marrying into a family like that—wouldn’t life be exhausting?”

*Exhausting? Absolutely.*

Yu Xiangju couldn’t agree more. Family background was a crucial factor. Marriage often meant the union of two families.

Yu Qingshan added, “Don’t pressure the kids. They know what they’re doing.”

Yu Xianghai protested, “I’m not pressuring him.”

Ye Qijia also denied it. “It’s about fate. I get that. But I wouldn’t mind holding a grandchild sooner.”

Yu Mingjie’s face turned red. “Mom, if you’re busy with a grandchild, you won’t have time to sell clothes.”

Ye Qijia quickly backtracked. “Oh, then maybe you should wait.”

Yu Mingjie: “…”

*Why did that reaction sting a little?*

***

After leaving the station, Zhou Changshou and Zhou Boyang asked for directions and found where Ding Minxiu and Zhao Qiangniang were staying. Ding Minxiu worked on a factory production line, while Zhao Qiangniang cleaned in the factory’s logistics department. They rented a small room in a nearby house, sharing a bed to save money.

Since it was still early, Ding Minxiu took Zhou Changshou to the personnel office to ask about job openings. Zhou Changshou was short, quiet, and too old to be a security guard. “We currently need cleaners—sweeping production waste off the floor and disposing of it. Twenty yuan a month, no housing, but meals are provided.”

Zhou Changshou found this acceptable. With his pension, his income would match his pre-retirement wages. “Start the day after tomorrow. Settle in first, then report to me when you arrive.”

Ding Minxiu led them back to the rented room. “The adjacent room is still empty. I’ll talk to the landlord about renting it too.” This way, Zhou Changshou would have his own space.

Zhou Boyang frowned at the cramped, dimly lit room. Though the women kept it tidy, living here felt oppressive. But he understood—it was about saving money.

Ding Minxiu had to return to work or risk a pay cut. After settling them in, she hurried back.

That evening, she and Zhao Qiangniang took them to a nearby restaurant, Wuwei Eatery. The meal started pleasantly, with talk of family matters. But then Zhou Changshou blurted, “We ran into Yu Qingshan at the station. Maybe he’s here for work too. What a coincidence.”

The atmosphere instantly froze.

Zhou Changshou knew he’d misspoken. He usually kept quiet because he was bad with words—why had he spoken up today?

Zhao Qiangniang lowered her head, picking at her fried rice grain by grain.

Ding Minxiu’s face turned icy.

Back home, she lashed out at Zhou Boyang. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier? Do you regret it?”

“What nonsense! I don’t regret anything.”

Zhou Boyang denied it.

Ding Minxiu scoffed. “She’s a college graduate, a Beijinger. What, you regret it? Go find her then—see if she’d even look at you now!”

They didn’t know Yu Xiang’an had quit her job to start a business here. Only relatives were aware.

Zhou Boyang’s voice turned cold. “Enough. We haven’t seen each other in so long, and this is how you greet me?”

Ding Minxiu sneered. “Oh, so I’m wrong? Search your conscience—do you really not regret it? If she weren’t so far away, you’d probably rekindle things. Well, maybe not—her husband’s a college graduate, even more distinguished. With such a gem in hand, why would she settle for a middle school dropout like you?”

Zhou Boyang had left school after junior high to take over his father’s job.

He shot back, “Says the one who didn’t even get her high school diploma! At least I know my limits—I didn’t waste time taking the college entrance exam twice like someone else.”

After their affair was exposed, Ding Minxiu had missed her graduation exams, forfeiting her high school diploma. When college admissions resumed, she’d secretly taken the exam twice—and failed both times.

The Zhou family was well aware of the matter.

The couple had been airing each other’s grievances, ending in a bitter quarrel. What should have been a warm reunion after a long separation turned into cold shoulders and silent nights, with both lying back-to-back in bed, neither willing to speak first.

Zhou Changshou watched with worry, slapping himself in private for bringing up such a sore subject.

As the Yu family’s fortunes flourished, the very mention of “Yu” became taboo in their household. Anyone who dared bring it up would be met with a sour face.

How had he let it slip?

The couple’s argument was no secret to Zhao Qiaoniang, but what could she say?

Nothing.

She lay on a makeshift bed in the cramped hallway, assembled from wooden benches, her face etched with worry. What could be done?

It was all in the past. Regretting over such things now—when they’d soon be holding grandchildren in their arms—was pointless.

Did she regret it?

Zhao Qiaoniang refused to admit regret, nor would she allow herself to. Had she stayed with the Yu family, her life would undoubtedly have been better. She wouldn’t be working for money at her age. But she wanted to stay by her daughter and grandson’s side.

So no, she didn’t regret it. Regret was useless anyway.

Why couldn’t her daughter and son-in-law just let go? What was the point of dwelling on the past?

And now they were fighting again. Without even listening, she knew why.

This wasn’t the first time.

Every time they quarreled, they’d give each other the cold shoulder. But this time, it probably wouldn’t last long.

Zhou Boyang wouldn’t stay for much longer. After a night of sulking, by the next morning, they’d both forgotten their words and made up.

Ding Minxiu nagged, “When you go back, make sure our son studies harder. If he didn’t get into technical school, he can still try for university. If his clothes are too small, buy him new ones. I bought him a pair of shoes earlier—take them back with you…”

Zhou Boyang nodded, “Alright, I will. You two take care of yourselves here.”

Seeing them like this, Zhou Changshou and Zhao Qiaoniang both sighed in relief.

Zhou Changshou stayed behind to work and earn money, while Zhou Boyang took the train back to Baishi County.

Life returned to its usual rhythm. Their son claimed to be studying hard, but his grades showed no improvement. Was he really putting in the effort?

What if he failed? Would he just take over his grandmother’s job?

That wasn’t impossible, but in terms of future prospects, a college degree would be far better.

Sometimes, Zhou Boyang wondered if this was retribution—if their past mistakes had led to Yu Xiang’an’s prosperity while their own fortunes declined.

When would this downward spiral end?

—

Ye Qijia and Yu Xianghai returned to Baishi County with bundles of clothes. Within days, they set up a stall, displaying the garments on a simple rack as Yu Mingjie had suggested.

The clothes, bought wholesale for 6.5 yuan, sold for 18; those bought for 8 yuan sold for 25; 10-yuan pieces went for 35; and the 12-yuan ones fetched a staggering 50 to 60 yuan.

The designs were undeniably stylish. Even Ye Qijia, though some styles were too youthful for her, couldn’t resist admiring them. A woman’s love for beauty was innate.

If she felt this way, how could younger, unmarried girls resist?

Especially couples—they’d stop dead in their tracks at the sight of these clothes.

Without quitting her job, Ye Qijia set up the stall after work, packing up before dark.

The clothes sold like hotcakes. Those who missed out on their favorites even followed her home to buy more.

In just two days, she’d made hundreds of yuan—without spending a single cent upfront. By the time everything sold, she’d net nearly a thousand, with profits in the high hundreds after deducting costs.

Counting the money, the couple stared at each other in disbelief.

Yu Xianghai, holding more cash than ever before, trembled slightly. “No wonder Xiang’an went into business. This is incredibly profitable.”

His monthly salary was just over 40 yuan—500 a year. In two days, they’d made what would’ve taken him over two years of scrimping to save.

Ye Qijia murmured, “I was worried we wouldn’t sell all the clothes Xiang’an gave us. Turns out, I underestimated the demand.”

Within days, the clothes were gone. Counting their earnings brought joy, but also anxiety.

With so much cash at home, nowhere felt safe. What if thieves broke in?

Ye Qijia bought two heavy-duty locks, but locks could be picked.

She hid portions of the money in various nooks and crannies around the house, finally feeling somewhat secure. If a thief came, at least they wouldn’t find everything.

The windfall ignited her ambition. “If I keep this up, I’ll earn more than my entire career’s wages. I could retire early and live off the interest.”

Yu Xianghai, equally motivated, nodded. “Let’s work hard together.”

With three children, housing was a future concern. Their savings could cover their eldest’s needs, but now, with this new income, they could secure homes for all three at once.

They might even upgrade their own living situation. Who wouldn’t want a bigger house, like his younger sister’s?

Thus, the couple diligently sold clothes in Baishi County. Though unassuming, their profits were substantial.

Yu Xiang’an, tracking their orders, could estimate their sales and earnings. She felt a quiet satisfaction.

Of all her siblings, her eldest brother’s family had struggled the most.

Though both worked, raising three children on dual incomes—while supporting elderly parents on both sides—left little room for comfort.

Her second brother, Yu Xiangyan, and his wife, both university graduates, earned significantly more. With additional investments, they were relatively well-off.

Her third sister, Yu Xiangqing, taught at a middle school in her husband’s hometown while writing for newspapers—a dual income with only one child to support.

As for herself, her success spoke for itself. The youngest, Yu Xiangju, still in university, would undoubtedly land a well-paying job.

Among them all, her eldest brother’s family had lived the most frugally.

Now, at last, their fortunes were turning.

—

After so many years, everyone had given up hope of ever hearing from their long-lost aunt—even Zhang Chahua and Yu Changcun.

Then, out of nowhere, the family returned to Baishi County.

Back then, the aunt had been sent as a child bride to a nearby family in the neighboring town—a relatively well-off landlord household.

The groom, however, had a limp from an untreated broken leg and facial scars. Not ideal, but survival came first.

The landlord family wasn’t particularly powerful—just slightly wealthier than most, with a few dozen acres of land.

Later, war and local conflicts forced them to flee abruptly, vanishing for decades.

Now, they’d returned—bringing back the ashes of the aunt’s in-laws.

Yu Changxi had hoped to reunite with any surviving family. She hadn’t had time to say goodbye all those years ago.

Now nearly seventy, she didn’t even know if her brothers were still alive.

Yu Qingshan and Yu Xiang’an received the news from an ecstatic Zhang Chahua over the phone.

“Second son! Come home quick! Your aunt and her husband are back—with a whole big family! Come meet your relatives!”

She was overjoyed. If she saw her late husband in the afterlife, she’d tease him for leaving too soon—missing his sister’s return by just a few years.

Served him right!