Chapter 34:

Yu Xiang’an and Gao Yimei got together after work and went to find Dr. Lin, who had retired from the city and returned to his hometown to live out his later years, following the address they had.

Upon arriving at their destination, Yu Xiang’an silently gave Dr. Lin a thumbs-up in her heart. His home was undeniably well-situated in this neighborhood.

Every household here had small two-story houses with courtyards, and Dr. Lin’s home was no exception. It had a sizable yard, with two two-story buildings on either side. The houses were built with red bricks and cement, coated with white lime on the outside. The yard was neatly paved with small stones, and two aged osmanthus trees stood on either side near the entrance.

Glancing around, Yu Xiang’an noticed that some of the open space was planted with vegetables, while other patches seemed to contain medicinal herbs. Behind the two main houses, there were low, indistinct structures—likely a woodshed or storage room.

Yu Xiang’an couldn’t help but admire, “His living conditions are really good.”

Having the means to live in such a spacious, standalone courtyard was something most people couldn’t achieve.

Gao Yimei was even more envious. At home, she only had a tiny bed that barely allowed her to turn over. “Didn’t I tell you? He’s a capable man. He went to the city early to make his fortune. I heard his son is also accomplished—he joined the military and holds a high rank.”

Yu Xiang’an understood. Even if some people were jealous, as long as Dr. Lin’s background was clean and he had a son in the military, it would be difficult for anyone to target him.

Gao Yimei said, “We need to be polite. His family isn’t short on money.”

Gao Yimei was desperate to solve her menstrual issues. Every month, she felt like she was dying. It hadn’t been this severe before, but after accidentally falling into cold water one winter, the problem had persisted. She had seen many doctors, but none had been able to help.

“It’s just a coincidence. I heard he hasn’t been back in his hometown for long. Before, patients had to go to the city to see him, and even then, there was no guarantee he’d treat them.”

She emphasized this, worried that Yu Xiang’an might not understand and say something inappropriate.

Yu Xiang’an found it somewhat amusing but nodded. “Don’t worry, I get it.”

Only then did Gao Yimei step forward to knock on the door.

A middle-aged woman answered. Seeing two unfamiliar faces, she asked, “Who are you looking for?”

Gao Yimei lowered her voice. “We’re here to see Dr. Lin. Does he live here?”

Hearing this, Xu Haili understood their purpose and opened the door wider. “Yes, he does. Follow me, this way.”

Xu Haili was pleased with their visit. After all, patients never came empty-handed—whether they paid in cash or goods, she stood to benefit.

When they entered, Lin Duzhong was reclining in a chair, listening to the news on the radio. Seeing two strangers, he turned it off and stood up. “What’s the matter?”

Xu Haili said, “Dad, they’re here to see you.”

Gao Yimei stepped forward with a smile. “Are you Dr. Lin? Hello. I was hoping you could take a look at my condition.”

Lin Duzhong studied her for a moment. “Who told you about me?”

“I heard from my cousin’s wife. Her sister-in-law came to you for treatment—she couldn’t conceive, but after three months of your medicine, she got pregnant. She said you specialize in women’s health. I work at the textile factory.”

Lin Duzhong nodded. “Come inside.”

He walked behind his desk and sat down. “Let me see your work ID.”

Gao Yimei followed him in, too preoccupied to take in the decor. She handed over her ID, and after examining it, he said, “Sit down.”

Gao Yimei carefully sat on the stool and extended her wrist.

Yu Xiang’an also focused, watching them.

Gao Yimei didn’t avoid discussing her symptoms in front of Yu Xiang’an, since she was also a young woman. She even brought the prescriptions from previous hospital visits.

Lin Duzhong asked detailed questions, covering everything from diet to daily habits. “You’ve been affected by cold, and you didn’t take proper care afterward. I’ll prescribe two medicines—one for internal use and one for soaking your feet. Use both simultaneously. Take them for a week, then come back.”

He looked her in the eye. “You should have sought treatment earlier. The longer you delay, the harder it will be for you to conceive in the future.”

At this, Gao Yimei tensed. At 22, she was already considered an “old maid” and was self-conscious about her age. If word got out about potential fertility issues, finding a husband would be even harder. Her voice rose slightly. “Doctor, I promise I’ll follow your instructions. Can this be cured?”

Lin Duzhong reassured her. “Take the medicine on time, avoid overexertion, watch your diet, stay warm, and you’ll be fine.”

Her condition wasn’t severe—it could be treated.

Gao Yimei finally exhaled in relief, her heart settling back into place. She nearly cried from joy. For a woman, fertility issues were a serious matter.

Thank goodness.

Lin Duzhong began writing the prescription. “I don’t have all the herbs here. You can either get them at a pharmacy or come back tomorrow to collect them from me. If you choose the pharmacy, copy this prescription now and take it with you.”

He never let his prescriptions circulate outside.

Without hesitation, Gao Yimei said, “I’ll come back tomorrow. Is this time okay?”

“Yes.”

“How much is the consultation fee?”

“Don’t pay now. Bring the money when you pick up the medicine tomorrow. A week’s supply costs sixty cents.”

“Alright, thank you, Dr. Lin. I’ll come back at this time tomorrow.”

“And you, young lady—what brings you here?”

“Doctor, I’m not here for treatment. I just accompanied her.”

Yu Xiang’an had already explained to Gao Yimei on the way that she wasn’t here to see the doctor herself—she just wanted to get acquainted in case of future needs.

Lin Duzhong studied her for a moment. “Would you like a free checkup? No charge.”

Gao Yimei nudged her. “Just try it.” Such a rare opportunity shouldn’t be wasted.

Yu Xiang’an sat down.

She felt her health was decent. Aside from the illness when she first arrived, she hadn’t suffered so much as a headache since. Her complexion had improved, her hair looked healthier, and she’d even grown a bit taller.

Lin Duzhong released her wrist and smiled. “You’re in good health. Keep it up.” At this time, people like her were uncommon—most suffered from malnutrition.

Yu Xiang’an smiled back. “I was sick once before, but since then, I’ve been careful about my health.”

After leaving the Lin residence, Gao Yimei sighed in relief. “Don’t you think Dr. Lin seems really skilled?”

Without waiting for an answer, she continued, “When he asked how I knew about him, I almost froze. He seems very strict—probably worried about troublemakers. But being cautious is good.”

“And did you hear what he said? Don’t repeat any of that outside.”

If word got out about her potential fertility issues, gossip would spread like wildfire.

Yu Xiang’an blinked. “I didn’t hear anything except the doctor saying your condition can be cured with the medicine.”

Hearing this, Gao Yimei burst into laughter and squeezed her hand tighter. “Are you free tomorrow? Come with me again.”

She hadn’t expected her condition to be this serious. If she’d known Dr. Lin would say such things, she wouldn’t have brought Yu Xiang’an along. But now, hearing her response, Gao Yimei felt relieved. It wasn’t a big deal—the doctor said she could be cured, and it wouldn’t affect her future relationships.

“Sure, I’ll come with you.”

“Thank you. The doctor said I need to stay warm and eat better. Before, I couldn’t help it—most of my salary went to my family, and the rest was spent on necessities. From now on, I’ll prioritize food.”

Taking over her mother’s job had come with conditions. Her mother forbade her from marrying too soon, insisting she support the family for a few more years. Most of her wages went to her mother, leaving little for herself. What little she had was spent on decent clothes—she couldn’t afford to look shabby. As a result, she had almost no savings.

Previously, she’d endured her pain silently, gritting her teeth until it passed.

But now, she needed to nourish herself. She glanced at Yu Xiang’an. She’d planned to use her remaining money to buy treats for her younger brother, but now she realized her own health was more important.

“Xiao An, your sister-in-law works at the supply and marketing cooperative. Do you think she could help me buy some brown sugar? I have half a catty of sugar ration coupons—I’ll bring them tomorrow…”

As they spoke, their figures gradually receded into the distance. Just as they left the alley, Lin Chuanbai, carrying a cloth bag, entered from another intersection.

He’d gone to the post office to mail something to his brother and was returning home later than usual.

Seeing him, Lin Duzhong handed over the prescription he’d written. “Go get these herbs tomorrow. I didn’t list the ones we already have. Guess what this is for?”

Lin Chuanbai took it. “…Motherwort. It’s for…”

With Gao Yimei’s case, Yu Xiang’an didn’t need to verify Dr. Lin’s skills herself. Gao Yimei had already been to the hospital without success. If Dr. Lin cured her, it would naturally prove his expertise in this area. Then, Yu Xiang’an could bring her sister-in-law for a consultation and get further reassurance.

For now, since the results weren’t in yet, she wouldn’t mention it to her family. No point in raising hopes prematurely.

While Yu Xiang’an focused on Ye Qijia’s situation, Ding Minxiu boarded a train back home.

Sitting in the crowded carriage, surrounded by noisy passengers, Ding Minxiu’s emotions were tangled.

She was finally returning. Reflecting on the past few months, she couldn’t fathom why she’d endured such hardships.

Back then, she’d been gleeful at Yu Xiangqing’s misfortune, only to face her own crisis—her money was stolen. Nothing else was taken, making it clear she’d been targeted.

Who else but an insider would know where she hid her savings?

All her carefully stashed money was gone, leaving her with just over one yuan in her pocket.

She’d raged and cursed, but no one cared. Worse, she was confined, prevented from leaving—likely to keep her from spreading the truth.

At the time, Ding Minxiu had nearly lost her mind. She barely knew anyone there, and her grasp of the local dialect was poor. She’d never planned to stay long or interact with these rural folk, so she hadn’t bothered learning. Now, she had no one to turn to for help.

Trapped in that house, she could only glean snippets of outside news from the family’s conversations.

Fortunately, Hu Chunyu hadn’t pushed her to the brink. Her daughter valued the baby in Ding Minxiu’s womb, so she was at least fed. As her return date neared, the meals improved, restoring some of her gaunt appearance.

Back then, she’d looked almost frightening—emaciated, with only her swollen belly standing out.

Recalling it now, Ding Minxiu’s mood darkened.

But it was over.

She touched her stomach.

After months away, the weather had cooled. With looser, thicker clothing, her pregnancy wouldn’t be obvious.

She’d never leave home again.

Yet despite her reluctance to dwell on the past, her thoughts spiraled.

When she’d first boarded the train, she’d despised it. Now, seeing the crowded carriage, she couldn’t stop smiling—because it meant she was finally going back.

Gazing out the window at the passing scenery, Ding Minxiu avoided looking at Hu Chunyu beside her, not wanting the older woman to see the resentment in her eyes.

They’d treated her horribly. She’d repay them someday. During her darkest moments, she’d feared dying in that rural hellhole.

But for now, she couldn’t afford to antagonize Hu Chunyu. She hadn’t been in the Zhou family long enough. She’d bide her time until her position was secure.

Hu Chunyu, too, had concerns—though not about Ding Minxiu’s revenge.

What did she have to fear?

She was Zhou Boyang’s maternal grandmother. This tainted girl who’d married into the Zhou family dared to oppose her? She should know her place.

Hu Chunyu’s real worry was that her daughter, upon seeing Ding Minxiu’s haggard state, might demand a refund of the living expenses she’d provided.

She’d already written to her daughter, claiming Ding Minxiu had suffered from severe morning sickness and lost her appetite, but that she’d done her best to care for her. If her daughter dared ask for money back, Hu Chunyu wouldn’t hold back.

Truthfully, Hu Chunyu wasn’t without resentment. If not for Ding Minxiu, she wouldn’t have returned to that backwater and suffered for so long.

And her suffering had been for Ding Minxiu’s sake—if the truth about her pregnancy’s timing came out, Ding Minxiu would pay dearly.

When Zhou Boyang saw Ding Minxiu after months apart, he was startled by her gaunt appearance. Before he could ask, Hu Chunyu cut in, “Train rides are rough. She was too excited before leaving and couldn’t sleep. A few days of rest, and she’ll be fine.”

Ding Minxiu, who was about to cry, swallowed her words. She lowered her eyelids, feeling even more aggrieved inside. Just wait, she thought—she refused to believe that misfortune wouldn’t eventually befall her too.

Fang Rong felt a pang of pity when she saw how frail Ding Minxiu looked now. But her concern wasn’t for Ding Minxiu herself—it was for her unborn grandson. How could a child thrive when its mother was in such a state?

Since Ding Minxiu was no longer suffering from morning sickness, Fang Rong decided to nourish her properly, ensuring she’d give birth to a plump, healthy grandson.

Seeing their concern, Ding Minxiu secretly sighed in relief. It seemed they still cared about her and the child she carried.

After returning, Ding Minxiu ate well and slept well, gradually putting on some weight. Still, she avoided going out—not because she was forced to, but by choice.

If she went outside, people would inevitably ask questions, and she didn’t want to keep answering them. Staying home spared her from gossip and prying eyes.

She hadn’t even thought of informing the Yu family. Even Zhao Qiaoniang didn’t know she was back yet.

Meanwhile, a week had passed for Yu Xiang’an. Gao Yimei had been taking the medicine prescribed by Dr. Lin daily. After finishing the first batch, she switched to another prescription for another week. When her period arrived this time, she still experienced pain, but it was far more bearable than the excruciating agony she’d endured before.

Now, Gao Yimei took Dr. Lin’s words even more seriously. Before seeing results, she’d had her doubts, but now that her symptoms had genuinely improved, she was willing to endure months of bitter herbal decoctions if necessary. The medicine was so bitter it was hard to swallow, but she gritted her teeth and bore it.

Yu Xiang’an was happy for Gao Yimei. Though their friendship wasn’t deep yet, and she didn’t know much about her character, she was aware of the suffering Gao Yimei had endured. Seeing her condition improve was a relief.

At the same time, Yu Xiang’an felt reassured enough to take Ye Qijia to see Dr. Lin with Yu Xianghai.

Ye Qijia and Yu Xianghai were more than willing. Even though they hadn’t noticed any health issues, Dr. Lin was a retired physician from the city. If there were any hidden problems, he might spot them early, saving them future trouble.

Yu Xianghai was deeply moved. He patted Yu Xiang’an’s shoulder and said, “Thank you for remembering your sister-in-law.”

If she hadn’t cared, she wouldn’t have gone out of her way to find a doctor.

Ye Qijia didn’t say anything, but she made a mental note to pick out a new hairpin from the latest batch at the supply and marketing cooperative—something stylish for the young and pretty girl to dress up with.

Yu Xiang’an felt a little embarrassed. “We’re family.”

Yu Xianghai laughed heartily. “That’s right. If you ever need help with anything, don’t hesitate to ask your big brother, okay?”

*

The factory’s housing project was finally completed. From the day construction finished, countless people had gone to inspect the units. The doors and windows hadn’t been installed yet—that was left to the future homeowners.

With no barriers, anyone could walk in and look around. The walls were freshly whitewashed, the floors smooth cement—bright and spacious. Many who saw them regretted not buying in earlier.

Yu Xiang’an toured the units too—one-bedroom, two-bedroom, and three-bedroom apartments.

The one-bedroom was essentially a large single room. The two-bedroom had the front section partitioned into a living room, with two rooms at the back.

The three-bedroom was the most spacious. If one didn’t mind a tighter fit, the balcony could even be converted into a fourth room, totaling nearly seventy square meters—a rare luxury in the housing of that era.

The two-bedroom was smaller, around forty square meters, while the one-bedroom was just over twenty. All were slightly larger than the factory’s allocated housing.

But of course, there was no comparison—one was self-funded, the other free.

As soon as the buildings were ready, those who had paid for their units eagerly awaited the lottery to determine their apartment assignments so they could start renovating and moving in.

Deputy Director Wang was no exception. After visiting with his family, he couldn’t wait any longer.

So without delay, the day after the announcement of completion, a midday meeting was called for the lottery draw.

Nearly all the factory’s upper management had participated in this housing project, so there was no dragging of feet.

Yan Yuzhen wanted a first-floor unit—no stairs to climb, easy access, ideal for families with elderly or young children. Yu Xiang’an preferred the second floor, where privacy was slightly better, away from prying eyes.

She also prayed not to end up near the communal toilets or kitchen. The toilets always carried an odor, and the kitchen could get noisy during meal prep. The best spots were in the middle.

Hoping for a central unit, Yu Xiang’an washed her hands and took a sip of spiritual spring water, wishing for luck.

To avoid any appearance of favoritism, the leaders let the employees draw first. No matter the outcome, it wouldn’t be bad.

When the lottery box was brought out, everyone held their breath.

The leaders didn’t go first. Senior employees drew early, with Yan Yuzhen near the front.

She drew Building 2, Unit 103—first floor, two doors down from the toilets.

When Yu Xiang’an’s turn came, her slip read: Building 2, Unit 205.

Second floor, far from the toilets.

She couldn’t help but smile.

Yan Yuzhen laughed too. “We’re in the same building! Easy to visit each other.”

Building 1 had a mix of one- and two-bedroom units, while Building 2 had two- and three-bedroom units.

Being in Building 2 had pros and cons—proximity to leadership made networking easier, but it also meant less privacy.

Yu Xiang’an just hoped she wouldn’t end up sandwiched between high-ranking officials.

After the employees drew, the room buzzed with chatter—discussing locations, whether they matched expectations, and so on.

Then it was the leaders’ turn. They remained composed, revealing little.

Finally, Deputy Director Wang had everyone register their assigned units. Swaps were allowed if both parties agreed, but Yu Xiang’an was satisfied with hers and registered immediately.

Sticking around, she learned who her neighbors would be.

To her left was a three-bedroom unit assigned to a senior manager, Mr. Chen—the very connection that had helped her secure her job. To her right was a two-bedroom for an experienced workshop foreman, Mr. Bao.

Almost no one swapped. Once assignments were finalized, people rushed to hire carpenters, electricians, and plumbers to install doors, windows, and fixtures.

Suddenly, craftsmen across Baishi County were in high demand.

The Yu family was busy too. Both the Yus and the Qins came to inspect the apartment, asking Yu Xiang’an about her renovation plans.

She had already thought it through.

“The door doesn’t need anything fancy—just sturdy. I want the balcony half-enclosed, with a water pipe installed so I don’t have to haul water.”

It was close enough that a pipe wasn’t strictly necessary, but Yu Xiang’an believed in doing things right the first time. With so many years until 1978, she’d likely be living here a long while.

“I’ll turn the half-enclosed balcony into a kitchen, with a stove built here. The other half can be for drying clothes.”

Qin Shengsong measured the door and windows with a soft tape from his pocket. “I’ve already asked a friend to source glass for the windows. As for the door, your sister-in-law knows carpenters at the furniture factory—we’ll have someone come take precise measurements.”

“The bed’s almost done. I’ll keep an eye out for secondhand furniture—come by later to pick what you like.”

Most of the used items were salvaged from confiscated properties. Many had been broken down into lumber, but the salvageable pieces were repaired and sold cheaply at the recycling station.

Truly valuable items rarely made it there, though—unless overlooked, what remained was either worthless or politically sensitive.

Yu Qingshan hadn’t minded used furniture before, but now, against the pristine white walls, it seemed a shame.

Yet a full set of new furniture wasn’t cheap. He could only sigh inwardly.

Yao Cuifen looked around, thoroughly impressed. “Once the pipes and kitchen are done, this’ll be a proper home. Used furniture’s fine—it’s lived-in.”

For a young woman who’d just started working, all-new furnishings would’ve been too extravagant.

Qin Shengsong added, “A fresh coat of paint on old furniture makes it look almost new.”

Yu Xianghai rubbed his chin. “I can build the stove, but we’ll need a plumber for the pipes.”

Yu Qingshan shook his head. “No need—I can handle that. The balcony enclosure is simple too—just bricks and cement.”

Qin Qiang: “We’ve got leftover bricks in the yard. We’ll cart them over…”

Amid the lively discussion, plans quickly fell into place.

After work, they’d head straight to the apartment with tools in hand.

Yu Xiang’an visited the recycling station to choose from the secondhand furniture Qin Shengsong had set aside. After selecting pieces, she paid upfront but left them there for now—no rush to move in before renovations were done.

Meanwhile, Yu Qingshan quickly befriended the workers renovating the neighboring units, picking up tips and building rapport.

By the time the apartment was ready, he’d formed impressions of his daughter’s future neighbors.

The Chens—the wife visited often, appearing amiable but overly fastidious. She frequently complained about workers dirtying the floors during renovations, seeming difficult but not unreasonable if left alone.

The Baos—a machinery foreman, easygoing and talkative, someone Yu Qingshan got along with well.

Neither seemed like bad neighbors.

Still, Yu Qingshan planned to stay with his daughter for a while after she moved in—long enough to properly assess the neighbors’ characters.

As the empty apartment gradually acquired doors, windows, a kitchen, electricity, a bed, furniture, and daily necessities, Yu Xiang’an felt an increasing sense of belonging.

This was her new home.