Chapter Fourteen: The Girl Next Door

Hearing footsteps outside the room, both men inside turned to look. When the door curtain was lifted and they saw who it was, Li Yancheng was somewhat surprised.

"Xiaojuan, why have you come back? Did something happen?"

He set down the book he was holding and went to greet her.

Xiaojuan smiled with a hint of embarrassment. "No... nothing happened. It’s just... Pingping and I had a disagreement, and she left by herself. I was thinking..."

"Since that’s the case, why don't you stay here for lunch before heading back? In a while, I’ll tell the gatekeeper to keep an eye out for any carts heading your way and ask them to give you a ride."

"Thank you, Brother Dacheng."

"Don't mention it. Come, sit inside. I have some steamed buns toasting on the stove; have a bite to tide yourself over."

Though Li Yancheng, who had lived for over fifty years, wasn't exactly a genius at reading people, he was certainly considerate. Knowing what the girl from his neighborhood wanted to say and aware that she was shy, he took the initiative to invite her in.

This caused Xiaojuan to let out a silent sigh of relief. She had thought it all out before coming, but once she arrived, she had felt too embarrassed to bring it up.

Zhou Guotao nodded at her with a smile as a greeting, then put down his book, strolled out of the clinic, and went to visit a neighbor next door.

His departure left Li Yancheng feeling a bit awkward. He had only invited Xiaojuan in because Zhou was there, eliminating any risk of gossip, but now that he had left without a word, he didn't know what to do.

Oh well, let it be.

He took a spare water cup from the small cabinet under his desk, scalded it twice with boiling water, and poured her a cup of hot water so she could warm her hands.

Pointing to the buns on the stove, he said, "These just went on the fire. Eat a little to fill your stomach; lunch is still an hour or so away."

He then reached back, grabbed a newspaper from the table, and handed it to her. "Here, read the paper if you're bored. I don't have anything here but medical texts."

"Thank you, Brother Dacheng. I’m sorry to bother you."

"It's nothing. We're neighbors, aren't we? It's not easy to run into a familiar face when you're away from home; we should look out for each other."

Indeed, in an era where transportation was underdeveloped, finding a familiar face dozens of kilometers away from home was truly a rare stroke of luck.

"Brother Dacheng, are you heading back next month?"

"Yes, it should be between the 15th and the 20th. It'll be the Lunar New Year by the end of the month, even if there's no official holiday."

Starting that year, the Spring Festival holiday had been canceled, and it wouldn't be restored until the end of the 1970s.

Public holidays were already scarce—only seven days a year: one day for New Year's Day, one for May Day, two for National Day, and three for the Spring Festival.

Then, before the New Year last year, a worker named Zhang at the Shanghai Glass Machinery Factory, wanting to show off his dedication, appealed in the local newspaper: "No truce on the 30th, keep working on the 1st."

Since the workers had such "high consciousness," the authorities naturally had to follow public opinion. And just like that, those miserable three days of Spring Festival holiday vanished.

Even the home-visit leave for employees working far from home was suspended. The notice said it would be made up later, but... heh...

Xiaojuan didn't care whether there was a Spring Festival holiday or not; she definitely couldn't go home anyway. The "educated youth" settlement had already given notice. In reality, that was just for the seven of them whose homes were in the city. Everyone else lived too far away, and even if they wanted to go back, they had no time—not to mention the lack of money.

"Xiaojuan, how many people are in your educated youth group?"

"There are thirty-three of us in our unit."

"Do you all live together?"

"We have separate male and female dorms. There are more boys—twenty of them."

"You should write a letter to your dad and talk to him. If you can, just get a job arranged and head back as soon as possible. You’ve done your time here, that should be enough."

Xiaojuan understood what Li Yancheng meant. He felt the place was a bit chaotic and that leaving sooner was better.

"Thanks for the reminder, Brother Dacheng. I was actually planning to write to my dad about it in the next few days."

It had been nearly half a year since she arrived, and she couldn't really handle the hardship. Although she had done chores at home, housework and farm work were two completely different things.

In his previous life, Li Yancheng’s parents had also been educated youths for a year or so, and he knew there were plenty of unsavory things that went on. The television drama *Wicked Debt*, filmed in the nineties, had exposed the hidden, darker side of that era.

A group of young people gathered together—all at an age of high vitality and impulsive behavior—meant that accidental romances were inevitable. But they were adults; they should have had the courage to take responsibility. Abandoning wives (or husbands) and children was something truly despicable.

"I heard from Zhihai when I went back the other day that your second brother has started seeing someone. Did you know?"

"Huh? My second brother is seeing someone? I didn't know."

"Heh, it's someone from his hat factory. Your parents are reportedly quite pleased. Since there's a day off on New Year's Day, they’ve arranged for both families to meet then."

"My goodness, that's so fast! I've been out here for less than six months, but it feels like years have passed."

"That's why you need to get your dad to bring you back quickly. Don't delay. If you wait too long, you might come home to find a little kid calling you 'Auntie'."

"Pfft... Brother Dacheng, you're exaggerating. It couldn't possibly be that fast."

Fast? If both sets of parents agreed on New Year's Day and Duan Zhengyang and his partner registered their marriage promptly, having a child by the end of next year was entirely possible. It was just standard speed.

After laughing, Xiaojuan suddenly felt something was off. Was this man in front of her really the introverted older brother from the house next door? He was actually making jokes?

"Why are you staring at me like that? Is something wrong?"

Noticing Xiaojuan looking straight at him, Li Yancheng asked, feeling a bit uneasy.

"Uh... it's just... I suddenly feel like you've changed a lot, Brother Dacheng."

"You noticed it too?" Li Yancheng smiled faintly. "Zhihai told me I'd changed a lot when I went back the other day."

"If I can tell, Brother Zhihai, being a public security officer, definitely can too."

"Let's not talk about that. The buns are toasted enough. Go ahead and eat."

"Oh."

The surface of the buns on the stove had turned a golden brown. Xiaojuan put down her water cup and picked up a bun. It was so hot that she hissed, but she couldn't bear to put it down.

She broke off a small piece, not caring if it burned her mouth, and popped it straight in. After chewing a few times, she swallowed it.

The savory aroma of the toasted bun made her feel incredibly happy; her eyes crinkled into slits.

It had been a while since she had eaten refined flour buns. That one bite of toasted bun made her desire to return home even stronger.

"Brother Dacheng, do you have any stationery? I want to write to my dad right now."

"I do. I have paper and envelopes. Come, sit here and write."

Li Yancheng stood up, went to his desk, took out a stack of letter paper and an envelope from the drawer, and pointed to the dip pen on the table.