Chapter 8
Lu Zetong specially took half a day off to come and deliver the betrothal gifts. He was dressed very properly in a neatly pressed wool Zhongshan suit.
Li Changshun had gone to work, but Li Laidi insisted on staying home.
How could an unmarried young woman meddle in such things?
Tian Cuifen glared at her several times, but Li Laidi pretended not to see. Since Tian Cuifen couldn’t hit her in front of guests, she could only wait until everyone left to deal with her.
Truth be told, Li Laidi was rather disappointed that the Lu family actually showed up today.
Her mother had mentioned once that Director Lu’s wife was not someone easy to deal with. She had been married for over ten years without having children and constantly suspected Director Lu of having an affair, to the point that he didn’t even dare talk to female colleagues anymore, afraid of causing trouble.
How could someone that difficult just let things go so easily?
Maybe they’d just show some courtesy, give ten or twenty yuan as a token, and that’d be it. If that happened, Xia Shao would lose all face.
But unexpectedly, the moment Lu Zetong arrived, he handed over a thick stack of “Big Unity” bills. At a glance, there had to be at least twenty or thirty of them.
That was two or three hundred yuan! Back in their hometown, thirty yuan could get you a bride.
Then again, this was Jiangcheng, not the countryside. When her brother got married, they scraped together two hundred yuan in bride price and spent the next six months tightening their belts to make up for it.
Maybe the Lu family was just doing it for appearance’s sake — giving a bride price but nothing else. Some families were even more shameless, making the bride bring the money back to her in-laws after the wedding.
Yet Lu Zetong, after handing over the 300 yuan, said to Xia Shao,
“About yesterday’s incident — I’m really sorry. Aside from the bride price, I’d like to get you and Jibei something useful. How about a sewing machine?”
Li Laidi almost lost her composure.
Ready-made clothes were rare these days. Everyone bought fabric and made their own. Having a sewing machine as part of one’s dowry was something to brag about for life.
And now the Lu family was offering to buy her one — without Xia Shao even asking!
Li Laidi’s eyes were practically bulging out.
But Xia Shao asked, “Can we change it to a small table clock? It’s more convenient for checking the time.”
She didn’t even know how to use a sewing machine. What would she do with one — use it as a table?
However, thanks to Tian Cuifen’s exaggerated boasting, Lu Zetong thought Xia Shao was trying to save him money.
After all, a sewing machine cost at least a hundred yuan, and a good one could buy three or four clocks.
“If you don’t want the sewing machine, we’ll get the clock instead,” said Lu Zetong. “And a bicycle — it’ll make commuting easier.”
A clock and a bicycle together were worth more than a sewing machine.
But he wasn’t done. After a moment’s thought, Lu Zetong added,
“Since Xiao Xia isn’t local, you don’t need to worry about furniture. I’ll order a pair of chests, two chairs, and a table from the furniture factory.”
He was not only generous but also thoughtful.
This time, even Tian Cuifen felt a pang of discomfort. After all, this marriage proposal was originally meant for her daughter Laidi.
But thinking of the rumors she’d heard about the Lus, she quickly felt better.
When Lu Zetong brought up luggage, Xia Shao said politely,
“No need. Grandpa Li and Grandma Li said they’d handle that.”
Li Laidi was caught off guard. “When did my parents say—”
Even Tian Cuifen was stunned. But seeing things slipping out of her control again, she gritted her teeth and stomped on her daughter’s foot.
Xia Shao pretended not to notice.
“They said it after you all left yesterday. You forgot?”
No way was she letting the Lis freeload again — everything was going to be paid for by the Lus.
Sure enough, Tian Cuifen didn’t dare deny it, afraid Xia Shao would make more demands. She quickly fetched the almanac and asked Lu Zetong to pick a date.
He flipped through it and chose next Tuesday — an auspicious day for marriage and moving house, giving them five or six days to prepare and wait for Chen Jibei’s parents to arrive from the north.
Once everything was settled, Chen Jibei took out a roll of ration tickets and handed them to Xia Shao.
“What’s this?”
“Cloth coupons. Make yourself a few new outfits.”
In the past few years, when resources were scarce, each person only got one foot of cloth per year — barely enough for underwear. Things were better now, but most people still didn’t have spare coupons. Exchanging so many at once was no small feat.
No one expected the quiet, cold-looking Chen Jibei to suddenly give such a gift.
Xia Shao quickly realized why when he added,
“I’ve already gotten the letter of introduction from work. I want to register the marriage as soon as possible.”
It was as if he feared his cousin-in-law might pull some tricks if they delayed.
“What’s the rush? It’s not like your bride’s going to run away,” Lu Zetong teased.
Tian Cuifen forced a laugh. “Young people are always impatient — must be fate.”
Now that everything was arranged, Lu Zetong felt relieved.
“You and Xiao Xia talk things over yourselves. As her brother, I won’t meddle.”
Chen Jibei remained calm and indifferent despite the teasing, and Xia Shao, head lowered, was even more at ease than him.
After both families left, Tian Cuifen went home looking grim, while Li Laidi lingered outside in a daze.
“Laidi, what are you staring at?”
Old Lady Wang from across the alley almost bumped into her. Following her gaze toward the end of the lane, she asked, “That girl just now — your relative?”
That woman loved gossip — nothing escaped her. Fearing she’d say something wild, Li Laidi nodded.
Old Lady Wang clicked her tongue. “Pretty girl, like a flower bud. Has she got a man?”
Laidi’s tone soured instantly. “She does.”
“That tall young fellow? They look good together. I thought he was introduced to you.”
She sighed regretfully and left. Her son was unmarried too — she’d been thinking of asking about the pretty girl.
But Laidi only heard “I thought he was introduced to you.”
She stood frozen for a while, then stormed back home.
“So Director Lu’s wife just let it go?”
Still upset about being outmaneuvered by Xia Shao, Tian Cuifen snapped, “What are you talking about?”
“Didn’t she look down on Xia Shao? Why’d she let her off so easy?”
By rights, Laidi was four years younger than Xia Shao. They barely played together, let alone quarreled. But growing up in a family that valued sons over daughters, she was already the fourth girl — while Xia Shao was her family’s only daughter.
Every New Year, Xia Shao had new clothes; Laidi wore her siblings’ hand-me-downs.
Xia Shao tied her hair with bright, colorful yarn; Laidi used plain rubber bands.
Even Xia Shao’s brother once said, “Why waste nice clothes on a useless girl?”
How could Laidi not resent her?
So she bullied Xia Shao, snatched her things. Xia Shao never dared fight back — and when she did cry, her brother just soothed her with a few words.
How could Laidi not pick on her?
But that same timid Xia Shao now had such a good match — handsome, well-connected, generous, and eager to marry her!
“Aside from her looks, what’s so great about her? Why does she get such a good man?”
Now Tian Cuifen understood and immediately yanked her daughter’s ear.
“Oh, so that’s what’s got you riled up? You still thinking I should’ve introduced you to him? I saw you ogling him yesterday — you think I didn’t notice?”
Laidi’s eyes reddened. “I wasn’t!”
Tian Cuifen didn’t believe a word and dragged her inside.
“If you weren’t jealous, then why the tantrum? Do we starve you? Do we not clothe you? You’re drooling over a man already? You shame me!”
The more Tian Cuifen thought, the angrier she got. Her daughter hadn’t inherited her wit at all.
When she was young, her parents had arranged her marriage to a farmer, but she’d set her sights higher — marrying Li Changshun, an apprentice in a store.
If she’d had the chance, she’d have gone even higher — maybe become a concubine to a shop owner or businessman. In those days, who didn’t have wives both at home and outside? As long as they didn’t clash, what difference did it make?
She’d started scheming for herself at fourteen. And her daughter, at eighteen, only knew how to swoon over a pretty face!
Tian Cuifen shoved Laidi onto the kang.
“You think he’s such a catch? If he were, you think I wouldn’t have given him to you? He’s a loafer — drinks, gambles, fights. His parents can’t control him, that’s why they shipped him here!”
“A loafer?” Laidi blinked, forgetting to even cover her ears.
“He couldn’t even earn seven work points back home,” Tian Cuifen said coldly. “Always causing trouble, his mother spent her days apologizing to people. Last month he broke someone’s arm and got docked a wage level. You think Director Lu was eager to ‘introduce’ him? He just wanted him gone. Xia Shao’s marrying trouble.”
But the so-called “trouble” Xia Shao was marrying into didn’t seem to bother her one bit.
“I’m going to get the marriage certificate. You’re not planning to come along too, are you?”
Since everything was already agreed upon — and the “signing fee” (bride price) had been paid — she didn’t care when the paperwork was done.
But since a letter of introduction was needed, and hers was at the guesthouse, they agreed to meet in the afternoon. The marriage office was about a forty-minute walk, so Chen Jibei borrowed a bicycle.
Xia Wanhui, already in his jacket, made a mock-angry face.
“What if he bullies you?”
Xia Shao laughed. “Why would he bully me? And besides, he’s only got one bike — he can’t take two people.”
“That’s fine! I’ll sit on the front bar!”
Wanhui, though only seventeen, was tall — nearly 1.75 meters.
The thought of him perched awkwardly on the front bar, arms around Jibei’s waist… the image was too much.
Xia Shao pushed his forehead. “Just stay home, will you?” And left.
Downstairs, Chen Jibei was already waiting — same clothes, same calm, cold face.
The tall frame of the old-style bicycle suited him perfectly; even sitting, his long legs reached the ground easily.
“Got everything?” he asked.
Xia Shao patted the canvas satchel at her waist. “All set.” Then sat sideways on the back seat.
Without another word, he pushed off smoothly.
It was faster than walking, but they didn’t get far before running into trouble — a crowd blocked the marriage office entrance.
Even from a distance, they could hear shouting — a woman wailing, a man swearing.
“I told you to divorce me! You dare not? You rotten woman — you force me to hit you, huh?!”
A man beating his wife in public.
Before the bicycle even stopped, Xia Shao jumped off and ran toward the crowd.
Standing on tiptoe, she saw a square-faced man in his thirties grabbing a woman by the hair and punching her over and over. The woman, hair disheveled, sobbed and pleaded for help.
“Help? Let’s see who dares help you! You’re my wife — I’ve got every right to beat you!”
Some people were watching, some trying half-heartedly to talk them down, even a few staff from inside the office came out to look.
“Hey! This is a public place! Take it home if you must fight!”
But no one actually stepped forward.
Frowning, Xia Shao started to push her way in — only to be grabbed by the collar.
Chen Jibei had parked the bike and caught up, letting go as soon as she turned.
“It’s their family business. Stay out of it — look, even the staff aren’t getting involved.”
Family business? When it’s assault? Xia Shao didn’t answer — she yanked off her bag and swung it down hard on the man’s head.
The satchel wasn’t light — it had her documents, plus a full glass thermos bottle of hot water. She’d packed it for the day, not to fight — but it worked.
The man froze, clutching his head. “You—!”
“What about me?” Xia Shao raised the bag again. “I’m not your wife — you want to hit me too?”
Her voice was soft and her face delicate, but surrounded by onlookers, the man didn’t dare move.
And seeing that the one who’d stepped up was a pretty young woman, a few men in the crowd began shouting threats. If he so much as touched her, they’d jump him.
With him subdued, Xia Shao turned to check the woman — but the woman suddenly lunged, grabbing her.
“Who told you to hit my husband?!”
Caught off guard, Xia Shao stumbled back — but Chen Jibei was quicker, pulling her aside. The woman’s sharp nails raked his forearm instead.
His face darkened. Without even looking at the scratches, he seized her wrist and flung her back.
The woman stumbled, then sat down wailing,
“They hit us! No justice left in this world — ganging up to beat a couple!”
So much for gratitude — pure spite.
The onlookers jeered.
“You were just screaming for help!”
“She saves you and you go after her? Serves you right!”
Any sympathy the crowd had quickly vanished.
A female staff member came forward and gently pulled Xia Shao aside.
“Don’t bother. They come here every few days yelling about divorce — never actually do it. She always ends up siding with him.”
Indeed, one willing to hit, one willing to be hit — no wonder everyone was just watching.
Xia Shao smiled faintly, then looked back at Chen Jibei’s arm.
“Are you okay?”
He had two bloody scratches but seemed unconcerned.
“Told you to stay out of it. What if something happened? You can’t even fight.”
If he truly didn’t care, though, why did he follow her and intervene so fast?
She didn’t argue. “If everyone stayed out of things like this, what if someone really needed help?”
Her grandmother had once collapsed from a stroke in the street.
If everyone had been afraid of getting “framed,” she would’ve died right there.
The crowd softened.
“Good-hearted girl. Just met the wrong kind.”
“Me, I stopped caring long ago.”
Chen Jibei’s mocking expression faltered. He went quiet.
Unbothered, Xia Shao followed the staffer inside.
A small table stood by the entrance; the same woman sat down behind it.
“There are a few couples ahead. Register here first — I’ll put you on the list.”
“My name’s Xia Shao — ‘Xia’ as in summer, ‘Shao’ as in peony.”
After saying it, she realized something — they were about to register their marriage, and she didn’t even know his surname.
Turning, she saw him follow with calm eyes.
“Chen Jibei. Chen with the ear radical.”
Chen Jibei.
She repeated it in her mind — then froze.
“Chen Jibei? As in ‘Night Rain to Jibei’?”
