Chapter 21

Liangzhu—was it a “measuring column” or Butterfly Lovers… Ye Qingshui didn’t really care.

Because Ye Qingshui wasn’t very good at classical Chinese, she had never heard of the story of Liang Zhu (Butterfly Lovers). When performing community opera, her mother mostly sang revolutionary pieces about fighting landlords or the Red Army’s Long March. With her mouth open wide, revealing neat, white teeth like glutinous rice grains, her singing was loud and moving—but completely unrelated to lingering, sentimental love stories.

Back when Ye Qingshui finally pulled herself out of the pit that was Xie Tingyu, what began as deliberate avoidance eventually became a kind of natural indifference. Over time, she forgot about him with ease. Names she never knew, she never intended to learn. She never deliberately recalled anything about Xie Tingyu.

What bothered her now was how she had just played that tune so effortlessly. Could this be the magic of “scenery evoking emotions”?

Her expression grew complicated—just like when she’d unconsciously blurted out those flattering words to Xie Tingyu not long ago, making her feel unsettled inside. Her face flushed, and what started as lagging behind by just a few steps turned into falling more than ten steps behind.

Xie Tingyu, walking ahead, noticed the lack of footsteps behind him. Turning back, he frowned and asked, “What, not coming?”

He noticed the faint blush on her face and paused.

He couldn’t tell if she was shy from being exposed or just sunburned.

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Dkl Mkdtuw alrzkle nsszzu, “Yx.”

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Ye’s mother nudged Ye Qingshui: “Why are you standing there dazed? Go with Little Xie… two people work faster.”

Seeing the young pair made her both happy and comforted. It reminded her of the sweet days she had shared with her late husband.

“Mm, A-Niang.”

Ye Qingshui actually didn’t really want to go with Xie Tingyu again, but there was a section of the mountain road that went uphill. Xie Tingyu had to push the cart and couldn’t watch both front and back, so someone had to steady it from behind. In the end, she had no choice but to go another round.

Xie Tingyu patted the back seat of the cart: “Get on.”

Ye Qingshui looked at his clueless, composed expression, took a deep breath, and thought—what am I getting worked up for?

So what if he taught me how to do it? I can’t blow it too?

She casually picked a leaf, took a steady breath, and began to blow softly.

Along the long mountain road, with cool breezes gently sweeping away the summer heat, the bright and graceful prelude of Butterfly Lovers began to repeat, elegant and moving.

The prelude and opening of Butterfly Lovers are cheerful and lively, depicting the time when Zhu Yingtai first entered the academy and spent joyful days together with Liang Shanbo. Back then, their relationship was a hazy, innocent bond between classmates, with affection as light as a veil—pure and beautiful.

The cheerful melody conveyed emotions as tender and radiant as first love: youthful, sweet, and enchanting.

Xie Tingyu: “……”

The two said nothing along the way, except for the winding tune from the leaf flute.

The wheels of the cart rolled steadily over the narrow winding path, leaving behind a trail. Though it wasn’t spring, the mountains still had birds occasionally chirping melodiously, wildflowers blooming exuberantly along the path, and the fragrance of blossoms in the air. Dappled shadows of the trees fell on the two of them, creating a rare sense of peace and quiet.

…

Time flowed like water, day after day.

Although the whole brigade was working on digging a well, progress was slow. On the other hand, the reservoir project was moving quickly. The strong young men worked hard, leaving early and returning late every day, even bringing lunch with them.

So Granny Ye told Ye Qingshui to deliver lunch to Xie Tingyu.

Ye Qingshui had originally thought of just cooking a bit more for breakfast and packing a lunch for Xie Tingyu to take. But her grandmother gave her a suspicious look, sternly poked her forehead with a firm thumb, and said, “You’re not still thinking about that thing, are you?”

The old woman’s memory was surprisingly good. Even a random remark her granddaughter had made months ago still lingered in her mind.

She snorted and said with authority, “Shuiya, don’t you dare think about that anymore. You’ve got a good life—don’t go and ruin it with foolish ideas.”

Ye Qingshui had no choice but to quickly finish her meal, then pack a few pieces of meat and some vegetables into a lunchbox. She rode Xie Tingyu’s bicycle to the construction site a few miles away, tirelessly delivering lunch to him.

However, Xie Tingyu didn’t lack lunch these days. Not only did he not lack it—his lunch was actually quite decent.

He had brought along the steamed buns from breakfast, and besides the buns, there were also some pickled vegetables that Ye Qingshui had personally prepared. Eating the white flour buns with smashed cucumber and pickles, he had it better than the others who were eating cornmeal or coarse grain buns. White flour was considered fine grain—most families couldn’t afford it. Only city-born educated youth were willing to eat like this.

Shen Weimin was also eating white buns, which he had exchanged for flour at the canteen. But even though his were made from the same high-grade flour, Xie Tingyu’s buns clearly smelled better, were softer—and, more importantly, he didn’t have any pickled sides. That made Shen Weimin a little envious.

Xie Tingyu was almost done eating when Ye Qingshui finally arrived, a bit late.

She wiped her sweat, handed over the lunchbox.
“Grandma asked me to bring you food. Hurry and eat, then give me the box back to wash.”

Xie Tingyu opened it to see fresh green vegetables and thin slices of meat. Though there wasn’t much, it was enough.

Seeing this lunch, Xie Tingyu didn’t refuse. After half a day of hard labor, he was already hungry and needed the energy. Seeing that there was meat made him visibly happier.

And not just any meat—it was braised pork, half-fat, half-lean, glossy and tender, practically melting in the mouth. Xie Tingyu squinted with satisfaction as he enjoyed his meal.

Under everyone’s envious gazes, he took Ye Qingshui’s lunchbox and found a quiet spot to eat. But even so, the aroma wafted on the breeze and left Shen Weimin nearby salivating.

He had to keep gulping down water to suppress the overwhelming hunger.

But he couldn’t help glancing toward Ye Qingshui several times.

When she finally walked away with the empty lunchbox, satisfied, he couldn’t hold back anymore and quickly caught up to her, coughing dryly with a ticklish throat.

“Uh… Shuiya, I—I’ll give you money and grain coupons. Can you bring me a portion of lunch too tomorrow?”

Ye Qingshui, of course, rejected him without thinking.

But then, Shen Weimin immediately held out a grain coupon and some cash: fifty cents and half a jin (250g) worth of grain coupons.

“This is for one day. I’m not shorting you.”

Ye Qingshui looked at the fifty cents, and her mind instantly equated that with about a dozen braised eggs. Fifty cents was nearly enough for a whole jin of meat. If she got fifty cents every day, that’d be fifteen yuan a month—and the Ye family didn’t even have meat every day. Sometimes they just had pickled vegetables and eggs with rice.

Shen Weimin truly was a fat sheep from the capital—ripe for the taking. Ye Qingshui agreed without hesitation.

“Then pay for the whole month in advance. If I cook and you don’t eat, it’ll be a waste.”

Shen Weimin: “…”

He grumbled, “I didn’t bring that much today. Let me owe you for now.”

Ye Qingshui agreed crisply. “Fine.”

With another new stream of income secured, she happily rode the bike home. As expected, making money off the rich was easier.

After Ye Qingshui left…

Shen Weimin rubbed his chin and muttered, “Man, I really pissed her off back then. If it were Yiliang, she definitely wouldn’t ask for money. She’d probably even ask what I liked to eat.”

Xie Tingyu replied, “Yiliang treats her well.”

Hearing that, Shen Weimin gave Xie Tingyu a long, pointed look and said meaningfully, “Yu-ge, Yiliang really likes Shuiya. He’s always going on about how great she is.”

In fact, what Liu Yiliang had been saying was: “Sister-in-law is amazing—good person, great cook.” If he were there, he’d probably be slapping his chest and coughing up blood. Just a pronoun difference, and the whole meaning was lost.

Xie Tingyu frowned, and only after a long while did he say, “Yiliang’s not what you think.”

Shen Weimin was relieved and grinned, “Soon I’ll be one of the people with a hot lunch too!”

—

After returning home, Ye Qingshui discovered a young man sneaking around under her eaves.

She called out sharply, “Come out!”

The young man slowly emerged. He was skinny but neatly dressed, with tanned skin, thick eyebrows, and spirited eyes. He looked at Ye Qingshui a bit nervously.

“Who are you?” Ye Qingshui asked.

Upon hearing her voice, the young man broke into a smile. “It’s me!”

That rough voice instantly triggered her memory—he was the black-market egg seller from before.

He babbled on, “You left in such a hurry last time, I didn’t know where you lived. I had to bug Ke’er for ages before he finally told me to come find you here. Don’t be mad—I’m trustworthy!”

He gently picked up a large sack of eggs from the corner and grinned sheepishly. “From now on, you can do business with me. We’ll get rich together.”

“Just between you and me, I’ve got more than eggs—I’ve got lots of chickens and ducks. You… you could make chicken and duck buns.”

At this point he looked a little embarrassed.

“I know you were short on meat for your buns. I didn’t tell you before—not because I’m not loyal—I just had to make sure you were reliable before sharing. But now…”

Ye Qingshui suddenly looked up, eyes brimming with undisguised delight. What a lucky day—so much good fortune!

The young black-market seller grinned mysteriously. “I’ll sell you chicken and duck meat—sixty cents a jin, no coupons needed. If we make money, I want forty percent. So—what do you say? You in?”

Only then did Ye Qingshui realize what he’d said earlier: “You can do business with me. We’ll get rich together.”

Not I can do business with you—the subject and object were reversed, which made a big difference. Although she didn’t like being led around by the nose, in these times, someone who had chickens, ducks, and a whole basket of eggs every day was the real boss.

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Author’s note:
Yu-ge: Still being wildly flirted with
Shuiya: “…”

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