When Chen Lu stepped inside, she paused briefly, then broke into a sweet smile. Walking up to Gu Shunhua, she said, “Elder Sister, you’re back! Why didn’t you say anything beforehand? I wasn’t busy—I could’ve gone to the station to pick you up!”
She then looked toward the two children. “Manman and Duoduo came too? It must’ve been a rough trip for you two!”
As she spoke, she reached out to pat Duoduo’s head, but the child instinctively shrank away, retreating into Gu Shunhua’s arms and eyeing Chen Lu warily.
Chen Lu’s hand landed on empty air.
Gu Shunhua said calmly, “They’re still young. They’ve never been in such an environment—they’re wary around strangers.”
Fearing Chen Lu might feel awkward, Chen Cuiyue laughed and sighed, “Look at this little girl—this is your actual aunt, and you’re still acting shy!”
Now that Chen Lu had arrived, the small crowd dispersed after a few casual words. It was noon, and most had to return to work in the afternoon. Qiao Xiuya had still wanted to speak her mind—she had been simmering with frustration—but with Chen Lu’s arrival disrupting the moment, bringing it up again would only make her seem petty. So she swallowed her annoyance and left in silence.
Once everyone had gone, Chen Cuiyue asked offhandedly, “Want some malted milk?”
Chen Lu shook her head. “I’ll pass. Now that I’ve seen my cousin, my mind keeps drifting to her situation in the capital. Last time, Brother Yongzi said he’d run into her—what exactly happened?”
Both Gu Quanfu and Chen Cuiyue were also anxious about this matter and turned their attention to Gu Shunhua.
She gave a brief account of what had transpired. “So in the end, I brought the children with me.”
Hearing this, Chen Lu’s expression shifted. “You were already here on your own… and then halfway through, you went back to fetch the kids?”
Gu Shunhua cast a cool glance at her.
This action had already diverged from the plot of the original novel. No doubt it would cause certain developments to unfold differently—but only she knew that. Why was Chen Lu so startled?
Unless… she had already started making plans of her own? Even if she had her eye on Ren Jingnian, shouldn’t she be glad that Shunhua had taken the children with her? With no children to worry about, wouldn’t it make things easier for her and Ren Jingnian? Or was she planning to take the children as well?
A flood of thoughts rose in her mind, but outwardly, she remained composed. “That’s right. When I reached our doorstep, I changed my mind and caught a train back to bring the children.”
Her mother, Chen Cuiyue, stomped her foot in frustration. “You—honestly! Didn’t you hear what Aunt Qiao said? You can’t get your household registration approved if you bring the children!”
Her father, Gu Quanfu, frowned silently.
Gu Shunhua replied calmly, “Ma, I’ve already thought it through. The children are still young. If I left them behind, who knows what kind of suffering they’d endure? Since I gave birth to them, I’m responsible for them. If I can get them registered here, I will. If not, I’ll take them back with me to the Corps. If I managed to survive there for eight years, another eighteen won’t kill me.”
Chen Cuiyue clutched her forehead. “Why are you so stubborn! I know you love your kids, but look at the situation. Is this the time for you to be stubborn? If you can’t return to the city, are you really going to spend your whole life in that godforsaken place? As long as there’s a green mountain, there will always be firewood—come back first. Only then can you find a way for the children later.”
She began to nag again. “I never agreed to your marriage back then. Just a hot-headed kid, thinking he was good enough for my daughter? But you insisted, you just had to marry him! And now look at you—stuck in the middle of nowhere, unable to come home, doomed to spend your life suffering in some godforsaken mine!”
Chen Lu stepped forward to mediate. “Auntie, calm down. Isn’t she divorced now? That’s a good thing. What we should focus on is figuring out how to settle everything properly.”
She turned to Gu Shunhua. “Elder Sister, really—how could you be so impulsive? Now you’ve upset Auntie again. When something happens, we should be thinking about how to solve it, not make it worse.”
Gu Shunhua looked at her slowly. “Chen Lu, are you saying I should’ve just abandoned my children?”
Chen Lu seemed flustered and tried to explain, “Elder Sister, that’s not what I meant. I just don’t think you should keep upsetting Auntie like this. Look at what a wreck she’s been over your situation these days.”
Gu Shunhua replied, “That’s not right. How am I making things worse? If I’d left the children behind and come alone, my mother would be worrying over her grandchildren day and night—that would be real distress. But now that we’re all here, she can finally rest easy. Right, mom?”
Chen Lu snapped, “You—”
Chen Cuiyue grew agitated as well. “Shunhua, just listen to yourself. What kind of talk is that? And the way you spoke to Aunt Qiao earlier—how can you talk to an elder like that? Even I wouldn’t dare speak that way!”
But Gu Shunhua didn’t engage. She calmly carried the children into the inner room and laid them down to rest. Only then did she return.
“Mom,” she said, “Back then, each household was assigned one spot for relocation. Based on age, it should’ve been my brother from our side, and Chen Lu from Uncle’s side. But you said Chen Lu was younger, frailer—that she wouldn’t survive the hardship. So I went instead. I went to the Corps in Inner Mongolia, spent eight years working in the mines. I won’t dwell on the suffering I endured, but I’ll say this—among those who went with me, two are buried beneath the Yin Mountains and never came back. That I’m standing here today, alive and able to speak to you, is sheer luck.”
At these words, Chen Cuiyue froze. Then tears welled up in her eyes. She took out her handkerchief and dabbed at them.
After all, this was her own daughter—and her heart ached.
Gu Shunhua went on, “The only reason I survived was because someone stood by my side through those years. I married Ren Jingnian, and all these years, he took care of me. We had a pair of twins—these are our flesh and blood, your own grandchildren. Yes, I’ve brought them back and caused you trouble. But I was only fifteen when I was sent to the countryside, and I went in Chen Lu’s place. So now, for the sake of what I endured, for the sake of those eight bitter years, can’t you give my children a place to stay? Is that asking too much?”
Chen Lu’s face flushed with embarrassment. “Elder Sister, why would you say that? I wasn’t blaming you. I was just trying to give you some advice—for your own good. Why bring up the past?”
Chen Cuiyue added, “Yes, all those years are behind us. There’s no point dwelling on them—we’re family, and too much resentment leads nowhere. Let’s talk about the present. You brought the children, but the fact is, they can’t be registered here. So what now? Who can magically produce a household registration for you?”
As the two continued back and forth, Gu Quanfu suddenly spoke up. “Enough already. Shunhua coming back is a good thing. Bringing the children back—well, that just means the family’s grown. Since she’s back, we’ll do whatever we can to sort it out. She just got home, and you’re already criticizing her—what, do you wish she hadn’t come back?”
At that, Chen Cuiyue fell silent, and even Chen Lu looked embarrassed.
She felt her uncle had publicly humiliated her. Biting her lip, eyes rimmed red, she mumbled, “I was just trying to help Elder Sister. Since my uncle said so, then I won’t say anything more. I’ll head back now.”
Lowering her head, she turned with a swish, lifted the cotton curtain, and walked out.
She lived in another shared courtyard compound in the same alley—a ten-minute walk at most.
Once she had left, Chen Cuiyue turned to glare at Gu Quanfu. “What was that? That’s my family—you can’t speak like that! What will Chen Lu think? What will my brother think if she tells him?”
Gu Quanfu replied coolly, “What your brother thinks is none of my business. The man’s a layabout, wandering around all day, eating and sleeping like a pig. He’s lived this long without doing a single worthwhile thing. And now, my own daughter comes home, and I’m supposed to consider his feelings? What is he, my ancestor?”
That struck a nerve. Harsh as his words were, they weren’t untrue—and that only made it sting more.
Chen Cuiyue was, at heart, a mother who loved her daughter. She was diligent and frugal in daily life, but the moment her natal family was brought up, all her loyalty went to them.
Enraged, she jabbed a finger at Gu Quanfu and scolded, “I said one thing, and you go on and on! Youtang has never wronged you. You just look down on my family—you look down on me! Why don’t you just say so? Let’s just end this marriage if that’s how you feel!”
Tears welled in her eyes, and by then, the neighbors in the adjoining rooms had already gathered to mediate.
In these shared courtyard compounds, nothing escaped anyone’s ears. Everyone already knew exactly what had happened at the Gu family’s.
Chen Cuiyue didn’t dare make a real scene, and with the neighbors stepping in, she gladly took the opportunity to save face. After scolding Gu Quanfu a bit more, she let the matter drop.
While two or three neighbors coaxed and calmed her, Gu Shunhua quietly stepped into the back room.
The house, though barely over ten square meters, had been partitioned when the children grew older. A small three-square-meter room had been built against the back wall with a tiny connecting door. That made three rooms in total.
Despite her eight-year absence, Gu Shunhua knew the layout like the back of her hand. She carried the children into the back room, settled them on the wooden bedframe to rest, then rummaged through the cabinet. She found two eggs and a bit of white flour and brought them out.
With only three small rooms in total, there was no real kitchen. Everyone cooked under the eaves outside their doors, each household extending half a meter out to squeeze out a makeshift cooking space.
In summer, they cooked beneath the eaves; in winter, they brought the coal stoves indoors.
The neighbors had now left the main room. When Chen Cuiyue saw her daughter emerge with the eggs, her eyes immediately locked onto them.
Gu Shunhua said, “The kids are starving. It’s been a long trip.”
At that, Chen Cuiyue thought of the children and felt a twinge of sympathy.
That was just her nature—she ached for her daughter and grandchildren, but she also ached for the eggs. If only she had a whole room full of them, she wouldn’t feel so torn.
She took the eggs and flour. “Go stay with the children—I’ll fry the eggs and bring them to the back room when they’re done.”
Gu Shunhua didn’t refuse and handed them over directly.
Off to the side, Gu Quanfu remarked, “Life’s a lot better now. My wages just went up by three yuan. Eat whatever you want—don’t hold back.”
Shunhua smiled. “Dad, do I look like someone who acts like a stranger in her own home?”
He grinned. “Good girl. Just settle in. Don’t worry—tomorrow I’ll go talk to the old neighbors. We’ll find a way to get your registration sorted.”
Gu Shunhua said, “No rush, Dad. I’ll go by the Zhiqing Office myself first and ask around—see what the situation is.”
Gu Quanfu nodded. “You’ve always had your own way of doing things. I won’t say otherwise. As for your mom, don’t take her words to heart. Just pretend she’s talking nonsense.”
Shunhua chuckled. “Come on, you think I take it to heart? I eat when I’m hungry, drink when I’m thirsty—the only thing I don’t swallow is unfairness.”
Of course she didn’t care. She no longer listened to anything her mother said. Even if she once did, she wouldn’t anymore.
With a temperament like her mother’s, one day she might well trade her off just to buy Chen Lu a padded jacket. If she obeyed everything, how would she even survive?
As they spoke, she returned to the back room. The two children were curled up quietly on the bed, their small faces bewildered as they looked around.
When they saw her come in, both turned toward her.
Duoduo stared up at her timidly without saying a word, but Manman spoke up.
“Mama… does Grandma not like us?”
Shunhua’s heart tightened.
The walls of the house were thin, and every raised voice could be heard by the neighbors. To outsiders, the children looked small and frail, hardly more than toddlers. People didn’t bother to lower their voices, assuming the kids didn’t understand.
But the truth was, both little ones understood everything perfectly.
Translator’s Note:
In the original Chinese text, the term jie (姐) is used—meaning elder sister. While it denotes a familial relationship, it’s also a respectful form of address used not only between biological siblings but also by younger cousins or close acquaintances. For the sake of cultural accuracy and to preserve the nuance of familial hierarchy, we have chosen to translate jie as “Elder Sister” throughout the text, so far.
As readers, do you prefer the more literal and culturally faithful “Elder Sister”, or the smoother and more modern “Sister” for overall readability? I’d love to know your thoughts—does “Elder Sister” help you stay immersed in the world of the story, or would “Sister” feel more natural to your reading experience?
Let us know what resonates with you—we’re committed to honoring both the original voice and your reading journey.