Chapter 587

He returned from town in the afternoon, already quite late. Second sister was busy in the kitchen preparing the New Year's Eve meal, while Grandma and Zijin helped with the chores.

Tian Run'e was slaughtering a chicken in the courtyard, with Yang Ying's mother squatting beside her; both plucked feathers while complaining and chatting.

The children at the crossroads had run wild through the village, setting off firecrackers wherever they went; several neighbor's manure pits suffered damage, followed by furious adults wielding brooms chasing after them.

By custom, the New Year's Eve meal in Shangwan Village must include chicken, pork, and fish—the three raw dishes—while pig's blood balls, radish, and egg dumplings were standard side dishes; other dishes depended on the family's means: wealthier households prepared more, while struggling ones could only reuse the same dishes. Eels and loaches were forbidden, as such creatures were considered insects by ancestral spirits—an act of great disrespect.

Li Heng sat in the courtyard for a while, then couldn't help asking Yang's mother: "Auntie, have you reached Yingwen?"

Yang's mother's face was grim: "We got through, thanks to Xiao Han making the call—but Yingwen refuses to come back."

Li Heng asked: "Did you tell him about Father's condition?"

"I told him. Still refuses to come back." Yang's mother still remembered her daughter's cold words.

Yang Yingwen said on the phone: If he really dies, don't put my name on the ritual offerings—pretend I never existed.

Yang's mother wept on the phone, trying to persuade him, but he shut her down with: "My eleven scars don't allow me to feel emotion."

The eleven scars were deep—short ones as long as a finger, long ones stretching across his entire back—all carved by his father's whip during childhood.

How to explain it?

As neighbors said, Yang's father never treated Yang Yingwen as human. When he had disputes outside and was called childless, he came home furious and took it out on his daughter—right or wrong, he beat her first, often to within an inch of her life.

Once even the village head couldn't bear it—he gathered dozens of relatives and villagers, tied Yang's father up, and forced him to write a pledge promising never to beat children again. But it was useless—he still beat them, and no one could stop him.

Tian Run'e asked: "What exactly is his illness?"

"He's got a stubborn, dead-end temper—refuses to go to the hospital. Yang Xinlu came over to check—he thinks it's likely lung disease. He's been coughing up blood these past few nights, screaming in pain like a slaughtered pig, then getting up to smash bowls and slam doors, cursing me. Last night he was too weak to rise—I just watched, no sadness, no tears. Run'e, tell me—is my heart made of iron?" Yang's mother rambled on; in this matter, she hated her husband with every fiber of her being.

But she was a rural woman, poorly educated, unable to read more than a few characters. Without a man in the house, she'd be easily bullied in the village. Torn between conflicting thoughts, she didn't know whether to wish for her husband's death or his recovery. Yet every time she burned incense and cast lots, she still knelt before the ancestral altar, praying for his well-being.

Oh, Yang Xinlu was the village's barefoot doctor. Rumor had it he once served as a military medic in the army, but after losing a fight over a woman with his superior, he secretly eloped with her, abandoned his iron rice bowl, and became a village doctor. Still, his medical skill was exceptional—he was renowned for miles around.

The eldest brother-in-law delivered the bookshelf. Li Heng patted it here and there, satisfied with its sturdiness, and immediately ordered it moved to the second-floor study.

Starting at 4 p. ., firecrackers began popping one by one across the village, signaling the start of New Year's Eve.

The Li family ate only as darkness fell. Twelve dishes filled the table, none repeated, lavish and abundant. Li Heng held the firecrackers; Chen Zijin lit them with incense after several attempts. Amid the crackling, the family sat down to their New Year's Eve meal.

Before eating, Grandma pulled out red envelopes and handed them to Li Heng and Chen Zijin: "May you have surplus every year, good fortune every season. May your love be as unbreakable as gold, and may you grow old together."

Chen Zijin joyfully accepted the envelope: "Thank you, Grandma."

Li Heng took the envelope, felt its thickness—about 120 yuan—and handed it to Zijin: "Wife, hold onto this for me."

Under the watchful eyes of Grandma, Li Jianguo, Tian Run'e, and Second Sister, Chen Zijin blushed, hesitated briefly, then accepted it. Immediately afterward, she picked up a piece of bone-in cured pork and placed it in Li Heng's bowl.

Bones, during New Year's Eve, symbolized wealth and good fortune—extremely auspicious.

The New Year's Eve meal was strictly governed: bones must not touch the ground, chopsticks must never leave the table. If there were children in the house, someone always sat beside them, watching closely.

Midway through the feast, loud wailing came from next door to the neighbors—the shrill cries of Fat Aunt. Curious villagers rushed over and soon spread the gossip: Fat Aunt had spent all day preparing the New Year's Eve meal, only to turn around and find her husband and daughter-in-law gone, along with all the valuable items—they'd eloped.

The village's notorious troublemaker shouted at the top of his lungs: "Disaster! Disaster! The lecher's run off with his daughter-in-law!"

It was 1989—the first joke of the New Year. Everyone laughed and groaned, yet found it unsurprising.

After dinner, Li Heng asked Zijin: "Are you going over tonight?"

"Going over" meant crossing the road to the Chen household.

Chen Zijin murmured yes, then, while others weren't looking, stole a quick kiss on his lips: "I'll be back around nine. Husband, leave the door open for me."

Li Heng affectionately stroked her hair: "Why leave a door? You're my wife—I'll wait for you right here in the courtyard."

"Alright." Chen Zijin beamed, kissed him again, then returned to the Chen household.

As soon as Zijin left, Second Sister swiftly pulled over a stool and sat beside him, asking: "Mom said Teacher Yu is spending the New Year at Teacher Wang's place in Shaoshan?"

Li Heng replied: "Yes."

Second Sister extended her hand.

Li Heng frowned: "What?"

Li Lan said: "Let me see the note Teacher Yu left you."

Li Heng swatted her hand away irritably: "Do you think I'm stupid? With Zijin right here, how could I keep such a note on me?"

Li Lan nodded, convinced. With a tone of envy, she said: "I used to just half-heartedly tolerate Teacher Yu. This time, she's made me see her differently."

Li Heng asked: "Half-heartedly?"

Li Lan stretched: "Of course. A woman from such a background is rare—how could she truly stay with someone like us? She never felt as grounded as Zijin or Xiao Han. But now I don't think that anymore."

Li Heng listened, dazed, saying nothing.

"By the way, I saw Wang Ye last night," Li Lan suddenly said.

Li Heng turned his head: "Why bring her up?"

Li Lan said: "That woman is a brilliant businesswoman. I went to learn from her, and had dinner with Yingwen too."

Li Heng said: "True. She's a Harvard Business School graduate, spent years as editor-in-chief at Hong Kong's Ming Pao—her experience is naturally extensive."