Chapter 124: I'm Not Your Woman

Everyone gathered in the central inner courtyard, bustling and lively, chatting idly while watching a model opera, like an early New Year celebration.

The front courtyard and Backyard became empty; when Lu Cheng left, everyone's attention was on the TV, and no one noticed him at all.

Sun Yan Hong's House is the one on the far west side of the front courtyard against the wall; although it's a Daozuo House that never sees sunlight, it's separated from Big Aunt Wang's house by a wall, making it a modest little courtyard, which is quite nice.

The lights were on, indicating someone was indeed home; Da Hu was watching TV at Wu Guiwen's house with his sister.

Through the thick curtain, Lu Cheng kicked the door and called, "Sister Yan Hong, are you home?"

"It's Lu Cheng, I'm here!"

Sun Yan Hong quickly opened the door and saw Lu Cheng holding two cabbages in his arms: "What are you taking the cabbages for?"

Lu Cheng slipped his body sideways as he entered, saying, "It wasn't that I was taking Da Hu for plain noodles at noon; Teacher Wu insisted Da Hu exchange cabbages. I saw your family hadn't taken any cabbages the past few days, so I brought you two."

Sun Yan Hong first closed the door to keep the air conditioning out, then hurriedly took the cabbages, placed them on the floor, fetched a small stool, and invited Lu Cheng to sit there.

"I didn't go stealing cabbages; there's still food at home. Saving a little is a little. Lu Cheng, sit there and rest for a while; I'll get you some money."

"No need to get money; two cabbages aren't worth much. If Teacher Wu doesn't want them, you can keep them for yourself."

Lu Cheng surveyed the house; although Sun Yan Hong was a single mother of two children, the interior and exterior were kept very clean.

She clearly was a diligent and capable woman.

She works at Dou Fu Fang during the day and glues matchboxes at night; the Street Office pitied Sun Yan Hong, a widowed mother, and gave her any hand‑craft work first.

Under the light, the dining table was piled with half‑finished matchboxes.

Lu Cheng took one and fiddled with it in his hand: "Sister Yan Hong, everyone else is watching TV while you're still gluing matchboxes; missing a day won't matter."

Sun Yan Hong was perched on the bed, sitting cross‑legged, flipping money at the bedside.

"Earning a little is a little; I don't want to watch TV either. As long as Da Hu takes Er Ya, it's fine."

Sun Yan Hong's claim of not wanting to watch TV was a lie; the faint TV sound from the inner courtyard could be heard inside, so she could only glue matchboxes while tilting her ear to listen.

"Here, you take the money; I don't know if it's enough."

Lu Cheng took the money and placed it on the table: "I already said I don't want money; it's just two cabbages. Why be so formal with me?"

Sun Yan Hong picked up the money again from the table: "You keep it; I'm not being formal with you. When money's involved, I don't want you to lose out."

Lu Cheng grabbed her hand, pinched it twice, and placed it on his own shoulder.

"If you still feel uneasy, give my shoulder a squeeze."

Sun Yan Hong smiled with a pursed mouth: "Fine, I'll squeeze you; even men who already have wives come to me—aren't they afraid of gossip?"

Sun Yan Hong's hand was still quite soft, and Lu Cheng closed his eyes in bliss, his occiput resting against her lower abdomen.

"The two of us are perfectly innocent; you're not afraid, what am I afraid of?"

Sun Yan Hong's hands pressed harder as she whispered, "I am a widow whose husband died; widows attract all sorts of gossip, and I'm used to anyone saying whatever they want. But you're different—you have a stable job, a beautiful wife; being the subject of gossip wouldn't be good for you."

Lu Cheng said nothing, swaying his head side to side, and under Sun Yan Hong's kneading, felt only one word—comfort.

"By the way, Lu Cheng, may I ask you something?"

"What is it?"

"Why haven't you and Qing Yan held a wedding? I want to eat your wedding sweets but can't."

"Oh, that? We had agreed at the time; her parents are dealing with something now, so after the reunion we'll make up the wedding."

Inside the house, Sun Yan Hong stared at the thick, broad shoulders under her eyelids, becoming momentarily dazed.

She still remembered a few years ago he was just a teenage boy, and in the blink of an eye he had grown into a man.

If her own husband hadn't died, things would be better; the three of them wouldn't be so impoverished.

"Lie on the bed; I'll knead your waist."

Lu Cheng lifted his head, and Sun Yan Hong teased, "What, you're scared now?"

"Just kidding; there's also something my Lu San'er wouldn't dare."

Lu Cheng got up, rushed to the inner bedroom's bed, lay down, and said, "If you don't drive me away, I can just sleep here tonight."

Seeing Lu Cheng didn't refuse at all, Sun Yan Hong said thoughtfully, "I now even suspect you deliberately had Teacher Wu buy the TV, and then you conveniently came to my house."

"You've really wronged me! I was just being kind, bringing you cabbages."

Sun Yan Hong covered her mouth with a laugh, walked over, and placed both hands on Lu Cheng's lower back.

"Fine, I trust you. Actually, I also want to talk to you; with no man at home, there are some ideas I, as a woman, can't decide on."

Lu Cheng kept his eyes closed, enjoying, "What is it?"

"This morning, Uncle Lao Sun came looking for me."

"Uncle Lao Sun?" Lu Cheng turned his body, recalling the last time they soaked, when he suggested Lao Sun's public bathhouse to find two female comrades to do foot‑reflexology.

"Hold still!" Sun Yan Hong continued massaging his waist, saying, "Uncle Lao Sun asked me whether I want to learn foot‑reflexology."

Lu Cheng, lying on the pillow, murmured, "Did you agree?"

Sun Yan Hong shook her head: "I haven't decided; Dou Fu Fang pays low wages and is a collective unit that everyone looks down on, but the public bathhouse at least has a formal position. Should I go?"

Lu Cheng replied, "You said you haven't decided, which shows your hesitation stems from being a single woman—how can you go to tend men's feet?"

Sun Yan Hong nodded without denying, "Yes, I feel I can't lower my face; holding a man's feet every day—what kind of talk that is!"

"Also, if I actually go to the bathhouse, it's always night shifts; I still have to take care of my children, so the timing is inconvenient. Yet the place offers a formal position, and missing this chance would be a pity, so I'm truly undecided."

In this era, workers enjoy high status; no matter how skilled or how much you earn, without a formal position you're looked down upon.

So Sun Yan Hong's indecision about this matter is completely normal.

"If you ask my opinion, I wouldn't recommend you go."

Sun Yan Hong was a little surprised; today she discussed this with Big Aunt Wang, who strongly approved—what's wrong with foot‑reflexology? Even if it's embarrassing, at least it's a formal position.

So many people scramble for it, yet still can't get it; Uncle Lao Sun also sees that it's not easy for a widow, so he gave her a chance.

Sun Yan Hong increased the pressure of her kneading hands a few notches; otherwise, Lu Cheng, wearing a Cotton-padded Jacket, wouldn't feel it through.

"Why?"

Lu Cheng sprawled there, replying with a satisfied tone, "Because I don't want you to fawn over other men's feet."

Sun Yan Hong gave him a tap on the back and scolded, "You men are really selfish—full of all sorts of whims yourself, yet you won't let your own women interact with other men."

Lu Cheng laughed, "Then you're right; we men are all selfish."

"But I'm not your woman!"

Sun Yan Hong drifted off, murmuring to herself, "I really don't want to give up this chance to get a placement. I don't have any grand wishes; I just want a stable job and to raise the two children…"