Chapter 18: Green Hat

Inside the room.

Lin Xuan’s tears fell, muffled as she wept; Lin Zheng’s eyes were slightly red, but she didn’t cry.

This clearly shows the difference in character between the two little girls.

Lin Zhao told Lin Xibao to take her washbasin outside to fetch water, then pulled the two girls into her arms and asked softly, “Has your mother always been like this? Has she given you girls the fabric meant for you to your cousin?”

“Yes, I saw it,” Lin Zheng said.

Lin Xuan nodded along.

One was nine, the other seven, yet they were unnaturally mature. They were born into the Lin family, where boys weren’t favored over girls—yet their situation should’ve been good.

Lin Xuan was older than Lin Zheng, but her nature was soft; she lacked the courage to speak up like her younger sister.

She kept her head down, silent.

Lin Zhao asked, “Does your second uncle know?”

Lin Zheng glanced at her sister Lin Xuan, then shook her head. “Dad’s exhausted from work. My sister and I didn’t want to trouble him.”

She actually wanted to tell their father, but her sister feared a fight between their parents, so she gave up.

“You should’ve spoken up,” Lin Zhao said clearly. “If you don’t say anything, you’re enabling your mother. If this continues, she’ll take even more from the Lin household and send it to her family.”

The two girls had been raised by Qiu Lian to have no innocence left. Especially Lin Zheng—she was far more mature than her peers. She lowered her head, thinking over what her aunt had said.

Lin Xibao entered with the washbasin, set it down beside the basin stand by the door, and stood tall, chest out. “Auntie, the water’s here.”

“Xibao, you’re so capable,” Lin Zhao praised, wetting a towel and wiping the girls’ faces.

Then, as if by magic, she pulled out the snow cream she’d brought and rubbed it onto both nieces’ faces.

“Look at your faces—so dark from the sun. Little girls like you should avoid going out when it’s blazing hot. Sunburn ruins your skin.”

Xibao watched enviously as her aunt applied the snow cream to Xuanxuan and Zhengzheng.

Hearing this, she whispered, “Auntie, it’s not Xuanxuan and Zhengzheng who go out in the heat—it’s Second Aunt. She won’t let them rest. She makes them gather firewood, dig wild vegetables, and pick mushrooms in the scorching sun. I tried to persuade Second Aunt, but she said…”

Xibao stuck out her waist, imitating Qiu Lian’s sarcastic tone: “Big Sister, I’m not like you with two sons to rely on. I only gave birth to two little girls. If they don’t work hard, who else can I depend on? Besides, does getting sunburned mean you’ll heatstroke? How delicate can you be?”

Lin Zhao’s lip twitched.

I told you to imitate, not to outdo.

This little drama queen.

“Does your second uncle know?”

Xibao shook her head quickly. “No. Second Aunt acts so sweet in front of him—she’s a total two-faced hypocrite.”

Lin Zhao had been furious at Qiu Lian’s behavior, but hearing “two-faced hypocrite,” she nearly laughed.

“Who taught you that phrase?”

Xibao’s cheeks flushed. “I heard it from a sent-down youth sister.”

The sent-down youth movement had been going on for years; both Dongfeng and Fengshou brigades had them.

“How are the sent-down youths behaving? Any troublemakers?” Lin Zhao asked curiously.

“Yes! Lots!” Xibao beamed. “The sent-down youth compound is crazy. Those kids cause trouble every day—complaining about the food, complaining about the living conditions, always making a fuss. The brigade leader called them shit-stirrers. Now everyone avoids them.”

She watched the spectacle every day—she knew everything.

“You go watch every day?” Lin Zhao chuckled.

“Huh?” Xibao frowned. “How did you know?”

How did she know?

Of course—ever since Xibao couldn’t walk yet, she’d loved crowds. Wherever there was noise, her eyes went there. If she missed out on gossip, she’d wail.

Lin Zhao didn’t answer. Instead, she told Xibao: “Xibao, if your second aunt ever bullies Xuanxuan or Zhengzheng again, shout for your grandma or your second uncle. Understood?”

Xibao looked at Lin Xuan. She’d wanted to call out before, but Xuanxuan stopped her.

The little girl frowned, looking troubled.

Though young, Lin Zheng understood her aunt was thinking of her and her sister. She said seriously, “Thank you, Auntie! If Mother takes anything from home again, I’ll tell Grandma!”

Lin Xuan struggled inside.

Qiu Lian had brainwashed her; her nature was weak, and she dared not resist.

But.

Seeing her sister’s bright eyes, she said nothing to upset her.

Lin Zhao sensed Xuanxuan’s unease and sighed inwardly. This temperament was too weak. I hope it’s not too late.

She told the three girls to stay inside until mealtime, then went out for a stroll. She found Lin Shisheng and spoke a few words.

When Lin Erge heard Qiu Lian had been secretly tormenting his daughters, his expression turned icy.

“Why didn’t Xuanxuan and Zhengzheng tell me?” He regretted spending these past days working early and late, neglecting to watch that ungrateful woman.

Lin Zhao didn’t blame the two nieces—they were still children. What did they know? They were just influenced by adults.

Thinking of Qiu Lian’s behavior, her eyes flashed coldly. “It must be what Qiu Lian said. Good children bury their pain inside. They’re probably too afraid to speak.”

Lin Shisheng frowned tightly.

“I understand. I’ll pay attention,” he said.

Lin Zhao knew her second brother had strong willpower—he’d find a way. After telling him, she left it be.

She had no affection for Qiu Lian or her entire family.

In the original novel—

Years later, Qiu Lian had an affair with a widower from her home village, got pregnant with a bastard child, and tried to make her second brother wear the green hat. He found out, crippled the lover, and divorced the woman.

Before the Lin family even reacted, Qiu Lian felt Lin Shisheng had trampled her dignity, betrayed their marriage, and even helped the lover file charges of intentional injury against her second brother.

The lover used connections to get Lin Shisheng imprisoned for two years. When he was released, Qiu Lian used Lin Xuan and Lin Zheng to cause him endless trouble.

The novel even claimed the Lin family was heartless—after all, Qiu Lian had married into the Lin family for years, bore Lin Shisheng children, wasted her youth. He should’ve paid her alimony.

That was the original text.

Lin Zhao nearly threw up.

What bizarre values!

You don’t know how repulsive it is to wear the green hat unless it’s on your own head.

Watching her sister storm off, Lin Shisheng’s angry eyes softened with amusement.

Thinking of Qiu Lian and her family, his face darkened again.

While Lin Zhao was stoking the fire in the Lin household, Gu Chenghuai received his wife’s letter.

He’d just returned to his dormitory when a comrade tossed him a letter.

“Chenghuai, your letter.”

Gu Chenghuai’s brow twitched slightly—surprised someone would write to him. He took the letter, glanced at the familiar handwriting on the envelope, and his pupils shrank sharply.

His wife’s handwriting.

She actually thought to write him? How unusual.

“Thanks.”

After thanking his comrade, Gu Chenghuai sat on the edge of his bed, tore open the envelope, and began reading.

【Gu Chenghuai, I’m furious!】

That was the first line.

One sentence hooked Gu Chenghuai’s attention.

The handsome young officer, whose features were as rugged as a pine on a cliff, froze.

His comrade watched curiously, wondering what could have made his usually unshakable friend change expression.

【Your sister pushed me to the ground. I hit my head and got a bowl-sized bump. I nearly died!】

That was the second line.

Gu Chenghuai’s heart lurched. His brow tightened. He had an overwhelming urge to call Lin Zhao and ask how she was—but remembered the village had no phone access, so he forced himself to keep reading.

【Your sister says I live off you, that I’m a freeloader! She says I’m draining your blood! Gu Chenghuai, am I a freeloader? Am I draining your blood? Tell me! Right now!】

Reading this, Gu Chenghuai imagined his wife’s fiery eyes, her deep black pupils flickering with amusement. His lips curled. The ruthless aura around him softened.

I say—I say.

A man supports his wife and children. Freeloader? Draining blood? Nonsense.

That was his inner thought.

His wife took care of four children—she was exhausted too.

Sun Yeli kept glancing at Gu Chenghuai. Seeing this, he grew even more curious.

Gu Dog’s acting like this—the letter’s from his wife, right?

【Gu Chenghuai, listen to me—I’m getting a job! I’m going to work! I’m earning my own money! When I earn it, I’ll spend it however I want!】

Work?

Gu Chenghuai’s mind raced. He had comrades who’d been demobilized back home—he could ask if any jobs were available. Hard to find, yes, but if he looked slowly, he’d find something.

He didn’t care whether Zhaozhao worked or not. His monthly allowance was 85 yuan, plus mission bonuses—enough for the whole family. But if his wife wanted to work, he wouldn’t oppose it.

Gu Chenghuai kept reading.

Next, Lin Zhao forbade him from paying for his sister Gu Xing’er’s tuition and living expenses anymore.

The young officer showed no reaction, no objection.

With parents alive, Gu Xing’er’s education costs shouldn’t have been his burden in the first place. He paid extra only to ensure the family treated his wife and children better because of the money.

Now it seemed Gu Xing’er felt no gratitude—only resentment. Fine. He’d stop helping.

The letter also said he should find a way to get bricks and tiles—their house was crumbling, covered in dust.

Gu Chenghuai had no objection—he’d always said they’d build a brick-and-tile house; originally, his wife hadn’t wanted to, but now that she’d changed her mind, they’d build it—he’d handle the bricks and tiles!

The young officer’s gaze continued downward.

It was the final paragraph of the letter.

【…After reading this letter, forget it—especially when on mission, don’t think about home. Mother’s on my side, I can handle this myself. Stay safe—I and the four kids are waiting for you to come home.】

In the end, what she worried about was whether it might affect Gu Chenghuai.

Sweet warmth flooded Gu Chenghuai’s heart; his brows curved downward, and his dark eyes, like cold stars, softened with gentle amusement.

He tucked the letter away, placing it with the ones Lin Zhao had sent every few days when they’d first married. Years had passed without a new one—he’d often grumbled in his heart about Lin Zhao’s neglect.

Back when they’d first started seeing each other, she’d wanted to be the red star on his cap, clinging to him constantly; after she got pregnant, perhaps she’d felt secure, and then half a year passed without a single letter, until eventually, none came at all.

Back then, he’d always go to the letter room—always empty—and that ache of disappointment still lingered vividly.

From Lin Zhao’s letter, Gu Chenghuai saw the young Lin Zhao of their courtship days; an unbidden joy spread through his chest—not overwhelming, but impossible to ignore.

Seeing Gu Chenghuai’s steps light and quick, as if leaving, Sun Yeli followed, winking and grinning: “Your wife’s letter?”

“Mm.” Gu Chenghuai didn’t deny it.

“I knew it.” Sun Yeli added, “Where are you going?”

“To call.” He left three words, then quickened his pace, vanishing swiftly from Sun Yeli’s sight.

Sun Yeli wanted to say more, but could only watch that tall, imposing figure disappear. “Does it really need to be this urgent?” he muttered, yet didn’t follow—instead, he returned to his dorm and lay down.

Gu Chenghuai arrived at the letter room.

“Captain Gu,” the duty soldier rose and saluted.

Gu Chenghuai returned the salute, his voice cool and clear: “I’m here to make a call.”

At this time, calls required transfers; the duty soldier scrambled through connections until Gu Chenghuai reached the person he wanted.

“Hello?” A bright, youthful voice came through the line.

“Junzhi, it’s me—Gu Chenghuai.”

Yang Jun’s face lit up in delighted surprise. “Chenghuai? When did you get time to call me? What’s up? If I can help, I won’t refuse.”

He and Chenghuai were comrades and friends—men who’d shouldered rifles together.

“I really do need something,” Gu Chenghuai’s deep, pleasant voice traveled through the wire.

“What is it?” Yang Jun asked, curious but relaxed.

Gu Chenghuai said: “I want to ask—do you know of any job openings around there?”

Yang Jun worked at the county government under Fengshou Team—he was well-informed and well-connected; asking him about jobs was always the right move.

“A job?” Yang Jun instantly understood, curious: “For whom? Your wife? By the way, when are you coming home on leave? We haven’t seen each other in years.”

“I’ll contact you when I get back,” Gu Chenghuai said. “Keep an eye out for job opportunities.”

Thinking of Lin Zhao’s letter, his sharp features softened. “My wife’s bored at home and wants to find something to do. I thought of you—money’s no issue. Help me look.”

“Easy,” Yang Jun laughed. “You’re asking at the perfect time—the Supply and Marketing Cooperative needs two clerks. Light work, respectable. I remember your wife graduated high school—she’d be perfect.”

It was pure luck: the county’s Supply and Marketing Cooperative was expanding, adding new counters, needing exactly two people. Usually, internal candidates filled these spots—exams were just formalities. His brother-in-law was the cooperative’s director and held one slot—originally meant to be sold. But since a comrade asked, he’d save it for him.

“Alright, I owe you one. Tell me how much—I’ll wire it over.” Gu Chenghuai thought the clerk job was ideal—just sitting and selling goods, fairly easy.

If it were a factory job, he’d have hesitated—his wife was slight, couldn’t handle hard labor. A clerk was better—light, easy.

Yang Jun didn’t refuse payment. “We’re family—six hundred’s enough.”

Clerk positions were in high demand; outside, people paid seven hundred. His price was genuinely fair.

Gu Chenghuai planned to send eight hundred—he knew how valuable a job was. He wouldn’t let his comrade lose money just to help him.

“There’s another thing—my family wants to build a brick-and-tile house. We need an approval slip. You—”

Before he finished, Yang Jun cut in: “Easy. A snap. I’ll handle it—guaranteed, done right.”

“Thanks. I’ll treat you to dinner when I get back.”

Yang Jun’s voice carried a smile. “Alright, I’ll be waiting.”

After hanging up, he took some gifts and went to see his brother-in-law to secure the slot.