Chapter 96: Did the New Sister-in-Law Run Away Again?

July 11, 1982, was a Sunday, the third day after the college entrance exam.

Li Ye’s aunt, Li Mingxiang, came to his house with her family to mooch a meal.

Of course, they didn’t come empty-handed: her husband, Zhao Yuanchao, brought two rabbits, two native chickens, two bottles of baijiu, and two packs of tea for the old man.

“It’s not a holiday or festival—why bring so much stuff? Do you think we don’t have enough to feed you?”

Wu Juying scolded her younger daughter while directing her daughter-in-law, Han Chunmei, to clean the rabbits and chickens; she seemed annoyed, but was actually overjoyed.

At her age, she naturally wished for grandchildren surrounding her constantly, even though her younger daughter lived in the same Qinghe County town, visiting only once a month—she missed them dearly.

“Isn’t it because Xiao Ye finished his college exam? Isn’t it our duty as an aunt to come check on him?”

Li Mingxiang helped Han Chunmei kill and pluck the chicken, then whispered to her mother: “How did Xiao Ye do on the exam?”

Wu Juying said: “Your nephew’s gotten capable—he won’t tell me anything, but he promised me a few days ago he’d get into a university in Beijing.”

“Beijing?” Li Mingxiang lowered her voice, slyly: “Mom, I heard someone say that teacher Ke from County No. 2 High School—”

“Don’t ask!”

Wu Juying’s face darkened instantly. “No one is to ask this question again. If anyone asks you, say you don’t know. Understood?”

“Okay, Mom.”

Li Mingxiang pouted and fell silent.

At home, her mother Wu Juying was heaven itself—if she truly lost her temper, she was far more terrifying than her father, Li Zhong.

Li Mingxiang wasn’t usually gossipy, but the county was so small; people had seen Teacher Ke visit with Wen Leyu.

When Teacher Ke hadn’t returned to Beijing, many avoided her, fearing trouble.

Now that she’d been reinstated, jealous whispers and rumors had inevitably reached Li Mingxiang’s ears.

But Li Mingxiang dared not ask—others hadn’t given up, like her daughter, Zhao Meiwen.

After arriving at her grandmother’s house with her parents today, Zhao Meiwen saw her cousin Li Ye was already up and dashed over to find him.

When she entered the room, she found Li Ye deeply focused on writing.

“Fugitive in the Firestorm” had already reached over a million words and was nearing the plot point where Xiao Zhi Xianxian cuts ties; Li Ye planned to end this phase temporarily and see how things developed afterward.

For the past few months, he’d been relentlessly pressured by a bunch of bigwigs to update—exhausting, stressful, and he needed rest.

Seeing his cousin enter, Li Ye didn’t stop writing, saying casually: “Why not go play with your sisters? There’s candy in your backpack by the door—help yourself.”

Li Ye was the family’s little emperor, raised on candy; whenever this cousin visited, she always got her share.

“I don’t care about candy! I’m more interested in your novel.”

Zhao Meiwen, who considered herself a “big kid,” leaned her upper body on Li Ye’s desk, peering at his manuscript, eyes bright and lively—completely different from her peer Li Juan.

“Oh? Little Wen, you understand novels now? Tell me—how’s my novel?”

Li Ye indulged in a humblebrag, hoping to trick the girl into saying something flattering.

But Zhao Meiwen blinked, silent for a long while, offering no “Brother, you’re amazing!” praise.

Li Ye grew curious, put down his pen, and asked: “Little Wen, do you have criticism for my novel?”

Zhao Meiwen nodded: “Cousin Xiao Ye, I won’t deny your writing is good—even our teacher says so—but I think you’re too heartless.”

“I’m heartless?”

“Yes,” Zhao Meiwen said. “Zuo Lan is dead, Cui Ping’s fate is terrible too. Cousin Xiao Ye, you focus only on the big picture and ignore ordinary people’s emotions.

Human feelings are the most beautiful thing in the world worth depicting.”

“Hss~”

【This girl’s thinking is remarkably progressive!】

Li Ye realized he’d underestimated Zhao Meiwen—82’s junior high student wasn’t as dull as he thought.

But then Zhao Meiwen leaned closer to him and whispered: “Brother, do you know Qiong Yao?”

“.”

Li Ye instantly went on guard.

In the 1980s, Qiong Yao’s novels were seen by schoolteachers as floods and ferocious beasts!

Her heroines were either ethereal and detached from the mortal world, or delicate, pure, and immaculate,

or fiercely independent and aloof, or sorrowful and pitiful—capturing the hearts of countless teenagers.

Li Ye nodded: “If you mean the one from across the strait, I’ve heard of her.”

Zhao Meiwen immediately excitedly said: “Yes, her! I read her work in ‘Strait’ magazine—it’s called ‘On the Edge’—”

Zhao Meiwen launched into her storytelling talent, vividly recounting the plot of “On the Edge,” hoping to convey her personal feelings to Li Ye.

But even as she finished, Li Ye remained in his original posture and expression, utterly unmoved.

Qiong Yao’s “On the Edge,” published in mainland magazines in 1981, was earth-shattering to mainlanders unfamiliar with romance novels—the poor boy chosen by a wealthy girl overseas was pure shock.

But for Li Ye, who’d read countless “women three thousand years older than him ascend to immortality” tales, it was nothing special.

Yet when Zhao Meiwen finally delivered her “reflection,” Li Ye realized he’d been hasty.

“Cousin Xiao Ye, if a boy is truly outstanding, no matter her family background, any girl is worthy of him—fully worthy.”

【So you went through all this just to comfort me?】

Li Ye studied Zhao Meiwen’s earnest face, glanced around, then smiled: “Little Wen, did you specifically tell me this story?”

Zhao Meiwen giggled, saying nothing.

Li Ye asked directly: “Spit it out—did you hear gossip about me again?”

Zhao Meiwen, uncomfortable under his gaze, confessed: “Some classmates’ older siblings at County No. 2 High School said my… new sister-in-law went to Beijing again.”

【What new sister-in-law? What do you mean “again”?】

Li Ye could guess the gist.

Lu Jingyao had passed the exam and gone to Beijing—left.

Now Wen Leyu’s family were from Beijing, of high status—she’d leave too.

They were gloating, thinking it funny.

Li Ye scoffed: “Your classmates are saying I, Li Ye, the dumb fool, won’t learn my lesson—first Lu Jingyao, now this new sister-in-law?”

Zhao Meiwen looked embarrassed, then quickly added: “But I absolutely don’t believe it, Cousin Xiao Ye—look at Xu Zhimo! With talent, any noble lady is worthy—”

“Stop! Stop! Stop!”

What nonsense was this?

Li Ye slapped Zhao Meiwen’s head hard, making her yelp and clutch her skull.

“At your age, you must focus all your energy on studying. From now on, stop reading all this nonsense novels!”

Seeing Zhao Meiwen still defiant, Li Ye added: “I’ll tell your aunt—won’t let this trash corrupt your studies.”

Zhao Meiwen jumped up, yelling: “Cousin Xiao Ye, I’m supporting you! You can’t repay kindness with betrayal, forget gratitude, ignore good intentions!”

Teenagers in rebellion would never tolerate anyone infringing on their “freedom and rights”—they’d rise up against tyranny.

But what they always got in return was suppression.

“Vroom vroom vroom vroom~”

At that moment, rhythmic industrial noise erupted in the courtyard, interrupting the argument inside.

Li Ye’s Xingfu 250, as expected, had started up—vroom vroom vroom vroom—drawing admiration from two grown men.

Yesterday, Li Kaibian had skipped half a day’s work and, with several coworkers, built a shed in the courtyard, surrounded by waterproof tarpaulins, specifically to park the Xingfu 250.

It was like today’s people spending thousands on a doghouse for a ten-thousand-yuan pet.

Now that Zhao Yuanchao had come visiting, Li Kaibian naturally wanted to show it off.

Though Zhao Yuanchao was chief of the Beicheng Police Station, his usual patrol vehicle was a nine-tenths-new bicycle.

There was a movie then with a line: “The criminal flees on a motorcycle, we chase on bicycles!”

In 1982, not having a car wasn’t like being legless in the future—in county bureaus, motor vehicles were rare treasures, treated like sacred relics.

In a department of over a hundred people, requesting a vehicle meant filling out forms, waiting in line, and enduring endless approvals.

For grassroots units like Zhao Yuanchao’s, three-wheeled motorcycles wouldn’t be standard until the late 1980s, ending the humiliating reliance on foot patrols.

Zhao Meiwen pressed her face against the window, fascinated by the 250.

Li Ye said: “See that? It was given to me. Now do you understand what it means?”

Zhao Meiwen nodded: “I know—they all say it’s the new sister-in-law’s family’s way of repaying you, like the three hundred taels of silver in ‘The Zha Mei Case.’”

At this moment, the girl saw Li Ye as an enemy—anyone who blocked her love for Qiong Yao would get her spite.

“I—”

Li Ye forcibly suppressed the urge to hit the brat—he knew explaining only made things worse.

Actually, Zhao Meiwen’s heart was good—she’d gone through so much trouble just to encourage him to rise up and stay with Wen Leyu.

But the girl didn’t know: Wen Leyu was different from all other girls.

If Li Ye misjudged this time, he might as well admit his eyes were blind, that he could no longer see kindness in the world, and just turn dark.

Good girl or bad girl—he’d boil them all together.

(End of Chapter)