Chapter Thirteen: Lending a Hand

When watching television dramas, Chen Liang always felt that Qin Huaiyu, this white lotus, was rather disgusting. Yet, now that he has seen the real Sha Zhu, his perspective has shifted. Suddenly, Chen Liang finds Qin Huaiyu to be quite pitiable, for just moments ago, he caught a fleeting trace of impatience and disgust deep within her eyes.

No matter the era, a sycophant is always despised by women. Unfortunately, her family lacks a man to anchor the household, and life is exceedingly hard, especially since she happens to be attractive. People instinctively prey on the weak; a widow at the helm of a household is naturally vulnerable to exploitation, and a beautiful widow even more so.

There’s a reason the ancients said widows’ doors attract trouble—it’s precisely because of this. Aside from sages, what man wouldn’t want to take advantage of a pretty widow?

On the other hand, Qin Huaiyu clearly has no interest in Sha Zhu, or she wouldn’t have strung him along for so many years in the drama, only marrying him after menopause, all because of one remark from her son Bang Gen. Don't blame it on her mother-in-law or son objecting; if Qin Huaiyu truly liked Sha Zhu and insisted on marrying him, no one would dare stop her. Does anyone think the neighborhood committee is powerless? Just slap an old-fashioned, society-disrupting label on them, and no one could withstand the pressure.

And Sha Zhu? He’s no better. He’s simply lusting after Widow Qin; otherwise, he wouldn’t have sought matchmaking later. His little dreams are quite something—he wants to play a double act, keep the home flag flying while the outside flags flutter, enjoying the blessings of a man with many wives.

So, neither Sha Zhu nor Qin Huaiyu are saints; as the saying goes, a shameless woman fits a dog—forever and always, that's these two. With a cold sneer, Chen Liang couldn’t be bothered to criticize Sha Zhu. It’s like trying to wake someone pretending to sleep; you’ll never awaken someone who willingly chooses to be a sycophant.

After receiving the braised pork Sha Zhu had prepared and plating it, Chen Liang packed it all into a lunch box from his satchel, nodded to Sha Zhu to signal their affairs were settled, and walked home.

Lying on the bed, Chen Liang pondered ways to make some money, but no good ideas came to him. In his previous life, he worked in the lucrative flour trade—though he was an undercover agent, he had mastered all the necessary skills. Beyond that, all he knew were the tricks of street hustlers and swindlers.

Damn it, had he known he’d cross over, he would never have chosen the undercover profession, no matter how promising. Learning a trade in mechanical engineering would have been far more useful!

Grass—a kind of plant!

Lost in such idle thoughts, he lay in bed until noon, when his stomach rumbled in protest, forcing him to get up reluctantly.

He went to the small kitchen, scooped a bowl of rice, washed it clean, tossed some coal into the stove, kindled the fire, set the pot for cooking, added water and rice. He took a large bowl, cracked four eggs into it, beat them until smooth, chopped some scallions, and threw them in.

After arranging four chopsticks in the pot as a rack, he placed the bowl inside, covered it with the lid, and let time do the rest.

As he warmed himself by the stove, Chen Liang sniffed at the stale odor clinging to his clothes, frowned with disgust, then suddenly slapped himself. Damn it, all these treasures and not knowing how to use them—might as well be dead, wasting air.

He slipped into the supermarket, grabbed a heap of bathing products, dashed to the staff dormitory, turned on the water heater, and washed himself until he was truly fragrant.

After changing into fresh boxers and thermal underwear, he felt reborn.

Only after quite some time, satisfied with his new self, did Chen Liang leave the supermarket. By then, the rice in the pot was just done. He took a square tong from the supermarket to retrieve the steamed eggs and chopsticks, then fetched a large bowl from the cupboard, scooped out the rice, leaving a thin layer stuck to the pot’s sides.

He gently scraped it off with a spatula, dripped a few drops of rendered pork fat, and turned the flame down low.

He let it steam for a while longer, then transferred everything to a plate, sprinkled some pepper salt—perfect! Fresh, crispy pork-fat rice crust was ready.

He placed a big chicken drumstick into the lunch box, covered it with rice, took another lunch box, scooped half the steamed eggs in, dripped some soy sauce, packed half the braised pork Sha Zhu made. When both lunch boxes were filled to the brim and sealed, he tossed them into the supermarket.

He had promised to deliver dinner for his little sister, so he prepared it ahead of time; otherwise, his mother wouldn’t have time to cook when she came home.

The rest of the rice, eggs, and braised pork went into a large bowl.

Looking at the full bowl, he smirked, “Let’s see who dares say I can’t cook this time.”

He took up a chopstick of braised pork, popped it in his mouth—his own handiwork tasted so much better. Never mind where the braised pork came from!

After eating his fill, he drank an ice-cold bottle of soda by the coal stove—bliss!

With warmth and a full belly, Chen Liang sat by the stove, mind wandering, and suddenly recalled the teacher Xiaoyu he'd just met.

Damn it, how could that woman be so gorgeous? She’s gotten him dreaming of unrequited love—who knows when he’ll finally marry a beautiful wife?

Entertainment was scarce in this era—no phones, no computers, no television, not even radios in most homes.

Boredom! Unable to bear the solitude, Chen Liang sealed the stove, closed the door, and went off eagerly to find his childhood friend.

Cao Kui didn’t live in the same courtyard as him, nor with Sha Zhu and the others, but in a courtyard opposite Sha Zhu’s.

With a cigarette dangling from his lips, Chen Liang, now an unemployed drifter, ambled over. Just as he arrived at Cao Kui’s courtyard, he saw Cao Kui leading a group out, looking fierce.

Sensing trouble, Chen Liang quickly called out, “Big Five, where are you all heading?”

Upon seeing Chen Liang, everyone’s eyes brightened—they’d almost forgotten about him.

“Liang, you’ve come at just the right time. Da Yong got into trouble today—he’s blocked at the bridge and can’t get away. I’m heading over now!”

Da Yong was another local, close to Cao Kui’s group. Although they didn’t hang out together often, helping each other out was always a given.

“Let’s go, I’ll come with you. I know all the ruffians on the bridge,” Chen Liang replied without hesitation. Though he wasn’t especially close to Da Yong’s crowd, he couldn’t let his childhood friend suffer—this was a matter he had to handle himself!