Chapter Forty-Three: The New Year Has Arrived

As the saying goes, "An elder in the family is a treasure," and there’s not a shred of falsehood in those words. These days, Sha Zhu is being shaped more and more by the deaf old lady’s tutelage; aside from that incessant chatter of his, which sometimes makes Chen Liang wish he could sew his mouth shut, Sha Zhu is finally getting on the right track.

After all these changes in recent days, even Chen Liang’s sister-in-law is now willing to help put in a good word for him with her plastic best friend Liu Siyuan, and the two have already agreed on a time to meet.

While hope is blossoming on Sha Zhu’s side, life has become utterly miserable for Yi Zhonghai and the Widow Qin’s family.

First, after regaining consciousness, Yi Zhonghai had his wife deliver 1,200 yuan to Sha Zhu, claiming he was merely safekeeping the money and would return it once Sha Zhu got married. He spread this story far and wide—whether others believed it or not, he had no choice but to do so. Otherwise, should he be branded a greedy man, that would truly be a case of losing both the chicken and the rice.

Yi Zhonghai also resigned from his position as the head of the neighborhood and cut all ties with the Jia family. No matter how much Widow Qin came crying and begging at his door, his response was always the same: there’s no money and no food at home, nothing at all. In the end, the old ginger is still the spiciest; Yi Zhonghai now knows that he stands at the eye of the storm, and the more he does, the more mistakes he makes. The best strategy is to do nothing—just close the door and live quietly with his wife, ignoring everything else. He can only hope to weather this period and wait for the storm to pass, letting time gradually erase all that has happened.

As for Widow Qin, her plight is even more pitiful. When she was still at work, she could rely on Yi Zhonghai’s protection and only had to deal with light and easy tasks each day. Now? Yi Zhonghai himself is like a clay statue trying to cross a river—barely able to save himself, let alone worry about her.

Now, every day's work is backbreaking for Widow Qin. The workshop director, Guo the Lame, keeps picking faults with her all day long. By the time she returns home, exhausted in body and spirit, there’s no peace to be found. Jia Zhang cares nothing for her troubles; as long as she feels shortchanged, she won’t have it. She’ll berate and curse, never ceasing her gluttony at the table.

The old one is troublesome, and the young ones are little tyrants, clamoring for meat every day, wearing Widow Qin to the bone. One day, as she washed clothes, she caught sight of herself in the washbasin’s water and was stunned. The woman reflected there had a numb, pale face and an unkempt appearance. She no longer resembled a pretty widow of thirty but looked worse than a fifty-year-old matron.

She stood by the sink, dazed for a long time until Jia Zhang’s shrill scolding brought her back to her senses. If you ask what matters most to a woman, I can tell you clearly: it is her face.

Like a walking corpse, Widow Qin returned home and looked at Jia Zhang, who was once again cursing obliquely. Suddenly, she understood! How was she any different from the old Sha Zhu? Both were simply blood cows, bound and sucked dry by the Jia family until nothing remained, then cast aside.

Once she figured it out, Widow Qin instantly regained her former strength. That noon, after cooking, she called no one and ate her fill first. When she was done, she paid no mind to the leftovers, simply dusted herself off and left. She went to the bathhouse for a good soak and, upon returning home, was set upon by Jia Zhang, who threw herself at her like a fat, round ball.

“Well, you little hussy, is this how you do things? Eat by yourself and ignore your son?” Jia Zhang screeched.

Widow Qin smiled calmly. “If I don’t eat, am I supposed to save it for you? If you think I’m so terrible, I’ll return the Jia family’s job and go my own way!”

She knew exactly where to squeeze. Her remarrying was Jia Zhang’s sore spot—one touch and she went limp. Instantly, Jia Zhang changed her face and began to play the emotional card. “Huairu, Mom didn’t mean it like that! It’s just the food is too little, not enough for the children.”

Widow Qin didn’t even glance at her. “Then you eat less. With all that fat, you should be able to go hungry for quite some time.”

“You—Qin Huairu, don’t go too far! I’m still your mother-in-law!” Jia Zhang protested.

Emotionlessly, Widow Qin replied, “You are only my mother-in-law if I say so. If I say you aren’t, then you are nothing. Do you understand?”

Her tone was flat, but it sent chills down Jia Zhang’s spine.

Widow Qin continued, “From now on, each month, I’ll give you half my wages. You’ll be responsible for the family’s meals, and I’ll save the rest for Banggen’s future wedding.”

Panicked, Jia Zhang protested, “Impossible, that’s not enough! You—”

“Don’t force me, or I’ll really leave. Then you won’t even get half.”

With that, Widow Qin ignored Jia Zhang’s sour expression, tidied herself up to look more spirited, and left without so much as a glance at the housework.

Now, Widow Qin was desperate to find Sha Zhu; she believed that as long as she could coax him back, everything would return to how it was. But things didn’t go as she wished. She didn’t even see Sha Zhu—she was sent away by the deaf old lady, catching only a glimpse of his resolute back.

A wave of despair swept over her—Sha Zhu no longer even bothered to speak a word to her.

Unwilling to give up, Widow Qin tried to intercept him several more times, but in the end, when Sha Zhu treated her as if she were nothing but air, she finally turned away, lost and defeated.

Chen Liang never imagined that Sha Zhu, the ultimate doormat, would one day awaken.

Still, it was a good thing. To celebrate Sha Zhu’s awakening, on February 12, 1964, the eve of the Lunar New Year, Chen Liang proposed that their families spend the holiday together. The whole Chen family welcomed the idea, especially Chen Rong, who gave her full support.

As soon as Sha Zhu received the money from Yi Zhonghai, he bought his sister Yushui a bicycle. Don’t underestimate a top-notch chef—especially after Sha Zhu had secured his position in the library’s kitchen, his reputation soared!

Now, in all of Beijing, who hasn’t heard of Sha Zhu, the heir to the Tan Family Cuisine at the City Library?

For Sha Zhu, getting a bicycle ticket was no trouble at all.

Chen Rong now rode on He Yushui’s bicycle every day, the two girls inseparable as they went to and from school, their friendship deepening. Now, even the New Year would be spent together—of course Chen Rong approved. She even ran ahead to tell He Yushui, and the two girls spent their days imagining how lavish their New Year’s Eve dinner would be, drooling in anticipation and dreaming with regretful longing.