Chapter 17

The man took the lunchbox but didn’t leave; instead, he stared at Wang Xuejiao’s face for a long time. Startled, Wang Xuejiao thought she must have revealed some flaw. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“The car’s been brought back. Why are you still so downcast?”

Wang Xuejiao’s mind flickered. She took out the one-hundred-yuan bill. “I sold a little at the general office earlier, but the bill I got back was fake. Sigh, it’s all for nothing after working half the day.”

The man took the bill, felt it casually, and said to her, “This one’s real.”

“Ah? But the Braille feels flat, and the watermark looks fake.”

“That’s how it looks when it’s worn. If you don’t believe me, I’ll swap it with you.” To prove his sincerity, he actually took a one-hundred-yuan note from his inner pocket and handed it to her.

Wang Xuejiao shook her head. “Forget it. If it’s real, I can spend it; if it’s fake, won’t you suffer a loss? Though I’m poor, I wouldn’t do something that harms others for my own benefit.”

“It’s real.” The man pocketed the money and took the lunchbox back inside.

This time he wasn’t so cautious; the door remained wide open. From Wang Xuejiao’s angle, she could see a bed and a three-person sofa inside.

The space was quite large, decorated just like the printing room outside, without any finishing touches.

Just having a bed and sofa didn’t mean much—wasn’t it normal for people to work night shifts?

Nothing seemed unusual.

“Ah, you’re here!” A lively, clear voice sounded nearby.

Wang Xuejiao turned to see it was Xiao Jinhua.

Seeing Wang Xuejiao, she excitedly pulled a plastic bag from her bag. “This is for you!”

“What’s this?” Wang Xuejiao looked inside. It was a square piece of pure wool sheepskin, the fur long and thick, feeling very warm and substantial. It measured about a square meter.

The tanning was excellent; only when close could one smell a faint sheep scent.

Xiao Jinhua said, “New Year’s coming. Our village slaughtered some sheep, and my family sent me this sheepskin. You can lay it on your bed—it’s so comfortable.”

“That’s such a big piece of sheepskin. It must be expensive,” Wang Xuejiao tried to decline.

“It’s not expensive. Our village raises the sheep ourselves. People there wear whole sheepskins. I’m in the city and can’t wear a sheepskin coat. I already have one to put on my bed, so I’m giving this to you. Last time you gave me a double portion of meat; consider this as returning the favor.”

In Xiao Jinhua’s eyes, this boss was like Li Juan—truly wanting to help her. Otherwise, who would give double? Her business was good, not unsellable.

Wang Xuejiao wanted to refuse, but Xiao Jinhua insisted, shoving the sheepskin into her arms. “Take it.”

Then she turned and ran off.

“This is so valuable. I can’t accept it,” Wang Xuejiao called after her.

She chased, Xiao Jinhua fled.

Wang Xuejiao deliberately steered Xiao Jinhua towards the inner room, and sure enough, Xiao Jinhua ran to the doorway of the inner room, where Wang Xuejiao caught up easily.

The men inside were laughing and joking, watching the scene. One shouted loudly, “Just take it already! Sheepskin’s worthless around here.”

“Oh, you’re too kind,” Wang Xuejiao replied with a smile.

Speaking to someone was basic courtesy, and Wang Xuejiao naturally took in every detail of the inner room.

When she wanted to remember something, her memory was especially sharp—something her boss admired greatly, which helped her land a job at that company where she worked on PowerPoint slides late into the night. Despite frequent overtime, the benefits were among the best nationwide during the economic downturn.

She noticed some marks on the floor, as if something had once been there but was now removed.

While insisting that such a large sheepskin deserved payment and asking how much it cost, her eyes swiftly scanned every visible corner before settling back.

Xiao Jinhua refused stubbornly, not accepting any money. Wang Xuejiao finally left with the sheepskin.

Back at her stall, Wang Xuejiao was shocked to see: Qian Gang, shameless as ever, was already eating!!!

His lips glistened with grease as he hungrily devoured a large, steaming braised pork knuckle. When a passerby asked for the price, he didn’t even answer but just pointed to the sign nearby.

He looked up and caught Wang Xuejiao’s angry gaze.

“I only ate one!” Qian Gang jumped up nervously, quickly shoving the bones wrapped in a bag behind the car wheel with his toes.

Wang Xuejiao snorted coldly. “Stop hiding them. Pick them up. Don’t make the cleaners angry. What if I find more than one bone in the bag? What will you say then?”

“I’d say... that pig has bone spurs!” Qian Gang forced a laugh. “How about this: you go back, and come take over the stall tomorrow morning. You give me the rest of the braised meat as your pay.”

The remaining meat could probably sell for five portions, earning about one hundred and fifty yuan.

Still, returning home early in the midday sun during the coldest season was a joy.

Besides, Qian Gang had indeed helped cover her shift for a long time. After thinking it over, Wang Xuejiao agreed to his proposal.

Cradling the sheepskin, Wang Xuejiao hailed a taxi and gave the name of a residential complex.

That complex belonged to the elderly woman who had taught Wang Xuejiao how to make braised dishes.

The old lady’s name was Ding Xiao. Before Liberation, she had been a child bride for the son of a restaurant owner.

Though called a child bride, she was essentially unpaid labor.

There was no such thing as women being too weak to tend fires, unable to prepare the red meat dishes, or incapable of kneading dough for the white dishes—none of that existed.

If you did a poor job, you’d be beaten.

She entered the kitchen at four years old, learning to tend fires. By thirteen, she managed all kitchen affairs, and at eighteen, became the head chef. After Liberation, she worked in a state-run restaurant, continuing in the trade.

After coaxing her down from the rooftop, Wang Xuejiao still worried she might despair. So, following the newly established but rarely enforced follow-up policy, she came to check on her.

She found that Ding Lao Tai was not short of money; her appliances and furniture surpassed those of most households.

That day on the rooftop was a statement.

Wang Xuejiao had seen such things before—it was the same routine as migrant workers who, unable to get their year-end pay, climbed rooftops, utility poles, or bridges in protest. They didn’t truly want to die.

Knowing this truth, Wang Xuejiao didn’t blame Ding Lao Tai for wasting police resources but advised her to choose a gentler method next time, especially not to stand so close to the edge. If she fell, it would be disastrous. Even if rescued, the fall could cause bruises or broken bones.

At first, Ding Lao Tai thought Wang Xuejiao was just doing her job, but when she realized Wang Xuejiao was on her side and cared for her, her defenses relaxed considerably.

The old lady told Wang Xuejiao, “There’s no one left in my family. I feel a connection with you. Could you come by and talk to me when you have time?”

Wang Xuejiao thought her temperament resembled that of her late grandmother, who had been very kind to her before passing many years ago. Moved, she agreed.

Whenever she had some free time, Wang Xuejiao came over to help clean, air out the bedding, and chat with her.

These days, Wang Xuejiao worked from ten in the morning until ten at night and barely had time to visit. When Ding Lao Tai saw her at the door, her face lit up with joy despite her complaints: “Ah, why haven’t you come for so long?”

“It’s the end of the year; work’s been busy,” Wang Xuejiao said, placing some oranges she had bought on the table.

Ding Lao Tai’s home needed little cleaning—nothing like the battles waged by housekeepers like Ma Li, who dealt with elderly hoarders.

There were no ancient cardboard boxes, plastic bags, or kimchi jars, nor rice and flour stored for decades.

Even the clothes were made from modern fabrics and styles, and there were no tattered old cotton quilts. The cotton was fluffed every year, and the bedding replaced every five or six years.

In an era when most people “use new things for three years, old things for three years, patch and mend for another three,” replacing things every five or six years was a luxury.

The old lady explained, “I sew so badly that patched clothes keep me awake at night. It’s better not to sew at all.”

Wang Xuejiao thought to herself—ah, so this is what they call OCD.

Like all elders, Ding Lao Tai was very concerned about Wang Xuejiao’s marriage prospects, but from a different perspective.

Her husband and child had died during the Liberation War. She never remarried, and even when introduced by the organization, she refused.

Remaining faithful was a traditional virtue, and as a martyr’s family member, remarrying was unthinkable.

Ding Lao Tai told Wang Xuejiao that it wasn’t just about faithfulness; she simply enjoyed living alone. The union would bring more trouble than comfort. The union rest home occasionally sent someone to check on her. She was healthy and capable, with no need to adapt to living with a stranger.

She also advised Wang Xuejiao to marry only someone she truly liked. Otherwise, even minor disagreements could escalate into fierce arguments. Ding Lao Tai said she and her late husband only grew fond of each other during the country’s turmoil and shared hardships.

“When I was at Lu Ji Restaurant, just seeing him annoyed me. I hated him so much I wished I could strangle him.”

However, her health was indeed declining. She felt cold at night but, like many elderly, refused to use an electric blanket, fearing she might forget to turn it off and cause a fire.

So after getting the sheepskin, Wang Xuejiao decided to bring it to the old lady.

Ding Lao Tai accepted it without hesitation, brewed some tea, and began sharing stories: “Don’t look at me now, skinny as a skeleton dangling on withered vines. Back at Liberation, I even helped the army catch bad guys.”

She recounted with great animation, “There was a man named Gu Zhengang who loved eating at our restaurant. When the Liberation Army came asking about him, many had already fled to the island. I thought he had left too, but he disappeared for a few days, then sneaked back to eat here. I secretly added some croton seed to his dish. Just as he left, he ran to the bathroom and stayed there until they caught him! Hahaha…” The old lady laughed so hard her false teeth nearly fell out.

As night fell, Wang Xuejiao said she had to leave. Ding Lao Tai asked her to wait and pulled a key from the drawer: “I’m moving to a nursing home tomorrow. I’m old and weak and need care. Please look after this place for me. When I die, I’ll leave it to you.”

“Ah?” Wang Xuejiao was stunned.