Liu Cuilan frowned and spat toward the back of Zuo Jinhui’s figure. “Tch, and you said Zhou Zhijun wasn’t that kind of person!”
“Look at how she dresses all flashy and seductive—she’s no good either.”
The police station was mostly empty, with everyone out on assignments, leaving only two female officers on duty.
Liu Cuilan claimed to be a relative of Secretary Wang and said she was sent by him to file a complaint. She grabbed Huang Meili and, adding fuel to the fire, recounted the whole story about Zhou Zhijun and Chuntao.
Only Wang Xiaohong refrained from using the term “homewrecker,” merely describing how Zhou Zhijun was unusually attentive toward Chuntao.
The female officers diligently took notes and assured them the matter would be investigated promptly.
Still uneasy, Liu Cuilan kept pressing before leaving, repeatedly urging the police to go to Dongshan’s Liu Family Ditch to apprehend the culprits. She even threatened that if they didn’t act, she would escalate the matter directly to Secretary Wang.
The officers, unwilling to get entangled with such a troublesome person, simply told her to go home and wait for further notice.
Meanwhile, Zuo Jinhui left Qingshan Commune and took a bus back to the county seat. She went straight to work but couldn’t shake the image of Zhou Zhijun tending to Chuntao in the hospital.
The way he looked at Chuntao wasn’t the gaze of a man admiring a woman—it was something deeper, an emotion no outsider could understand.
At the time, she’d heard Wang Xiaohong call Chuntao “Sister-in-law” and hadn’t thought much of it.
Now, coming to her senses, she realized how foolish she had been—not seeing the hidden affair between the two.
Zhou Zhijun’s firm rejection of her back then made perfect sense: he already had someone in his heart.
Otherwise, with her looks, how could he not have been at least a little tempted? Unless he wasn’t a normal man.
Chuntao was indeed pretty and well-proportioned. Compared to her, she couldn’t compete in looks or personality. But beauty fades with time.
Jinhui was a college graduate with a secure job as an accountant at the Foreign Trade Bureau—a respectable government position. That kind of solid skill set was something Chuntao could never match.
All morning, Zuo Jinhui was distracted and restless. Finally, when work ended, she didn’t go to the cafeteria. Instead, while the office was empty, she quickly called the commune police station.
She wanted to ask her cousin, Wu Mingwei, to clarify the truth about Zhou Zhijun and Li Chuntao.
The officer on duty said Director Wu wasn’t there. Anxiously, she waited until late afternoon to call again.
She hadn’t eaten a single grain or sipped a drop of water all day. Until she got to the bottom of this, she had no appetite at all.
Just then, Wu Mingwei had just returned from outside. Before he even sat down, his phone rang.
“Brother Mingwei, I need to ask you something…” Zuo Jinhui spoke without hesitation, telling him about what she had overheard that morning from Wang Xiaohong and the others, about the rumors.
Her tone was urgent. “Brother, please be honest with me—are Brother Zhijun and Li Chuntao really involved in some shady relationship?”
Wu Mingwei had long known about Zuo Jinhui’s feelings for Zhou Zhijun and had avoided telling her the truth about Zhou and Chuntao, fearing it would break her heart and ruin her years ahead.
Now that she was pressing him, he could only tell her the truth.
After hearing it, Jinhui’s hand trembled violently, nearly dropping the receiver.
Even hearing the truth from Wu Mingwei’s own mouth, she refused to believe it.
She couldn’t understand how she had lost to a village girl who never went to school.
Zuo Jinhui grew increasingly resentful the more she thought about it. Her eyes were red, and she bit her lip tightly, tears welling up in her eyes.
She wanted to find Zhou Zhijun and ask him why he had chosen Li Chuntao of all people. If it weren’t for Li Chuntao, would he have chosen her instead?
Down in Xiashua Village.
Chuntao’s belly was growing larger by the day, making it harder for her to move around. The weather was cold, and most of the time she just sat in bed, keeping warm under the covers.
The Laba Festival had passed, and the New Year was drawing near, but Chuntao’s heavy condition and the bitter cold outside made it impossible for her to travel home. The snow on the roads melted only to be covered again by fresh snowfall, so she had no choice but to spend the New Year at Second Aunt Zhou’s house.
Zhou Zhijun trudged through thick layers of snow, making repeated trips to the market to buy New Year’s goods—pork, fresh fish, vegetables, dried goods, rice, flour, cooking oil, along with sunflower seeds and sweets. Everything was carefully prepared.
He also got some cloth and asked Aunt Zhou to sew new cotton clothes and pants for Chuntao. He bought a bright red knitted hat and a soft, fluffy red scarf, spending several days gathering everything.
“Tao, try this on!” He gently placed the red hat on Chuntao’s head and carefully wrapped the red scarf around her neck.
Chuntao’s complexion was naturally fair and rosy, but with the red hat and scarf, her little face seemed even more radiant—more enchanting than the peach blossoms in early spring.
“Tao, you’re so beautiful. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen!” Zhou Zhijun cupped her face tenderly, a smile tugging at his lips, his eyes full of warmth and affection.
In the kitchen, Aunt Zhou and her older sister were busy steaming buns.
Bean paste buns and vegetable buns came out one after another, steaming hot. As soon as the bean paste buns were ready, they placed the vegetable buns into the steamer.
Aunt Zhou carried a small shallow bowl with two freshly steamed bean paste buns into the inner room. Seeing Chuntao’s radiant appearance, she couldn’t help but exclaim, “Oh my, you look so beautiful—like someone who just stepped out of a painting!”
Zhou Zhijun quickly chimed in, “Even more beautiful than anyone in a painting!”
“That’s right, right! No one in any painting can compare to my girl’s lively charm!” Aunt Zhou laughed so hard she could barely close her mouth.
Chuntao blushed at the compliments, shyly lowering her eyes. She reached up to take off the hat and scarf and set them aside, softly saying, “It’s warm inside, no need to wear these.”
She was right—the room was indeed very warm.
To keep her from getting cold, Zhou Zhijun had prepared two charcoal braziers, placing one at the head and one at the foot of the bed. The coals glowed bright red, spreading warmth throughout the room.
“Eat up, these just came out of the steamer and are still piping hot!” Aunt Zhou picked up a bean paste bun, blew on it a few times to cool it down, then handed it to Chuntao.
She handed another to Zhou Zhijun. “You eat too. We’ll have the vegetable buns once they’re ready!”
Since becoming pregnant, Chuntao had eaten more delicious food in these past few months than in all her previous twenty-plus years. She felt her face had grown a little rounder.
Aunt Zhou always said she shouldn’t eat too much, worried the baby would grow too big and make delivery difficult. But in practice, she was always afraid Chuntao wouldn’t eat enough or wouldn’t eat well, so she found every way possible to nourish her.
“So sweet, it’s delicious!” The bean paste bun had a thin skin and was generously filled. Chuntao took a gentle bite, and her mouth was filled with the soft, fragrant sweetness of the red bean paste.
Aunt Zhou smiled and said, “The green beans are cooked through, and I even mixed in some sweet potatoes. If you like it, after you finish eating, I’ll steam more—plenty for you!”
With that, Aunt Zhou went back to the kitchen to busy herself, leaving just the two of them in the inner room.
Zhou Zhijun noticed a few crumbs of bean paste bun clinging to Chuntao’s lips. He reached out gently to wipe them away, his fingertip lingering playfully at the corner of her mouth. His voice was full of tenderness as he said, “You’re like a little child, always so lovable.”
The warmth in his eyes was almost overflowing as he held her hand softly and whispered, “Once our two little ones are born, I’ll treat you just like them—cherish you, care for you as if you were my child, my whole life long.”
To be so cherished and held gently in someone’s heart was pure happiness.
Especially when it was Zhou Zhijun who treasured her like this, Chuntao’s lips curved even higher, her eyes shaped like crescent moons.
But as she smiled, tears suddenly slipped down quietly, two crystal-clear drops tracing her cheeks.
“Why are you crying?” Zhou Zhijun panicked at once, reaching out to gently wipe away her tears with his fingertip, his eyes full of concern.
Chuntao laughed through her tears, her voice choked with emotion, “I’m crying because I’m happy…”
That girl was always like this—crying when she was sad, and crying when she was joyful.
Zhou Zhijun bent down to tuck in the loose edge of her quilt and sighed softly, “Silly girl, how are you so easily loved?”
No sooner had he spoken than a harsh male voice came from outside the courtyard gate, “Is Zhou Zhijun home? We’re from the Qingshan Commune Police Station!”
The gentle warmth on Zhou Zhijun’s face instantly froze. He reached up to stroke Chuntao’s hair and said, “Don’t be afraid, I’ll go see who it is!”
