“Dad, Zhou Zhijun is back!”
Wang Jinzhi came running home in a panic. Seeing Zhou Dana sitting in the main room smoking, she hurried inside, taking three steps in two.
Zhou Dana was startled too, but quickly put on an unconcerned look. “He’s back. What’s there to make such a fuss about?”
“Do you think he’ll let the matter with the riverbank go?”
“Bidding for the riverbank was open to whoever offered the most. That’s only fair. What can he do about it?”
“That may be true, but Qian Wanyin isn’t from Wangjia Village. Is it even legal for him to contract our village’s riverbank?”
“Why wouldn’t it be? Who said it had to be contracted by someone from our own village?
“Besides, I had Zhou Xiaowei go call him over at the time. He was the one who said he didn’t want it! Zhang Dongsheng and the others even went all the way to Qingshan Street to look for him, but he secretly slipped away.
“He didn’t want to take the contract, and now he won’t let anyone else have it?”
Only then did Wang Jinzhi let out a sigh of relief. “You’re right. If he comes asking questions, we’ve got an answer for him.”
She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Pandi’s illness nearly took her life this time! I tried to persuade her last night, and she’s finally agreed to get married. What do you think? Should we go tell the Bald Immortal and have him take word to the Liang family? We can settle the engagement first, then choose an auspicious day for the wedding.
“Maybe it really could work. Once she’s healthy, being poor isn’t a big deal. As long as they’ve got two working hands, they won’t starve!”
Zhou Dana’s cousin’s family was famously poor in the village. He was deeply unwilling, but for the sake of saving Zhou Pandi’s life, he could only agree.
“There’s no need to go looking for him. He’ll come knocking on our door himself!” Though Zhou Dana had agreed, he still refused to lower himself by chasing after the man.
“Dad, Mom, Tao, I’m back!”
The old couple weren’t home. Chuntao was the only one in the yard.
In her left hand, she held a cloth Sun Wukong doll that was almost finished, while her right hand held a needle and thread as she sewed the final few stitches.
At the sound of the call, her hand jerked. The needle pierced the tip of her finger, and a bead of blood immediately welled up.
She hurriedly placed the doll and sewing supplies into the basket, clutched her injured finger tightly, and hurried to the doorway to look out.
The moment she saw Zhou Zhijun, her eyes turned red. Her voice trembled, but her eyes shone brightly.
“Brother Zhijun!”
As soon as Zhou Zhijun saw her, he tossed the bundle from his shoulder beside the threshold and strode forward, pulling her tightly into his arms.
“Tao, I’ve missed you to death. I can finally hold you again!”
“Brother Zhijun, it’s broad daylight. Let go!” Chuntao had already forgotten about her bleeding finger and gently pushed at him.
One of Zhou Zhijun’s large hands held her securely around the waist, while the other caught her wrist. The moment he saw her injury, he grew anxious.
“Tao, why is your hand bleeding?”
Blood was still seeping from the tip of her left index finger, dripping down one drop at a time.
Zhou Zhijun quickly released her and gently pressed his fingertip over the wound.
“It’s nothing. I just accidentally pricked myself with the needle.”
“How can you be so careless? I’ll bandage it for you.” Holding her injured finger, Zhou Zhijun led her to a chair and sat her down.
He reached into the basket, found a small piece of cotton cloth, and carefully wrapped it around her bleeding finger. Then he pulled off a length of cotton thread and gently tied it in place.
“There. Does it hurt?”
“No.”
He crouched in front of her and gently cupped her face in his hands. “Tao, did you miss me?”
Chuntao’s eyes weren’t the only thing that had turned red—her whole face was burning. She lowered her head and answered in a soft, trembling voice.
“I did.”
“Smack!”
Zhou Zhijun planted a hearty kiss on her forehead. “No wonder I’ve been sneezing every day. I knew you were thinking about me!”
“Besides me, there are other people who missed you too.”
“Who?”
“Jianshe and Nuannuan.” Chuntao turned her head and looked toward the floor.
“I think about all three of you every day. But the one I miss most is still you.”
Following Chuntao’s gaze, Zhou Zhijun finally noticed a straw mat spread across the floor farther inside the main room.
Nuannuan sat on the mat, clutching a palm-sized cloth doll and gnawing on it. She hummed indistinctly around it, making soft baby noises.
Jianshe, meanwhile, was crawling toward them with great effort, grunting as he went.
The moment Zhou Zhijun saw the two children, his eyes softened into pools of tenderness.
“Did you miss your daddy?”
He leaned over and picked up Jianshe first.
The little boy stiffened when Zhou Zhijun lifted him, then stared at him with round eyes for two seconds.
Once he recognized his father, both little hands immediately seized Zhou Zhijun’s shirt. He began grunting and whining, as though pouring out all the longing he had kept bottled up for so long.
On the other side, Nuannuan moved the cloth doll away from her mouth and gazed at the man holding her brother. Her dark, watery eyes were wide, and her tiny brows drew together as if she were trying hard to remember him.
Before long, her little mouth puckered and the rims of her eyes reddened. She reached toward Zhou Zhijun with her tiny hands, calling out softly, “Ah, ah,” while twisting her body impatiently. She wanted him to hold her too.
Zhou Zhijun’s heart filled with surprise and warmth. The last time he had come home, the two babies had been only tiny infants. He had been gone for so long, yet they still recognized him as their father.
He gently set Jianshe down and reached out to take Nuannuan into his arms.
Nuannuan was a little shy. She didn’t dare look at him and buried her small face against his chest, her two little hands clutching tightly at the sweat-dampened undershirt on his back.
“Nuannuan.” Zhou Zhijun patted her back gently and called her softly.
Nuannuan slowly lifted her little face. Her large, black eyes blinked again and again, and her long lashes trembled lightly like butterfly wings.
Her tender, rosy cheeks and delicate features were so pretty that she looked a hundred times lovelier than a doll in a painting.
Zhou Zhijun wanted to kiss her, but he was afraid his stubble would scratch her. After hesitating for a moment, he could only brush the back of his finger gently across her smooth, delicate cheek.
The corners of Nuannuan’s mouth lifted slightly. Then she broke into a bright, gurgling laugh.
Jianshe wasn’t happy about being left on the mat. He crawled over, tugged at Zhou Zhijun’s shirt, and cried, “Ah, ah!”
“Put Nuannuan down first. Wash your face and cool off.”
Chuntao had already brought a basin of cool water from the kitchen and set it by the doorway. She couldn’t bring herself to look away from Zhou Zhijun for even a moment.
The heat of midsummer was fierce, and his clothes were soaked through with sweat.
After spending nearly half a year away repairing a reservoir, he had become darker and shinier from the sun, but he still looked as sturdy and strong as ever.
Smelling the sweat on himself, Zhou Zhijun quickly set Nuannuan down and crouched beside the basin to wash his face and wipe away the sweat.
“You’ve traveled such a long way. Are you hungry? I’ll make you something to eat.”
He had only gnawed on a dry steamed bun that morning before setting out, and now it was already well into the afternoon. His stomach was rumbling with hunger.
“Don’t trouble yourself. Just give me a steamed bun.”
Chuntao ignored him. She rolled out some cold noodles and stir-fried pickled cucumber with eggs to use as a topping.
Instead of using a large bowl, she found a medium-sized earthen basin and filled it until the noodles rose in a heaping mound.
“Eat.”
Looking at the enormous basin of cold noodles, Zhou Zhijun’s heart warmed. “My wife really does take good care of me.”
As he spoke, he got up and went into the kitchen, where he fetched a chipped enamel bowl.
Chuntao assumed he meant to use it for himself. Instead, he filled it to the brim and handed it to her.
“You eat too.”
“I’m not hungry. You eat.”
“Even if you’re not hungry, you still have to eat.” There was a firm, unyielding note in Zhou Zhijun’s voice.
Nuannuan had already caught the delicious aroma. She stared unblinkingly at the noodles in the bowl, her little lips pursed ever so slightly, clearly craving them.
Jianshe stretched out his little hands and cried out excitedly.
Looking at the two children, Chuntao smiled. “Mama will feed you both.”
She took the bowl, carried over a small stool, and sat beside the mat, feeding the two babies one bite at a time.
Squatting nearby with a small earthenware basin in his hands, Zhou Zhijun wolfed down the cold noodles, his gaze resting on Chuntao and the two children.
He, Zhou Zhijun, had such a beautiful and virtuous wife, as well as a pair of lovable children. He was content for the rest of his life.
From then on, he had only one thought—to work hard and earn money so that his wife and children could live a good life.
But he never imagined that the river embankment he had been dreaming of had already been leased by Zhou Dana to Qian Wanyin.
