Chapter 73

Chapter 73

"Put these on. I'll boil water for you to take a bath. How long has it been since you last ate?" Xu Meng touched Huang Xiaoying's face.

Her face was ice-cold, like a chunk of ice.

Huang Village was a hundred kilometers away, and even with a ride along the way, sitting on a tractor must have been freezing. Last time her uncle and aunt visited, her aunt nearly froze to death on the road.

As the saying goes, "Don’t bathe on an empty stomach or get a haircut after a meal." After telling Huang Xiaoying to change, Xu Meng turned and left the room.

First, she went to the kitchen, took out two steamed buns, and put them in the pot to heat. Then she cranked the coal stove up to max and filled a large pot with water, planning to boil enough for her cousin to soak in a bath.

Even at full blast, it’d take at least ten minutes to boil that much water. There was some hot water in the thermos, but not enough for a bath.

Thinking of this, she thought back to the gas stoves in her past life. She wondered when they’d ever live in a house with natural gas. Even an early adoption of gas would be better. Nowadays, no one in the alley used gas stoves yet—even most eateries still relied on coal stoves. Zhang Mingqing’s shop currently used a large three-burner gas stove.

Once she was done, she returned to find Huang Xiaoying hadn’t moved.

"Yingying, why haven’t you changed?"

Huang Xiaoying hesitated. "I... your clothes are all new. Don’t you have any older ones?"

Xu Meng: "I didn’t bring any of my old clothes when I moved out. Just make do with these for now. I wear my school uniform most days, with a padded jacket underneath. This cotton coat isn’t new—I’ve worn it a few times already."

Huang Xiaoying glanced at the clothes again but remained silent, not changing. She scooted closer to the coal stove and said, "I’ll change after my bath."

Xu Meng didn’t push it.

Earlier, she hadn’t had time to ask how Huang Xiaoying had found her way here. She must’ve had a rough trip. Now that the cup of brown sugar water was finished, Huang Xiaoying looked a little less pale. Xu Meng went back to the kitchen.

The buns were steaming hot now. Xu Meng waited another two minutes before using chopsticks to transfer them to a plate. She then carried the plate and a bowl of hot water back to the room.

Huang Xiaoying sat with her eyes downcast, lost in thought.

Xu Meng handed her the plate. "You must be starving. Honestly, what were you thinking, running off like this? Your mother must be frantic. At the very least, you should’ve gone to Uncle first—he lives closer. Or at least asked him for some money. You’re not a child anymore—use your head! What if something had happened on the road? What if you’d frozen? What if you’d reached the city and couldn’t find us?"

She went on, but Huang Xiaoying didn’t find it annoying.

Back home, her mom’s lectures always grated on her.

But every word Xu Meng said was for her own good. When she’d run away yesterday, she hadn’t thought things through. She had a good memory, though—she’d picked up details from adult conversations about where her second aunt lived and her current situation. Yesterday, when her mother brought up going south again, she’d just snapped and run.

At home, people only ever said her cousin was bold for running away with her aunt.

Now she’d gone and done the same.

But looking back, it was terrifying. Miraculously, she hadn’t gotten lost or ended up somewhere else. At every town, she’d asked locals for directions. Near the capital, she’d even dared to hitch a ride. It was pure luck she hadn’t been kidnapped or ended up lost.

Before she knew it, she’d polished off one bun and picked up another, chewing quietly.

Her head spun with ideas about what to do next. Maybe she could find work in the city—working in a shop, washing dishes, or waiting tables. Anything that’d put food on the table. She’d heard waitresses even got uniforms. If she could score a gig like that, she could return her cousin’s clothes.

Just as she was thinking this, someone lightly kicked her chair.

"Had enough?" Xu Meng asked.

Huang Xiaoying looked at the bun in her hand—gone again. Her stomach kept growling.

She’d done hard labor since childhood, and without much fat in her diet, her appetite was naturally bigger than most.

But she had been used to eating half-portions since childhood. Although there were no dishes, having plain wheat buns was already quite satisfying.

Huang Xiaoying nodded, "Mm."

"Nonsense," Xu Meng teased. "You clearly aren't full. When we ate together as kids, you always ate more than me. I didn’t dare give you too much now since you’ve been starving for two days. Sit for a while—I’ll go get the wash basin. You can soak in it for a bit and eat more at dinner. Tonight, we’re having beef-bone stew with cabbage and turnips—it’s really tasty. I’m sure you’ll like it. Later, I’ll steam some rice!"

She remembered Huang Xiaoying loved rice.

Huang Xiaoying’s nose stung with tears. She stood up to help, but Xu Meng pressed her back down, telling her to stay by the fire and not go out.

She was still cold, but her heart felt warm. Soon, Xu Meng carried in a pristine foot tub, followed by two thermos bottles of hot water. Then she went out once more, her footsteps heavy as she called for the door to be opened. Huang Xiaoying hurried to the entrance and saw Xu Meng carrying a large pot inside. She poured the water into the basin, tested the temperature, and had Huang Xiaoying check it too.

"Just bathe here. The room is warmer, and staying close to the heated wall helps too. If the water isn’t enough, add more yourself. This’ll do for now—later we’ll go to the public baths. And don’t use soap—it’s hard to change the water."

After giving these instructions, Xu Meng left.

Few households had bathrooms at this time—most used foot basins for bathing.

The basin was only about ten centimeters deep, barely enough to soak one’s feet and bottom, which was quite unhygienic. Xu Meng had disliked bathing this way since childhood, so her basin was barely used. In winter, she and Feng Yanwen would go to public bathhouses. The newer ones in the city were slightly more expensive but had showers, which were much more convenient than washing at home. But Huang Xiaoying was chilled to the bone—there was no way she could go outside now.

After finishing these tasks, Xu Meng closed the door. Though puzzled, she didn’t pry if Huang Xiaoying wasn’t willing to talk.

About twenty minutes later, Huang Xiaoying emerged from the room, now wearing clean clothes, her dirty ones still in hand, her cheeks rosy.

Xu Meng reached out. "Give me everything except your underwear and socks."

Huang Xiaoying said, "I’ll wash them myself."

Xu Meng snatched the clothes away. "What are you thinking? I’m not washing them for you. There’s a washing machine outside—I’ll just toss these in. Wash your underwear and socks yourself. Do you want to call home? I’ll give you fifty fen—you can go out and make the call."

Huang Xiaoying pouted. "I don’t want to."

Xu Meng respected her decision. "Fine."

She took the clothes outside, threw them into the washing machine, squeezed in a scoop of laundry powder, turned on the faucet, and closed the lid.

Huang Xiaoying stared in astonishment at the whole process, then looked at Xu Meng, feeling like something about her was different. The last time they’d met, Xu Meng hadn’t had such poise. And compared to before, her appearance had changed noticeably—her face was rosier, she’d filled out, and she’d even grown a little taller. I thought girls stopped growing by this age?

Xu Meng chuckled. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Huang Xiaoying opened her mouth but then closed it again.

Really, why was she even more skittish than before?

Once the water was in, Huang Xiaoying watched the washing machine churn and whirl, unable to tear her eyes away.

It wasn’t surprising she was so amazed. It was 1990—even in Beijing, few households had washing machines unless they were dowry items. Ordinary people wouldn’t buy such things unless they were getting married. At this time, a fridge or color television as a dowry was already impressive. Washing machines wouldn’t become common until after 1995.

Pointing at the machine, Huang Xiaoying asked, "Will it really get them clean like this?"

Xu Meng nodded. "Even cleaner than scrubbing by hand."

Huang Xiaoying swallowed, still skeptical.

But the convenience was undeniable. After the wash cycle, Xu Meng transferred the clothes to the spinner, then back into the machine for rinsing. To Xu Meng, it was a chore—moving things around, fiddling with hoses.

But to Huang Xiaoying, it blew her mind.

At home, she was the one who did all the laundry. In winter’s freezing cold or summer’s heat, washing clothes for eight or nine people was no walk in the park. Often, she’d fill a whole basket and a bucket, leaving her exhausted by the end. And when she returned, Feng Yanzi would nag—sometimes saying she didn’t wash well enough, other times complaining she was too slow.

She'd been doing laundry for the whole family since she was five. At first, there was only one younger sister, then two, and then more and more...

By the time Mom had her little brother, there were already six children in the family.

Her next-oldest sister, three years younger, would also help her. Otherwise, laundry in this weather would've been brutal. If only they’d had a machine like this—just fill it and let it do the work.

Xu Meng had no clue her simple motions had blown Huang Xiaoying’s mind. After setting the water and letting the washing machine do its work, she tugged Huang Xiaoying toward the house.

But Huang Xiaoying stayed put. Instead, she scooped some water outside and washed her underwear and socks.

Washing those few things was second nature to her.

When the timer dinged, Xu Meng had to scoop the clothes out and transfer them. Huang Xiaoying stared, spellbound.

Xu Meng looked at her: "Want to try?"

Huang Xiaoying: "Can I?"

Xu Meng: "..." Was this supposed to be fun?

She nodded.

Huang Xiaoying reached out, imitating Xu Meng, and scooped all the clothes into the spin dryer, then closed the lid.

"Wait." Xu Meng pressed down the inner lid and secured it again.

The spin cycle kicked in, leaving Huang Xiaoying wide-eyed. When she pulled the clothes out, she gasped, "It’s so dry! Drier than whacking them with a washboard!"

Xu Meng nodded and had her put the clothes back into the wash tub to rinse again.

Huang Xiaoying watched the entire process intently; she was so into it she forgot how tired she was.

Seeing her like this, Xu Meng felt a very real sense of having truly returned to the past.

Like she’d come back to life.

Xu Meng wasn’t in a hurry to go back inside anymore. The two sisters stood by the washing machine, watching the drum spin wildly, letting out little gasps now and then. It was all brand-new to them. When the clothes were finally done, Huang Xiaoying picked them up to inspect—they were indeed very clean.

To wash clothes this clean by hand, she’d have to scrub, whack, and pound them forever with a washboard.

"They’re washed so well," Huang Xiaoying said with eyes shining. "Cousin, is this place rented? Is it cool to use the landlord’s washer?"

She thought the washing machine belonged to the landlord.

Xu Meng hung the clothes with her, raising an eyebrow with a hint of pride. "The washing machine is ours. If the landlord wants to use it, they’d need our say-so."

Auntie could swing a washing machine now? Huang Xiaoying’s eyes widened.

Perhaps it had been a long time since they’d chatted like this as sisters of the same age. Neither minded the cold, squatting under the eaves and rambling about anything and everything—from the washing machine to growing vegetables, then to food. Huang Xiaoying followed Xu Meng like a shadow, watching her steam rice.

Xu Meng had only recently figured out that cooking rice didn’t have to be so troublesome—there was no need to drain the rice water to make "strain-steamed rice," which was a pain in the neck.

Steaming rice wasn’t easy, so she made extra for the three kids next door.

Huang Xiaoying, unaware of this, turned red. "I can’t eat that much."

Did her cousin take her for a pig?

Xu Meng pointed to the next room. "That batch is the landlord’s."

The children don't know how to cook rice themselves. If they want to eat rice, they have to go to their father's workplace cafeteria. Now that it's cold, the three kids only go to the canteen on weekends to buy steamed buns to bring home. Now that they're closer, they no longer share with Feng Yanwen. A whole bucket of buns and rolls is left in the kitchen for anyone to grab when hungry. The canteen doesn’t serve rice in the morning, so the three of them probably rarely eat rice now.

Rice is more of a hassle—you have to cook dishes to go with it. Eating flour-based foods is much more convenient. Whether steaming buns or boiling noodles, you only need to cook one dish at most. If you really don’t feel like cooking, a bowl of noodles alone can fill you up. So, unless a family is particular about it, they usually don’t cook rice often.

Huang Xiaoying’s family rarely cooks rice. Huang Village grows wheat, and they hardly ever plant rice at home.

Feng Yanzi herself prefers wheat dishes, especially noodles. Every day, Huang Xiaoying has to make two meals of handmade noodles.

She doesn’t care about her daughter’s craving for rice either. No one in the village grows rice, and only occasionally, when she remembers, does she buy some rice to cook. In Huang Xiaoying’s memory, she rarely ate rice, which is why she later went south and didn’t want to come back—she really loves eating rice.

Seeing Xu Meng just steam the rice without any further steps, Huang Xiaoying was shocked.

“That’s it?” Not even boiling it first to get the rice water?

Her grandmother loved drinking rice water—it couldn’t be too thick or too thin. Xu Meng’s method of just dumping it all in the steamer was something Huang Xiaoying had only seen in school canteens. Kids who wanted rice would soak it in lunchboxes and steam them in the boiler.

This way wasted rice because there was no rice water, but steamed rice tasted better than drained rice.

Xu Meng, clearly cutting corners as usual, asked, “Do you want rice water?”

Huang Xiaoying waved her hands. “No…”

She knew steamed rice tasted better than drained rice.

Xu Meng didn’t mind. “Doesn’t it all end up in your stomach anyway? Nothing’s wasted.”

She slung an arm around Huang Xiaoying’s shoulders and led her inside.

But Huang Xiaoying felt Xu Meng was even more nonchalant than she’d imagined.

When Feng Yanwen walked in, she saw the two cousins chatting excitedly. They had already decided how to sleep that night—who’d sleep on which side, and so on. Ever since they were little and stayed at their grandmother’s house, they had slept together, never caring if they crowded each other. They were even excited about sharing a quilt and chatting at night.

“Yingying, how did you get here?” Feng Yanwen gaped at her niece.

The room went dead silent instantly. Huang Xiaoying looked at her aunt, panicked.

Feng Yanwen didn’t know what to say either. She’d just hung up with her brother and learned that Huang Xiaoying had run away from home. Now, seeing her niece appear in her own house, she was floored. In her memory, the girl had never been to Beijing—how had she found her way here?

Seeing Huang Xiaoying speechless, Xu Meng spoke up. “Mom, Yingying is staying with us.”

Feng Yanwen opened her mouth, then closed it. After thinking for a moment, she said, “You have no idea how worried your parents were when you ran away? They went to your grandmother’s house to look for you yesterday, and today your uncle called to ask me.”

Before she could finish, Huang Xiaoying’s face went pale.

She didn’t go to all this trouble just to run away for fun.

The joy of seeing a new life and the bright hopes for the future vanished the moment she heard those words.

Xu Meng said, “Mom, don’t say things like that.” It was bringing her down too.

Someone like her aunt wouldn’t truly worry about her child. Right now, she was probably just trying to drag a helper back home to do chores.

If Xu Meng stayed out all night, Feng Yanwen would be worried sick. Though unhappy that her daughter was being just as thoughtless, she still spoke gently. “Yingying can stay here, but at least let your aunt know. Running off without a word—do you know how worried she must be?”

Xu Meng retorted, “I don’t think she’s worried at all.”

Her aunt was so biased, always thinking only of her son.

Her daughter? Ha. She was probably just worried there’d be no one to do the chores if Huang Xiaoying didn’t come back.

For the first time, Feng Yanwen spoke sternly. “Xu Meng, don’t talk like that!”

That sarcastic tone—who taught her that?