Ren Jianbai tiptoed into the house, and just as he closed the wooden door behind him, his wife’s voice drifted up eerily from behind: “Finally willing to come home?”

He shivered, hastily turning around; his wife stood at the bedroom doorway, a robe draped over her shoulders, arms crossed, eyebrows raised as she looked at this late-night homecomer.

“Honey, why are you up? Going to the bathroom?” Ren Jianbai sidled up with a sheepish grin. “A’ya and I went up to the rooftop to talk about Fang Long’s situation.”

Before her husband could get close, Lin Tian had already caught the smell of alcohol and cigarettes on him, wrinkling her nose and pinching it. “Ugh, you reek! How much did you drink?”

Ren Jianbai breathed out and sniffed himself. “Didn’t drink much, just those homemade fruit wines from Zhou Ya’s place—opened a jar of lychee wine today for Fang Long’s birthday.”

Lin Tian’s eyes lit up. “Ah, I want to drink lychee wine too!”

The moment she finished speaking, she touched her slightly rounded belly and muttered, “But I can’t drink…”

“I know you’re craving it—I already had Zhou Ya set aside a bottle of each flavor for you, in half a year you’ll be able to drink it!” Ren Jianbai bent down, cupping his wife’s lower back, kissing her belly. “Little thing, little thing, your mommy has given up so much for you—can’t eat this, can’t eat that. You’d better behave and not make trouble, don’t wear your mommy out too much.”

Lin Tian, amused, pinched his arm. “The little thing says your mouth stinks—can smell it right through my belly.”

Ren Jianbai straightened up, chest out, stomach in, and gave his wife a proper salute: “Reporting for duty, ma’am! I’ll go shower and brush my teeth right now, guarantee not a trace of secondhand smoke smell by the time I get into bed!”

Lin Tian really had gotten up to use the bathroom.

Past the early stages of pregnancy, her morning sickness had eased up considerably. Lately she’d been quite hungry, and prone to sleepiness—by not even nine at night she wanted to go to bed.

She finished up and went back to her room to lie down; not long after, Ren Jianbai, having finished showering, came in too and lay down beside her.

Knowing his wife’s hands and feet got cold easily, Ren Jianbai found her hand under the covers and held it, coaxing her quietly: “Sleep now.”

Warmth spread through Lin Tian’s chest; she scooted back a little and said, “Tomorrow I’ll go find my cousin to understand the situation. Tell Zhou Ya and Fang Long not to worry too much—there must be some misunderstanding in this, once it’s cleared up it’ll be fine…”

She and Ren Jianbai had been introduced by family—well, a blind date, essentially.

She’d gone to college out of town, majoring in education, and after graduation had stayed in the big city to build a career for the sake of her boyfriend at the time, only to be betrayed by him. Disheartened, she’d come back to her hometown and taken a position at a primary school.

Her family kept introducing her to prospective partners, but she’d never had the heart to invest in a new relationship, year after year passing until, without realizing it, she was twenty-six. Her mother nagged in her ear day after day like a monk chanting scripture, saying “this is the last critical point for marriageable age for a small-town girl,” “one more year and you won’t even qualify for blind dates anymore.”

Worn down by the nagging, Lin Tian randomly picked someone from the matchmaking roster, intending to placate her mother’s marriage pressure for the time being.

And the one she’d randomly pointed to was Ren Jianbai.

The small town had no particularly romantic spots; their first meeting was arranged at a teppanyaki steak restaurant.

This man hadn’t left a great first impression on Lin Tian—he was nearly an hour late, and when he arrived, his clothes were disheveled, with a cut visible at the corner of his mouth.

Grinning with a mouth full of white teeth, he explained that on his way over he’d seen someone robbed in broad daylight on the street, and had chased the thief down for two blocks before catching him.

Lin Tian had thought at the time that he was rather silly—it had clearly been his day off, why go to such lengths?

But later, watching him wince and grimace as the hot steak plate burned him, Lin Tian couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

After she and Ren Jianbai started dating, Lin Tian gradually came to know his other friends, like Zhou Ya; as for the young girl Fang Long, Lin Tian had also heard plenty about her.

The girl was a bit flashy, a bit rebellious, but the more Lin Tian interacted with her, the more she could sense her clear-cut sense of love and hate.

She was like a little hedgehog—facing those who hurt her, she’d fight back with everything she had, all her spikes bared, while facing those who were good to her, she’d simply roll over, showing the softest part of her belly.

As for the claim that Fang Long had deliberately stolen from a coworker, Lin Tian didn’t believe it, so she’d planned to go find her cousin the next day to put in a good word for Fang Long.

As it turned out, the next day, before Lin Tian had even left the house, Fang Long had already come to find her, even bringing a bottle of lychee wine.

Fang Long apologized to her sister-in-law, saying that as for this job at the boutique—maybe it was best to just let it go.

It wasn’t a guilty conscience acting up, nor was she throwing a small tantrum; she’d barely slept a wink the whole night before, and after calming down and thinking it through carefully, this was the decision she ultimately reached.

Regardless of whether the shop owner would eventually get to the bottom of the truth, since Sister Ying and the others already held a fixed prejudice against her, if she kept working at the boutique, incidents like today’s would inevitably happen again in the future.

At the end of the day, this job had been arranged through her sister-in-law’s help; although Fang Long had a clear conscience, she didn’t want her own troubles to create friction between Lin Tian and her cousin.

Nor did she want to damage the relationship between the Zhou and Ren families.

And judging from the shop owner’s attitude in telling her to hold off on coming back to work, Fang Long felt that no matter how hard she tried, she wouldn’t make it through the probation period anyway.

After all, not everyone could be like her aunt and Zhou Ya, unconditionally tolerant and accepting of her, giving her chance after chance to start fresh.

After resigning from the boutique, Fang Long interviewed at two clothing stores and one restaurant, all of which turned her down politely.

She did run into an uncle posting job flyers who asked if she’d be interested in becoming a “KTV hostess,” saying the pay was really good, that she’d get paid just for singing along with people at KTV.

Fang Long, of course, wasn’t interested—she wasn’t some naive young girl fresh into society.

Opportunities within the small town weren’t many, but opportunities outside it were plenty.

Because many workers had quit their jobs before the new year to return to their hometowns, many factories and businesses in the Pearl River Delta area would face labor shortages after the new year, and local QQ groups posted recruitment notices every day.

Closer by were toy factories or underwear factories in neighboring cities; farther out were garment factories in Guangzhou, electronics parts factories in Shenzhen, shoe factories in Dongguan…

Assembly line work, with onboarding training, room and board included, offering a monthly salary three times what Fang Long made as a supermarket cashier.

Luo Xin, having already arranged things through a friend’s connections, had decided to try her luck in the big city, and hearing that Fang Long couldn’t find suitable work in town, asked her again if she wanted to leave the small town together.

Fang Long still declined.

Having lost two jobs in a short period, Fang Long didn’t want to worry her aunt, and hadn’t yet come clean to her. Every day she’d leave home early, pretending to “go to work,” wandering around outside until “quitting time” before heading home.

In mid-January, a cold front moved south, temperatures continuing to drop. One night it was truly freezing; Fang Long rode her motorcycle with the night wind cutting painfully at her face.

She wanted to find somewhere to eat something hot, while also wanting to save some money. Her body moved faster than her mind—twisting the motorcycle’s throttle, she found herself, out of habit, riding straight to Zhou Ya’s food stall.

Nearly ten o’clock, not yet the busiest hour for late-night snacks, the stall only had two or three tables seated. Zhou Ya and a few people from the shop were sitting together drinking gongfu tea and chatting.

Seeing Fang Long arrive, Zhou Ya looked somewhat surprised; before he could say anything, A’Feng had already jumped up: “Whoa! What wind blew our little fairy over here tonight?”

Fang Long grinned. “Just happened to be passing by, came to mooch a meal.”

A’Feng laughed too. “With your appetite, one meal won’t be enough.”

Zhou Ya stood up and walked over to Fang Long, asking, “Didn’t eat dinner tonight?”

Fang Long snuck a couple glances at the dishes on the customers’ tables. “I ate, it’s just the weather’s cold, I get hungry fast, wanted something hot.”

To save on unnecessary expenses, these past few days she’d only bought a loaf of bread from the bakery, half a loaf per meal, washed down with milk or plain water, just enough to fill herself up.

Tonight her stomach wasn’t cooperating—it had digested “dinner” too quickly and was rumbling.

“Then you really came at the right time—it’s cold today, and A’ya-ge made pickled mustard greens pork tripe soup!” A’Feng lowered his voice. “I’m hoping there aren’t too many customers tonight so there’s some tripe soup left over, to make into a rice noodle soup—ah, just thinking about it feels great!”

Zhou Ya raised an elbow and bumped him. “Not many customers, and you’re worried about losses coming out of your wages?”

A’Feng hurriedly said, “Just kidding, just kidding!”

A’Feng described it so vividly that Fang Long naturally found herself recalling the taste of Zhou Ya’s pork tripe soup.

The broth milky and rich, the tripe soft yet with a bit of crunch—though there was plenty of pepper in it, drinking it down didn’t feel spicy, just warmed the body through, and soon you’d start sweating, then another bite of the pickled mustard greens to cut the richness…

Saliva pooled automatically in her mouth; Fang Long, unable to help herself, sniffled and nodded rapidly like pounding garlic: “Good, good, good, one bowl please!”

Zhou Ya raised an eyebrow, teasing: “Even ordering food now, huh.”

Fang Long raised an eyebrow right back at him. “Not allowed?”

“Fine, fine, fine, how would I dare go against your wishes? If I don’t feed you, you’ll throw a tantrum on the floor.” Zhou Ya gave a faint smile, his cigarette-holding fingers pointing toward the fish tank against the wall. “Want shrimp or crab? Today’s shrimp are good and big—”

“No seafood tonight, just the tripe soup.” Fang Long suddenly thought of something else she wanted to eat. “And then, fry me an egg fried rice too.”