Chapter 47: Pay Back the Money Before Talking About Sisterly Affection

Tang Xin’s inner monologue: No way… When it comes to farming knowledge, am I actually worse than an illiterate eight-year-old kid? Outwardly, however, she appeared obedient, nodding her thanks to the younger boy before heading off to pick eggplants, peppers, and tomatoes.

In particular, the tomatoes—called “Western tomatoes” by the locals—were large, juicy, and sweet. Tang Xin gathered a few to take home. After all, she couldn’t bring out fruit for her family every day, but eating plenty of tomatoes would also help supplement their vitamins.

Unexpectedly, Li Hai picked out the biggest, reddest one and handed it to her. “Sister-in-law, this one’s for you.”

Tang Xin felt genuinely happy—not because of the tomato, but because of her little brother-in-law’s thoughtfulness. After all, in this new life of hers, apart from her own mother who still loved her as always, Tang’s father had long since been won over by that old white lotus. As for so-called childhood friends and close sisters, those were all lies. Li Hai’s gesture might have been casual, but it was heartfelt, and Tang Xin couldn’t help but feel pleased.

Meanwhile, Madam Fang was wholly absorbed in her kitchen, pondering what delicious dishes to prepare for lunch. Although her son had to work to provide for the family—a necessity she could do nothing about—she nonetheless felt her daughter-in-law had been wronged by it. The Li family didn’t have much to offer, but her daughter-in-law was someone who loved good food and knew how to appreciate it. Madam Fang was determined to show off her culinary skills.

Eggs were a must; she’d boil one especially for her daughter-in-law. In fact, ever since Tang Xin married into the family, their hens had started laying more diligently—Madam Fang had collected six or seven eggs from the coop for three days running, a feat she credited to her new daughter-in-law. The fish they’d eaten at the wedding feast had been caught by Old Gu and a few of the family’s mischievous boys; there were still two grass carp, each weighing over a pound, swimming in the water tank. She could use one for fish soup. Then there was the cured meat Tang Xin had brought with her—Madam Fang wasn’t one of those miserly old women. Since her daughter-in-law had brought it and liked to eat it, there was no point in saving it for New Year’s; she ought to cut off a bit and fry it up with the vegetables from the garden. With all this fresh produce, there would be plenty for the whole family, even more than they usually had for the holidays.

In contrast to the Li household, where everyone was cheerful and harmonious even though Li Sheng had gone out to work, the atmosphere in the Educated Youth Commune was far less congenial.

Only a few days after Tang Xin’s wedding to Li Sheng, her husband had left for work, leaving her alone to face the elders and children of the Li family. Naturally, Meng Jia had plenty to say about this—though she always spoke in half-finished sentences, leaving others to guess at her meaning. Li Xuewei, who was forthright by nature and had spoken with Tang Xin just a few days before, immediately saw through Meng Jia’s words as complete fabrications. Furious, she strode up to Meng Jia and confronted her directly: “Why can’t you hope for Tang Xin to have a good life? Why do you keep saying things that sound like you’re cursing her marriage?”

Meng Jia hurriedly waved her hands in denial. “No, I didn’t! Tang Xin is my best friend—how could I wish her ill? Don’t say such things and ruin our friendship.”

At that moment, Lu Liqin and some of the other male educated youth approached. He suddenly spoke up, “Yes, we all know Tang Xin and Meng Jia are close. Can’t she worry her friend might have married the wrong man?”

He himself wasn’t sure if he believed Meng Jia’s words, but since the three of them had come from the same place, and he’d promised Meng’s mother to look after her before they left for the countryside, he naturally sided with Meng Jia when she was at odds with others. In his eyes, the three of them were close; people like Li Xuewei were just outsiders. He overlooked the fact that the real subject of contention between Li Xuewei and Meng Jia was Tang Xin herself. In reality, Tang Xin was someone intimately connected to all three of them. By believing Meng Jia, wasn’t he essentially agreeing with Li Xuewei’s accusations? Did that mean he, too, wished for Tang Xin’s marriage to be unhappy?

All at once, the way Li Xuewei looked at Lu Liqin changed. She finally began to believe what Tang Xin had told her. Before Tang Xin’s wedding, Li Xuewei had spoken with her privately. After all, it was common knowledge at the commune that Lu Liqin and Tang Xin were very close; though nothing was explicitly stated, everyone assumed they were courting. Then, out of the blue, Tang Xin had chosen to marry that peasant Li Sheng. As a friend, Li Xuewei worried she was rushing into marriage and would be wronged.

But Tang Xin had told Li Xuewei: men are all pigs—often as stupid as swine and full of themselves. If a man claims he likes you and wants to treat you well, yet always takes another girl’s side, you must never fall for such a man. There are plenty of men in the world: if one doesn’t work out, move on. The most important thing is to cut your losses in time.

Now, seeing Meng Jia with red-rimmed eyes and a bitten lip, looking as if she’d been wronged, and Lu Liqin gazing at her as though he expected an explanation, Li Xuewei gave a cold laugh and spoke up: “Isn’t that the case? When Tang Xin came to ask you for her things, hadn’t you two already severed ties? Still calling yourselves good sisters?”

“I—” Meng Jia started, but Li Xuewei cut her off.

“And another thing,” Li Xuewei continued, “If you really cared so much about Tang Xin, wouldn’t the best thing be to pay back the money you owe her? After all, a girl with a generous dowry and substantial savings is the one who’ll live well in her husband’s home.”

The truth was, Meng Jia had borrowed many things from Tang Xin—supposedly just on loan—but never returned any of them. In the end, she’d even written Tang Xin an IOU for one hundred yuan, a fact that had spread throughout the commune. Only then did the others realize that every time Tang Xin’s family sent her something good from home, Meng Jia got a share. Meng Jia had tricked her with sweet words, promising to repay her, but never did.

Most people of this era were still kind-hearted. Hearing Meng Jia constantly expressing concern for Tang Xin, they’d forgotten the earlier disputes and only remembered their supposed sisterly bond. Now, with Li Xuewei laying it all bare, everyone finally saw the truth.

A hundred yuan! Who cared about sisterly affection when a debt like that hadn’t been repaid? And it wasn’t as if she had no money—just a few days ago, a female educated youth had seen Meng Jia at the commune office collecting a remittance from her city-dwelling mother.

In that instant, everyone’s expression changed—including Lu Liqin’s.

Li Xuewei didn’t want to say any more. Tang Xin had told her she was living well at the Li family and didn’t want to dwell on the past. But Li Xuewei had been too angry to listen to Meng Jia’s endless complaints, so she’d spoken up at last.