60s: I have a store

Chapter 585: Happy News

The autumn sunlight slanted through the wooden lattice windows covered with window paper, casting tiny spots of light on the eight-immortals table.

Zhang Yan sat next to Zhou Yimin, holding the dried sweet potatoes handed to her by her grandmother, and listened to the old man telling the funny story of Zhou Yimin's childhood when he was chasing a rabbit in the wheat field and fell into a mud pit. She laughed so hard that she couldn't straighten her back.

The old yellow dog was dozing off by the doorstep, its tail occasionally sweeping across the ground, stirring up a few wisps of dust that swirled in the beam of light.

In this way, everyone chatted happily.

That's when.

"Yan girl," Zhou Yimin's grandmother suddenly put down the sewing basket in her hand, her reading glasses slid to the tip of her nose, and her cloudy eyes were surprisingly bright: "Yimin, when are you two going to get married?"

These words were like a stone thrown into a calm lake.

The dried sweet potatoes in Zhang Yan's hand fell onto the hem of her blue cloth skirt with a "plop". Her cheeks instantly flushed red, as if they were burned by the fire in the stove.

She opened her mouth, but her throat felt like it was stuck with a ball of cotton. She could only turn her head in panic to look at Zhou Yimin, a smile still lingering on her eyelashes.

Zhou Yimin was drinking water from an enamel jug and almost choked when he heard this.

He hurriedly put down the cup, stretched out his hand and gently patted Zhang Yan on the back, and the tip of his ears also felt hot: "Grandma, don't scare me. We are not old enough, so we can't get a marriage certificate!"

Before he finished speaking, the old man puffed on his pipe, the sparks in the pipe flickering: "Age can be changed!"

For this kind of thing, as long as it is not too excessive, the street office will not hold you back.

Zhou Yimin didn't expect that there was such a trick. In later generations, age cannot be modified.

The air suddenly froze. Zhang Yan stared at her twisted fingers, her nails making crescent marks on her palms.

Zhou Yimin opened his mouth and closed it again, his Adam's apple rolling up and down.

The old yellow dog seemed to sense that the atmosphere was wrong. He raised his head and whimpered twice, and his tail stopped wagging.

"Grandpa and grandma, I forgot to tell you a good news!" Zhou Yimin slapped his thigh suddenly, and his voice was octave higher than usual.

Grandma immediately perked up and grasped his arm with her wrinkled hands: "Yimin, are you ready to get the marriage certificate?"

"No." Zhou Yimin didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He felt that he had fallen into a "vicious circle" of marriage and couldn't get out of it. He could only bite the bullet and continue, "I have officially been promoted to section chief!"

These words were like a firecracker exploding. Grandma cried out "ouch!", covered her mouth with her calloused hands, and tears welled up in her cloudy eyes.

The old man was so excited that he knocked his pipe against the sole of his shoe, not caring about the ash falling on his cloth shoes.

Zhang Yan grabbed his arm fiercely, her fingertips burning: "Brother Yimin, are you telling the truth?"

She didn't expect Zhou Yimin to be so outstanding. At first, she thought she was not bad either, as she was a college student. But as time went by, this sense of superiority was long gone.

The old yellow dog was startled and started barking, flapping the ground wildly with its tail.

The old man also said at this time: "Yimin, you are worthy of being my good grandson. You should tell me about this kind of thing as soon as possible!"

Although I mentioned it last time, things that have not been concluded yet cannot be publicized.

Zhang Yan's fingertips were still tightly grasping Zhou Yimin's sleeves, and the thin sweat from her palms soaked the work clothes fabric.

She looked at Zhou Yimin's eyes lit up with joy, heard the old man slapping his thighs in admiration, and her grandmother muttering about slaughtering a chicken to celebrate, but her ears suddenly seemed to be filled with a sharp buzzing sound.

The joy just now dissipated quickly like bubbles, and was replaced by a sour and uneasy feeling in my heart.

She recalled how she took notes seriously in college classes. She thought that with her excellent grades, she would be able to get a stable job after graduation and would be the best among her peers.

But at this moment, looking at the man in front of me who became a section chief when he was less than 20 years old, I suddenly felt that all my efforts seemed insignificant.

Compared with Zhou Yimin's achievements, those nights spent in the library and the formulas repeatedly verified in the laboratory were as fragile as sand castles built by children.

"What are you doing in a daze, little girl Yan?" Grandma's warm palm covered the back of her cold hand, startling her and making her tremble all over.

Zhang Yan forced a smile, but her nails dug deep into her palms: "It's okay, I'm just too happy"

She didn't dare look at Zhou Yimin, for fear that he would see the panic in her eyes. Her gaze wandered and fell on the hem of her faded blue cloth skirt - that was her most respectable dress, but now it looked so shabby.

Zhou Yimin seemed to notice something strange and quietly held her hand under the table.

Zhang Yan quickly pulled back her hand as if she had been scalded, and hurriedly stood up to help her grandmother clean up the dishes: "Let me clean up the dishes!"

When she turned around, the ends of her hair brushed across Zhou Yimin's cheek, bringing with it a faint scent of jasmine.

In the kitchen, tears blurred her vision.

Faced with Zhou Yimin's dazzling achievements, those so-called confidences were actually vulnerable.

She scrubbed the dishes mechanically, water droplets sliding down her wrists into her cuffs, icy cold, just like the inferiority spreading deep in her heart.

Zhou Yimin looked at Zhang Yan's back as she fled to the kitchen in panic, and his Adam's apple rolled heavily.

The swaying curve of her hair and the fingertips grasping the corner of her clothes were like fine needles, gently piercing his heart.

The laughter of his grandparents was still echoing in the main room, but he could no longer sit still. Under the pretext of helping to wash the dishes, he quickly walked into the steam-filled kitchen.

Zhang Yan was washing dishes with her head down. Water droplets kept dripping down her wrists, leaving dark water marks on the blue brick floor.

Zhou Yimin noticed that the strands of hair on the back of her neck were wet with moisture, sticking to her pale skin, and the knuckles holding the bamboo brush were bluish-white.

His heart suddenly tightened and he reached out to turn off the faucet. The metal switch made a crisp "click" sound.

"Swallow." His voice was soft, but it carried a firmness that left no room for avoidance.

Zhang Yan shuddered all over, her back stiffened and she dared not look back, but her shoulders trembled slightly. Zhou Yimin walked around the wet stove and stood in front of her. He stretched out his hand to touch her shoulder, but was afraid of scaring her, so his hand, which was suspended in the air, finally landed gently on the back of her hand holding the rag.

"Stop brushing." He said softly, pulling her hand out of the cold water.

Zhang Yan's fingers were cold and greasy with detergent, but he held them tightly without caring. The rough palm of his hand felt scorching hot: "Look at me."

Zhang Yan bit her lower lip and her eyelashes trembled for a long time before she slowly raised her head.

Zhou Yimin could see her red eyes and felt a dull pain in his heart. He held her face with both hands and wiped away the tears that were about to fall from her eyes with his thumb: "Yanzi, I like you, not your so-called achievements."

"But you are so outstanding," Zhang Yan interrupted him with sobs, her voice filled with broken grievance, "and I" "In my eyes, you are better than anyone else," Zhou Yimin stroked Zhang Yan's head.

Zhang Yan's tears finally burst out and she threw herself into his arms and burst into tears.

Zhou Yimin hugged her tightly, his chin resting on the top of her head, and heard his heartbeat like a drum in his chest.

The dusk was like thick ink, gradually staining the green tiles and white walls of Zhoujiazhuang.

In the Zhou family's main room, under the glow of the kerosene lamp, everyone finished dinner early.

Grandma stuffed the oil-paper-wrapped shortbread into Zhang Yan's hands, and stuffed two roasted sweet potatoes into Zhou Yimin's canvas bag, muttering, "Eat when you're hungry on the road, drive slower."

The old man squatted in the yard, carefully checking the lights and tires of the motorcycle, and his pipe hit the frame, making a crisp sound.

As the roar of motorcycles broke the tranquility of the village, Zhoujiazhuang gradually disappeared in the rearview mirror.

The late autumn night wind blew in, carrying the scent of earth and dead grass. Zhang Yan hugged Zhou Yimin's waist tightly, with her cheek pressed against his broad back.

The moonlight sprinkled on the country road, coating the asphalt road with a layer of silver frost. The occasional barking of dogs in the distance made the night even quieter.

Zhou Yimin suddenly slowed down the motorcycle and slowly stopped beside a wheat field covered with moonlight.

He took off his helmet and turned to look at Zhang Yan. The girl's hair was a little messy due to the wind, but it couldn't hide the twinkling stars in her eyes: "Yanzi"

He held her cold hand, and gently stroked the fine lines on the back of her hand with his thumb: "When we are old enough, we will get married!"

These words were like a stone thrown into Zhang Yan's heart, causing ripples.

She opened her eyes wide and looked at the man in front of her in disbelief, until she saw the seriousness and determination in his eyes, and tears welled up in her eyes instantly: "Okay!"

She nodded vigorously, her voice trembling slightly, but the corners of her mouth raised in a happy arc.

The motorcycle started again, but was no longer in a hurry to move on.

Zhou Yimin deliberately took a long detour and drove along the winding river bank.

The river water ripples in the moonlight, shining brightly with the stars in the sky.

The two began to imagine their future life. Zhang Yan said that she wanted to plant roses in the yard, and the whole house would be fragrant when the flowers bloomed. Zhou Yimin said that he wanted to build a small study for her and fill it with her favorite books.

"After we have children." Zhang Yan whispered in Zhou Yimin's ear, her warm breath brushing across his neck.

Happy times always pass very quickly.

While the two were still talking about the future, they had unknowingly arrived at Zhang Yan's home.

Under the control of Zhou Yimin, the motorcycle stopped outside Zhang Yan's courtyard, and the beam of the headlights swept across the mottled brick wall.

Zhang Yan took off her helmet, her hair still stained with the scent of the locust flowers of Zhoujiazhuang. She looked at Zhou Yimin's profile outlined by the moonlight, and twisted her scarf unconsciously with her fingers: "Brother Yimin, do you want to go in and have a cup of tea before leaving?"

Zhou Yimin rubbed the top of her head, and the sleeve of his work clothes brushed against the tip of her ear, which was burning. "Yanzi, it's getting late now. I need to go back to take a shower and sleep so that I can have energy to go to work tomorrow."

His voice was hoarse from the late night, but it couldn't hide the tenderness in his eyes.

Zhang Yan's shoulders drooped slightly, and a sense of loss flooded over her heart like a tide, but when she caught a glimpse of the dark circles under his eyes, she swallowed back the pleas that were on the tip of her tongue. She could only say "hmm" softly and turned to walk towards the gate.

The wooden door creaked open, and warm yellow light poured out. Aunt Zhang, wearing an apron, poked her head out of the kitchen and looked behind her daughter: "Didn't Yimin come in to sit?"

Without waiting for Zhang Yan to answer, she had already grabbed her daughter's wrist and walked towards the main hall, lowering her voice and asking, "My daughter, how did you feel about going to Zhoujiazhuang with Yimin?"

Although it was not the first time for Zhang Yan to go to Zhoujiazhuang, it was the first time for her to go there alone.

The lamp on the eight-immortals table emitted a soft glow. Zhang Yan sat down next to her mother, stroking the folds of her skirt with her fingertips.

From the enthusiasm of the children at the village entrance to the concern of the grandparents at the dinner table, once the conversation starts, it can't be stopped.

When she was excited, her eyes lit up surprisingly and she didn't notice the dark shadow swaying behind the door at all - Zhang Jianshe was holding the newspaper but didn't turn a page for a long time, and Zhang Lu's hand holding the water cup stopped in mid-air. The attention of the father and daughter was completely drawn to the conversation in the room.

"Mom, did you know that brother Yimin was promoted to section chief?" At this time, Zhang Yan threw out a shocking news.

Before he finished speaking, there was a "click" sound from outside the door. It was the crisp sound of Zhang Lu's water cup hitting the door frame.

Zhang Jianshe stood up suddenly from the rattan chair, and the newspaper rustled: "Section chief of a factory with 10,000 employees? He's not even 20 years old."

There was an undisguised shock in his voice, and his rough palms pressed deep wrinkles into the newspaper.

Aunt Zhang's eyes instantly moistened. She reached out and held her daughter's cold hand, stroking it gently with her thumb: "Okay, okay."

They knew that Zhou Yimin was excellent, but they didn't expect him to be so outstanding. He has reached the position of section chief at such a young age. The effort he has put in can be imagined. No wonder he has been so busy during this period.

The incandescent lamp in the main room glowed a warm yellow under the lampshade. Zhang Yan twisted her fingers and her nails formed a faint crescent on her palm.

Aunt Zhang stuffed a cup of warm milk into her hand. The temperature of the porcelain cup penetrated through her fingertips, but it couldn't warm the sadness on her brow.

Zhang Jianshe put down the newspaper, and his pipe made a dull sound against the sole of his shoe. Zhang Lu also came over quietly, her eyes full of concern.

"Dad, Mom," Zhang Yan took a sip of milk, but her throat was still tight, "Brother Yimin is so outstanding. He became a section chief before he was 20 years old, and his future is limitless."

She lowered her eyes to stare at the ripples in the cup, her voice gradually trembling, "But what about me? Even if I get a guaranteed job after graduation, it's just a stable job. Compared to him."

Aunt Zhang put her arm around her daughter's shoulders, the warmth of her palm seeping through her thin clothes: "Silly girl, how can love be compared to this?"

But Zhang Yan just shook her head, her eyelashes stained with water: "Didn't you see the way the female workers in the factory looked at him? Such a young and promising section chief, in the future..."

She didn't dare to say anything more, for fear that the worries hidden in her heart would become reality.

Zhang Jianshe knocked his pipe again, sparks flying on the blue brick floor: "I watched Yimin grow up, he is not that kind of person!"

But Zhang Yan still tugged at the corner of her clothes and whispered, "But people will change. When he climbs higher, he will see more of the world."

Zhang Lu also spoke to comfort him at this time: "Sister, don't worry! If Brother Yimin is such a person, even if it doesn't work out, it will definitely be her loss in the end."

"My sister is so outstanding that the people who pursue her line up from Tiananmen Square to here."

After listening to the comfort from her family, Zhang Yan suddenly felt relieved. She thought there was no need to worry about something that hadn't happened yet.

And I have such a strong backend, what else do I need to worry about?
(End of this chapter)