Reborn in 1982, the prodigal son returns

On the second day of the Lunar New Year, it was just getting light.

The kang (heated brick bed) in the east room was warm, not scalding, just enough to make the quilts cozy. The sound of firecrackers in the distance had become sparse, with only one going off every long while.

Lin Nuo woke up first.

He didn't move, turning his head to look at Su Wanqing, who was still sleeping beside him. Her face was half-buried in the pillow, her breathing even.

Lin Nuo watched for a long time.

When Su Wanqing woke up, she found Lin Nuo already dressed in a cotton-padded coat and sitting on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed). He was holding a wooden comb in his hand, the only comb she had brought from the city. It was made of jujube wood, had been used for many years, and although a few teeth were broken, it was worn smooth.

A small flower is engraved on the back of the comb, but the petals are blurred and it's impossible to tell what kind of flower it is.

"woke up?"

He said.

She hummed in agreement and sat up, propping herself up on her arms.

Lin Nuo twirled the wooden comb in his hand. The comb flipped between his fingers like magic:

"Come here, let me comb your hair."

Su Wanqing was stunned for a moment.

"You can do this too?"

Her voice was hoarse from just waking up.

Lin Nuo smiled.

"Your man is good at a lot of things."

Su Wanqing's face flushed red instantly.

Lin Nuo sat down behind her.

My hair is very black and smooth. It slips through my fingers, feels cool, and has a faint scent of soap.

He combed very slowly. He combed strand by strand, from the roots to the ends of his hair, the teeth of the wooden comb gliding across his hair.

Su Wanqing lowered her head, her hands resting on her knees, her fingers slightly curled. She didn't speak, but her shoulders slowly relaxed.

Lin Nuo finished braiding the hair.

"Okay," he said.

Su Wanqing reached out and touched the end of her braid. Her fingers ran up the braid, stopping when she reached the hair tie. Her lips twitched slightly.

"……good."

She said it softly.

Lin Nuo's lips curled up slightly. "Not bad" is actually quite good.

The two came out of the east room, where Zhao Xiuying was already busy in the kitchen. The porridge in the pot was bubbling and steaming, filling the windowpane with steam.

Hearing footsteps, she peeked out and called out, "Come and eat! The porridge is ready!"

Lin Nuo shook her head: "Mom, let's go to town to eat."

Zhao Xiuying's hand paused, the spatula hovering in mid-air. She glanced at Lin Nuo, a smile playing on her lips as she muttered something:

"They've got some money to burn."

It's not a real insult; a real insult wouldn't be accompanied by a smile.

Lin Nuo chuckled, didn't reply, and took Su Wanqing's hand as they left the courtyard.

Outside the courtyard gate, the snow had been cleared into a path that led directly to the village entrance.

Qi Dawu helped sweep the day before. Honest men work quietly, but his handprints can be seen everywhere. There's a small bundle of firewood on the stone stool at the entrance of the courtyard, which he also chopped, stacked neatly and evenly, as if measured with a ruler.

The two walked side by side on the village road. As they walked, it was unclear who reached out first—perhaps Lin Nuo, perhaps she, or perhaps they reached out at the same time—their hands touched between their sleeves and then naturally clasped together.

No one spoke. Su Wanqing's hands were no longer cold.

A donkey cart was parked under the old locust tree at the entrance of the village.

"To town?" he asked, his voice strained and muffled from behind the cigarette.

"Go," Lin Nuo said.

"Two people, two cents."

Lin Nuo took out two cents from his pocket and handed it over. The money was crumpled, with frayed edges. He unfolded it, flattened it, and handed it to the old man. The old man took it, stuffed it into the inner pocket of his cotton-padded coat, and patted it down.

The two arrived in town.

The steamed bun shop next to the supply and marketing cooperative was small, just one storefront with blue bricks and gray tiles. The sign above the storefront was painted red and read "Zhang's Steamed Buns". The paint had almost completely peeled off, leaving only half of the character "Zhang" and the last stroke of the character "Bao" being very long and crooked.

Two large steamers stood by the entrance, billowing white steam that carried the aroma of pork, scallions, and fermented dough. The steam condensed into a cloud of white mist in the cold air, the scent carrying across half the street. The steamers were made of woven bamboo, and had been used for many years; the bamboo strips had turned black.

A few people were sitting in the shop, all just browsing. An old man was sitting near the door, with a plate of pickled vegetables, a bowl of porridge, and two steamed buns in front of him. He was breaking the buns apart and soaking them in the porridge.

Lin Nuo found a spot by the window and wiped the bench with his sleeve. The bench was made of willow wood, with four legs, one of which was shorter than the other. It was supported by a tile, and it wobbled a bit when he sat on it.

He sat down first, testing the stability, and then let Su Wanqing sit down. Su Wanqing sat next to him, pulling her scarf down to reveal her chin.

"Boss, four steamed buns and two bowls of porridge, please."

The shopkeeper responded with a muffled sound coming from behind the steamer. He lifted the lid, and a burst of white steam rushed up, blurring his face and making him look like he was standing in the clouds. He picked up four plump, white buns with his chopsticks, stacked them on a plate, and then ladled out two bowls of porridge.

The porridge was made from rice, cooked until thick, with the rice grains bursting open. A thin layer of rice oil formed on the surface, glistening like a small mirror.

The owner came over with a plate and placed the steamed buns and porridge on the table. The plate hit the table with a dull thud, and the porridge in the bowl sloshed, almost spilling out.

Lin Nuo pushed the plate in front of Su Wanqing and handed her the chopsticks. The chopsticks were made of bamboo and had been used for many years; the tips were worn white. He ran his fingers along them to make sure there were no splinters before handing them over.

"eat."

Su Wanqing picked up her chopsticks and took out a steamed bun. The bun had a thin skin, and you could vaguely see the filling inside. The meat filling was dark red, and the scallions were light green. The soup had soaked into the dough, and it glistened under the light, like a piece of translucent jade.

She ate in small bites, chewing very carefully. The minced meat was finely chopped, with a good balance of lean and fat, and mixed with the aroma of scallions and ginger, melting on her tongue with just the right amount of saltiness.

Lin Nuo didn't rush to eat. He sat opposite her, his elbows propped on the table, his chin resting on his hand. Sunlight streamed through the paper window, illuminating her face and making it glow.

He remembered his past life, when the two of them had just arrived in the South. Back then, they were poor and rented a room in a tenement building in an urban village. The walls were peeling, the floorboards were warped, and the couple next door argued every day.

He took her to a roadside stall for a bowl of wonton noodles, which cost 1.5 yuan. The soup was seasoned with soy sauce and topped with a few scallions. She ate it the same way, taking small sips, as if savoring something precious.

At that time, he thought that when he had money in the future, he would definitely take her out for a nice meal.

He forgot about it later.

He couldn't remember how many "dollars and fifty cents" he lost at the card table over the years. Hundreds? The money he threw out in each hand was enough for her to eat several bowls of plain noodles. He threw that money on the card table without even blinking, never thinking of her.

"Is it good?" he asked.

"Um."

Su Wanqing looked up at him.

Lin Nuo also picked up a steamed bun and took a big bite. The aroma of pork and scallions exploded in his mouth, and the soup dripped down his chin. He wiped it with the back of his hand and finished the bun in a few bites.

I didn't want to eat anymore after I finished eating.

Su Wanqing finished the porridge in her bowl.

Lin Nuo pushed her bowl of porridge towards him: "Have some more."

She shook her head, pushed the bowl back, and said, "I'm full."

But she hesitated, looking at the last steamed bun on the plate. Her gaze lingered on the bun for a second, her Adam's apple bobbing. Lin Nuo quickly picked it up and put it in her bowl.

"I've already eaten, you eat."

Su Wanqing didn't refuse again. She picked up the bun and ate it in small bites. This time she ate it more slowly than the previous two, as if she were savoring it, chewing each bite for a long time before swallowing.

The two of them came out of the steamed bun shop and took a walk around the town.

The supply and marketing cooperative opened its doors, the door panels removed and leaning against the wall. Inside, the lights were on, a warm yellow glow. Shelves were stocked with everyday items: thermos flasks, enamel basins, towels, soap, matches, and kerosene lamps. Behind the counter stood a man, head down, calculating on an abacus, the sound clattering away.

There were several people buying New Year's goods at the entrance, carrying baskets filled with red paper, firecrackers, and candy.

Lin Nuo asked Su Wanqing if she wanted to go in and take a look, but she shook her head. She didn't like crowded places. Crowded places were noisy, the air was bad, and you had to squeeze with other people. She stood at the door, glanced inside, and then looked away.

A gust of wind blew, lifting the ends of Su Wanqing's braid. She reached out and gathered them up. The red hair tie fluttered in the wind for a moment before settling back down.

Lin Nuo glanced at her and suddenly spoke, "Wan Qing."

"Um?"

"Later, when we have money, we'll go find your remaining relatives, how about that?"

Su Wanqing paused for a moment.

She turned to look at Lin Nuo, her eyes filled with surprise, confusion, and something more complex, as if a long-untouched scar had been touched—it no longer hurt, but she could still feel it. That scar had been hidden in her heart for many years; she thought no one knew.

"Why are you suddenly bringing this up?" Her voice was very soft, as if she was afraid of disturbing something.

"It wasn't sudden," Lin Nuo said. "I've been thinking about it."

He didn't mention his past life. But he had truly thought about it. Su Wanqing's father was gone, her stepmother had remarried, did she have any other relatives left in this world?

Uncle? Aunt? Cousin? She never mentioned them, and he never asked. In those years, he was busy playing cards and drinking, and didn't even care what she ate every day, let alone ask these questions.

But he knew that when she was alone late at night flipping through that calligraphy book, she had thought about it. But bringing it up was pointless.

Su Wanqing didn't speak. She lowered her head, perhaps unsure of what to say.

"Okay," she said.

Lin Nuo tightened his grip on her hand. His fingers tightened, and hers tightened as well. Their hands were clasped together in their pockets, palm to palm, their warmth mingling.

"Late Qing".

"Um."

"I was wrong before."

他 说:

"I'll work hard to earn money from now on, and we'll live a good life together, okay?"

Su Wanqing looked at him. Sunlight shone from behind her, as if gilding her with gold, and her eyes shone.

She didn't say anything.

He simply nodded slightly.

A gust of wind blew in from the street corner, whipping up snowflakes that felt cool on his face. But Lin Nuo didn't feel cold. He was still holding Su Wanqing's hand.

A burst of firecrackers came from afar, crackling and popping; someone was setting off fireworks.

The second day of the Lunar New Year is an auspicious day.

In the afternoon, the two of them took a donkey cart back to the village.

Su Wanqing leaned on Lin Nuo's shoulder, her eyes closed, her eyelashes trembling slightly, it was hard to tell if she was asleep or lost in thought. Her breathing was even, each breath brushing against his cotton-padded jacket, leaving a small patch of warmth on his shoulder. Her hand was still clasped in his, her fingers loosely resting in his palm, like a sleeping cat.

Lin Nuo glanced down at her. He twitched his fingers, tucking his scarf in to keep it from blowing in the wind. He moved very gently, afraid of waking her.

The donkey cart swayed and wobbled forward.

He thought to himself: I must make sure she gets to eat meat. She's so thin, her wrists are so slender he can hold them in his hand. I need to make sure she eats more and gets her health back.

We need to buy her a new pair of cotton shoes. The soles of her old shoes are almost worn through, the uppers are worn white, and the toes are torn, exposing the black, muddy cotton inside. Her feet wobble when she walks because the shoes are deformed and uncomfortable.

We also need to tidy up the west room and turn it into a study. The windows in the west room face south, so it gets plenty of sunlight and is bright during the day. We can put the calligraphy practice books on the table so she has a place to teach Anzi to read. We can also make her a bookshelf, not too big, just enough to hold her few books.

When the donkey cart stopped at the village entrance, the sun was already high in the sky.

Lin Nuo jumped out of the car first, turned around and reached out his hand. Su Wanqing handed him her hand, which landed steadily on the ground. Her hand was much warmer than in the morning. After walking around town all morning and having hot porridge at the steamed bun shop, her fingertips were no longer icy.

The two walked home along the village road.

Upon entering the courtyard, Zhao Xiuying was squatting by the kitchen door picking chives. Hearing footsteps, she looked up and glanced at the two people. Lin Nuo still had a smile on his lips, while Su Wanqing's ears were a little red.

"Have you eaten?" Zhao Xiuying asked.

"I've already eaten," Lin Nuo said.

Zhao Xiuying hummed in agreement, without asking what they ate or how much it cost, and lowered her head to continue picking chives. She pinched off the dry mud from the chive roots with her fingers, picked out the yellow leaves and threw them into the winnowing basket at her feet, her movements quick and precise.

Su Wanqing walked to the kitchen door and bent down: "Mother, let me help you."

"No, no need."

Zhao Xiuying waved her hand, her hands still covered in mud:

"Go back to your room and rest. You've been walking all morning."

Su Wanqing hesitated for a moment and glanced at Lin Nuo. Lin Nuo nodded at her with a smile. She didn't say anything more, turned and walked towards the west room, took two steps, paused, and then turned back towards the east room.

Zhao Xiuying saw it, but didn't say anything, and lowered her head to continue picking chives. But that smile on her lips reappeared, and she couldn't suppress it no matter what she did.

Lin Nuo didn't rush into the east room. Instead, he went to the storage room behind the kitchen, pushed open the wooden door, and found it filled with the sets he had made the day before.

He squatted down and checked the condom again.

Halfway through the inspection, the gate to the courtyard was pushed open.

Qi Dawu stood at the door, wearing the same faded old cotton-padded coat, collar turned up, his nose red from the cold. He carried a bulging burlap sack in his hand.

"Brother Nuozi,"

His voice was still not loud, but it was a bit brighter than before:

"I am coming."

Lin Nuo waved to him:

"Come in, I was just about to look for you."

Qi Dawu walked in, put the sack against the wall, and squatted down to look at the loops on the ground. He picked one up, pried open the loop with his fingers to test the snap, then put it down, picked up another one, and tried it the same way.

"They all work quite well," he said.

"Have you inquired over there?" Lin Nuo asked.

Qi Dawu paused for a moment, then looked up:

"Sun Desheng? I've inquired about him. There is indeed such a person in Sunjiagou. He's in his early thirties, and his parents have both passed away, leaving him all alone. He's honest and hardworking, but he's poor and can't find a wife."

Lin Nuo nodded, understanding the situation.

"Okay, let's talk about this after the fifth day of the lunar new year."

Lin Nuo gathered up the sheath and put it into the sack that Qi Dawu had brought:

"Let's do something else for now. Let's go into the mountains."

Qi Dawu was stunned for a moment:

"Today? The second day of the Lunar New Year."

"What's wrong with the second day of the Lunar New Year? Wild pheasants don't celebrate the New Year."

Lin Nuo tied the sack tightly and hoisted it onto his shoulder:

"They'll still come out to forage as usual, and their footprints will remain. The sooner we set the traps, the sooner we'll have a harvest."

Qi Dawu thought it made sense, so he didn't say anything more and followed Lin Nuo out of the courtyard.