Chapter Thirty: Plans for the Future

Chen Xin filled out a form that Zhou Hao had given her, which was all about recording Zhang Zhang’s daily living conditions and difficulties, as well as her own situation as his guardian.

For the section on sources of income, Chen Xin wrote down her part-time position as a columnist, along with occasional freelance translation work; in short, their income should be enough for her and her nephew to live on.

When Zhou Hao took his leave, he left his phone number, saying she could contact him directly if anything came up—even for fixing plumbing or electricity.

Chen Xin resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Did he really think she didn’t see through that ploy? She’d never encountered such an old-fashioned way of flirting.

After seeing Zhou Hao off, Chen Xin wiped Zhang Zhang’s face and washed his hands, changed his smock, and took him to Grandma Liu’s house.

She was planning to write that book, and needed to look up some materials first. The library wasn’t convenient for bringing a child, so she had to ask Grandma Liu for help with babysitting.

Liu Chunyan had returned to her husband’s family and promised to come back on the fifteenth, at which time she’d settle accounts with her brother and sign the cooperation agreement with Chen Xin and Cheng Jie.

Cheng Jie hadn’t met Liu Chunyan, but after hearing Chen Xin’s description, she felt Liu Chunyan was straightforward and not petty, so she agreed to let her join as a partner. Of course, Liu Chunyan wasn’t entitled to a share of the small two-story property, but there would be other asset investments in the future, and those could be divided then.

It happened that Grandpa Liu wasn’t feeling well and didn’t want to go out, so the elderly couple stayed at home, feeling a bit bored. With the little chubby boy making a racket at home, Grandpa Liu’s spirits improved.

Having agreed to pick up Zhang Zhang in the afternoon, Chen Xin took a bottle of water and headed to the provincial library.

Their place was very close to the library, just four stops by bus and then a hundred meters’ walk. During the New Year period, the library wasn’t crowded, and the study rooms were more than half empty. Chen Xin chose the books she needed and sat down to read. Some content required careful selection, so she didn’t need to borrow every book. She planned to get an overview at the library first, then buy a few reference books at the bookstore once she decided which were suitable.

She found a seat by the wall. Not long after, someone sat across from her.

Chen Xin glanced up. The person looked particularly refined, wore glasses, and was reading a book on philosophy.

He seemed to notice Chen Xin observing him, looked up and smiled at her, then lowered his head again to continue copying notes.

Chen Xin didn’t pay much mind to this little episode. She simply wanted to finish her work quickly and pick up the child. When she got absorbed, time went by swiftly. In the end, she selected two books to borrow. When she looked up, the young man opposite her had already left without her noticing.

When she returned to Grandma Liu’s house, the elderly couple was preparing to make dumplings. Grandpa Liu was chopping the filling, Grandma Liu was sorting the vegetables. Seeing Chen Xin come back, Grandma Liu urged her to stay for dumplings, boasting that her husband’s dumplings were especially good—better than any you could buy outside.

Chen Xin couldn’t just sit idly while the old couple did all the work for her benefit; she told Grandpa Liu to put down the knife and said she’d chop the meat. Though petite and delicate-looking, Chen Xin was very efficient at work. Two knives clattered up and down, and before long, the meat was chopped. Grandpa Liu and Grandma Liu had just finished preparing the chives to be mixed in.

Chen Xin took the cleaned chives, drained them, and swiftly chopped them on the cutting board. Grandpa Liu handled the seasoning, while Chen Xin held Zhang Zhang and watched.

“Your Grandpa Liu was a soldier in Northeast China when he was young. Because he was short, the combat troops wouldn’t take him, so he joined the cookhouse and learned to make noodles like a master. Back then, I only agreed to marry him after eating his handmade noodles,” Grandma Liu said, watching her husband kneading dough with vigor. She smiled so tenderly that Chen Xin felt full even before tasting the dumplings.

“Then I must learn well, maybe I can lure a golden husband back with noodles,” Chen Xin joked.

Grandma Liu laughed heartily and patted her back. “You don’t need noodles to find a good man. You’re beautiful and kind. If only I had a suitable young man in my family, I wouldn’t want you to marry anyone else.”

Chen Xin smiled without replying. It was nice to hear, but marriage wasn’t so simple. She had lost both parents and had no family backing her, and was raising a child. Who in an ordinary family would willingly take on someone else’s child?

She had already made up her mind: if she found someone suitable, great, if not, she’d live on her own. Once Zhang Zhang grew up, she could reconsider. Nowadays, as long as you could support yourself, who wanted to serve a whole family? If you married well, it was fine; if not, you’d not only have to serve others but be criticized as well. Was it that she couldn’t support herself, or that she felt uncomfortable not serving others? She was determined never to compromise herself just to get married.

Grandma Liu’s perspective was different. In her generation, marriage and family were everything. Not getting married was seen as a problem; not having children, even more so. It seemed the entire purpose of existence was tied to these two things. And once married, it was expected you’d serve your husband’s whole family as a duty—wife and daughter-in-law alike.

Chen Xin wondered, why? The in-laws neither birthed nor raised her; why should she be expected to toil for them? Supporting elderly parents was a child’s duty, but wasn’t that her husband’s responsibility? She didn’t stop him from caring for his parents, but felt no obligation to do everything for them herself.

But such views were very unconventional in this era, misunderstood by most, so to make life easier, she had no intention of discussing marriage anytime soon.

She deftly shifted the topic to Zhou Hao’s visit earlier that day.

“The military district’s initiative is quite good, at least it ensures many families of fallen soldiers have a better life. But Zhou Hao told me that many children live like orphans even though they have a mother or father—it’s heartbreaking. What are these parents thinking? If they don’t want to raise the child, why not let the other parent do it? Leaving a child alone—if he gets sick, he could die and no one would know.”

“Those parents are utterly heartless!” Grandma Liu was indignant. She’d encountered such a situation herself: when her daughter was born, she took in an abandoned child and cared for him until the child’s great-grandfather, already in his eighties, came to take him home.

“Later, I made inquiries. That child was lucky—after his great-grandfather passed away, his uncle’s son adopted him. The uncle’s family wasn’t wealthy; the son was a civil servant, newly married. The couple decided to bring their distant nephew home and raise him. By the time your Grandpa Liu and I moved to the city, the child was almost school age. He knew he wasn’t their biological child, but was mature and helpful, taking care of younger siblings. His adoptive parents treated him fairly; whatever their own children had, he had too, and they gave him equal education.”

“Yes, that’s good fortune. Others aren’t so lucky—every day they survive is a blessing.”

The topic was heavy, so Chen Xin shook her head to change the subject, asking Grandpa Liu if he knew anything about this foundation.

“I don’t know much, but from what you’ve said, it seems fairly legitimate. Collaborating with the military district means their credentials should be solid. Still, Grandpa Liu supports your decision to refuse the foundation’s aid. You’re capable; Zhang Zhang is lucky to be raised by you. While agreeing to their help would mean a bit more money each month, strictly speaking, you’re not truly in hardship. If someone gets jealous and complains, you’ll have to argue the case—better not invite trouble for a few extra yuan.”