Chapter 20: Distant Time

About twenty minutes later, Zhang Zhiyong found Li Heng. The moment they met, he started complaining, "Damn you! Why did you run away when you saw me? Am I that ugly? I was about to burst, and I wanted you to help me collect the fares..."

Li Heng interrupted him, asking with concern, "Did anyone skip the fare?"

"Heh! How could they? A few old aunties were shameless and ran off, but since we're all neighbors, I didn't want to make a scene, so I just pretended not to see." Zhang Zhiyong bared his teeth, looking genuinely annoyed.

Rural villages have always been places where social norms vary, and such incidents were far from surprising. Li Heng couldn't be bothered to comfort him, so he pulled a wad of bills from his pocket and stuffed them into Zhang Zhiyong's hand. "This is the leftover money from the errands; keep the change."

Zhang Zhiyong didn't even look at the money. He shoved it into his pocket, then pushed Li Heng excitedly toward the left. "Come on, let’s go to Sister Chun’s noodle shop for some rice noodles. Let me tell you, the landlady is so alluring—it’s incredible! She’s like a bird’s-eye chili that perks right up the moment you see her."

Lu An teased him with a laugh, "A bird’s-eye chili? How big have you ever seen one of those to be? But then again, it does suit you."

Zhang Zhiyong wasn't ashamed; he took it as a compliment and said cheekily, "Even if the chili is small, it can still make her burn all day long."

*That woman is your father's mistress, you idiot,* Lu An thought to himself, *talking about her like that, you'd better watch out or your old man will whip you with a belt.* He didn't expose the truth, however.

Sister Chun was a widow whose husband had passed away in his early twenties from pneumonia. In later generations, it wouldn't have been considered a serious illness—a few days in the hospital with some injections would have done the trick. But in the 1970s, many families struggled just to put food on the table; where would they get the money for treatment? Even if they scraped enough together, where would they find the medicine?

Legend had it that two groups had been sent out to seek medicine—one to the provincial capital, Changsha, and the other to neighboring Wuhan. After exhausting every effort and pleading their case, they managed to bring back four vials of penicillin. It kept him alive for three months, but in the end, he died because the medicine ran out.

Although Sister Chun’s noodle shop was newly opened, business was exceptionally good. It was packed with people—children, women, and mostly men. The landlady was just as he remembered; while most women were average, she was blessed with a figure that was explosive, to say the least. No wonder she had the dim-witted Zhang Zhiyong so completely infatuated.

"Landlady, two bowls of noodles, extra spicy," Li Heng called out as soon as they entered, before finding an empty seat.

Zhang Zhiyong added, "And plenty of mountain pepper oil, please! I love it."

As his father's mistress, Sister Chun naturally recognized Zhang Zhiyong. Not only did their noodles arrive quickly without needing to wait in line, but the portions were also noticeably larger than everyone else’s.

When the landlady walked away, Zhang Zhiyong sat there drooling, smiling to himself with extreme narcissism. "Brother, analyze this for me. Why do we get more noodles for the same price? Could it be that the landlady has taken a fancy to me?"

Li Heng had just taken a bite with his chopsticks and nearly spat it out laughing. After a moment, he replied tactfully, "She knows your dad. It’s either out of respect for him, or her hand just slipped. Stop making a fool of yourself. They say there’s always gossip around a widow’s door. Is she really better than that girl next door you were obsessed with?"

At the mention of the neighbor girl—whose underwear he had once stolen—Zhang Zhiyong immediately shifted his focus, looking miserable as he cried out, "After graduating from vocational school, Sister Qiqi was assigned to work in Hengyang. She didn't even come home for the New Year last year. I wonder how she's doing?"

Lu An glanced at him sideways, finished three mouthfuls of noodles, and asked, "She’s several years older than you, and you’re still pining for her?"

"They say if a woman is three years older, she’s like a golden brick. I like them older! Besides, I spent so much effort on her; how could I just forget?" As Zhang Zhiyong spoke, he recalled the sleazy things he had done and lost his confidence.

Li Heng wanted to laugh at the word "effort," but he didn't press it. He urged, "Eat up. Once you're done, we’re heading back. My second sister has to head to school this afternoon."

"Oh! The tone has changed. It's 'Second Sister' today? You're not calling her 'the shrew' anymore?" Zhang Zhiyong’s expression was exaggerated, as if he were seeing a stranger, looking him up and down like a curious child.

It was no wonder the dim-witted fellow felt it was abrupt; Li Heng had never had a good impression of Li Lan. Because Zhang Zhiyong had followed him around since childhood, they were always getting punished together. They suffered terribly—not only were their backsides left bruised, but their arms were often swollen. It was a deep psychological trauma, almost like a curse.

The matter of his rebirth was impossible to explain, and he wouldn't explain it to anyone, so Li Heng answered vaguely, "Regardless of anything else, just the fact that she stood up for me and beat the hell out of Auntie Pang is enough for me to give her a thumbs-up."

"That’s true, a model for us all!" Zhang Zhiyong had witnessed Li Lan chasing Auntie Pang with a sickle, and he admired her deeply.

After finishing the noodles, Zhang Zhiyong didn't dare delay, as he had to earn his living expenses. He took his friend and drove the hand-tractor back to the village.

Halfway there, Li Heng witnessed a hilarious scene: the father and son who had splashed him with yellow mud that morning had slipped into a paddy field. The chubby boy was sitting in the mud wailing, and his bicycle looked severely mangled. Seeing Li Heng, the boy glared at him. Li Heng gave a "polite" smile, grinning so wide it made the boy forget to cry, and he grabbed a handful of mud and threw it at the tractor.

Wild! Absolutely savage!

The mud missed Li Heng but landed in the trailer behind, drawing laughter from the group of aunties and filling the air with joy as they returned to Shangwan Village.

When they entered the house, the second sister had already packed her things and was ready to leave. Seeing her brother, who had changed so much, Li Lan uncharacteristically shed her usual indifference. She said out of the blue, "There’s only half a year left until the college entrance exam. You must pull yourself together and get into a good university. In the future, you must marry a wife better than Chen Zijin, just to show these short-sighted fools in the village what it means to be successful."

Li Heng looked at her and helped her with her luggage. Just as they reached the door, Li Lan turned back suddenly and added cryptically, "It’s best not to mess around with Yang Yingwen."

Li Heng was surprised. "Has Yang Yingwen done something to you?"

Li Lan replied coolly, "She’d better not!" She then added, "Yang Yingwen isn't pretty enough; she can't outshine Chen Zijin."

Li Heng: "..."

*As expected of our second sister,* he thought, *she has an incredibly strong spirit and refuses to suffer even the slightest loss.*

The second sister left without looking back once she stepped over the threshold. The local street-rat Zhang Zhiyong was as obedient as a turtle in front of her; he drove her to town with complete focus, not daring to let out a deep breath the entire time.

After watching Li Lan board the bus, Zhang Zhiyong turned to Li Heng and asked, "When are we going back to school? Tomorrow or the day after?"

Li Heng asked casually, "Has Yang Yingwen asked you?"

Zhang Zhiyong said with dissatisfaction, "How could she? She’s not going with us, so why would she ask?"

Li Heng pondered for a moment and replied, "The day after tomorrow. Tomorrow, I want to help the family gather a few more loads of firewood."

"Forget firewood, let's go cut some timber. I'll come help you tomorrow," Zhang Zhiyong offered generously.

"That works too. Timber burns longer."