The 1970s: Military Family Beauty

When Jiang Furong thought of the phrase "every wrong has its perpetrator, every debt has its creditor", a picture emerged in her mind. It was the day when she was frightened and had a fever, which happened three days ago.

She found herself standing in the icy canal. After desperately pushing the little boy up, she clung to the canal wall where there was no support. Suddenly, she lost her strength and could not shout for help. She could only cry in despair. A soldier passed by on a bicycle, heard her crying, jumped into the canal and pushed her ashore. Later, he helped her onto the back seat of his bicycle and sent her back to the compound.

She was scared to death. Saving people was a good thing, but she was wearing a new cotton-padded jacket, which got wet after just two days of wearing it. Hu Xiuqing would definitely scold her every time she saw it. The most important thing was that the soldier was a man, and she was actually grabbed and pushed by a man. If he sent her home in front of so many neighbors, she would not be able to face people in the future.

With several reasons for being scolded piled up together, and the fear of being found out, Jiang Furong jumped out of the car on her own some distance from the gate of the compound. After running into the compound, she didn't dare to go home directly. She first found a secluded place to rub off the stains on her dirty overalls, wrung out the wet cotton coat and woolen trousers, put them on until the overalls and trousers were almost dry before going home. She started to have a high fever in the evening, and it was not until the next night when Jiang Dapeng returned home and found something was wrong that he asked a nurse to give her a fever-reducing injection.

It’s a pity that the picture was too blurry. All I could hear was the girl’s suppressed sobbing of shame, crying and crying, and all I could see was the bumpy country road receding rapidly.

...I can’t remember anything after that.

Jiang Furong shook her head. Her fever had just subsided, but now she felt a headache whenever she thought about something. She washed a few dishes and mopped the floor, and she actually broke out in a sweat.

Fortunately, the house is simple, with no large pieces of furniture or miscellaneous items, so cleaning is easier than I imagined.

This house was really bare: the floor was cement, the walls were whitewashed, and there was only a wardrobe, a bookcase, and a cupboard in the house. The old desk in the middle of the living room and dining room was dual-purpose: it was the dining table at mealtime, and the rest of the time it was the desk for the two sisters. Every room had windows, but only the windows of the master bedroom had curtains. The windows of her and her sister's bedrooms were covered with old New Year pictures pasted with glue. The windows of the utility room where she slept for the two days she was sick were even simpler and cruder, with a layer of black and gray paint applied, so that no light could get in. The whole room was a dark place.

Although she was a little tired, Jiang Furong didn't plan to sit idle. She went to the bookcase in the master bedroom to find a book to read.

There are not many books in the bookcase, most of which are Jiang Dapeng's work books and notes, and a small part are professional magazines and outdated newspapers.

Jiang Furong flipped through it casually, but had no interest at all. The wording and sentences in it were dry and powerful, and too professional.

She continued to look for it without giving up, and finally found a book wrapped in brown paper in the pile of old newspapers at the bottom. There was no name written on the spine. She pulled it out and saw that it was "Dream of Red Mansions", the third volume in a set of four. The pages were flat, crisp and new, and still exuded the scent of ink.

She searched the entire bookcase and found only this one novel, and the font used was not the familiar Song font, which made her feel quite uncomfortable.

Since there is no other choice, just make do with it. It's better than nothing.

The moment she walked out of the master bedroom door, Jiang Furong stopped. A novel wrapped in a book cover was still hidden in the pile of newspapers. It was obvious that she didn't want anyone to know.

Who did she not want to know? Was it Hu Xiuqing who didn't want Jiang Dapeng to know? Or was it Jiang Dapeng who didn't want his family to know?

It's just a novel, why make it so mysterious?

Jiang Furong thought about it and put the book back as it was.

No matter who hid the book or for what reason, it is a secret and she should not take the initiative to destroy it.

With nothing to do at home, Jiang Furong decided to go out for a walk to familiarize herself with the surrounding environment and also with her body's reaction to the environment.

Jiang Furong looked at the bright sunlight outside, changed into a pair of light square-toed cloth shoes, picked up the padlock on the windowsill, and just opened the door when someone at the door raised his hand to knock.

As soon as the door opened, both people inside and outside were startled at the same time.

"Who are you?" Jiang Furong immediately calmed down and looked at the middle-aged woman at the door: "Excuse me, what can I do for you?"

This is a family compound, and the people living here are not outsiders. However, at this time, those who should go to work go to work, and those who should go to school go to school. Those who stay at home are basically relatives of officers who come to visit the army.

The visitor was obviously not used to such polite questions and explained stiffly, "Ah? I'm a good person. Uh, it's like this. I live in the bungalow behind yours. My wife's surname is Liu, and mine is Luo. That, um, that... Oh, right, my name is Luo Danfeng, heh, that, that's it..."

He talked for a long time but didn't say anything further.

Jiang Furong understood. This neighbor probably saw that someone was at her house and wanted to chat. But as a girl, she had no reason to talk to an older woman. "Aunt Luo, my parents are at work and won't be back at noon. Why don't you come visit them in the evening?"

He politely let the person outside the door.

"No, no, I'm not looking for your parents. I'm looking for you." Luo Danfeng was anxious and blurted out: "I heard that you are a high school student and graduated, so I wanted to find you to help me with my academic studies."

"No, I can't, cough cough," the original owner's first reaction was to belittle herself. Jiang Furong tried to correct herself, almost choking herself. She remembered a notebook she had just seen in the bookcase, with the words "Hu Xiuqing, Family Literacy Class" written on it, and asked, "Uh, so, why do you want to learn from me? Aren't there special teachers who teach cultural subjects?"

After Luo Danfeng explained the reason for her visit, she felt relieved when she saw Jiang Furong's good attitude. She forced a smile and said, "I still have to take care of my baby. My baby is only a little over a year old, and the nursery won't accept him, so I can't go to the cultural classes."

Huh? A one-year-old baby?

Jiang Furong felt the resistance welling up in her heart. She hated children under three years old and would feel inexplicably irritated when she saw them. This time she sincerely refused: "I can't teach you, go find someone else."

Luo Danfeng's smile froze on her face. "Find someone else? Where can I find someone else? They say you have a good temper and agree to something as soon as you ask. Why haven't you agreed yet?"

Jiang Furong pursed her lips, tucked the stray hair that had fallen on her forehead behind her ears, and once again clearly refused: "Well, you should find someone else to teach you. I really can't teach you."

Not doing things that are not in your favor is the first step to change.