Chapter 9: The Little Companions

Drawing on the original owner’s memories, Su Qiao recalled that when Fang Xiaoying had left for the countryside last year, she had been a fair-skinned, pretty young girl.

How much time had passed since then? Fang Xiaoying was now so thin she looked skeletal, her frame so delicate that a gust of wind seemed enough to blow her away. And her complexion—a pale, sickly shade that signaled severe malnutrition. She was the daughter of a chef; how could she be malnourished? She must have suffered unspeakable mistreatment to end up like this.

Su Qiao instinctively slipped into the role of a mother, her heart aching for the girl before her. Seeing that Xiaoying’s lips were parched, she asked the nurse for some cotton swabs, dipped them in boiled water, and gently dabbed them onto the girl’s lips. As the moist swab touched Xiaoying’s lips, Su Qiao saw them twitch unconsciously.

Guessing that Xiaoying was thirsty, Su Qiao smuggled a straw out of her supermarket inventory. When she placed it between the girl’s lips, Xiaoying seemed to regain a sliver of consciousness, sucking on it instinctively until she had drunk her fill and finally stopped.

Su Qiao put away the straw and the water bottle, then took out a small towel, dampened it, and wiped Xiaoying’s face and hands.

Li Ling returned just as she finished, carrying two bowls of plain noodle soup. She set them on the bedside table and called out to Su Qiao, "Auntie Su, come have some noodles!"

"Right." Su Qiao looked at the large, coarse ceramic bowls and thought to herself, *An honest merchant.*

Seeing that Su Qiao hadn't picked up her bowl yet, Li Ling asked curiously, "Auntie Su, why aren't you eating? Did I buy the wrong thing?"

"No, it's just that this is quite a large portion; I can't finish it all."

Li Ling’s eyes lit up. "Auntie Su, if you can't eat it, give it to me!" Not fearing Su Qiao’s amusement, she added sheepishly, "I have a bigger appetite than Fang Xiaoying."

"All right." Su Qiao transferred half the noodles from her bowl into Li Ling’s.

"Auntie Su, that’s too much. You only have half left—will you have enough?"

"I'll be fine." Su Qiao didn't have a large appetite to begin with, and after the stress of the last two days, she could barely eat anything at all.

Li Ling was truly famished. Her family wasn't wealthy, and she had only been given twenty yuan for her time in the countryside. That morning, she had only been able to afford a single bowl of millet porridge. She had fed half to Fang Xiaoying, intending to eat the rest herself, but just as she picked up the bowl, Old Woman Chen and her two daughters-in-law had stormed in. Her half-bowl of porridge had inevitably ended up on the floor.

Thinking of that incident still made her blood boil; she gnashed her teeth as she ate the noodles, as if the food were the hateful Chen family themselves, and she was determined to devour them bite by bite.

Su Qiao, not yet realizing Li Ling was venting her frustrations on her noodles, took one bite and found the flavor a bit bland. She reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out a container of pickled vegetables.

"Xiao Li, would you like to try some of my homemade pickles?"

"Yes!" Li Ling’s eyes fixed on the glistening, oily pickles in the container. Her stomach, long deprived of rich food, immediately growled with desire.

Su Qiao placed the container on the bedside table, sliding it helpfully toward Li Ling.

Li Ling picked up a piece of pickled long bean, took a small bite, and let out a satisfied, "Mmm! This is delicious. It’s the first time I’ve ever tasted pickles like this."

"What were the pickles you had before like?"

"The ones I used to eat were just made by my grandmother and mother using plain soybean paste. They were so salty—they were just meant to help you choke down rice; you couldn't really call them 'delicious'."

"Mine are made with soybean paste too, but I sauté the paste first to bring out the flavor. If circumstances allow, adding a few slices of pork belly makes them even better."

"What? Pork belly in pickles? Auntie Su, you really know how to eat."

"You're right about that. I’m a chef, so when I have any free time, I spend it studying food."

In Li Ling’s experience, chefs were usually burly, stout people. This was the first time she had seen a chef as slim as Auntie Su, and she couldn't help but look her over. "Auntie Su, I really couldn't tell you were a chef."

"Most people don't believe it either."

As the two were chatting, they heard heavy footsteps outside. A man’s voice, breathless and panting, called out, "Is Fang Xiaoying still at the health clinic?"

Hearing the familiar voice, Li Ling stood up quickly. "Wang Jianguo, Qiu Dazhu, we’re in here!"

The door swung open, and two young men burst in, drenched in sweat. The one in the lead looked at Fang Xiaoying on the bed and said, "We heard the Chen family came again, and we were afraid you two would suffer, so we rushed over to check."

"Yeah, you guys didn't take any losses, did you?"

"We’re fine. Auntie Su arrived just in time and beat those three shameless hags from the Chen family until they were howling."

Li Ling then remembered to introduce them. "Auntie Su, this is Wang Jianguo, and that one behind him is Qiu Dazhu. Wang Jianguo, Qiu Dazhu, this is Auntie Su, Fang Xiaoying’s mother."

The two young men hadn't expected the beautiful woman before them to be Xiaoying’s mother. They looked a bit flustered as they greeted her.

"Auntie Su."

"Auntie Su."

"Hello, hello. You two haven't had lunch yet, have you?"

"We..."

The two had gone to borrow a cart from the brigade leader the moment they heard the news, but he wouldn't lend it to them, so they had run all the way to the commune health clinic.

"Xiao Li, would you mind going to buy two more bowls of noodles and... forty steamed buns for Xiao Wang and Xiao Qiu?"

"Sure!" Li Ling took the money and ration coupons Su Qiao handed her and hurried toward the state-run restaurant.

"Auntie Su, we can't eat that much."

Qiu Dazhu couldn't believe Wang Jianguo was still trying to act modest. If Auntie Su weren't there, he would have kicked him. They had grown up in the same alleyway; they knew everything about each other. He knew exactly where the red mole on Wang's backside was, even through his trousers.

Su Qiao looked at the two young men. Their clothes were patched and covered in dust—they had clearly come straight from farm work. They weren't much older than twenty. They were tall, nearly 1.8 meters. The one in front had single eyelids and a lean, tall build, carrying an air of cynicism; the one behind had thick eyebrows and large eyes, fitting the aesthetic of the era perfectly.

Yet, in front of her, both boys seemed not to know where to put their hands and feet. Su Qiao invited them to sit, and they sat down on the bed nearest to the door, their faces slightly flushed.

Fortunately, Li Ling returned quickly, with Fang Xiaofeng helping her carry the buns. Wang Jianguo and Qiu Dazhu hurried over to help them.

"Eat up. You must be starving after running all the way here," Su Qiao said, handing them a glass jar filled with water.