TFRLTOP Chapter 35 Part 2

“Thanks, Auntie Juan! You’re the best!” the children chirped sweetly.

Ming Ming: “…”

“Call me big sister.”

“Auntie Juan, I want a toy car, not a tractor.”

“Big sister. That is a toy car. That one’s the tractor.”

“Big Sister Chanjun!” A little girl with pigtails raised a dog she’d woven out of foxtail grass. “This is for you—I made it myself!”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Ming Ming’s heart melted. “Here, have some candy.”

The kids’ tone flipped instantly—every word “Big Sister Chanjun,” sweet as honey.

“Do you like these snacks and toys?” Ming Ming asked, coaxing them.

“Yes!”

“Then if, in the future, someone sells snacks and toys in the village, would you come buy them?”

“Yes!”

“Good kids.” Ming Ming happily handed out the rest, sugar and all.

Of course, the children didn’t really understand. They’d say yes to anything. Ming Ming didn’t realize yet how serious the consequences of this little scheme could be.

Still early in the day, she went home, slung a basket on her back, and headed to the hills to cut pig grass. But she was clumsy and slow, scratching herself on branches, getting snagged on thorns. Sleeves and pant legs were torn, and faint red welts showed on the skin beneath.

Sob sob sob, my life is so miserable.

At least the skin wasn’t broken.

Ming Ming glanced left and right, ready to breathe a sigh of relief—until she noticed several scratches across the backs and palms of her hands, faintly bleeding.

Screw this! I quit!

After working hard all afternoon, she only managed to drag home a basket that wasn’t even half full.

Almost home, she saw the yard unusually lively. Getting closer, she realized it was the parents of the kids from earlier, all bringing gifts of thanks.

“Junsheng, when did Juanzi head into town? She was way too generous, buying the kids candy and toys. Those things aren’t cheap—we feel embarrassed!”

“Exactly. We don’t have anything valuable, so we just brought some food and household goods from home to thank Juanzi for her kindness.”

Yan Junsheng greeted the neighbors in the courtyard, still looking a bit puzzled. It had been Chen Chanjun’s idea, and he didn’t know what her intentions were. He couldn’t exactly accept or refuse the thanks on her behalf.

All he could do was hope Chen Chanjun got back soon.

Someone sighed, “Who would’ve thought Juan would like kids this much?”

That sparked another comment: “You two planning on having a baby, then? May you be blessed with a son soon!”

“Right, right—may you be blessed with a son soon!”

Ming Ming lingered at the doorway, listening. When she realized the conversation was starting to go off track, she finally stepped inside. The moment Junsheng saw her, he looked like he’d just been saved, quickly waving her over. “You’re back? The neighbors are here to thank you.”

He took the basket from her shoulders, then froze when he noticed the scratches on her clothes and the blood on her hands. His gaze darkened.

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” Ming Ming said quickly, greeting the parents. “I just picked up some toys for the kids while I was in town. You’re all too polite!”

As she chatted, her hand was suddenly caught. She turned her head—Junsheng was staring at her wounds, brows knit, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.

She kept talking breezily: “If the kids are happy, then let them play. We’re all neighbors—don’t be so formal. I hardly get to go into town, so I thought I’d bring back a little something for the kids. I don’t have much money anyway—cheap little toys are all I can afford.”

Then she turned her hand and lightly patted his twice—whether to comfort him or brush him off, who knew—but it seemed to calm him a little.

Carefully avoiding her cuts, he held her hand and stood beside her.

“Look at Juanzi,” one of the neighbors said, chuckling. “Marriage really changes a girl—grown up and sensible now.”

They chatted a while longer, their words full of “next time” and “in the future,” thinly veiled hints. In the end, they still left their gifts behind.

Junsheng stood by silently, watching. After sending the last neighbor off, he pulled Ming Ming inside, cleaned her wounds, and began bandaging.

Not a word.

“Ahh—” Ming Ming hissed as the disinfectant stung, teeth clenched. A moment later, Junsheng bent down and gently blew on the wound. “Better?”

“Better.”

“Change out of those clothes. They’re all torn. Did you hurt yourself anywhere else?”

“No, just my hands.”

He nodded. “Check again when you wash up later. The medicine’s here. If you find more cuts, apply it yourself.”

“Mm.”

Junsheng’s eyes lingered on her, but when she glanced at him, he looked away.

Later, after Ming Ming washed up and changed, she came to the table for dinner. Casually, Junsheng asked, “Were you planning to start a little business?”

Well, look who figured it out.

Ming Ming lifted her gaze from the bowl like a proud peacock unfurling its tail, every feather spelling: Since you already know, fine—I won’t pretend anymore.

She cleared her throat, chin tilted up, posture and tone anything but demure. Still, she forced herself to sound reserved: “…Yeah. So what?”

“What kind of business? Getting snacks and toys from town to sell here in the village?”

She wagged her finger. “That’s just step one. My goal is the stars and the sea—cough, I mean—my goal is the first convenience store in Xinli Village!”

Junsheng just stared at her, his expression saying Unbelievable.

“You do realize… we’re under a planned economy right now, don’t you?”

Ming Ming blinked. Something about that sounded off.

“O-of course. Why else would there be ration coupons for grain, cloth, and meat?”

“And do you realize—even small private trade, flipping production materials for profit—can get you labeled a speculator? That’s not just serious, it can ruin you.”

Ming Ming gave a couple of dry laughs. “It… it can’t be that bad… right?”

“When I first came here—what, half a year ago?—Uncle Li up north of the village bought dead cow meat cheap and resold it. Someone got jealous and reported him. He got five years. Did you forget?”

Junsheng shot her a disapproving look, like she was being scolded for not remembering something important.

“And besides, the village already has a supply and marketing cooperative, with cadres assigned to run it. You open a private shop, you’re challenging the state? You’re really not afraid of being reported?”

Ming Ming clutched his arm, looking dazed. “W-wait. You’d better explain this whole… planned economy thing to me in detail.”

Dinner stretched out for nearly an hour as Junsheng gave her a thorough lecture in current affairs and politics. By the end, her blind spots were filled in, and her dreams of stocking up cheap goods and opening a shop in the village were completely shattered.

Finally, Junsheng raised his enamel tea mug, took a sip, and delivered his conclusion: “As young people in the new era, we must pay close attention to the state’s major policies.”

Ming Ming propped her head on both hands, as if deep in thought.

“The late emperor’s work was undone halfway, defeated by the planned economy…”

The blow was devastating. She was ready to explode.

“All my investment! The toys, the candy—completely wasted! Aaaaaahhhh—!”

The system clacked away on its imaginary keyboard inside her head, mercilessly mocking: Shouldn’t this be common knowledge for you people? How did you even pass political history class?

“I’m a college girl from the 21st century! Born under the red flag, raised in the sunshine! How was I supposed to know what the ’70s were really like?”

Funny, last world you erased the entire police system. Now suddenly you’re playing at historical accuracy? Get out of here.

The system added, Don’t flatter the author. This isn’t even real accuracy. If it were, your life would be way harder.

Ming Ming: “…”