Day One

Winter of 1973, the cold wind stripped the trees bare. Around five or six in the afternoon, as workplaces emptied out, the streets filled with the clatter of bicycle bells, street vendors’ cries, donkey brays, and the blaring horns of buses.

Everyone was bundled up tightly, only their eyes visible, trembling in the biting wind.

“The market was packed to the brim today. I barely managed to grab two jin of radishes, and when I came out, my shoes were all trampled and dirty!” Aunt Han muttered to her neighbor as she skillfully sliced the radishes.

Just then, she spotted Wen Congyin, daughter of Minister Wen, pushing a cart into the courtyard from outside.

“Aunt Han, you’re back so early?” Wen Congyin called out.

Wen Congyin parked her cart and took off her scarf. Her pretty, lively face was flushed from the cold, and as she spoke, a puff of white breath drifted from her lips. “Aunt, it’s not early anymore—it’s past six. Your radishes look really fresh and crisp, must be sweet.”

Aunt Han’s face lit up with a smile, forgetting to ask about the matchmaking evening that night. “Of course! The seller is my niece’s neighbor; she specially picked these out for me. You should try one.”

Before Aunt Han could hand over a piece, a heavy cough came from inside. Then her daughter-in-law lifted the cotton curtain, holding the little grandson and half emerging into the room. “Mom, hurry up and finish the meal. Your grandson’s been calling for food for ages.”

Wen Congyin smiled at the daughter-in-law. “Sister Zhao is here too. Aunt Han, I won’t keep you; I have other things tonight. You all get busy.”

She tightened the strap on her army green satchel and headed toward the west room.

The Wen family’s home was part of a residential area jointly built by the Ministry of Agricultural Machinery and the Machinery Factory. Although it was an apartment building, the hallways were narrow and the rooms cramped.

Given the circumstances of recent years, Wen’s father had specifically chosen a small 40-square-meter room. For a deputy minister, living here felt quite confined.

Especially after the arrival of his second wife Zhou Yanhong’s daughter, this tiny space was stuffed to the brim. Wen Congyin nearly tripped over a flowerpot right at the entrance.

She glanced at the flowerpot, about to speak, when Zhou Yanhong came out of the kitchen. “Oh dear, Congyin, you didn’t fall, did you? Xiaoli, really, why is your flowerpot placed here? Hurry and tidy it up.”

She called into the room.

Wen Congli arrived late. She had a short bob hairstyle, wore a thin knitted sweater and linen pants—an image of a fresh, pretty young woman. “I’m here, sister. Sorry, I was busy tidying up inside. You didn’t get hurt, right?”

“No,” Wen Congyin replied, her eyes scanning Wen Congli from her pale, tranquil face to her slender neck. The longer she looked, the more irritated she felt.

Wen Congli never saw herself as inferior. She was known as a village beauty in the countryside, but upon entering the city and seeing this cheap older sister, a deep jealousy and sense of injustice welled up inside her.

Thus, she constantly tried to compete with Wen Congyin. To outshine her, she busied herself with chores, gardening, and other tasks at home, earning endless praise from Wen’s father for being capable and hardworking.

Wen Congyin ignored her and quickly changed into gray sweater and black pants. Her silky long hair was tied in a high ponytail, her eyes bright.

After a long look, Wen Congli finally couldn’t resist. “Sister, are you going on a blind date tonight with Director Zhao’s son?”

Wen Congyin wiped on some snow cream, glanced at her in the mirror, and met Wen Congli’s probing gaze. Calmly, she said, “No.”

“No? Don’t lie to me. Dad and Mom told me that Zhao’s son has already set his eyes on you,” Wen Congli said, lying on the bed with eyes fixed on Wen Congyin. “I heard he’s a leader of the Revolutionary Committee. If this marriage works out, Dad will move up a notch.”

Opportunists never disappear in any era.

Even now, with so many leaders toppled, Wen’s father was determined to climb the ladder.

When a man lacks ability, the best way to curry favor with powerful people is to offer a woman.

Such a woman, regardless of status, is a valuable asset—especially if she is one’s own daughter, making it all the more reliable and safe.

For someone ambitious looking for shortcuts, this was a golden opportunity. But for the original Wen Congyin, it was nothing short of a living hell.

She thought of how the original Wen Congyin married Zhao Shiren, grew despondent, and, because the man broke his promise not to bring her niece over, and after discovering his infidelity, fell into deep depression and died.

She couldn’t help but feel sorrow for the original.

“You already know everything, so why do you ask?” Wen Congyin set down her comb and looked at Wen Congli. “Why are you curious at your age?”

Wen Congli snorted, “What about my age? I’m a year younger than you. In the countryside, I’d be married with kids by now.”

“Then why aren’t you married or have children?”

Wen Congyin leaned on the vanity and countered.

Wen Congli instinctively replied, “Of course, it’s because my mother doesn’t approve of…”

“Doesn’t approve of what?” Wen Congyin raised her brow.

Wen Congli’s eyes darted as she sat up. “My mother doesn’t approve of those bad customs. Chairman Mao said women hold up half the sky. She wants me to study well and make a career.”

Wen Congyin shook her head slightly.

That wasn’t the truth. What her mother disdained were not traditions but rural men. Zhou Yanhong, having risen from a village woman to a minister’s wife through marriage, naturally hoped her daughter would achieve even more.

“Well, your mother will probably be disappointed. Nowadays, city youths are sent to the countryside; few have the chance to study anymore.”

She casually packed a few things into her satchel.

Wen Congli didn’t care. She quickly stood up. “Sister, you’re not leaving, right? Take me with you, will you?”

“Take you with me?” Wen Congyin looked at her in surprise.

Wen Congli nodded earnestly. “I’m your sister. Don’t I have to keep an eye on you? Besides, in the countryside, girls always bring a sister along on blind dates.”

Wen Congyin admired Wen Congli’s talent for brazen lies.

If she hadn’t lived through her previous life or come from the countryside herself, she might have fallen for it.

The worst thing about blind dates is falling for the wrong person. Who would bring a sister along and risk trouble?

“I can’t decide that. You should ask your mother,” Wen Congyin shook her head.

“My mother will definitely agree. Don’t worry!” Wen Congli brightened, rummaging for an outfit, braiding her hair, and applying bright red lipstick.

Youth gave her confidence. Though her appearance was overly flashy and her intentions clear, Zhao Shiren couldn’t help but be somewhat impressed upon seeing her.

The matchmaker, Director Zhang, however, was displeased. She glanced at Wen Congli, then at Wen Congyin, and asked, “Xiao Wen, who is this?”

Her eyes accused Wen Congyin of bringing an unrelated person.

Before Wen Congyin could explain, Zhao Shiren hurriedly said, “Aunt Zhang, it’s nothing. This is Xiao Wen’s sister. I’ve met her a few times before at their home.”

“Brother Zhao, you still remember me?” Wen Congli blinked, putting on an innocent, coquettish look.

A chill crept over Wen Congyin. She scanned the surroundings. The gathering was held in the auditorium of No. 23 Middle School. Most attendees were outstanding young men and women from various units, some in military uniforms; everyone was dressed up.

When the phonograph played a melodious tune, some even took to the floor for ballroom dancing.

The vibrant evening atmosphere starkly contrasted with the cold, frenzied scene she had witnessed earlier: five or six men standing on a truck, wearing placards and tall hats, while a crowd of HWB chased after them, throwing things.

As Wen Congyin came back to herself, Zhao Shiren extended his hand, wearing a military green cotton jacket and a Shanghai brand watch on his wrist. “Comrade Wen, may I have this dance?”

“Xiao Wen, don’t be shy. Go on, go on,” Director Zhang encouraged, sounding less like a matchmaker and more like a brothel madam.

To some extent, the two professions shared similarities.

Wen Congyin had no desire to get involved with this scoundrel, so she found an excuse and politely declined with a smile. “I twisted my ankle; I can’t dance.”

“An ankle injury? Then how about this…” Zhao Shiren had long coveted Wen Congyin. Tonight was a rare chance for physical contact, and he was unwilling to let it slip.

Though Wen Congli flattered him and satisfied his male pride, she was too rustic compared to Wen Congyin, who was elegant, a university graduate and nurse—most importantly, truly beautiful, like a narcissus blooming in a porcelain dish.

Before, Zhao Shiren had feelings for Wen Congyin, but back then his father was just a minor cadre in the factory, and he himself had no means.

Now, times had changed. He had overthrown those leaders, his father rose to factory director, and he had become a head himself. Wherever he went, people trembled with fear.

Zhao Shiren wanted to pluck this narcissus he once dared not even dream of, to admire it properly.