Chapter 16: To Deal with Villains, One Must Use Ruthless Means

Liu Xiuying, accustomed to taking small advantages, had no intention of compromising so easily. With an ambiguous expression tinged with disdain and reproach, she said, “Xiao An, my house is behind yours, you know the military truck leaves on time. Why can’t you just cover me for now?”

“How bold Captain Lin was when he bought things the other day, but his wife’s so stingy.”

Hearing her shameless words, An Yan couldn’t help but laugh in exasperation. Lin You’s generosity was for his own family—what did that have to do with Liu Xiuying? It was Liu Xiuying who’d asked her to bring things back, yet now An Yan was the one being accused of unreasonable behavior.

An Yan didn’t lose her temper. Instead, she replied coolly, “Sister-in-law, it’s not that I don’t want to help. You have three children, so do I. I only have two ration tickets for buying sweets, and not much money on me. If I help you, what about what I need to buy?”

“You might not have tickets, but surely you have money with you? Why not lend me a little? I’ll skip buying sweets today and just get something else for the kids.”

Liu Xiuying instinctively covered the pocket of her cotton jacket. “What? You want to borrow money? I don’t have any! Forget it, just my bad luck, don’t bother bringing anything for me.”

With that, she turned and left, clutching her child.

An Yan rolled her eyes. How could Liu Xiuying call herself unlucky—An Yan hadn’t said a word yet.

“Xiao An, what did I tell you? That woman’s no good,” Wang Guilan said, cradling Nuannuan as she walked over. “Still, you managed to send her packing. That’s something; her skin’s thicker than a wall.”

“Aunt Wang, sometimes it takes one tough person to deal with another. She thinks I’m easy to bully, so I showed her I’m not. Who’s afraid of whom?”

Wang Guilan paused, surprised—she’d never heard anyone call themselves tough before.

“Come on, Aunt Wang, let’s not miss the truck,” An Yan said, taking Lin Nuannuan from her arms and gently pinching the little girl’s cheek, making her giggle.

“Right, I almost forgot,” Wang Guilan replied.

Laughing and chatting, the two made their way to the parking lot at the station. At the entrance, a crowd had already gathered, waiting. Unlike Liu Xiuying, most of the women from the mountain were honest and friendly, greeting Wang Guilan and An Yan warmly.

An Yan saw the crowd, many with children—clearly, the kids were the happiest about the trip to town, darting about excitedly.

“Aunt Wang, are all these people headed to town?”

“Yes,” Wang Guilan replied.

“There are so many—will one truck be enough?” An Yan counted, estimating over twenty people.

“Haha, this is actually fewer than usual. Don’t worry, Xiao An, the truck’s plenty big,” Wang Guilan said, laughing.

Just then, several women familiar with Wang Guilan gathered around. An Yan thought she’d have trouble joining their conversation, but soon found herself deep in lively chatter. The topics, of course, were all sorts of neighborhood gossip.

An Yan used to think gossiping was a waste of time, but unexpectedly, she found herself enjoying it.

They waited a while longer, but no truck appeared; some women began to grow anxious.

“Why hasn’t the truck come yet? If we’re late, all the good stuff will be gone.”

“Yes, I was hoping to get to town early and make a couple of outfits for the kids,” another said.

An Yan glanced at the sky—it was probably no later than half past seven, but for the women, that was already late. In this era, good things weren’t guaranteed even if you had ration tickets; supplies were limited, and you had to queue early. If you arrived late, tickets meant nothing—you’d simply have bad luck.

An Yan recalled a scene from a film she’d seen, “Hello, Li Huanying,” about buying a television. The schemes people used for one TV were more dramatic than any business intrigue.

The mountain had only two trucks, usually busy with tasks. It was only after persistent demands from the families that the station agreed to let them go down to town once a month. If they missed out this time, they’d have to wait until next month.

Just as everyone grew anxious, a military truck finally arrived, albeit leisurely.

Once it stopped, everyone scrambled aboard. Wang Guilan was quick, climbing up first. “Xiao An, hand Nuannuan to me.”

An Yan had only climbed onto a truck once before, the day they came up the mountain, but then there were far fewer people. She had to squeeze for a long time before getting on. Wang Guilan had already spread her bag on the floor, making a spot for Nuannuan beside her to save a seat for An Yan.

The soldier driving saw everyone was aboard and secured the tailgate. “Ladies, hold tight. The road’s rough—keep your children close and don’t let them run about. It’s dangerous.”

Everyone nodded in agreement. An Yan wrapped Nuannuan tightly in her arms and covered the little girl’s head with her own scarf.

The truck moved slowly, bumping along the road. An Yan nearly felt sick several times, while Wang Guilan and the others seemed long accustomed, chatting away energetically.

“Hey, did you hear? Doctor Zhu was called to the district headquarters. I heard Commander Zhu was furious.”

Hearing Zhu Yan’s name, An Yan perked up her ears with curiosity. Looking up, she saw several people glancing at her.

She understood—Zhu Yan being scolded surely had something to do with Lin You.

An Yan managed a forced smile to ease the awkwardness.

Here she was, seated on the truck, and gossip descended like rain.

“Captain Lin’s wife, what do you use on your face? It’s so fair.”

“Yes, look at her skin—it’s even softer than Lin’s daughter’s.”

Suddenly surrounded, An Yan felt a strange sensation.

“Oh, come on, she just arrived. After a while, she’ll be just like us—maybe not even as good,” someone said.

An Yan picked up on the tone—pure envy. She turned and saw it was the long-faced woman who’d gossiped with Liu Xiuying about her before.

“Doctor Zhu has been here so long and is still so beautiful. Some people just arrived at the wrong time. As the saying goes, better to destroy ten temples than break up a marriage…”

An Yan couldn’t stand it. The sarcastic remarks were one thing, but now she was being lectured. “Sister-in-law, I don’t care for your words. Are Lin You and Doctor Zhu married? How am I breaking anything up? Haven’t you heard the saying, ‘A melon forced from the vine isn’t sweet’?”

“If you speak, at least use your head.”

The long-faced woman’s expression changed instantly. She’d thought An Yan was a delicate, timid girl, but hadn’t expected her to be so sharp-tongued. “Are you saying I don’t use my head?”

She stood up abruptly, as if ready to start a fight.

An Yan wasn’t afraid—she’d learned Wing Chun. “I was just speaking generally. If someone wants to take it personally, I can't help that.”