Chapter Eighty: Yue Hehua's Home

As mentioned earlier, Chen Liang and his companion were clad in dark blue winter uniforms of the 1959 Public Security style—attire that anyone with eyes could easily recognize for what it was. The middle-aged woman’s expression changed, her nerves betraying her guilt, the look of someone with something to hide.

But Chen Liang paid her no mind, stepping past her directly into the courtyard. Damn, this courtyard was no small affair—it was almost the size of three rooms in Chen Liang’s own home. Places like this didn’t seem valuable now, but after the reforms and opening up, when the government began demolishing homes for new construction, owning such a courtyard would be a gold mine.

A bit over a hundred miles from the capital, in later years it would fall within the third ring road. Security guards driving BMWs and Mercedes to work—those were today’s rural folk. As for city dwellers, except for the few who caught the wind of reform and made their fortune, most urban residents in the old city weren’t all that well-off. The stories of everyone in old Beijing being rich were just exaggerations; the real money belonged to these rural folks whose land was taken for development.

As the saying goes, “Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west”—life is unpredictable, fortunes shift, who could foresee what was to come?

When Chen Liang entered the house, Old Third Yue was already up, chatting with the brigade leaders. Tea was out of the question, but each had a bowl of plain boiled water.

Upon entering, Chen Liang discreetly exchanged glances with the brigade cadres, then cleared his throat. “Which of you is Comrade Yue Hehua? I’m from the Security Section of Hongxing Steelworks—I need to ask her a few questions.”

“That’s me. May I ask what you want with me?” The young woman who had been cutting pigweed earlier stepped forward.

Truth be told, Chen Liang had to admire her acting. When she’d first seen Borba, she’d clearly been agitated, but after catching Chen Liang’s eye, she immediately regained her composure, adopting a timid, fearful demeanor.

Old Third Yue had heard the rumors about his daughter, but he didn’t care. In his mind, Yue Hehua’s main purpose was to be married off for her uncle’s bride price.

“Find a room where no one else is around—I have questions for her.” The authority of Chen Liang’s uniform was formidable. Old Third Yue was so intimidated he didn’t dare utter a word, hurriedly arranging for Chen Liang and Yue Hehua to go into the inner room, while he kept his distance.

After closing the door and drawing the curtain, Chen Liang looked at Yue Hehua. “You’re Yue Hehua?”

“Yes. May I ask what your relationship is with Borba?” Yue Hehua’s tone was tinged with agitation.

“I’m his senior apprentice. Don’t get worked up, just sit and listen to what I have to say.”

“To be honest, I had no idea your family situation would be like this when I came—it’s completely unsuitable for my junior.”

“But my junior is as stubborn as a mule—once he gets an idea in his head, there’s no talking him out of it. He insists on marrying you, so I’ll be blunt.”

He studied the clearly agitated Yue Hehua, then continued in a measured tone, “Your current act is quite good. When you marry my junior, I’ll need you to keep it up.”

The air of authority Chen Liang carried pressed down on Yue Hehua until she could barely breathe. “I can help you escape your misery, but I can also drag you to hell. If you dare show your true nature, I’ll make you wish you were dead.”

Yue Hehua trembled all over, terrified by his words. “I… I don’t know what you mean!” She was just a cunning village girl—how could she withstand such intimidation?

Chen Liang just smiled. “Good. Keep it that way.”

From the moment he laid eyes on her, Chen Liang could tell she was far too calculating—not at all a good match for Borba. But as the saying goes, “one man’s meat is another man’s poison.” Borba liked her type, and both master and junior were equally stubborn—if Chen Liang couldn’t solve the problem, he’d just have to deal with the person causing it.

“That’s all I have to say. Anything you want to add?”

“Does Borba really want to marry me?” As soon as he finished speaking, Yue Hehua grabbed Chen Liang’s arm.

Unhurried, Chen Liang pulled his arm away from her chest without even giving her a glance. Was she really trying such childish tricks on him? Even the simpleton next door wouldn’t fall for that, let alone him.

Simpleton: Say what you like, but why use me as an example? Do I have no dignity?

Chen Liang grabbed her by the throat, forcing her to look at him. “It seems you didn’t hear a word I said.”

He tightened his grip, letting her feel the creeping despair of suffocation. Only when Yue Hehua was on the verge of fainting did he release her, tossing her aside.

Gasping desperately for breath, Yue Hehua stared at Chen Liang in terror, certain that in that moment he had truly meant to kill her.

“I’m sorry, I’ll never do it again,” Yue Hehua stammered, collapsing to the ground, her defenses shattered.

“Good. Remember, you’ve wasted one chance already—this is your last. Don’t force my hand, understand?”

“Fix yourself up. We’ll be going out in a moment. Oh, and how much did your father sell you for?”

The question was bloody and raw. Yue Hehua was silent for a moment, then began to weep. “Thirty yuan. He wanted to marry me off to an old widower in Shanggezhuang. When I refused, he beat me and starved me. I didn’t want to marry him, so I ran off to the city with my cousin, only to be betrayed by her. I…”

“Enough crying. Remember to put on a more pitiful act outside, got it?”

After issuing the order, Chen Liang lifted the curtain and stepped out.

He turned to Old Third Yue. “Alright, official business is done. Now let’s talk private matters.”

“I hear you’re a relic of feudalism, still believe in arranged marriages?” Chen Liang began, slapping a heavy accusation on him.

“No, no, comrade! Absolutely not—it was all my wife’s doing, nothing to do with me!” Old Third Yue was as anxious as an ant on a hot pan. Seeing the look in Chen Liang’s eyes, he hurriedly shoved his second wife forward.

The middle-aged woman, who had borne Old Third Yue two sons, looked at him in disbelief. But seeing the fierce expression on his face, her gaze soon fell, dull and gray.

“Alright, you—come here. Since you say you had nothing to do with it, let me ask you: did you or did you not take money from the old widower in Shanggezhuang?”

Chen Liang pressed on. “Think carefully before you answer. Spreading feudal ideas so brazenly could land you in the labor camp!”