18. The Wedding Date

Yao Zhizhi was quite happy; she was finally going to leave this place behind. If she had parents who truly cherished their daughter, she wouldn’t have rushed to marry before her older sisters. But fate had arrived, and she could no longer worry about her sisters. At least she had tried to fight for them, and Yao Erdan, acting as the commune chief, had promised not to force them to marry men with previous marriages.

Yao Zhizhi was no saint; as long as she had a clear conscience, that was enough.

She entered cheerfully, greeted the elders, and sat beside Tang Fengyuan, ignoring Qi Changxiao. It was the matchmaker’s first time bringing the groom’s family to visit. If she appeared too familiar with Qi Changxiao, who knew what gossip would spread among the onlookers at the door. Although she didn’t plan to live here anymore, she still had to consider the impact on her sisters, so it was best to maintain some reserve.

Of course, she was a little wary of Qi Changxiao’s thoughts and glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He looked good—white shirt, black trousers, neatly combed hair, meticulous in every detail. The whole person was clean and refreshing, a sight that lifted the spirits.

The young man seemed shy, staring at the pomegranate tree in her courtyard and pretending not to care about her ignoring him. Yao Zhizhi wanted to laugh—such an innocent young man. She wondered if he would remain as quietly picturesque after marriage.

Smiling, she shifted closer to Tang Fengyuan. “Auntie Tang, you look well today.”

Tang Fengyuan liked her and held her hand, chatting casually. “Happy occasions brighten the spirit! Zhizhi, why did you come back so late?”

“I didn’t know you were coming; I went to visit a classmate,” Yao Zhizhi replied, not wanting Yao Erdan to know she had made money in the city, so she avoided mentioning writing articles for the newspaper. As for the money from the bamboo weaving crafts, she was saving it as her dowry, and Yao Erdan dared not take it away.

Fortunately, Tang Fengyuan was perceptive. From her vague words, she guessed there was something Zhizhi didn’t want the family to know and deftly changed the subject.

After some conversation, the customary introductions began, led by Matchmaker Yan. Both sets of parents introduced their sons and daughters, covering age, height, then personality, hobbies, and work.

When Tang Fengyuan mentioned her son was convalescing at home and not working, many of the onlookers outside breathed a sigh of relief. This was typical—worried about the brother suffering, yet afraid he might show off driving a Land Rover. Yao Zhizhi often heard such teasing during the end times.

In any case, minimizing envy and jealousy was a survival philosophy. Like a girl under her command who always hid most of her crystal cores, leaving only a few visible to deal with curious gazes. It was about striking a balance—too few, and others looked down on you; too many, and they envied you.

Tang Fengyuan handled this balance well. Others might envy Yao Zhizhi for becoming a city dweller with a police officer mother-in-law, but once they thought of her husband as a sickly man without a job, their minds were instantly at ease.

Sure enough, a gossipmonger outside couldn’t resist and asked, “What illness? Serious?”

Tang Fengyuan smiled and refused to answer, making the situation all the more intriguing.

The envious crowd soon dispersed, and people began to speculate on the street.

“I was wondering why a city man would choose a village girl—it must be to bring good luck to his son.”

“Don’t say nonsense, that’s feudal superstition.”

“It’s just between us; no one else can hear.”

“Do you think Yao Zhizhi will become a widow after marrying?”

“Hard to say. That man’s face is as red as if he’s burning up—maybe he’s really not long for this world.”

“Better if he can’t have children, so Yao Erdan won’t flaunt his power. It’s annoying to see.”

“Don’t be so cruel. It’s better if they have a child. Maybe one day we’ll have to go to the city for business, and Yao Zhizhi can help.”

“That’s true. Let’s just wish her a quick pregnancy then.”

***

Yao Erdan was beaming with happiness. His anxious heart was finally at rest. This marriage was truly a good match!

He hadn’t expected such sincerity—a police officer personally bringing his son to propose. It was both honorable and respectable.

In life, people only pursue power and fame. Now with such a good in-law, Yao Erdan could hold his head high, upright and proud.

He happily prepared a feast, and after the meal, they chatted some more.

“So Xiaotao has met you before!” Yao Erdan was delighted to discover the families’ connection had started earlier.

Tang Fengyuan smiled. “She was looking for Zhu Ben and didn’t know the way, so I took her.”

“Oh, that explains it!” Yao Erdan quickly asked, “Did Xiaotao thank Auntie Tang then?”

“She did.” Yao Taotao was also quite happy; the fifth sister’s marriage looked promising.

She believed Qi Changxiao would live a long life and was confident her younger sister would love him deeply and grow old together.

The two families chatted merrily until two in the afternoon. Tang Fengyuan and her son finally stood to leave—they still had to wait for the bus.

Yao Erdan quickly borrowed an ox cart from the brigade to escort the in-laws part of the way.

When the cart stopped, Tang Fengyuan cheerfully climbed aboard without a hint of disdain.

Yao Zhizhi fetched two items from her room and also climbed onto the cart.

They were two palm-sized baskets she had woven from bamboo strips, each with a small round lid inside that could hold needles, threads, or pens and erasers, keeping dust out.

One for each of them.

At the commune bus stop, Yao Zhizhi handed the baskets to Tang Fengyuan. “Auntie Tang, I don’t have anything valuable. This is a small token; please don’t dislike it.”

Tang Fengyuan had never seen such exquisite, delicate baskets with patterns on them. They looked intricately made—definitely no market goods.

Curious, she asked, “Did you make these yourself?”

Yao Zhizhi smiled and nodded. “Yes, I wanted to prepare a little gift for you. Do you like them?”

“I do! Very much! Right, Changxiao?” Knowing her son well, Tang Fengyuan knew he hadn’t said much and was feeling a bit frustrated, so she quickly gave him an opening.

Qi Changxiao took one basket, examined it carefully, and sincerely praised, “So skillful and unexpected. Zhizhi, you’re excellent.”

Yao Zhizhi moved closer to speak to him. “If you like them, I’ll make more in different sizes.”

“Good,” Qi Changxiao replied, though he couldn’t hear her clearly. His ears were buzzing like a beehive, making it hard to focus.

He could only try to read her lips and guess.

In truth, any words would do; his mind was full of thoughts about what it would be like to kiss her.

Only when Tang Fengyuan urged him several times did he come back to himself—it was time to leave.

He felt regretful. After spending half the day there, he’d only said a few words.

Pinching his burning ears, he pulled two round objects from his pocket. “Here. Girls usually love to look nice. I hope you like these.”

Were these tokens of affection?

Yao Zhizhi wasn’t sure but accepted them.

One was a folding mirror, finely crafted and beautiful.

The other was scented powder from Xie Fuchun. She didn’t know the brand’s history, but the packaging was thoughtful and elegant, exuding a subtle fragrance—the scent of gardenias.

Yao Zhizhi loved it. A dimpled smile full of joy brightened her face as she looked up and said, “Thank you, Brother Changxiao.”

Her voice was crisp and sweet, her radiant smile dazzling.

Qi Changxiao, though sober, felt intoxicated.

He reached out, wanting to touch her smooth, creamy cheek but stopped himself, fearing it might be too forward.

He longed to be close yet dared not overstep. Deep down, he was a gentleman.

Yao Zhizhi liked that and playfully said with a double meaning, “Thank you. I like everything—including you!”

Winking mischievously, she turned to bid Auntie Tang goodbye.

Qi Changxiao reluctantly left.

Only after losing sight of Yao Zhizhi did he lower his head, caressing the little basket in his hand. So round, so smooth, without any bamboo splinters—it must have been sanded and lacquered. Very carefully made.

He liked it immensely.

He couldn’t help but whisper to his mother, “Give them all to me.”

Tang Fengyuan laughed helplessly and handed it over. “No one’s competing with you. Are you childish or what?”

Qi Changxiao was satisfied, cradling one basket and examining it carefully.

Tang Fengyuan sighed, “Her parents don’t look like pushovers. Your mother never plays favorites. Don’t blame me later.”

“Mm.” Qi Changxiao wasn’t a fool.

What mattered most was living well with Yao Zhizhi; the rest was irrelevant.

He wasn’t about to pull strings or seek favors.

If asked, he’d say he was dying and couldn’t help.

Tang Fengyuan seemed to guess his thoughts and sternly warned, “Don’t talk about life or death so freely! You have to live well! Otherwise, what does the girl marry you for?”

“Mm.” Qi Changxiao was genuinely convinced—perhaps his mother was like a worm in his belly!

But he knew he had to curb his pessimism.

Otherwise, Zhizhi would despise him.

She was like a little sun, full of vitality; he didn’t want to be her cloud, nor her night.

He straightened up and began counting days on his fingers.

Soon, the wedding date in August would arrive in the blink of an eye.

He wasn’t anxious; he planned to recuperate properly—no mishaps on the wedding night.

***

Yao Jingzong received a call from Old Qin.

He spoke politely, saying his son couldn’t match up to their family, which was a stab to Yao Jingzong’s heart.

Their son was the real talent; his daughter Jingjing was nothing.

But with things as they were, what else could he do?

He could only try to compensate Old Qin’s family.

So he inquired if Old Qin’s family was doing well lately.

The unspoken message was: if not, come to me.

Old Qin naturally didn’t miss such an opportunity and tearfully said, “Our Yicheng is grieving deeply. Last night he had no appetite, and today he didn’t eat before going to work. If this continues, what will happen to his health?”

Yao Jingzong was helpless. He wasn’t a woman who could marry a man to repay a debt of gratitude.

Otherwise, he would have done it long ago.

He straightforwardly asked, “How about this, Old Qin? I’ll accept Yicheng as my godson?”