Chapter 90: Rather Than Reflecting on Oneself, It Is Better to Blame Others

She climbed onto the kang bed without any burden, then slipped into her space to tend to the land before finally going to sleep. In the following days, Lin Jingyue, Jiang Xun, and Zhou Yan all went into the mountains to collect firewood—winter required plenty of it.

One day, as the three of them descended the mountain with bundles of firewood, they saw a crowd of villagers excitedly heading toward the educated youth center. Lin Jingyue paused, already guessing the reason.

Sure enough, the women clustered around the center chattered away, quickly explaining the situation. As expected, Chen Chunlan had beaten her child. Somehow, Sun Liangdong, who was recovering from his injuries, found out, and now the two were in the middle of a row. Both the brigade leader and the Party branch secretary had come as well.

The two of them looked exasperated, heads pounding. Chen Chunlan, pale and numb in the face of everyone’s pointing fingers, snapped, “What do you know? Shut up!”

“If Sun Liangdong weren’t bedridden, would I have to beat the child? I’m struggling just to feed the two of us, what about the child?”

“If the brigade had given compensation, would I be in this position? It’s all your fault! Sun Liangdong was injured working on the reservoir—you should be compensating us!”

The brigade leader and secretary’s faces darkened further. Sun Liangdong’s injury was his own fault—everyone had warned him not to go where the rocks had just been blasted, but he insisted on showing off. Who could he blame but himself?

“I don’t care, it’s all your fault! You’ve not only ruined my husband, but now you’re ruining my child…” Chen Chunlan plopped down on the ground, wailing and smearing her tears.

Everyone fell silent.

Lin Jingyue’s mouth twitched—excellent, instead of reflecting on herself, Chen Chunlan was masterful at blaming others.

So the drama dragged on with no resolution. Sun Liangdong was still stuck in bed, powerless to act. In the end, the matter fizzled out—well, except the brigade paid twenty yuan in compensation, and only then was it settled.

The brigade leader and secretary looked as if they’d swallowed something foul.

The villagers’ impression of the educated youth only worsened.

After the crowd dispersed, Luo Jianhua, looking displeased, spoke to Chen Chunlan, “You shouldn’t have—”

“My decisions are none of your business! Who are you to me? I have a husband—I don’t need you.” She cut him off before he could finish.

Luo Jianhua and Xie Wenjuan’s faces both darkened.

What had Chen Chunlan turned into—a block of unyielding pig iron?

“Hmph.” With a snort, Chen Chunlan went back inside. Soon, the sounds of an argument and things being thrown came from the house, and only after a long while did it quiet down.

Lin Jingyue noticed Xia Nan looking troubled and asked in a low voice. When she learned Xia Nan had lent money to Chen Chunlan, she was left speechless.

“I thought she was pitiful and couldn’t help myself,” Xia Nan admitted. After discovering the money was used to beat the child, she regretted it—but it was already too late.

Drama at the educated youth center seemed never-ending, but Lin Jingyue didn’t dwell on it. After the show, she rode her bicycle into town.

Originally Jiang Xun wanted to go with her, but she persuaded him to stay behind.

Going alone made things much more convenient if she needed to take care of any business.

“Comrade Lin!” No sooner had she left the village than she ran into Aunt Liu and Aunt Hua, each carrying a basket.

“Do you need something, Aunt Liu?” Lin Jingyue didn’t slow her steps.

“Give us a lift, Comrade Lin—don’t ride so fast…” Before she could finish, Lin Jingyue had already sped past them.

Aunt Liu was left speechless.

Aunt Hua, annoyed, muttered, “You even let her cut in line, but she doesn’t appreciate it at all.”

“She says she has no manners, right? Well, people without manners act just like that—don’t take it to heart,” Aunt Liu replied, suppressing the twitch at the corner of her mouth.

The two exchanged a silent look.

After walking a while, they again saw Lin Jingyue’s figure ahead, next to a stopped ox cart.

Curious, they approached.

Lin Jingyue greeted them with a bright smile, “Aunt Liu, Aunt Hua, come quick! I flagged down an ox cart for you. I’m too scrawny to give you a ride myself, so I’ll head out first—see you in town!”

With that, she shot off like the wind.

Aunt Liu and Aunt Hua were left speechless.

The ox cart driver and the passengers were also dumbfounded.

Unbelievable—Lin Jingyue was truly something else!

They hadn’t wanted to ride to save money, so why had she flagged down the cart? Was this girl out of her mind?

Oblivious, Lin Jingyue hummed a tune, quite pleased with herself.

Once in town, she went to find Zhou Mingxue.

Today was the exchange market, and she wanted to see if there were any good finds.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” Zhou Mingxue sighed with relief when she spotted her.

“I wouldn’t miss it—I’m a woman of my word.” Lin Jingyue smoothed her coat.

Only then did Zhou Mingxue notice the coat made from that piece of wool fabric. “People say fine clothes make the man, but you’re the exception. I never realized that fabric could look so nice.”

It made her want to buy a piece for herself.

“It’s all about bearing—you can’t imitate it,” Lin Jingyue sniffed, chin raised, looking infuriatingly smug.

“That’s enough!” Zhou Mingxue rolled her eyes and dragged her to the exchange.

“By the way, where’s your boyfriend? Not going on a date?”

“Da—date?” Zhou Mingxue blushed. “Why do you always blurt out everything?”

Lin Jingyue was baffled. What had she said?

After wandering the exchange, Lin Jingyue came away with two skeins of yarn, a length of gray wool fabric—enough to make something for Jiang Xun—and a pair of slightly flawed cotton shoes for herself.

She also acquired a piece of army-green cloth for making clothes. By now, she was known among the regulars at the exchange. People would save good things for her because she was generous with her trades.

“I have some errands, so I’ll head off first. I’ll treat you to a meal next time,” she said as she parted from Zhou Mingxue.

Watching her go, Zhou Mingxue could only laugh in exasperation. Would buying her a meal really break the bank?

But Lin Jingyue truly was pressed for time. She had a slaughtered pig and five hundred jin of sand-mixed rice stored in her space—she was getting ready to make a sale.

She never missed a chance to earn money.

After changing her appearance, she headed to Tian Yang’s courtyard.

“Tian Yang isn’t here?” Entering, she found only one of Tian Yang’s men.

“Brother Yang’s gone to the city. If you’ve got goods, hand them over to me,” the man patted his chest confidently.

“I have over three hundred jin of pork and five hundred jin of rice. Can you take it? Give me some cloth and sugar ration coupons, and some cotton coupons if you have them—if not, that’s fine.”

“We’ll take it all! Brother Yang left instructions—same place and time as before?” The man was excited at the prospect of her pork—it always sold well.

“Yes, same place, just a bit later—around three o’clock,” Lin Jingyue replied.

She still needed time to make a few more deals.

“All right, I’ll gather the coupons as quickly as I can.”

Leaving the courtyard, Lin Jingyue wandered the nearby alleys, already familiar with them. She was just about to find a quiet spot to enter her space when she turned a corner and spotted a shifty-looking woman in a headscarf.

Lin Jingyue’s eyes narrowed sharply.

Lin Xinrou?!

She’d recognize those eyes anywhere, even if they’d turned to dust.

So, this woman had finally lost her resolve and come to the black market?

Lin Jingyue followed her quietly. Perhaps because she was pregnant, Lin Xinrou moved slowly, carrying a basket and wearing patched clothes—she looked for all the world like some poor relative from the countryside.

After several twists and turns, Lin Jingyue saw her slip through the black market entrance.

Tsk.

PS: Lin Jingyue: As long as I have no morals, you can’t morally blackmail me.
Chen Chunlan: Why reflect on myself when I can blame others? It’s all your fault!