Wei Jiajia went into the kitchen and saw that Aunt Fen had already steamed a pot of mixed-grain rice. She hurried over to help wash the vegetables.
“Aunt Fen, let me handle it from here.”
“Oh, no need, I’m almost done washing these. Just stir-fry later. I don’t know what it is, but the kids prefer your cooking. It’s strange—everything seems the same, but somehow, the food tastes better when you make it,” Aunt Fen said with a smile.
With a hint of guilt, Wei Jiajia lowered her gaze and replied, “I don’t know—have a natural talent for cooking.”
In reality, it wasn’t talent but the secret use of flavorful seasonings that made the difference. Aunt Fen’s cooking was excellent, but her dishes lacked the flavor-enhancing seasonings that Wei Jiajia secretly added.
For breakfast, Aunt Fen usually prepared everything in advance so everyone could eat right after waking up.
At lunchtime, the older children had school, but the twins’ elementary school was close enough for them to come home.
Wei Jiajia’s middle school, however, was farther away—about a half-hour bike ride—so she always ate luch at the school cafeteria. By the time she got home in the evening, dinner was ready, leaving weekends as her time to prepare two meals and spice things up for the family.
With quick, deft movements, Wei Jiajia chopped the green onions, ginger, and garlic. She poured oil into the pan, waited for it to heat up, then tossed in the onions, ginger, and garlic, stirring them until the fragrance filled the air. Next, she added the thinly sliced potatoes, stir-frying them briskly before drizzling in a bit of soy sauce. A few more stirs, and the dish was ready to be plated.
She followed up with stir-fried cabbage, a seaweed salad, and a simple tofu-and-greens soup. With that, lunch was ready.
The seaweed, naturally, had been taken from her secret space.
She had told Aunt Fen that she had bought it from a street vendor she noticed on her way home from school.
No one questioned her. After all, Shencheng was close to the coast, and when harvests were poor, fishermen often traded seafood for grain and supplies. Many city dwellers took advantage of these exchanges to add variety to their meals, and authorities rarely intervened.
The twins moved swiftly—one set the table, while the other brought the dishes. By the time Wei Jiajia brought out the soup, everyone was already seated at the table, waiting for her to join them.
“Big Sis, come sit next to me!” Little Nuannuan kicked her short legs back and forth as she called out excitedly.
“No, Big Sis is sitting next to me today!” Yangyang said sharply, shooting a glare at his sister.
This playful tug-of-war happened almost every day, and the two little ones never got tired of it.
Unperturbed, Wei Jiajia walked over, sat between them, and said, “Hurry up and eat. The food will get cold, and it won’t be as tasty. If you don’t start soon, your brothers will finish everything.”
At this, the two glanced over and saw their brothers’ chopsticks flying. Panicking, they buried their heads in their bowls, devouring rice and vegetables with delighted munching sounds.
After lunch, Wei Jiajia took the two little ones outside to walk off their food before settling them down for a nap.
Meanwhile, the older twins dutifully cleared the table and washed the dishes before heading to the backyard with Aunt Fen and Great-Aunt to water and fertilize the vegetable patch. Thanks to Aunt Fen’s meticulous care, the vegetables were thriving. In a month, the family would be able to enjoy their first harvest.
Once the little ones were sound asleep, Wei Jiajia headed outside to help. Many hands made quick work of the chores, but the heat of midday soon drove everyone back to their rooms for a break.
Lying on her bed, Wei Jiajia’s mind raced with thoughts of what was to come. The college entrance examination was just around the corner. A year after that would come the Great Leap Forward and the collectivization of agriculture, events that, due to exaggerated grain yields and harsh weather conditions would lead to a catastrophic famine that would last for three years.
Although there was plenty of food stored in her magical space, Wei Jiajia knew she couldn’t just take it out without caution. It was all refined grain, and bringing too much of it into the household would only raise questions she couldn’t answer.
It was better to start preparing now. When the famine came, she would need supplies not only for her own family but also for Granny Zhang and Aunt Wenjuan’s families.
Her thoughts also turned to her parents’ comrades from the military. Many of them had relatives in rural areas. Knowing what was to come, she couldn’t openly warn them without exposing herself, but with her resources, she could start laying the groundwork to help as many people as possible. It was the least she could do to ease her conscience.
Her parents’ comrades had shown great care and concern for her family after their deaths. Granny Zhang’s family had always been close. When her parents were stationed far away and unable to come home, the Zhangs had looked after her family.
Then there was Aunt Wenjuan, who had loved her since she was a child, often sending letters, food, and other necessities.
With these thoughts filling her mind, she drifted off to sleep…
The next day was Monday. The children woke up early, had breakfast, and got ready for school.
“Jiajia, hurry up! We’re going to be late!” A bright, crisp voice called from outside the door.
“I’m coming!” Wei Jiajia responded as she slung her schoolbag, dashed out of the house, and jumped onto her bicycle. She shouted toward the courtyard, “Auntie, I’m off to school!”
A tall girl with two long, thick braids pedaled the bike. She was nearly 1.7 meters tall and had a graceful, elegant appearance—just the kind of beauty that was highly admired in this era.
She was Zhang Huimin, the original Wei Jiajia’s best friend since childhood. Only three months older, Huimin was the youngest daughter of Granny Zhang’s eldest son. The two had grown up together and shared the same classroom and desk at school.
The original Jiajia had been a gentle, stunningly beautiful girl, often envied by other girls. Zhang Huimin, on the other hand, was fiery and protective, always standing up for Jiajia and treating her like a younger sister.
While Jiajia was working toward her goal of passing the university entrance exams, Huimin had her sights set on a different dream—joining the military as a singer in the art trupe.
“I thought you were staying at your uncle’s place this weekend. I figured you’d go straight to school from there and was debating whether I should take the bus by myself,” Jiajia asked from the bicycle’s back seat.
“Stay there? No way! I came back as soon as it got dark yesterday, but it was too late to visit you, though. My cousin at my second uncle’s house drives me crazy—I get annoyed just looking at her, let alone sharing a room with her!” Zhang Huimin huffed in frustration.
“What happened? Did she give you trouble again?”
Wei Jiajia said this because every time Zhang Huimin spent time with her cousin, she ended up fuming with anger.
“She wants to join the performing arts troupe and told my mom to give her my spot. Just thinking about it makes my blood boil. My uncle only managed to secure one position, and if she takes it, what am I supposed to do? She’s got some nerve. And don’t get me started on my aunt—ugh, do you know what she said?”
Huimin cleared her throat, then imitated her aunt’s delicate, syrupy voice, “Huimin, sweetheart, why not give this chance to your cousin? You’re still young and the military will be recruiting again next year. You can go then. Your cousin is beautiful, and once she’s successful, she’ll surely take care of you.”
She rolled her eyes and snorted bitterly. “Take care of me? Please! It’s a miracle if she doesn’t steal my stuff! She’s been doing it since we were kids.”
“The only reason I went was because my grandma is sick, and my mom would’ve given me an earful if I hadn’t gone. Otherwise, no way would I have put up with all that.”
“Besides, how often does the military even recruit for the art tropue? I love singing. If I give up this chance and the recruitment doesn’t come around again, I’ll be devastated. Meanwhile, my cousin will be hiding somewhere, laughing her head off at me.”
As she spoke, a mischievous grin spread across her face, and she added playfully, “I told them outright—why wait for my cousin to ‘make it’ and take care of me? I’m prettier than she is, my singing is miles better, and the arts troupe is all about talent. My cousin can’t hold a tune—if she gets in, they’ll kick her out in no time. That’d be a huge embarrassment! Better not waste the spot on her. But me? I’d thrive in the troupe and do much better than she ever could. Oh, you should’ve seen her face—it turned green with rage!” Huimin finished with a burst of laughter.
Wei Jiajia couldn’t help but laugh too. She loved Huimin’s personality—so cheerful, bold, and full of energy. Huimin’s positivity made her a joy to be around.
The two friends joked and laughed their way to school, parked their bike in the bike shed, and rushed to their classroom.
They barely sat down when the bell rang. Sharing a knowing smile, they quickly pulled out their books and paid attention to class.
“Jiajia,” whispered a classmate, “can you help me with this problem? I didn’t really get what the teacher was saying.”
Wang Weiguo, the class monitor, approached with a textbook in hand, asking Wei Jiajia for help. He had a refined appearance—around 1.75 meters tall, with a pair of gold-rimmed glasses that gave him the look of a scholarly gentleman.
“Look, look, the monitor’s going to talk to Wei Jiajia again,” someone muttered.
“All she’s got is a pretty face—what else does she have that compares to our Tingting? Who knows what tricks she used to lure the monitor in?”
“Exactly—a little vixen, that’s what she is.”
Several female voices murmured from the back of the classroom. Although the words weren’t entirely clear, the tone was unmistakably unpleasant.
It wasn’t the first time this had happened. Every time Wang Weiguo approached Wei Jiajia, those faint whispers would surface from the back of the classroom.
The ones gossiping were Zhao Ting’s loyal followers. Zhao Ting had grown up alongside Wang Weiguo; they were childhood sweethearts, and their families had tacitly agreed they would marry in the future.
But for some reason, in the six months, Wang Weiguo’s attention had repeatedly drifted toward Wei Jiajia. This had infuriated Zhao Ting, who had confronted him about it, but he always brushed it off, saying she was imagining things.
Though Zhao Ting didn’t join in when her friends gossiped about Wei Jiajia, she never tried to put an end to it.
Zhao Ting didn’t intervene because, deep down, she understood that Wang Weiguo definitely had feelings for Wei Jiajia. He simply didn’t dare express them openly due to the tacit engagement between their families and her father’s influential position.
Wei Jiajia was undeniably beautiful. If it weren’t for her looks, why else would Wang Weiguo be interested in only asking her for help when there were other top students in the class?
Even though Wei Jiajia had never shown any special interest in Wang Weiguo and had never interacted with him in private, who could predict what might happen in the future?
After all, her parents were gone. Given her situation, who was to say she wouldn’t be tempted by Wang Weiguo’s affluent background and try to seduce him someday? That alone made her a threat in Zhao Ting’s eyes—one she couldn’t help but despise.
Meanwhile, Wei Jiajia wasn’t exactly thrilled about Wang Weiguo’s constant attention. Initially, she hadn’t thought much of it, but his frequent excuses to seek her out soon made his intentions clear. Unfortunately for him, she had no interest in him.
Although Wang Weiguo was good at concealing his thoughts, she still caught glimpses of his true nature when he looked at other classmates with an air of condescension, superiority, and faint disdain.
It was common knowledge that Wang Weiguo and Zhao Ting were childhood sweethearts, with a marriage arrangement already set between their families. Yet, he blatantly ignored that fact, coming to find her again and again, showing little regard for his supposed fiancée. Even if he disguised his intentions under the pretense of studying, his actions were terribly inconvenient for Wei Jiajia.
Didn’t he notice that every time he approached her the whispers among the girls in the class would come out?
“Sorry, Class Monitor, I don’t know how to solve that problem either. Why don’t you ask someone else?”
Without waiting for a reply, she leaned over and grabbed Zhang Huimin, who was seated beside her, and gave her a subtle wink. “Didn’t you just say you needed to go to the restroom? Let’s go before the next class starts.”
“Huh? I—oh, right! Yes, the restroom! Come on, hurry, or we’ll be late!” Zhang Huimin quickly played along, pulling Wei Jiajia by the arm as they rushed out of the classroom.
Wang Weiguo watched them leave, a polite smile still fixed on his face. But when he lowered his head, the shadow in his eyes betrayed a dark and calculating gloom.
Axolotl Translations 
Leave a comment