Chapter 11

Yun Chun’s family home was in a remote county town under Radiance City. Even after reaching the county seat, they still had to drive for another half hour to get to the village.

It was dusk now, the horizon dyed orange beneath the towering mountains. Along the winding road at the foot of the hills, plenty of folks were heading back from their fields. By the roadside at the village entrance sat a few who didn’t need to work the land or had already eaten dinner. They fanned themselves lazily, cracked sunflower seeds, and a couple puffed on cigarettes, trading idle chatter about this household’s business or that one’s gossip.

When two white minivans kicked up a cloud of dust as they rolled into the village, the group fell silent in unison, their eyes glued to the vehicles.

The vans pulled over by the roadside as soon as they entered.

Moments later, with the doors swinging open, five or six burly men clambered out of each one. Their arms, necks, and the legs bared by their shorts were covered in garish tattoos—some from head to toe in dark, intricate patterns. Most of the village’s able-bodied adults had gone out to work in the cities, leaving behind the elderly and children. The older generation lounging by the street had rarely left the village and certainly never seen tattoos up close. In their old-school minds, only street thugs marked up their bodies like that. With these guys’ towering, muscular builds, the villagers instinctively pegged them as trouble.

No one made a sound as they watched the newcomers. After a bit, curiosity got the better of them, and they turned to whisper among themselves.

While they buzzed with what they thought were hushed voices—but loud enough for anyone to hear—the passenger door of the lead van swung open from inside. A leg stretched out, easily over a meter long.

The first thing Yun Chun did upon stepping out was stretch her arms high, arch her back, and roll her neck.

The bumpy road had nearly shaken her apart.

Her gaze swept over the roadside crowd. Far from intimidated by their stares, she lowered her arms after loosening up and greeted a few of them in her thick local dialect, like a general inspecting his troops: “Second Uncle, Second Aunt, Great-Grandma, Grandpa—you all still kicking back? Eaten dinner yet?”

The ones she called out squinted, then broke into grins as they recognized her. “Yeah, yeah, we’ve eaten.”

Second Uncle’s wrinkled eyes narrowed, then widened in surprise. “Little Yun? What brings you back? And who’s this lot…?”

Yun Chun, who’d spent plenty of time in the city, slipped effortlessly into the dialect. “Just some friends of mine. Nothing to worry about—we’re heading home for a visit.”

Friends? The villagers blinked. These guys didn’t look like the friendly type…

How’d Little Yun get mixed up with them?

After answering, Yun Chun smiled and pointed toward a house down the way. “Lü Feng’s home, right?”

“Yeah, he’s in. Just popped over to the corner store for booze.”

“Alright then, you folks keep chatting. I’ll go say hi.”

With that, she turned to the burly men and jerked a thumb at the house. “That’s the one with the red gate. I’ll head in first—you wait for my call before coming over.”

The leader among them grinned. “Got it.”

The roadside crowd watched as Yun Chun exchanged a few words with the intimidating bunch, then strode off alone toward her house.

“Qingming isn’t for a while yet—why’s Little Yun back? And heading straight home, no less.”

“You forget? That ghost marriage they arranged for her…”

“Bringing a crew like that—think she’s here to settle things with Lü Feng?”

The possibility dawned on the group quickly.

“I say it’s what Er Feng deserves! A fine girl like Little Yun, and he pulls that stunt…”

“Should we go check it out?”

“With those guys? You wanna get caught in a brawl?”

As they debated, the Village Secretary among them watched Yun Chun duck into Lü Feng’s house. He glanced at the men by the vans, spotted the bats stashed under the seats, flicked away his cigarette, and hurried off toward the Village Chief’s place.

Meanwhile, the woman Yun Chun had called Second Aunt stood and made for Yanping’s house.

Sure, Yun Chun had greeted them, but in the village, only Yanping carried real weight when it came to her.

~~~

Stepping into the courtyard where she’d grown up, Yun Chun felt a momentary daze.

She hadn’t set foot in here since her mother’s funeral and her departure to work in the city.

The place looked much as she remembered, and yet somehow different.

Take the clothesline in the middle of the yard, strung with three floral-print maxidresses—nothing like the ones from her memories. Her mom had rarely worn skirts, let alone anything so flashy. All her clothes had been practical and simple, made for fieldwork.

In Yun Chun’s mind, any skirt on that line had always been hers—a little white dress her mom had specially bought her at market, fluttering in the breeze and carrying her mother’s scent.

Yun Chun pressed her lips together.

Her eyes shifted to the main house, where flakes of red paint peeled from the wooden window frames, giving them a worn, mottled look.

She glanced around, then fixed on the central door. In the lower right corner of the glass pane lingered a sticker from her childhood bubblegum phase. Without that faded sticker and the marks of time screaming change, Yun Chun might have felt her heart stir.

The blare of the television drowned out the living room, so the three at the dinner table didn’t notice her until she pushed open the creaky old door.

When they saw Yun Chun, Lu Zhi froze. Lü Feng did too.

The guilty pair sat stunned even as she reached the table.

Lu Zhi recovered first, standing to speak. “Y-you’re Little Yun, right?”

Since shacking up with Lü Feng, she’d never properly met Yun Chun—only crossed paths once when Yun Chun returned for the grave-sweeping, without exchanging words.

Yun Chun eyed the woman, hummed in acknowledgment, then dropped her gaze to the lavish spread of chicken, fish, and meat on the table. She smiled. “Eating pretty well, huh?”

Lu Zhi rubbed her hands, forcing a laugh. “Your dad picked it up from town after work.”

“Oh? Must be making good money now.” Yun Chun continued, “Funny, I remember back when Mom was alive, meat only showed up at New Year’s.”

“Times change—life changes too.” Lu Zhi chuckled awkwardly and turned toward the kitchen. “When’d you get back? You must be starving. Auntie’ll grab you a bowl and chopsticks—sit and eat.”

“No need.” Yun Chun pulled out a chair and sat beside Lü Feng.

The man hadn’t said a word since she entered, just kept his head down, drinking.

A cold smirk tugged at Yun Chun’s lips as she casually plucked a peanut from the dish and popped it in her mouth. “Let’s cut to the chase.”

But first, she eyed the preteen kid at the table.

The girl was Lu Zhi’s daughter—Yun Chun had seen her twice before.

She snapped her fingers at the girl. “When I came in, I heard someone calling for you outside. Wanna go check?”

The girl stayed silent, glancing at Lu Zhi.

Guessing why Yun Chun had come, Lu Zhi seized the chance to send her daughter away. She tugged the girl to the door. “Go play with Xiao Jie at his place. Stay put till I come get you.”

The girl agreed and left.

Yun Chun’s gaze lingered on the door directly across from her—once her own room, now apparently the little girl’s. No ripples stirred in her heart; she’d long known that once Lu Zhi moved in, all traces of her life with her mom would be erased.

So she felt no attachment to this house.

Nor to the man she’d once called Dad.

Lü Feng took a swig of liquor and finally met Yun Chun’s eyes. “Qingming’s still a ways off. What’re you doing back now?”

“Can’t guess?”

Yun Chun’s gaze slowly roamed over the room’s furnishings. “That fridge and TV… brand new, not even a month old?”

Standing by the table, Lu Zhi smiled. “Yeah, your dad said the old ones were shot. Fridge wouldn’t cool, TV screen all fuzzy—time for new ones.”

Yun Chun arched a brow. “And that gold bracelet on your wrist doesn’t look cheap.”

Lu Zhi clutched her wrist, hiding her arm behind her back.

Yun Chun chuckled lightly. “Must’ve fetched a nice price.”

“Sold? Sold what?” Lu Zhi panicked, still clinging to the hope Yun Chun was clueless.

Yun Chun tossed another peanut into her mouth, done dancing around it. She glanced at Lü Feng, then the woman. “Selling my birth chart—who’s idea was that? Yours, or both?”

With the secret out, Lü Feng spoke bluntly. “Who told you? That busybody Yanping?”

“What’s Aunt Ping got to do with it? You did it, so someone’s bound to know. What—dare to do, but not own up?”

Lu Zhi shot a frantic look at Lü Feng.

He drained the last of his cup, the burn in his mouth matched by Yun Chun’s cool stare prodding him on. “My idea. So what?”

Cold intent flickered in Yun Chun’s eyes, her voice low and eerie. “Spill it then—how much did you get for my birth details?”

Lu Zhi pressed her lips tight; she’d been in on it too. Yun Chun’s question made it plain she knew.

Lü Feng’s face darkened, saying nothing.

Yun Chun waited, then suddenly smiled. “Say, it was my birth chart after all. You sell it, don’t I deserve a cut?”

At those words, the tension in Lü Feng’s face eased a fraction.

He had assumed Yun Chun’s return meant she was there to hold him accountable. Afraid she might kick up a fuss, Lü Feng had kept his mouth shut. Even though Yun Chun had cut ties with him, she was still his daughter, after all. He knew full well that selling her birth chart for a ghost marriage wasn’t a decent thing to do. For the past few months, he’d been living on tenterhooks, dreading what she might do to him once she found out. But now, hearing her bring up splitting the money, Lü Feng let out a sigh of relief. As long as she wasn’t back to make trouble, everything could be talked over.

If a bit of cash could smooth things over and put the whole mess behind them, Lü Feng figured that was acceptable.

He exchanged a glance with Lu Zhi and read the same sentiment in her eyes. “It didn’t fetch much,” Lü Feng said. “Just a few tens of thousands.”

He turned to Yun Chun. “How much do you want?”

“Not much.” Yun Chun smiled—a smile that never reached her eyes—and softly spoke two words: “All of it.”