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◎The King of Scrolls, Day Forty◎

Officer Wang, hands on hips and panting, said, "The team hasn't received any applications."

He hid behind Jiang Renzhou, saying, "Commander Jiang, you must uphold justice!"

As more and more people gathered around, Zhao Xiulan stood at the front, arms crossed, and sneered: "I told you he came sneaking around, didn't I? And all that talk about proposing marriage? I think he's here to kidnap someone!"

"Shut up!" Jiang Wanzhou suddenly spoke, her voice not loud, but with a hint of ruthlessness.

She took a step forward, blocking Zhou Qingyu's path. "I sent him. If you have a problem, just say it to me!"

Zhou Qingyu grabbed her wrist; the heat of his palm made her tremble.

"Wanzhou, don't argue with them."

Jiang Renzhou looked around, and the murmurs of the crowd surged over, surrounding the group.

"Everyone disperse! What's there to see?" he roared, his face under his military cap as black as the bottom of a pot. "Officer Wang, send him to my house first. The leadership knows about the application!"

Wang, the clerk, wanted to say something, but Jiang Renzhou glared at him, and he swallowed his words.

Zhao Xiulan pursed her lips, spat on the ground, turned around and squeezed into the crowd, muttering "no manners" under her breath.

On the way home, no one spoke; only the sand crunched underfoot.

Zhou Qingyu followed half a step behind Jiang Wanzhou.

Upon entering the courtyard, Shen Xinglian was standing under the porch picking vegetables. Seeing Zhou Qingyu, the green beans in her hand fell "thud" into the basket. "You...you really came?"

"Comrade Shen, I apologize for disturbing you." Zhou Qingyu's ears turned slightly red. "I'm here to keep my promise."

Mingyuan ran out of the house and saw Zhou Qingyu. His eyes lit up like two stars: "Brother Zhou! Did you bring sugar figurines?"

Zhou Qingyu reached into her pocket and pulled out a sugar figurine wrapped in cellophane; it was a grinning doll: "Here you go."

Mingyuan ran off with the sugar figurine in his hand. Shen Xinglian glanced at the kitchen and said, "You all sit down first, I'll go boil some water."

As she passed by Jiang Wanzhou, she quietly squeezed her hand, a smile in her eyes.

Jiang Renzhou's voice was harsh: "What exactly does your family mean? You've been dragging your feet on the application, making you come here so secretly. Are you taking advantage of the Jiang family's lack of talent?"

“No.” Zhou Qingyu sat up straight. “I came here on a mission.”

“I know Comrade Jiang is worried about Wanzhou.” Zhou Qingyu interrupted her, moving closer to Jiang Renzhou. “I promise I will treat Wanzhou well for the rest of my life and will not let her suffer the slightest grievance. If I can’t do that, Comrade Jiang doesn’t need to lift a finger; I’ll just go back to Beijing myself.”

Jiang Renzhou didn't speak, but poured some wine into the bowl in front of him, the liquid sloshing around like a pile of broken silver.

"drink wine."

Zhou Qingyu picked up the bowl, tilted his head back, and drank it all in one gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing violently.

"Thank you, Brother Jiang."

Shen Xinglian brought in the dishes, smiling as she tried to smooth things over: "Don't just drink, eat some food. This sea fish was just caught this morning, it's very fresh."

After Zhou Qingyu and Jiang Renzhou left the dinner table, Shen Xinglian slipped a candy into Jiang Wanzhou's hand: "See, I told you it would be alright."

Jiang Wanzhou peeled the candy wrapper, her fingertips trembling slightly: "Sister-in-law, do you think the application is really possible?"

“Yes, he will.” Shen Xinglian looked out the window. “Since he dared to come, he must be confident.”

She patted Jiang Wanzhou's hand and said, "Go and put on that new blue cotton jacket. Don't always wear this old one; it makes us look like we don't care about you."

Jiang Wanzhou changed into her new jacket and stood in front of the mirror to look at herself.

The fabric is crisp and the stitches are fine; it was sewn by her stitch by stitch.

The girl in the mirror had rosy cheeks.

—

Jiang Wanzhou squatted in front of the stove and tended the fire.

"The water's boiling." Shen Xinglian came in carrying a basin filled with kneaded dough.

“Zhou Zhiqing loves scallion pancakes, so let’s make some for him this morning.” She added a piece of firewood to the stove, and the flames leaped higher. “Your brother and the others didn’t come back last night, but they should be back soon.”

Jiang Wanzhou poured oil into the pot, and oil splattered up.

"Xingxing, isn't that watch in the betrothal gifts too expensive?" She felt uneasy, as if she had a hot potato in her hand.

"What's so valuable about it?" Shen Xinglian rolled the dough into a thin pancake, sprinkled chopped green onions on top, and the aroma instantly filled the air. "It's their sincerity, just accept it."

She flipped the pancake over with a spatula. "Besides, you deserve it."

Just then, footsteps came from the courtyard gate, and Zhou Qingyu walked in carrying a cloth bag.

"Good morning." He saw Jiang Wanzhou and his eyes lit up. "What are you making? It smells so good."

"Scallion pancakes." Jiang Wanzhou ladled a bowl of porridge into his bowl, the surface of which was covered with a layer of rice oil. "Sit down quickly, this is freshly cooked millet porridge."

Zhou Qingyu sat on the stone bench, her gaze constantly drifting towards Jiang Wanzhou's hands.

Jiang Wanzhou's face flushed slightly, and she put a scallion pancake into his bowl. "Eat quickly, it's still warm."

Zhou Qingyu took a bite of the pancake, her eyes curving into crescents: "It tastes even better than my mom's."

He pulled a small notebook out of his cloth bag. "By the way, Wanzhou, when would you like to have the wedding?"

Jiang Wanzhou paused, the bowl of porridge wobbling in her hand, almost spilling.

"I'll listen to you."

"Listen to me?" Zhou Qingyu put down her chopsticks, moved closer to her, and said in a very soft voice, "Then I want to do it as soon as possible, preferably this month."

Shen Xinglian laughed: "You're in such a hurry."

She looked outside the courtyard and said, "Your brother is back."

Jiang Renzhou walked in, but his expression was not good, and the application in his hand was crumpled.

"The application has been approved."

He slammed the application on the table, his voice curt, “But the team said that Qingyu’s household registration hasn’t been transferred yet, so the wedding can only be held after the household registration is settled.”

Zhou Qingyu's smile froze on her face, and the chopsticks in her hand clattered onto the table.

"Household registration? My dad said he'd help me with that, why isn't it done yet?"

"Who knows?" Jiang Renzhou poured some porridge into his bowl, not in the mood to drink it. "The team said that without a household registration, you can't hold a wedding on the island. That's the rule."

Shen Xinglian put a piece of cake into Jiang Renzhou's bowl: "Don't rush, wait a little longer. Since Qingyu's father said he would take care of it, there will definitely be news."

Jiang Wanzhou didn't speak, but lowered her head and drank her porridge. The sweetness of the porridge tasted different in her mouth, as if it had been mixed with a bit of bitterness.

She recalled Zhao Xiulan's earlier words, and her heart suddenly felt heavy.

Will something really go wrong?

In the afternoon, Jiang Wanzhou went to help out at the cafeteria, where the head chef was stacking steamed buns into the steamer.

"I heard the application was approved?" He tapped the edge of the pot with a spatula. "When are you having the wedding banquet?"

"The household registration hasn't been transferred yet." Jiang Wanzhou poured flour onto the work surface, her fingertips trembling slightly. "The team said that it can't be done without a household registration."

The head chef added firewood to the stove and remained silent for a while: "Zhao Xiulan came to get food just now and told Liu Guixiang that Qingyu's household registration cannot be processed because his father never agreed to the marriage. What he said before was all a lie to you."

Jiang Wanzhou's hand suddenly stopped, and the dough fell onto the work surface with a "thud".

"She's talking nonsense!"

"You know in your heart whether you're talking nonsense or not." The head chef stuffed a hot steamed bun into her hand. "Don't panic."

Jiang Wanzhou held the steamed bun in her hand as she walked home.

Just as they reached the courtyard gate, they heard Zhao Xiulan's voice, tinged with smugness: "...I told you he was lying to you, didn't I? How could someone from Beijing really marry a country girl? That household registration was just a facade!"

"Shut up!" Zhou Qingyu's voice was filled with anger.

Jiang Wanzhou pushed open the door and saw Zhao Xiulan standing in the yard, holding an empty basket in her hand. Zhou Qingyu was standing opposite her, her face flushed red.

"Sister-in-law Zhao, if you have nothing else to do, please go back." She moved closer to Zhou Qingyu, as if to support him.

Zhao Xiulan pursed her lips: "I'm just kindly reminding you, so you don't end up making a fool of yourselves by canceling the wedding."

She turned to leave, but turned back at the courtyard gate. "By the way, I heard the team is sending Commander Jiang to carry out a mission off the island. If Qingyu's household registration isn't sorted out properly, Wanzhou, you'll be a widow waiting to be married!"

"Say that again!" Jiang Renzhou came out of the house, his face as black as the bottom of a pot. "Zhao Xiulan, if you dare to talk nonsense again, I'll report you to the leaders!"

"Your husband's future is his own business; you're welcome to try it if you don't want it."

Zhao Xiulan shuddered in fright, grabbed her basket and ran away, her footsteps crunching on the sand.

The courtyard fell silent; no one spoke.

Jiang Wanzhou looked at Zhou Qingyu, her voice trembling slightly: "Big brother, are you really going to carry out a mission outside the island?"

Jiang Renzhou sighed and sat down on the stone bench: "I was just notified. I'm leaving the day after tomorrow, and it'll be a long trip."

He looked at Zhou Qingyu and said, "Qingyu, I'm entrusting my sister to you. You must take good care of her."

“I will.” Zhou Qingyu grasped Jiang Wanzhou’s hand, the warmth of her palm making her tremble. “Wanzhou, don’t believe Zhao Xiulan. The household registration issue will definitely be resolved. When your brother comes back, we’ll have a wedding banquet.”

Jiang Wanzhou nodded, but she was still flustered inside.

She knew Zhou Qingyu wouldn't lie to her, but Zhao Xiulan's words were like a thorn stuck in her heart, impossible to remove.

At night, Jiang Wanzhou lay on the kang (a heated brick bed) and had a dream in which Zhou Qingyu kept arguing with his father.

She felt a tightness in her chest, as if something was blocking her heart.

Jiang Wanzhou shrank further under the covers. The sound of the tide outside the window was faster than usual, as if urging something on.

—

"Slow down your scrubbing, you're almost tearing the clothes."

Shen Xinglian came out carrying a wooden basin containing Mingyuan's jacket. "Qingyu went to the dock to make a phone call, why isn't she back yet?"

Jiang Wanzhou twisted her clothes into a pretzel shape, water dripping from between her fingers: "They said they were going to inquire about household registration, it should be soon."

She looked out of the courtyard; the road ended empty, and she felt a void in her heart, as if something was missing.

Just then, Mingyuan ran in holding a paper airplane with crooked red double happiness symbols drawn on its wings.

"Auntie! Brother Zhou taught me how to draw this! He said he'd hang lots and lots of red double happiness symbols when you get married!"

Jiang Wanzhou took the paper airplane, her fingertips tracing the paint on it. Just as she was about to smile, she saw Zhou Qingyu come in from outside the courtyard, her face as white as a sheet, her canvas bag clenched tightly in her hand.

"Qingyu, what's wrong?" Shen Xinglian sensed something was wrong first and moved closer to him. "It's about the household registration..."

Zhou Qingyu didn't speak. She sat down on the stone bench, her head bowed low, her hair falling down and obscuring her eyes.