Feng Mingshu guessed correctly; the water ladle was indeed taken away by Pi Dapeng. He was almost hit on the head and was in excruciating pain, but he knew this wasn't his territory, so he gritted his teeth, carried his broken bicycle, and slipped away.

Before leaving, however, he remembered the crooked tree and the Li family's door.

Afterwards, he carried the bicycle, stumbling along the way, until almost dawn before finally arriving home. Exhausted, with a throbbing pain in his forehead, Pi Dapeng felt a surge of hatred for the water ladle and carelessly tossed it into the latrine.

Pi's father got up early in the morning and found that his bicycle, which he had only bought two months ago, was broken. When he learned that Pi Dapeng was responsible, he turned around, grabbed Pi Dapeng who had just fallen asleep, and started cursing and beating him.

Pi Dapeng, with his forehead wound exposed to the cold wind all night, was dizzy and had no strength to resist. He was beaten until he collapsed to the ground. It was Pi's mother who noticed something was wrong and ran to stop her husband, only then realizing that her son was delirious with fever.

Pi's mother wanted to take her son to the hospital, but Pi's father spat and said, "How dare this scoundrel go to the hospital? Let him burn to death, so he won't bring trouble to the family!"

Cursing, Pi Fu fastened his belt, grabbed two steamed buns, and hurried to the sand field where he worked. Without a bicycle, it would take him an extra half hour on the road.

Pi's mother was a housewife. She had no money and was afraid that her son would get a high fever, so she had to ask her neighbor for a packet of fever-reducing powder that cost two cents and force-feed it to him.

Feng Mingshu was unaware of the Pi family's affairs. If he had known, he would surely have said, "What goes around comes around, that's good."

She spent the next few days in peace, as no one came to see her anymore. It seemed that her letter had completely put an end to Zhou Jinshan's feelings for her, which was good for both of them.

She stayed at home and taught her younger sister to draw, and led her younger brother to build car and cannon models out of wooden blocks. A bunch of neighborhood kids chattered around them, and life was pleasant and lively.

At the hospital.

It took Zhou Jinshan two days to write the marriage application. He revised it countless times and copied it countless times. The application, which was less than 300 words long, took more effort than Zhai Qingping's 3,000-word self-criticism.

It was quite a coincidence that the two bumped into each other outside the political commissar's office.

Zhai Qingping was somewhat surprised to see him: "Old Zhou, you've been discharged from the hospital. Are you all healed?"

Zhou Jinshan glanced at the stack of self-criticisms in the other person's hand and a slight smile appeared on his lips: "It's not considered a discharge, just a transfer to our college's infirmary."

Zhai Qingping disagreed, saying, "The conditions at our college's clinic are much worse than those at Bincheng Hospital. Why are you in such a hurry to transfer back?"

"Something came up, so I transferred it," Zhou Jinshan replied casually.

"What are you two dawdling about outside my office? Come in right now."

At that moment, Political Commissar Lin's voice came from the office.

The two immediately straightened their clothes and simultaneously reached out to push the door open, trying to stop at the same time.

Zhai Qingping raised an eyebrow and gestured for him to go first: "Old Zhou, you're a patient, please go first."

Zhou Jinshan didn't stand on ceremony. He nodded to him, then strode in, saluted Political Commissar Lin, solemnly opened the brown paper bag, took out the marriage application, and handed it over.

Political Commissar Lin took a look and laughed: "You've been delaying this marriage application for two days. I thought you weren't going to submit it."

Zhou Jinshan looked embarrassed: "I'm not very well-educated, and my handwriting is not good either. I crammed for the last two days before I dared to submit this for the political commissar to review. If you think there's anything wrong with it, please tell me and I'll revise it as many times as I want."