Lin Wanqiu woke up at the first crow of the rooster. A layer of bluish-gray mist still shrouded the outside of the window, and the water vat in the kitchen gleamed coldly. She touched the copper whistle beside her pillow, and the icy touch made the memories of last night even clearer—the man who called himself "Brother Shen" had features that overlapped with Shen Tingzhou in the original owner's memories, but his deliberately lowered voice and evasive eyes were like a thorn stuck in her heart, impossible to remove.
"Mother, you're awake?" Shen Nian'an rubbed her eyes as she came out of the inner room, her jacket collar askew and a tuft of hair sticking up. She had been well-nourished lately and looked much better; even her voice was clearer than before. "I think I just heard a rooster crow. Should we make breakfast?"
Lin Wanqiu tucked the copper whistle under her pillow, reached out to straighten her son's collar, and felt a sense of relief as her fingertips touched his warm neck. "Wait a little longer, it's not fully light yet. Let me check the fire in the stove." She got up and walked towards the kitchen, pausing as she passed the woodshed—Shen Tingzhou had hidden there last night, and a few broken pieces of firewood remained on the ground, as if reminding her that the man was not a hallucination.
She added firewood to the stove, the flames crackling and licking the bottom of the pot. Lin Wanqiu stared blankly at the flickering firelight. She wasn't the original owner of this body; she had no lingering attachment to her "deceased husband," only wariness of strangers. Shen Tingzhou claimed to be there to protect her and her child, but he didn't even dare reveal his true identity. Why should she believe him? What if he was after the space? After all, this jade pendant was a family heirloom of the Shen family; he might already know the secret of the space.
"Mom, let me help you start the fire!" Shen Nian'an carried a small stool over and grabbed a thin piece of firewood to put into the stove. She accidentally got soot all over her face, looking like a little kitten that had just crawled out of a coal pile.
Lin Wanqiu was amused by her son and reached out to wipe the ash off his face: "Slow down, don't burn yourself. By the way, Nian'an, that Brother Shen from yesterday, do you think he seems like a good person?" She wanted to hear her child's intuition—children are simple-minded and often notice details that adults overlook.
Shen Nian'an tilted his head and thought for a moment, his little brows furrowing into a small knot: "I don't know, but... the way he looked at me was different from how he looked at Grandma and Auntie. It wasn't scary." He paused and then added, "And he spoke in a low voice, like the sound of the wind I heard on the mountain last time. It wasn't noisy."
Lin Wanqiu's heart skipped a beat. Nian An was telling the truth; Shen Tingzhou hadn't shown any malice yesterday, and even deliberately lowered his breathing when Zhao Jianjun barged in, afraid of being discovered. But the more he did that, the more uneasy she felt—a seemingly perfect "defense" often concealed a deeper purpose.
After breakfast, Lin Wanqiu entrusted Nian'an to Aunt Wang next door, saying she was going to dig some wild vegetables in the back mountain. Aunt Wang agreed and stuffed a coarse cloth bag into her hand: "Wanqiu, if you run into that rascal Zhao Jianjun, run to my house right away. My husband just got his militia red armband from the commune yesterday, he won't dare to do anything reckless!"
"Thank you, Aunt Wang, I understand." Lin Wanqiu took the cloth bag, feeling warm inside. Although there were troublesome people like Old Lady Shen and Zhao Jianjun in this village, there were also kind-hearted people like Aunt Wang and Grandma Li, who added a little sweetness to these hard days.
After leaving the village, Lin Wanqiu didn't head towards the back mountain. Instead, she went around to the west end of the village—Shen Tingzhou said he lived in the old courtyard left by his grandfather, and she wanted to see what this "Brother Shen" was up to.
The old courtyard at the west end of the village was indeed remote. Most of the courtyard wall had collapsed, and waist-high weeds grew at the entrance. Only a dilapidated wooden door still stood, and the "Shen Mansion" plaque above the door was long faded and creaked in the wind. Lin Wanqiu hid in an old locust tree not far away and looked inside through the crack in the door—the courtyard was very clean, the weeds had been cleared away, and several freshly washed dark blue work clothes were drying on the ground, the very ones Shen Tingzhou had worn yesterday.
It seems he really does live here. Lin Wanqiu was pondering this when she saw Shen Tingzhou come out of the house, carrying an old canvas bag, and hurrying towards the edge of the village. He wasn't wearing a hat, and the morning light shone on his head, revealing a few strands of prematurely gray hair—the original owner's memories of Shen Tingzhou showed him to be only in his twenties; how could he have gray hair? Had he really suffered a lot these past years?
Lin Wanqiu followed quietly behind. Shen Tingzhou walked quickly, choosing secluded paths and heading straight towards the commune. When he reached the commune entrance, he stopped under a large poplar tree, took an envelope from his canvas bag, and handed it to a man in a Zhongshan suit. The man took the envelope, whispered a few words to him, then gave him a small paper packet before hurrying into the commune building.
Lin Wanqiu's heart leaped into her throat—she had seen that man in the Zhongshan suit once before; he was the commune secretary's secretary! How could Shen Tingzhou know the commune secretary's secretary? What was their relationship? Could his "secret mission" be related to the commune?
After the man in the Zhongshan suit walked away, Shen Tingzhou stuffed the small paper package into his pocket and turned to walk back. Lin Wanqiu quickly hid in the corner of the supply and marketing cooperative next door, watching his figure disappear at the end of the path, her doubts growing stronger. This Shen Tingzhou was definitely not just a "veteran"; he had contact with people in the commune and was secretly passing things between them—there was definitely something fishy going on.
Back in the village, Lin Wanqiu didn't go straight home, but instead went to Grandma Li's house. Grandma Li was an elderly woman in the village who knew a lot about the Shen family's past; perhaps she could get some useful information out of her.
"Wanqiu, what brings you here? Didn't Nian'an come with you?" Grandma Li was sitting in the yard sewing shoe soles. When she saw Wanqiu come in, she quickly put down her needlework and called into the house, "Yadan, quickly pour Wanqiu a bowl of water!"
"Grandma, I've come to ask you about something." Lin Wanqiu took the water Ya Dan handed her and got straight to the point. "Do you know the old courtyard that Shen Tingzhou's grandfather left behind? Yesterday, a man who claimed to be Shen Tingzhou's friend said he lived there. Do you know him?"
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