Back to 1977
Lei Zhengde’s mother came home carrying a wailing baby in her arms.
The child was Lei Zhengde’s illegitimate son.
Lei Zhengde had been keeping a mistress. She was supposedly only twenty years old, a girl from the mountains, and she was the one who had given birth to the child.
Only then did Lin Wangshu discover that everyone in their social circle in Beijing already knew.
Everyone knew Lei Zhengde had a mistress.
She had been the last to find out.
It made Lin Wangshu feel as though the entire world was nothing more than a dream.
She had been deceived. Lied to.
It turned out the sky was not blue, and the eaves of a house were not necessarily there to shield you from wind and rain.
And Lei Zhengde was not really Lei Zhengde either.
At least, he was not the Lei Zhengde she had known.
When she was sixteen, she had been sent down to the countryside to work on a farm in Yunnan, and that was where she met Lei Zhengde.
For several years, they had supported each other through hardship. He pursued her passionately and eventually promised to spend the rest of his life with her.
When she was twenty-one, they returned to Beijing and registered their marriage.
A girl from a crowded communal courtyard marrying into a proper old courtyard residence—everyone said she had married above her station. From the outside, it looked glamorous, but there had been plenty of bitterness behind closed doors.
Over the years there had been her parents-in-law, her sister-in-law, and endless trouble within that large household.
What ability did she have to resist any of it?
Even her job had been arranged by the Lei family.
What could she possibly say?
She endured it all, day after day, believing that a good life was something people slowly built through patience and effort.
And in the end, what had she gotten?
Her mother-in-law, Shen Mingfang, held the baby out for her to see and smiled.
Although the child had been born outside the marriage, they would bring him home for Lin Wangshu to raise.
“You’re someone we’ve known inside and out all these years. Our Lei family has a conscience. Of course there will always be a place for you. From now on, this child will call you Mother. As for that woman outside, we’ll find a way to give her some money and send her off.”
When Shen Mingfang said those words, her tone held the benevolence of someone granting an enormous favour.
In fact, she seemed to expect Lin Wangshu to be overwhelmingly grateful.
She was already in her thirties and had never given birth to a child of her own.
Now she did not even have to go through childbirth—she could simply become a mother to a ready-made child. The Lei family was not even throwing her out.
To them, this was already tremendous kindness toward their daughter-in-law.
If word got out, even a cat scampering across the roof tiles would probably stop to praise the Lei family for their generosity and righteousness.
But Lin Wangshu did not want to endure it anymore.
She simply could not accept it.
So she began demanding a divorce.
The process of divorce was a numb, drawn-out form of torture. Whenever Lin Wangshu remembered those days, a sharp pain stabbed through her temples, pulling painfully at the area around her eyes until even sleep could not bring her peace.
But in truth, the pain came from regret.
Yes.
She regretted everything.
When she had first returned from Yunnan, had she not already vaguely sensed that something was wrong?
Had she not thought that Lei Zhengde was too frivolous by nature, too unreliable?
Had she not hesitated?
But she had been foolish then.
They had already been dating, she thought.
What else could she possibly do with her life?
So she married him.
She married into the Lei family, into that large old household where trouble never ended.
Her mother-in-law was proud and demanding.
Her sister-in-law was not exactly a bad person, but she was hardly easy to deal with either.
And so Lin Wangshu endured it, one day after another.
There had been times when she thought about simply getting divorced.
She could not take it anymore.
There was no way to continue living like that.
But Lei Zhengde knew how to coax her.
He always knew exactly what to say.
“Wife” this, “wife” that.
He promised he would protect her for the rest of his life, then brought up all the memories they had shared in Yunnan.
And she would hesitate.
Then she would forgive him.
Later, when they remained childless for years, they went to the hospital for examinations. Neither of them had any physical problems.
That made her hesitate again.
Maybe they should just divorce, she thought.
The Lei family was a prestigious household, after all. They still wanted someone to carry on the family bloodline.
But Lei Zhengde cried.
He knelt in front of her, sobbing as he told her children did not matter.
He only wanted her.
For the rest of his life, he would only ever want her.
She cried too.
They held each other and cried.
And in the end, they still did not divorce.
So the years dragged on.
By the time Lin Wangshu was in her early thirties and no longer young, Lei Zhengde suddenly brought a child home.
She wanted to leave.
But then Lei Zhengde refused to let go of her.
She could not understand it.
She only wanted to leave.
You went and found another woman and had a child with her.
Why can’t you just let me go?
A loud *clack-clack, clack-clack* sounded beside her ears, but Lin Wangshu did not want to open her eyes.
Her drifting thoughts had wandered even further into the past.
She remembered what her original dream had once been.
When she first returned to the city, she had wanted to take the university entrance examination.
She was not exceptionally intelligent, but she was not stupid either.
Picking up her textbooks again would not have been difficult.
But she married.
Once she became someone’s wife, she had to come home after work and simmer soup in the kitchen for the family.
And since she had been assigned such a good position as an administrative staff member at Peking University, she eventually abandoned the idea.
How could she admit it?
Later, when she saw those brilliant students at Peking University and Tsinghua University, the favoured children of heaven, she envied them deeply.
She was not much older than they were, yet they had to address her as “Teacher Lin.”
Sometimes she secretly slipped into classrooms and listened to lectures given by renowned scholars.
She would become completely absorbed.
Whenever she had spare time, she would also pick up books and read.
But none of that could compare to those who were formally studying.
She had no proper academic credentials.
For the rest of her life, she was nothing more than an administrative employee.
Between her and the professors who actually taught classes was a vast gulf, one she could never cross.
Because of that, she actually disliked it when people praised her for being smart.
To her, it sounded almost like mockery.
As though they were saying:
So what if you’re intelligent?
All you do is register information and handle trivial administrative work. Then you go home and wash your hands before cooking soup for your parents-in-law.
At that moment, the clattering around her grew louder.
Along with it came a buzzing hum, like countless bees droning beside her ears.
Lin Wangshu frowned and finally opened her eyes.
At first, her vision was blurry.
It was a world covered in white mist.
Gradually, her eyes focused, and everything before her became clear.
Two smiling young women were sitting in front of her.
Their black braids gleamed with oil, the ends resting over their shoulders, and their faces held simple, innocent smiles.
They were wearing—
green military uniforms.
They looked astonishingly similar to how she herself had looked around the age of twenty.
Lin Wangshu stared blankly.
She turned to look around.
Only then did she realise—
she was on a train.
An old-fashioned train filled with the unmistakable atmosphere of another era.
A green-painted train carriage with hard seats.
The entire carriage was packed with people.
Even the aisle was filled with passengers, many of them hugging their luggage as they leaned against the seats and dozed.
Most striking of all were their clothes.
Blue.
Grey.
Green.
The entire carriage was a world of muted colours, saturated with the atmosphere of that long-gone era.
Lin Wangshu looked around in confusion as countless thoughts rushed through her mind.
“Sis, you’re awake?”
One of the girls smiled as she spoke.
Even the cadence of her voice carried a distinctive old-fashioned simplicity.
“Where are we?” Lin Wangshu asked.
She had no idea what was going on, but she kept her expression calm.
The girl smiled and glanced at the watch on her wrist.
“It’s already eight in the morning. They said we’ll arrive in Beijing around nine, so we should be almost there.”
Lin Wangshu pressed her lips together.
“Comrade, where are you from—”
She had only been trying to probe for information without making it obvious.
But halfway through her sentence, she suddenly noticed something.
Her voice.
Yes.
Her voice sounded completely different from what she was used to.
Instead, it had the soft, sweet clarity of a young girl.
Lin Wangshu froze.
Then, stiffly, she lowered her head and looked at herself.
She was wearing a green military uniform.
The sort of green military uniform later generations would consider terribly unfashionable.
This was exactly how she had dressed back when she worked on the farm in Yunnan.
After returning to Beijing, Lei Zhengde had said the clothes looked too rustic and taken her to Wangfujing to buy several nicer outfits.
She had never worn these clothes again after that.
The blood in Lin Wangshu’s body seemed to turn cold.
Still, she remained outwardly composed.
She raised one arm, pulled up her sleeve, and examined her wrist.
Years ago, while trying to take good care of Lei Zhengde’s mother, she had prepared chicken soup for her and carried it over personally.
But when Shen Mingfang reached out, the soup spilled.
Lin Wangshu had been scalded.
It left a scar.
Now, after pushing up her sleeve, all she saw was smooth, pale skin.
There was not the slightest trace of a scar.
Her heart began pounding wildly.
Yet she still kept her expression under control.
She raised her head and looked at the girl opposite her.
After thinking for a moment, she casually said,
“I wonder how Xuanwu Hongqi Middle School is doing these days.”
Now that she had a theory, she needed to verify it.
Lin Wangshu had a good memory.
Back when she and Lei Zhengde returned to Beijing, they had met a young educated youth from Xuanwu Hongqi Middle School on the train.
The girl had been in the same year as Lin Wangshu, though not in the same class.
The situation was far too strange, so Lin Wangshu did not dare say anything directly.
She deliberately mentioned the school as a test.
If her guess was correct, the girl would respond naturally.
If she was wrong, the girl would merely assume she was muttering to herself and would not become suspicious.
Sure enough, the girl’s eyes immediately lit up.
“Who knows? It was such a mess when we left. Classes have already resumed now, but I wonder if all our teachers are still there. I remember Teacher Hu from your Class C even taught our class a few times…”
As Lin Wangshu listened, all her remaining doubts vanished.
It was true.
It was really true.
She had returned twelve years into the past.
To the spring of 1977.
To the train carrying her and Lei Zhengde back to Beijing.
Lin Wangshu clenched her trembling hands and looked around the carriage.
Like Enyou Temple, destroyed during the invasion of the Eight-Nation Alliance and forever impossible to restore to what it had once been—
this train carriage, these dusty shades of blue and green, these glossy black braids—
all of it belonged to a youth she had believed she could never return to.
To choices she had believed could never be undone.
Did she regret her life?
How could she possibly not regret it?
But what use was regret?
Now—
she was back.
This was not a dream.
Dreams did not have colours this vivid and bright.
Nor did they carry the peculiar smell of a green train after travelling for a day and two nights.
Everything was so clear.
So alive.
She had truly returned to 1977.
Lin Wangshu quickly searched through her memories.
At this point, she and Lei Zhengde had not officially registered their marriage yet.
The national college entrance examination had not yet been reinstated.
There was still time.
Everything could still be changed.
She would take the college entrance examination.
She would get into Peking University or Tsinghua University.
She would walk through a university campus.
She would enjoy the joy of being young to the fullest.
She would become one of those brilliant students everyone admired.
Marriage?
Serving her parents-in-law?
Serving her sister-in-law?
What did the rules of your grand old household have to do with me?
In this life, I’m not serving any of you!
Yes, she had dated Lei Zhengde.
So what?
In the future, social customs would become far more open.
People would date and break up as they pleased.
Who would care?
She must have had water in her brain!
Feudal thinking must have rotted her mind!
Only then would she have stubbornly believed that since she had chosen someone once, she had to stay with him forever.
Only then would she have insisted on marrying Lei Zhengde!
Plenty of people divorced after returning to the city nowadays.
She had not even married him yet.
They had not even slept together.
What was there to care about?
So what if he had hugged and kissed her a few times?
She would just treat it as being mauled by a dog!
It was as though a frozen stream had suddenly thawed.
In an instant, Lin Wangshu understood everything.
Never in her life had her thoughts been as clear as they were now.
Where should a person realise the value of their life?
Where should the dreams of youth be allowed to bloom?
Lin Wangshu bit her lip.
She was so excited that her tightly clenched hands were trembling.
Just then, a voice suddenly came from nearby.
“Wangshu, you’re awake?”
Lin Wangshu looked over in surprise.
And there she saw Lei Zhengde.
Lei Zhengde at twenty-three years old.
Although years of labour in the countryside had roughened his face somewhat, he still looked far younger and greener than the man in his thirties she remembered.
When he saw Lin Wangshu, he broke into a grin.
“What happened to you? You slept until your face looks like a little tabby cat! Hahaha!”
His laughter was hearty and infectious.
Several passengers nearby turned to look.
When they saw Lin Wangshu’s appearance, they laughed too, openly glancing at her while they did.
Lin Wangshu was beautiful.
She was the kind of girl who, even in a train carriage packed with men and women, would immediately catch your eye.
You could not help looking at her a little longer.
Then you would secretly marvel at her beauty—
and after marvelling, you could not resist sneaking another glance.
At that moment, however, alarming red marks marred her delicate jade-like skin from where she had slept against something.
Several fine strands of hair were stuck against her cheek.
Her slightly messy black hair framed an alluring, vibrant face.
She looked enchanting—
and somewhat ridiculous.
Lin Wangshu did not laugh.
She merely pressed her lips together and said to Lei Zhengde,
“Give me the mirror.”
Lei Zhengde pulled out a mirror and handed it to her.
While doing so, he casually pinched her cheek.
“You really do look like a little cat.”
Lin Wangshu ignored him.
She had no interest in dealing with Lei Zhengde right now.
The real reason she had asked for the mirror was because she wanted to see her own face.
She took a deep breath and solemnly looked into the mirror.
The face reflected back at her was both familiar and unfamiliar.
Twenty-one years old.
Radiant with youth.
Bright and beautiful.
A face so lovely it was difficult to look away from.
Lin Wangshu smiled.
When she smiled like that, Lei Zhengde finally sensed something was strange.
But at that moment, the educated-youth girl sitting nearby asked him where he had gotten hot water.
Lei Zhengde immediately told her.
Enthusiastically.
He even helped move some luggage aside so the girl could pass.
Lin Wangshu, having already settled her emotions, watched coldly as Lei Zhengde chatted with the girl.
She thought,
He was always like this.
Kind to everyone.
Especially to girls.
He rarely knew how to refuse anyone.
When they were young, she had gotten jealous and fought with him about it.
Later, she simply grew used to it.
At one point, she had even wondered whether Lei Zhengde had taken that young mistress because he pitied the poor girl.
The moment that thought occurred to her, she wanted to slap herself.
Making excuses for him?
Have I not suffered enough already?
Lei Zhengde helped the girl through several sections of the carriage before finally struggling his way back.
When he sat down, he wiped the sweat from his forehead.
“Wangshu, you don’t seem very happy. What’s wrong?”
Lin Wangshu studied this slightly immature version of Lei Zhengde for a long time.
So long that he became confused.
“Wangshu? What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?”
As he spoke, he reached out to touch her forehead.
Lin Wangshu moved away.
“Your hands are dirty. Don’t touch me.”
Lei Zhengde raised his brows innocently.
“They’re not dirty. They’re just a little sweaty.”
Lin Wangshu said, “That’s still dirty.”
Lei Zhengde paused.
“All right.”
He looked slightly aggrieved, almost childishly so.
That kind of expression on a man always made people soften toward him.
But Lin Wangshu felt absolutely nothing now.
The sound of an infant crying in the middle of the night inside that courtyard residence had been enough to destroy whatever tenderness she once had.
Compared to that, Lei Zhengde acting cute only looked childish and ridiculous.
Seeing that Lin Wangshu continued ignoring him, Lei Zhengde leaned closer and began teasing her with his usual shameless grin.
Lin Wangshu merely said calmly,
“We’re almost in Beijing.”
Lei Zhengde nodded.
“Yeah. Almost there. We’ll be pulling into the station soon.”
By then, the passengers in the carriage were gradually waking up.
Some rummaged through military canvas bags for food.
Some carried enamel mugs away to brush their teeth.
Others hurried toward the toilet.
After so long crammed together in the train carriage, everyone had more or less marinated in the same stale smell.
Lin Wangshu could smell herself as well.
But there was nothing she could do about it.
She would simply have to endure.
It was 1977.
Conditions could hardly compare to those of later decades.
Lei Zhengde leaned toward her again.
“About us… my mother might still have some objections. I’ve been writing letters trying to persuade her.”
Hearing this, Lin Wangshu laughed inwardly.
After being given another life, she still had to face this same awkward situation.
He had always been like this.
Seemingly considerate, yet never truly thinking about what position she was being put in.
But whatever.
Who cared?
He could go play by himself.
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