Chapter 37: Chapters 37 and 38 Combined

"Finally, I can rest today." Hang Xiulan stretched languidly on her bed. "Comrades, what are your plans for today?"

"Going to the library."

"Same here."

"Me too."

...

"I'm planning to visit the museum." Xiong Zhaodi was sitting on the edge of her bed, putting on her shoes.

One person remained silent. Hang Xiulan leaned over the side of her bed and looked down. "Lin Yilan, what are you doing?"

Ever since the "romance rumor" involving Lin Yilan had spread through the school, Hang Xiulan always felt a twinge of guilt whenever she saw her. Although she had nothing to do with it, she couldn't shake the feeling that the rumor’s spread was somehow linked to her.

Lin Yilan, completely unaware of Hang Xiulan’s internal drama, had woken up early for her appointment and was currently preparing to leave.

"I have something to take care of."

"I probably won't be back until tonight. See you all later." With that, she slung her bag over her shoulder and left the dormitory.

The remaining seven people in Dorm 406 stared at Lin Yilan’s departing figure, looking at each other in silence.

"Busy, she's so busy."

"Truly the busiest person in our dorm."

"She’s working hard even on a Sunday; we shouldn't fall behind. I'm going to the library."

"Wait for me, I'm coming too."

Before long, only two people were left in the room. Hang Xiulan closed her mouth, losing even the urge to yawn. "What... what is all this?"

Xiong Zhaodi cast a calm glance at the only person still lying in bed. "I'm heading out too. Make sure to lock the door if you leave."

Just as Hang Xiulan was about to respond, she heard the door slam shut.

Good grief, she was the only one left in the room.

Impressive. This group was truly something else.

Forget it, she might as well go back to sleep.

But no sooner had she closed her eyes than the image of her roommates heading off to study without her filled her mind.

"Damn it, forget sleeping. I'm going to the library too."

She feared that even if she managed to fall asleep, she would wake up in a panic for not studying.

"Achoo!"

Lin Yilan, waiting at a traffic light, rubbed her nose while looking at the traffic police officer in front of her.

Who was talking about her?

*Tweet!* The whistle blew.

Lin Yilan watched the officer wave his small flag, quickly pushed the chaotic thoughts from her head, and pedaled her bicycle forward.

***

Cycling into a narrow alley, the sounds of daily life immediately surrounded her.

The clatter of pots and pans, the chatter of men, women, the elderly, and children, the rhythmic pumping of water, the splashing of basins, and the occasional ring of a bicycle bell.

Everything blended together to form the unique atmosphere of life in the alley.

After turning a few corners, Lin Yilan pulled a slip of paper from her messenger bag.

Confirming she was in the right place, she parked her bike to the side and knocked on the gate in front of her.

"Coming! Just a moment!"

"Hello?"

The woman at the door looked somewhat weary, yet she could not hide her refined temperament.

Lin Yilan guessed this must be Qin Qin, Zhao Qiangjun’s wife and a highly accomplished dancer in the cultural troupe.

Straightening her posture, she greeted her, "Hello, I am Lin Yilan."

Qin Qin immediately beamed, stepping forward warmly to take Lin Yilan’s hand. "I know, Father told us. Thank you for the trouble, Comrade Lin."

Lin Yilan was most uncomfortable with others being overly warm toward her. Yet, Qin Qin’s warmth felt incredibly gentle; her voice felt like a refreshing spring breeze, which only made Lin Yilan feel even more bashful.

"Comrade Qin, you are too kind." Still, she had to say what needed to be said. "Comrade Qin, I’m not sure if Uncle Zhao made it clear, but all I can do is provide some assistive tools for Brother Qiangjun. For him to truly recover his mindset, I’m afraid it will require effort from your family."

Qin Qin’s eyes reddened, and she nodded earnestly. "Father told me. Please don't worry, Comrade Lin. Just your willingness to come here is already a huge help to us."

She blinked, her tone tinged with slight regret. "Look at me, keeping you standing outside the door for so long. I’m so sorry, please come in, Comrade Lin."

Seeing Qin Qin reach for her bicycle, Lin Yilan quickly took the lead and wheeled it into the courtyard herself.

As she lifted the bike over the threshold of the gate, Lin Yilan furrowed her brow.

Once inside the small courtyard, her first impression was how beautiful it was.

It was clear that the owner had taken great care of the place. The lawn was neatly trimmed, some empty spaces were planted with flowers, while one corner was used for growing vegetables, giving it a very homey feel.

Thinking of the current condition of the house’s other master, Lin Yilan couldn't help but exclaim, "Comrade Qin, you’ve made your home look truly wonderful."

Qin Qin was clearly proud of this. "I love this courtyard very much," she said, her expression turning nostalgic as if remembering something. She turned to look at Lin Yilan. "By the way, Comrade Lin, just call me Sister Qin, like the girls in our troupe do. No need for 'Comrade Qin,' it feels so distant."

Lin Yilan nodded. "Alright, then you can just call me Little Lin."

Under Qin Qin's direction, Lin Yilan parked her bike in an empty spot.

*Thump—thump—* the sound of an object striking the ground echoed.

Before Lin Yilan could react, she saw Qin Qin turn and trot toward the house, supporting a man who was using a single crutch.

"Qiangjun, why did you come out?"

At the first sight of Zhao Qiangjun, aside from his missing leg, Lin Yilan could hardly believe that this man, who seemed to be nothing but skin and bones, was a soldier only a dozen years older than her.

However, once he looked up, Lin Yilan was certain that this man was undoubtedly a formidable soldier.

At the very least, the steely resolve in his eyes told her that Zhao Qiangjun still possessed a strong spirit. Compared to the ordinary people she had seen in her later life who had suffered accidental disabilities, he appeared much tougher.

"Comrade Zhao Qiangjun, I am Lin Yilan."

Lin Yilan stepped forward to greet him but did not reach out her hand.

Zhao Qiangjun forced what he thought was a warm smile. "Hello, Comrade Lin. I heard from my father that you were coming today. I'm sorry for the trouble. By the way, please convey my regards to Master Lin and your uncle."

Lin Yilan nodded, trying to ignore his somewhat pained smile. "It’s no trouble at all. I’m very happy to be able to do something for you, and besides, Uncle Zhao is paying me for my work."

After these words, all three fell silent.

Feeling that she couldn't let the silence drag on, Lin Yilan spoke up. "Comrade Zhao Qiangjun, would it be alright if I just called you by your name?"

Zhao Qiangjun nodded. "Then I will just call you Little Lin."

"Brother Qiangjun, I won't stand on ceremony either. I have a heavy workload today, so why don't we save some time and begin my work now?" Lin Yilan tapped her bag.

Zhao Qiangjun gave a soft grunt of agreement.

For the rest of the time, Lin Yilan followed her usual interior design measurement process, taking the necessary data while secretly observing how the two lived, especially Zhao Qiangjun.

"Qiangjun, what do you need?" Seeing Zhao Qiangjun move to stand, Qin Qin immediately rushed to his side to support him.

Lin Yilan noticed Zhao Qiangjun’s brow furrow slightly; his mouth moved as if to say something, but he closed it again. It seemed he wanted to speak but chose not to, instead yielding to Qin Qin’s assistance.

Lin Yilan witnessed this same scene three times while measuring the side rooms.

Furthermore, she noticed that for some reason, once Zhao Qiangjun sat down, he would often remain there for a very long time. He drank as little water as possible, and during lunch, he ate even less than Qin Qin, who appeared to be constantly maintaining her physique.

She recorded all these observations in her notebook, regardless of whether they were directly related to her design work, thinking they might come in handy.

By the time she had finished taking all the measurements and was preparing to leave, she specifically sought out Qin Qin.

"Sister Qin, may I ask you a rather personal question?"

Qin Qin’s smile stiffened for a second. "Go ahead."

Lin Yilan glanced toward the room where Zhao Qiangjun was sitting, and after confirming he couldn't hear them, she lowered her voice. "I wanted to ask, how does Brother Qiangjun manage his restroom needs?"

Qin Qin looked behind her in a panic, then nervously pulled Lin Yilan a few steps further into the yard.

"Actually, you’ve noticed, haven't you, Comrade Lin?"

Noticed what?

Lin Yilan was full of questions, but before she could ask, Qin Qin spoke.

"To avoid having to use the restroom, Qiangjun is controlling his food and water intake every day."

Qin Qin sighed, her face filled with melancholy. "He does this simply because he doesn't want to deal with using the restroom."

But she didn't explain to Lin Yilan why he felt that way; instead, she shifted the topic to the house.

"After Qiangjun was discharged due to his injury, his unit offered him a job, but he refused. Because of that, the unit allocated the housing originally intended for him to someone else. But that apartment was in a building, and there were only vacant rooms on the third floor. With his current leg, it’s certainly inconvenient to go up and down stairs, and I don't have the strength to carry him up three flights."

"His parents didn't think that apartment was suitable for Qiangjun either, so they found a way to sell it. With the proceeds, plus some of their own savings and contributions from Qiangjun’s siblings, they bought this courtyard."

"The courtyard is convenient in many ways, but it’s true that using the restroom isn't as convenient as in an apartment building. People here either go to the public restroom or keep a chamber pot at home."

Hearing this, although it was stated obliquely, Lin Yilan immediately guessed how Zhao Qiangjun was handling his physiological needs.

Qin Qin rubbed her temples, a weariness that couldn't be wiped away etched on her face. "Someone comes to collect the chamber pots every day, which I think is quite convenient, but Qiangjun doesn't see it that way."