The wind carried the scent of rice paddies, waves of golden grain rippling like ocean swells. Bare-chested men with rolled-up pant legs stood in the fields, harvesting the fruits of half a year’s labor.
Suddenly, a small figure darted across the ridge—legs churning fast as he shouted: “Uncle Lin! Uncle Lin!”
His loud voice carried across the fields, and more than a few people looked up toward him.
Before long, a man emerged from the sea of golden rice stalks, pushing aside the dense layers of grain. Sweat beaded across his sun-darkened face. Squinting against the glaring sunlight, he called back: “What’s the matter?”
The boy, finally having found his man, slid down the man-high embankment: “Your son-in-law’s here!”
“Tiger, have you lost your mind? Since when does Uncle Lin have a son-in-law?”
“Haha, exactly—don’t talk nonsense. Get home and help your grandma chop firewood. Stop running around all day, or your dad’ll give you a hiding when he gets back.”
Before Lin Jianzhi could respond, teasing voices came from the neighboring fields. He laughed along—it must be Tiger up to his usual tricks again. He only had one daughter, and she was working at her aunt’s place. Where could she have found him a son-in-law?
He wiped the sweat from his brow with the towel around his neck. He wondered how Wenhua and the others were doing. By rights, they should have been back by now—why hadn’t he heard anything?
“I’m not lying! Look—that big brother gave me this candy. Said it’s called ‘chocolate.’ Aiyun-jie and Auntie are there too—they sent me to call Uncle Lin back.” Tiger was indignant, his mouth pouting so hard it could hang a soy sauce jar. He opened his palm to reveal the chocolate he’d been clutching the whole way.
The packaging was plain compared to later years, but it was covered in foreign script—clearly not cheap.
“What did you say?” Lin Jianzhi’s hand froze mid-wipe. A flicker of confusion crossed his face. Was Tiger telling the truth?
“He came in a car! First time I’ve ever seen one. I wanted to look at it longer, but there was a crowd around. Aiyun-jie only called me to come get you, so I came.” Tiger puffed out his chest proudly.
Hearing this, Lin Jianzhi asked a few more questions. When it seemed the boy wasn’t lying, he snatched his shirt from the ridge and took off toward the village—forgetting his sickle and basket, which Tiger kindly retrieved for him. The others exchanged glances, hesitated, then followed.
Who’d pass up a chance for excitement? Besides, this was big news!
Lin Jianzhi ran breathlessly, his feet flying. As he neared his house, he saw a crowd gathered—layers of people, packed tight. Above the sea of heads, he spotted the roof of the car Tiger had mentioned, dark and gleaming against the daylight, impossible to miss. It was parked right at his front gate.
“How does Lin Aiyun get so lucky? She goes to the city and comes back with a rich man!”
“Maybe if you looked like a fox spirit, you could too.”
“Pfft, sounds like sour grapes. Too bad we don’t have her luck. Did you see that blue dress she’s wearing? So smooth and shiny—gorgeous. Never seen anything like it.”
Lin Jianzhi listened to the gossip buzzing around him, his emotions a tangled mess. After composing himself, he deliberately bumped into the woman who’d made the sour remark and pushed through. She nearly fell and was about to curse—but when she recognized him, she shut her mouth awkwardly.
Getting caught gossiping about someone’s daughter—there was nothing more embarrassing.
“Jianzhi, you’re back? Your wife and daughter are here—they brought a young man with them. Come have a drink with me sometime.”
Lin Jianzhi saw it was a friend and nodded vaguely. He pushed open the yard gate and went in. Halfway there, he turned and waved: “Go on, get out of here. Nothing to see.”
“Sure, sure.”
A few agreed readily enough, but no one moved an inch. Some even pressed closer, craning their necks for another glimpse of that handsome stranger they’d never seen before.
“…”
Helpless, Lin Jianzhi continued toward the main hall. The door was wide open. As he stepped inside, he saw a tall figure with his back to him, pouring water for Zhang Wenhua. For some reason, one word flashed through his mind—sycophant.
“Father.” Lin Aiyun, carrying a tray of sliced watermelon, was the first to see him.
“Back? Good.” Lin Jianzhi withdrew his gaze, looking at his daughter, whom he hadn’t seen in months. Then he frowned: “I thought you were doing well at your aunt’s and weren’t coming back until later?”
Hearing this, Lin Aiyun’s gaze flickered. She looked away guiltily: “I had some things to take care of, so I came back.”
Just then, a low voice sounded beside her: “Hello, Uncle.”
Lin Jianzhi turned toward the source. The man before him was half a head taller, dressed simply in a white shirt and black trousers that outlined his tall frame and lean waist. His features were sharp, his facial lines clean-cut.
His shoes gleamed, and a modest watch adorned his wrist. Everything about him exuded an air of wealth—he looked nothing like someone from this village.
“Uncle must be tired—please, have a seat and drink some water.” Xiao Cheng noticed the curious scrutiny but pretended not to. He turned and poured a glass for Lin Jianzhi.
Lin Jianzhi shot Zhang Wenhua a questioning look. She merely signaled him to sit down first. He always listened to his wife, so he sat without a word. The next moment, a full cup appeared beside his hand.
Just then, Lin Wenkang came back from the bathroom, calling out: “Brother Cheng, tell your friend to come inside—it’s scorching out there.”
Then he spotted Lin Jianzhi and fell silent, finally mumbling a “Dad.”
“Yeah, the car’s like an oven. What if Zhou Jin gets heatstroke?” Besides, sitting in the car, people were staring at him like he was a zoo animal.
Lin Aiyun set down her bowl and walked over to Xiao Cheng.
“I’ll go get him.” Xiao Cheng rubbed the tip of his nose. He’d already called—Zhou Jin refused to come in. It was Xiao Cheng’s first time visiting his girlfriend’s family, and he was fine. Zhou Jin, on the other hand, was more flustered than he was. Unbelievable.
“Okay.” Lin Aiyun nodded and told Lin Wenkang to go with Xiao Cheng. She let out a breath—then turned to meet her father’s death glare.
“Someone want to tell me what’s going on?” Lin Jianzhi gritted out, then softened his tone: “Who is he? Why is everyone calling him my son-in-law?”
Lin Aiyun said nothing. She pulled up a chair next to Zhang Wenhua. She knew that once her mother had given her blessing, she’d help handle Lin Jianzhi.
Sure enough, Zhang Wenhua picked up a skewer, popped a piece of watermelon into her mouth, and praised: “Aiyun, this way of cutting watermelon is great—no sticky hands, no waste.”
In the bowl, watermelon was cut into various shapes, a whole bowl of bright red sweetness. They’d bought it from a farmer on the way back, and it turned out delicious.
In the countryside, watermelon was usually cut into wedges with the rind still on. No one fussed like Lin Aiyun did.
“It’s how they do it in the city.” She smiled.
“City folk sure know how to enjoy life.” Zhang Wenhua offered some to Lin Jianzhi.
“What’s there to eat? I’m asking you—who is that man?” Frustrated, Lin Jianzhi pushed the watermelon aside, hoping to get their attention.
Zhang Wenhua glanced at him: “Who else? They’re not wrong—but one thing’s off.”
“What?” Lin Jianzhi’s breath quickened, his pupils dilating.
“He’s not your son-in-law yet. He will be.”
“What?” He nearly jumped out of his seat, the weight in his chest crashing down. He saw stars. “How could I not know about something this big?”
“Well, you know now, don’t you?” Zhang Wenhua pushed the water cup closer. He picked it up, took a sip—then remembered it was his “son-in-law,” no, “future son-in-law” who’d poured it. Unsure whether to drink or not, he finally set it back down.
A beat of silence. Then Lin Jianzhi recalled something: “I thought the match your sister set up didn’t work out? Did it get back together?”
“No, not that one.” Zhang Wenhua waved her hand. “This is someone else.”
“Then who?” His temples throbbed with impatience, and he pressed her repeatedly.
Finally, Zhang Wenhua gave a brief account of how Lin Aiyun and Xiao Cheng had met. Just as she finished, Xiao Cheng returned with the other three.
“I’ve already approved this match. Have a good chat with your future son-in-law. Aiyun, let’s go see what’s for dinner.” Zhang Wenhua stood.
Lin Aiyun cast a worried glance at Xiao Cheng, who gave her a reassuring look. Only then did she follow her mother out.
“I’ll help too.” Zhou Jin, sensing the need for a private talk, excused himself. Seeing Lin Wenkang still obliviously reaching for the watermelon, he quickly found an excuse to drag him away.
Throughout that afternoon, no one knew what Xiao Cheng had said to Lin Jianzhi, but by dinner, the latter was able to sit down calmly with them.
“These are all grown in our own fields—eat up.”
Xiao Cheng nodded and smiled: “Thank you, Auntie. It’s delicious.”
“You’re welcome, you’re welcome.” Zhang Wenhua beamed like a flower. Lin Aiyun watched, slightly embarrassed—was this what they meant by a mother-in-law liking her son-in-law more and more? Just two days ago, she’d looked at him like an enemy.
After dinner, Zhang Wenhua pulled out new bedding from the cupboard and made up a bed for Xiao Cheng and Zhou Jin. With limited space at home, they’d have to share a room with Lin Wenkang. They’d considered borrowing a room from Lin Jianzhi’s older brother’s family, but worried that they might feel uncomfortable with strangers. After asking their opinions, they went with this arrangement.
“Which one is your room?” Xiao Cheng took the chance to lower his voice, tilting his chin toward the direction.
Lin Aiyun followed his gaze and spotted a closed door. A few steps away, a small windowsill held a little broken pot with a few wildflowers tucked inside—a father’s quiet longing for his daughter.
They’d probably been picked by Lin Jianzhi on his way back from the fields that noon, still fresh and unwilted. Every day, he used to bring some back for her—it seemed he hadn’t stopped even while she was away.
Looking at the petals swaying in the breeze, her lips curved and her heart stirred. She gave a soft “mm.”
Xiao Cheng saw it too. He brushed his fingers against hers and said in a low voice: “I won’t let you down.”
His meaning was clear. She didn’t reply, only held the fingertips he’d extended. But they’d only been holding hands for a moment when Zhang Wenhua’s voice called from inside. In their fluster, they let go simultaneously—too quickly, making it even more obvious.
Thankfully, no one saw.
The thrill of secrecy sent their hearts racing in unison.
“I’ll go see what she needs.” Lin Aiyun tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a blush spreading across her face, and practically fled. But before stepping inside, she couldn’t help glancing back. He stood straight and tall, watching her from afar, a tumult of emotion swirling in his eyes.
Direct, unabashed—hitting straight at the core of her heart.
—
The next morning, Lin Aiyun woke to find only herself and Zhang Wenhua at home. Everyone else had vanished. Her mother told her the men had gone to the fields at dawn.
“There’s breakfast in the pot. Eat up, then take some water to your father and the others.” Seeing her expression, Zhang Wenhua offered a suggestion.
“Okay.” Lin Aiyun’s eyes lit up. She grabbed a basin and towel and went to fetch water. As she reached the door, she heard a low voice behind her: “Oh dear, a daughter’s heart is never at home anymore.”
It was clearly a tease.
She nearly choked on her own spit, her face flushed, and she quickened her pace.
After breakfast, mindful of the blazing sun, she changed into a thin white long-sleeved shirt, tied her hair into two puffy braids, put on a straw hat, and set off toward the fields with a water canteen slung over her shoulder.
Within moments, a sheen of sweat appeared on her nose. The sun hung like a ball of fire, glaring and blinding. Weeds by the roadside drooped listlessly, occasionally stretching with a breeze.
The path was treacherous—soft, muddy earth that could give way without warning. Lin Aiyun stepped carefully, taking her time. Just as she neared her family’s field, she noticed an unusual number of women gathered nearby, all stealing glances in the same direction.
Harvesting rice was grueling work, and with the rainy season approaching, it was usually done by the men. Women handled lighter tasks. Today’s scene was definitely odd.
Frowning slightly, Lin Aiyun followed their gaze—and her breath caught in her throat.
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