Chapter Three: Returning to the City Begins with Surrendering the Demobilization Allowance

“Ah?”

Cheng Kaiyan stared in stunned disbelief at the gentle smile on his mother’s face as she reached out her delicate hand to him, leaving him momentarily speechless.

“Ah, what? No sense of independence or revolution at all! Do you think your mother would be greedy enough to pocket your discharge money? I’m just saving it for your wedding!”

Xu Yuxiu propped her chin on her hand, smiling brightly at Cheng Kaiyan, but the warmth in her eyes had vanished, replaced by a sly glint.

Cheng Kaiyan was at a loss for words. His first earnings since his rebirth were turned over to the public treasury, and he hadn’t expected his mother to be like this.

Weren’t mothers in the old days supposed to be the epitome of virtue and kindness?

Well then...

Despite being a mother now, Xu Yuxiu was once a refined young lady from a distinguished family; the mischievousness of her youth as a young miss had not completely faded.

In fact, Xu Yuxiu married Cheng Kaiyan’s father at eighteen and was just a little over thirty-nine now. Considering the years spent in re-education, she hadn’t actually suffered much.

Others were out in the fields digging wild vegetables, toiling under the scorching sun, barely earning a centimeter’s worth of work in a day.

Xu Yuxiu taught children at the village school, sheltered from the sun, and earned several work points daily.

The villagers appreciated her and would occasionally bring her eggs or noodles; life was comfortable indeed. Later, when the political rehabilitation happened, she was among the first to be reinstated in the city.

“So, you’re not happy about it?” Xu Yuxiu still smiled, but with one fair, jade-like hand, she reached over and pinched Cheng Kaiyan’s ear.

“Ouch! Ouch, Mom, let go! The money’s sewn into the pocket of my coat—don’t pull it!” Cheng Kaiyan cried out in pain. This was a kind of treatment he had never experienced in his previous life as an orphan. Now, bickering and playing with his mother gave him a warm sense of belonging.

“You brat! You think you’re grown up now, but your mother can still handle you!” Xu Yuxiu chuckled, then grabbed the military coat hanging on a nearby chair. She felt around in the pockets and pulled out a dozen or so yuan, then fished inside the lining and found a roll of banknotes.

The fine, delicate stitching at the edge of the pocket caught Xu Yuxiu’s eye, and she raised an eyebrow. She proceeded to turn the coat inside out, finally spotting several patches sewn on, each decorated with small flowers.

Xu Yuxiu understood immediately and smiled warmly, “Oh? The young master’s been away for years, and now you’ve even learned to sew?”

“No, someone else helped me sew it,” Cheng Kaiyan said, burying his head in his food. Yet in his mind surfaced the image of a female comrade, donning a military uniform with a neat large braid, her delicate appearance tempered by a hint of martial spirit.

“Someone else? That’s not just any ordinary person, right?” Xu Yuxiu knew very well—the stitching style was obviously that of a girl. She warned him, “Don’t mess around. Remember you have a childhood betrothal? It’s been a year or two since you last received a letter.”

“Alright, alright, I know!” Cheng Kaiyan replied perfunctorily. He had no interest in the childhood engagement; it was 1979, after all—no place for such feudal notions now.

This was an era of free love. Many educated youths married and had children in the countryside, some kids already five or six years old without their urban parents even knowing.

There were countless such cases, and returning to the city only stirred up chaos.

Still, the discharge money was surrendered as required; he had plenty of ways to make money.

He had just said he wanted his mother to live well, so handing over the 1,500 yuan was also a form of filial piety.

“Wow... one thousand five hundred? No wonder you couldn’t resist taking your discharge money and rushing home.”

Xu Yuxiu had already undone the stitches and counted each bill with a lick of her finger, her face brightening with some surprise.

At this time, new teachers at public high schools earned twenty-six yuan a month.

Xu Yuxiu had a bachelor’s degree and nearly twenty years of teaching experience. With her professional title, her monthly salary was fifty-eight yuan.

Though it paled in comparison to professors who earned one or two hundred, fifty-some yuan a month was quite good.

According to official statistics, the average annual wage in this state-owned economy was about 803 yuan, but realistically, that was likely an overestimate. Ordinary workers earned around two or three hundred yuan annually—equivalent to twenty or thirty yuan a month.

One thousand five hundred yuan was the equivalent of four or five years of living without spending a dime. Indeed, it was Cheng Kaiyan’s savings over four years.

However, the army didn’t pay salaries per se; they called it allowances.

The longer the service, the higher the allowance.

Six yuan in the first year, seven in the second, eight in the third, and ten in the fourth.

Even with four years’ service, Cheng Kaiyan earned twelve yuan a month—two extra yuan for frontline duty in southern Xinjiang during wartime.

Daily necessities cost little, and since Cheng Kaiyan earned a second-class merit, his discharge money might be a bit higher. According to the soldier resettlement regulations, it was increased by 10%, hence the 1,500 yuan.

“Enough said, it’s all for your mother’s sake.”

Cheng Kaiyan’s heart bled, but his face showed no sign of worry, only a filial smile.

“Hehe~ Look at what you say—it’s mine after all. Here, take ten yuan for snacks, that’ll last you two months!”

Xu Yuxiu was pleased with her son’s filial attitude. She chuckled, drew ten yuan, slapped it on the table, and got up to leave.

Ten yuan for pocket money to last two months—what a thing to say!

Cheng Kaiyan twitched the corner of his mouth as he watched his mother’s retreating figure, already imagining how life would go from here on out.

But it was 1979, only a few years after the start of the reform and opening-up period, and ten yuan was equivalent to half a month’s wages.

With some thrift, it should be enough.

No—he must have his own secret stash. That was essential.

Cheng Kaiyan worried a little. A man must never be without money in hand.

He had no intention of asking his mother for more. Although she lived frugally alone, her health was poor and medicine was an expense.

The 1,500 yuan discharge money was nothing; if given, then given—he could always earn more. Besides, it was hers to begin with...

...

“Hurry and take a bath, you stink to high heaven!”

After dinner, Xu Yuxiu tidied up and, with a look of disdain, ordered him around.

Her words strangely reminded Cheng Kaiyan of university students going home on holiday—one day you’re their precious darling, the next day they’re complaining about you.

But Cheng Kaiyan hadn’t bathed in days on the train, and with the stuffy carriage, he really did smell.

Bathing in this era was truly a challenge.

Boiling water baths meant wasting firewood and coal.

Going to a public bathhouse cost money.

Like now, Cheng Kaiyan stood in the kitchen corner equipped with a drainpipe, carrying two buckets of water scooped from the pot and pouring them into a large red basin. Soon, the kitchen was shrouded in steam.

This was called a sitz bath. Cheng Kaiyan remembered when he was little, being forced into a basin while hot water was poured on him spoon by spoon, burning him like scalding a pig, yet Xu Yuxiu always insisted it wasn’t hot enough.

He recalled those bittersweet memories.

He had just taken off his clothes when a cold draft from the window sent goosebumps all over him, making his body shiver uncontrollably. He couldn’t help shouting, “Mom! How about I go to the bathhouse instead?”

“You want to go to the bathhouse? You spendthrift! You don’t know the cost of firewood, rice, oil, and salt. A bath ticket costs one mao, and without two or three mao, you think you can finish washing? Do you have so much money to burn?”

Outside in the yard, Xu Yuxiu sat on a stool scrubbing clothes by the well, and upon hearing the noise inside, she laughed and scolded him.

Meanwhile, Cheng Kaiyan finished bathing, changed into clean clothes, and felt thoroughly refreshed.

Back in his room, not too big, not too small, about twenty-odd square meters.

No wonder the other kids in the courtyard always envied him. In those days, single children were rare; most families had two or three kids, and four or five people crammed into a single room was normal.

There was a single bed made of sour jujube wood, a desk by the window, and a bookshelf beside it.

The shelf held books Cheng Kaiyan had read from childhood to now, along with lesson plans and notes made by Xu Yuxiu, even students’ homework. Clearly, when Cheng Kaiyan wasn’t home, his mother used this space as a study.

Most eye-catching was the piano in the corner. Cheng Kaiyan approached and peered at the lid, where golden letters read: STEINWAY.

Wow! A Steinway.

According to his mother, this piano was purchased when his maternal grandmother practiced piano as a child. The Xu family was once a scholarly household in the capital, hiring a French woman as a music teacher to instruct piano. The Steinway was bought on her recommendation, costing five thousand silver dollars!

Later, the family fell on hard times, and only this Steinway remained as a treasured heirloom.

It carried the memories of his grandmother, his mother, and his own childhood piano lessons.

“Creak~”

Cheng Kaiyan slowly opened the piano lid. The wooden lid had weathered decades, its surface mottled and marked with bumps and scratches, but elsewhere it still gleamed as if freshly oiled. His mother had taken good care of it.

“Ding dong ding dong~”

His fingers moved as if by muscle memory, instinctively striking a chord.

Though the tone was slightly off, the familiar, faintly melancholic melody brought a name to mind: The Street Where the Wind Blows.

“Hmm? My memories…”

His expression flickered with surprise and doubt. At that moment, he realized that the songs he had heard and the novels he had read in his past life were vividly intact in his mind, ready for him to access at will.

A golden touch? Super memory?

At that thought, a smile spread across Cheng Kaiyan’s face. He relaxed fully, sinking into the soft bed, turning his face to inhale the scent of the floral quilt cover infused with laundry detergent and sunshine.

He had never experienced such a wonderful beginning before!

Perhaps writing words, even ghostwriting, might be a good idea?

As fatigue swept over him, Cheng Kaiyan lying on the bed gradually drifted into a deep sleep.

“Creak~”

Xu Yuxiu, having finished washing clothes in the yard and hung them out to dry, pushed open the door and came inside.

She saw Cheng Kaiyan sprawled out on the bed, sleeping in an ungainly posture, and sighed with a wry smile, “You brat! It’s winter, and you’re sleeping without a blanket!”

She pulled the quilt over him and tucked in the corners.

“Now that you’re back, I suppose it’s time to talk about marriage arrangements.”

Xu Yuxiu thought to herself as she turned to sit at the desk, penning a letter.