Matchmaker?

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Luck was on her side. On the way back, she encountered a cattle cart from Qianxi Village that still had space, so she took a ride with Ye Qingzhi.

Before she could settle down, an older woman asked, "Which family in Houxi Village are you from?"

“Are you Wei Youliang’s daughter-in-law? I heard Jiancheng got into trouble—is that true?” a nearby auntie asked, looking at Ye Qingzhi with suspicion.

Life in the countryside was like this—any minor incident, even a broken bowl, would spread like wildfire. A death was an even bigger deal. Qianxi and Houxi villages were not far apart, separated only by a small stream, so they had known the news since yesterday afternoon.

Everyone’s eyes subtly examined Ye Qingzhi. Seeing her swollen, red eyes and haggard expression, they were full of sympathy.

“Little sister, cheer up. I heard your husband left five or six years ago; whether he’s alive or dead, it’s about the same. You’re still young—go find someone else to marry. The living have to move on,” the older woman comforted her.

Hearing this, Ye Qingzhi’s expression darkened with a mix of anger and restraint.

That reaction was unusual. The aunties exchanged glances, sensing there was more to the story. They quickly pressed Ye Qingzhi to explain.

Unable to hold back, she broke down in tears, telling them bit by bit that Wei Jiancheng had taken a mistress and gave his salary to her.

“My second son was just a month old when he left. He only sent some money during the first four months, then nothing—no letters, no money. My family is far away; my mother-in-law passed, and my father-in-law can’t be relied upon. I’m raising two little kids alone, struggling to keep the household afloat. And him? He’s out there with another woman. Even if he ignores me, the two boys are his sons, and he doesn’t care for them,” Ye Qingzhi sobbed.

The women hadn’t expected this secret but weren’t surprised. After all, Wei Jiancheng had been gone six years, earning a salary—there was no way he stayed faithful.

“Little sister, stop crying. Men are all like that,” another auntie comforted her.

Ye Qingzhi sniffled and nodded occasionally, accepting their consolation. With these women spreading the story, it was certain the nearby villages would soon know.

Back in her village, Ye Qingzhi encountered elderly people not working in the fields. Still heartbroken, she hesitated but eventually confided the truth under their questioning. They responded with various words of comfort.

As soon as Ye Qingzhi left, the elders began discussing.

“I always knew there was something wrong—who just leaves for five or six years and doesn’t send money? Sure enough, he took a mistress,” Mrs. Wu said with a knowing look.

“I suspected it too and told Qingzhi, but she got angry. They say if you don’t listen to the elders, you suffer in front of your eyes. Now look, she’s paying the price. If she’d listened, she’d have kept Jiancheng’s wages herself. Now all that’s gone to some outsider,” Mrs. Li added, a bit smug that her warning had come true.

“But if Jiancheng gave his money to that woman, doesn’t that leave Qingzhi with nothing?” Mrs. Zhang asked, puzzled.

Mrs. Wu glanced at her. “Of course. Fang Xiaomei even wanted to claim inheritance but didn’t expect everything to go to an outsider.”

Mrs. Li nodded. “The most pitiful is Jiancheng’s wife—raising two children alone, and her husband’s no good. I saw her eyes all swollen from crying. Such a shame.”

Mrs. Zhang rolled her eyes. “I used to think Jiancheng’s wife wouldn’t remarry. But with this situation, she surely won’t wait for Jiancheng. She’s still young, a bit thin maybe, but has a good foundation. I’ll find a suitable match for her.”

Mrs. Wu and Mrs. Li said nothing but secretly had their own schemes. If this matchmaking worked, they’d not only receive a bride price but enjoy several good meals as well.

By mid-morning, everyone knew Wei Jiancheng had taken a mistress and given his wages to her.

Wei Youliang and Fang Xiaomei, upon hearing this, hurried to find Ye Qingzhi.

“Jiancheng’s wife, we talked on the phone this morning. How come I didn’t know Jiancheng had a mistress?” Wei Youliang eyed Ye Qingzhi suspiciously, doubting her, thinking she was making things up to tarnish Jiancheng’s name and justify looking for another man.

Ye Qingzhi stared blankly at them, her tone low and heavy. “After you left, I couldn’t just give up. I begged Comrade Lin to find Jiancheng’s friend’s number and called. That’s when I found out he’d been seeing someone for years. No wonder he rarely wrote or sent money. He said he was saving to buy a house—all lies.”

Seeing Ye Qingzhi so broken, Wei Youliang’s doubts vanished. He knew his son well enough to know he was selfish and capable of such betrayal.

“Then you don’t have to make it public like this. Jiancheng’s already dead; you’re just ruining his reputation,” Wei Youliang said unhappily.

Though they had separated their families, they were still father and son. Jiancheng’s bad reputation would implicate him as the father.

Ye Qingzhi gave Wei Youliang a scornful look. “They say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I didn’t believe it before, but now I do. A father who favors women over sons, and a son just like him. Jiancheng is truly your seed—never learning the good, only the bad.”

Wei Jiancheng’s father was so angry his head seemed to steam. “I’m your elder. How dare you speak to me like that?”

Ye Qingzhi snorted coldly. “I don’t want to see you now. Get out.” She grabbed a broom and swept toward them, forcing the two men out the door. She shut it immediately, unwilling to entertain them further.

Fang Xiaomei, gathering her wits, knocked on the door. “Jiancheng’s wife, did that woman take all of Jiancheng’s wages and belongings? Do you know who she is? We can’t let an outsider get away with this. We have to get the money and things back.”

No response came. Fang Xiaomei frowned and was about to knock again when Wei Youliang pulled her away.

“Enough. We don’t even know where that woman is. Even if we did, we can’t get the stuff back. Should we go to the northwest ourselves? Or can you trust Haibo to go? That place is wild, and she’s a local boss. Forget it,” Wei Youliang said, noticing many villagers were watching from a distance. He quickly dragged Fang Xiaomei away.

Back home, Fang Xiaomei grew more resentful, feeling cheated.

“Mom, stop thinking about it. Let’s eat first,” said Lin Xiujuan, Wei Haibo’s wife.

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Fang Xiaomei looked at Lin Xiujuan’s prominent belly and slammed the table. “The inheritance is gone, but the house is still ours. Our current place is too small. We have to make Ye Qingzhi and her family swap houses with us.”

Fang Xiaomei currently lived in the old Wei family house, while Ye Qingzhi lived in the newer one.

When the family split, Wei Youliang wanted to give the old house to Wei Jiancheng and keep the new house for themselves, but Jiancheng’s uncles and Ye Qingzhi’s family opposed. The village elders also sided with Jiancheng, so Wei Youliang’s plan failed.

Though Jiancheng got the house, most of the belongings were moved out by Fang Xiaomei. It was no exaggeration to say Ye Qingzhi once cooked without even a pot lid.

Now with Jiancheng dead, Fang Xiaomei was eyeing the house again.

“Mom, what’s the plan?” Wei Haibo asked immediately.

Who wouldn’t want the bigger house? The backyard even had a patch to grow vegetables, enough for a family.

“If Ye Qingzhi remarries, would she still be allowed to live in the Wei family home?” Fang Xiaomei asked with a sly smile.

“Mom, you want sister-in-law to remarry?” Wei Haibo looked at her in surprise.

Lin Xiujuan rolled her eyes. “Mom, do you have someone in mind?”

“Niu Laosan from town,” Fang Xiaomei said proudly.

Wei Haibo was stunned. Niu Laosan? Nearly sixty, widowed twice—a poor choice.

“Would sister-in-law agree?” Wei Haibo asked doubtfully.

“Niu Laosan is great. He’s a butcher. If she marries him, she’ll have meat every day. Raising two kids alone is tough. Marrying Niu Laosan means the boys will be well-fed,” Fang Xiaomei claimed, pretending to look out for Ye Qingzhi.

“A butcher?” Lin Xiujuan finally realized who Fang Xiaomei meant. Thinking of Niu Laosan’s appearance made her shudder, but then she brightened. “If we introduce a match for him, won’t he have to give us some meat as thanks?”

Fang Xiaomei nodded approvingly. “Xiujuan, you’re smart. That’s my other motive.”

“But would Niu Laosan agree?” Wei Haibo asked again.

“Why wouldn’t he? Ye Qingzhi has two kids, but she’s only twenty-five, pretty, and her skin is amazing—no matter how much she works in the sun, she stays as white as tofu. Niu Laosan would be thrilled to marry such a young bride. The real challenge is convincing Ye Qingzhi,” Fang Xiaomei said confidently.

“Then let’s go find Niu Laosan now,” Wei Haibo stood up to leave.

Fang Xiaomei grabbed him, glaring. “What’s the rush? Jiancheng just died. If I, as the stepmother, introduce a match to his widow right away, what will people say?”

Of course, Ye Qingzhi would have to remarry eventually—preferably far away with those two kids—but this couldn’t be their doing.

Fang Xiaomei had a sudden idea. She beckoned Lin Xiujuan to ask her brother Lin Xiufeng to discreetly probe Niu Laosan’s intentions. Lin Xiujuan herself would act as the matchmaker.

Ye Qingzhi was unaware of their scheming. She tidied her home, prepared the meal, and worried since her two children hadn’t returned. She decided to search the mountain.

It was the fifth lunar month; the mountains were lush and overgrown, with tall grass. Wei Anmin and his brother were short, making the search harder.

They checked several spots where pig grass was easily cut, but no sign of the boys. Ye Qingzhi’s anxiety grew as she called their names while walking.

“Anmin, Anjie, where are you?”

After over ten minutes, she found them in a mountain hollow. She ran to them, hugging them tightly. “Why did you wander so far? There are wild animals up here. Don’t go so far next time. And don’t enter thick grass—it could hide poisonous snakes.”

She brushed the grass off their clothes and saw scratches on their arms, heart aching. “Did someone bully you, stopping you from cutting pig grass nearby?”

The boys said nothing, confirming her suspicion.

Though Jiancheng was gone, he was alive before and a factory worker. The villagers hadn’t bullied them much.

Now with him dead and no men at home, adults wouldn’t turn against them so quickly, but children were different. The very next day, the boys were bullied.

“Mom, it’s okay. Today we wanted to cut more pig grass ourselves,” Wei Anmin held Ye Qingzhi’s hand, worried she might get sick from anger.

Ye Qingzhi hugged her boys and quietly asked, “Anmin, Anjie, if I found you a stepfather, would you agree?”

Though she had no one in mind, she wanted to prepare them. In the countryside, without a man at home or help from either side of the family, life was very tough.

The boys remained silent. Ye Qingzhi rubbed their heads. “I’m just asking. Let’s go home.”

On the third day after receiving the will—also Ye Qingzhi’s third day in this world—the work team informed her to start working.

May was the Grain in Ear season, time to plant rice, corn, sweet potatoes, and beans. Apart from harvest, it was the busiest time of year. They gave her two days off only because of her husband’s death.

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She woke at 4:30 a.m., ate a little, and carried a hoe to the field.

After just an hour, her back and waist ached. Looking at the vast fields, knowing she had to do this for at least ten more years, she felt hopeless.

Maybe because of the aftereffects of transmigration, her body hadn’t recovered. Standing made her vision blur; without the hoe to support her, she would have fainted.

“Qingzhi, are you okay?” Aunt Ye turned, worried to see her on the verge of collapse.

Ye Qingzhi forced a weak smile, shaking her head. “I’m fine.”

Aunt Ye whispered, “Don’t be too honest. Take it easy when you can. Look at Mrs. Li’s family—they barely dug a row.”

“Thank you, Auntie, I understand,” Ye Qingzhi said sincerely.

Finally, work ended. She forced herself home and shut the door, bursting into tears.

She was truly wronged. Transported back to the 1960s, it wasn’t just about eating well—sometimes even eating enough was hard. She couldn’t sleep well, there was no toilet or electric light, and now she had to work the fields hard. She had never done such labor before!

“Mom, dinner’s ready. Come eat,” Wei Anmin called from outside.

Ye Qingzhi sniffed. No matter what, better to live badly than die. What else could she do?

“I’m coming.” She cleared her throat, rested a moment, then went out.

Wei Anmin and Wei Anjie immediately noticed she had been crying. They had heard about Jiancheng’s mistress and understood why Mom hid and cried.

Remembering her sudden talk of remarriage yesterday, Wei Anmin pursed his lips and said seriously, “Mom, if you find someone good, then remarry. Don’t worry about me and my brother.”

Ye Qingzhi was stunned, then realized the boys had become quiet since yesterday. She’d thought they opposed her remarrying, but really they feared she’d leave them behind.

“That’s nonsense. Even if I remarry, I’ll take you both with me. My first condition is that my new husband must accept you,” Ye Qingzhi said sternly.

Wei Anjie’s eyes brightened. He ran to her side. “Mom, you’ll bring us?”

“Of course. Wherever I go, I bring you. What, do people talk about you behind your backs?” Ye Qingzhi’s face darkened.

The boys shook their heads, their expressions visibly brightening.

Days passed. Though she tried to slack off, Ye Qingzhi felt on the verge of collapse.

Those who claimed to love farming at home should try it. It was backbreaking work—not fit for humans.

“Sis-in-law, are you okay? You look terrible,” Lin Xiujuan suddenly appeared beside Ye Qingzhi.

“I’m fine,” Ye Qingzhi glanced at her, ignoring her.

Lin Xiujuan was Fang Xiaomei’s daughter-in-law—not someone to trust, always glancing around suspiciously.

After much talking and no response, Lin Xiujuan bluntly said, “Sis-in-law, now that your husband is gone, have you thought about remarrying?”

Just as expected, she wanted to matchmake. What good matches could Fang Xiaomei’s family offer?

“You mean who? Niu Laosan?” Ye Qingzhi gritted her teeth.

She knew Fang Xiaomei wouldn’t offer anything decent but didn’t expect such heartlessness.

Almost sixty, old enough to be her grandfather—how could anyone think of that?

“Exactly. Niu Laosan is a butcher, a regular worker with a steady wage. Plus, you’d have meat every day. Sis, your family hasn’t eaten meat in a long time, right? If not for yourself, think of Anmin and the others—they’re as skinny as chicks. Don’t you feel sorry for them?” Lin Xiujuan said, feigning concern.

Ye Qingzhi held back her anger, then suddenly felt a pang of sadness.

“Jiancheng just left. Though he had someone else, I haven’t let go yet. I have no thoughts of remarrying for now.”

Seeing Lin Xiujuan was about to continue, Ye Qingzhi said casually, “I heard Niu Laosan’s match criteria. Actually, your mother-in-law fits better—aged thirty to fifty, decent looks, can cook. Isn’t that Aunt Fang?”

Lin Xiujuan was shocked. “Sis, what are you saying? Father-in-law is still alive.”

“Not your real father-in-law,” Ye Qingzhi said as if she knew something better. She lowered her voice. “If your mother-in-law can be with Jiancheng’s father, why not with Niu Laosan? You’re trying to find a match for Niu Laosan just to get some meat, right? If she marries him, you and Haibo won’t have to worry about meat anymore. Even if there’s no good meat, pig offal won’t be missing. Xiujuan, a full meal now and then and a full meal every day—you know what I mean.”

Lin Xiujuan seemed to have discovered a new world. She pursed her lips, stomped her foot, and left to find Wei Haibo.