Volume One, Chapter Three: A Chance Encounter

As Dong Qianqian watched a group of burly men inside the carriage, ready to settle the matter quietly, the ticket clerk suddenly strode forward and snatched the eggs away from an elderly man.

She addressed the people in the carriage, “Don’t snatch, don’t snatch. These belong to the young comrade here. We must strive to be self-reliant. Our great leader taught us to learn from Comrade Lei Feng, embodying selflessness and a spirit of helping others.

People often complain they don’t have the chance to do great things, but now isn’t this a perfect opportunity?”

With that, she produced an army-green cloth bag embroidered with the red characters “Serve the People.” Turning to the crowd, she said, “Put the eggs back. We still have a chance to be featured in the newspaper as Lei Feng helpers. If you don’t return them, we’ll drive to the police station to find the authorities.”

Dong Qianqian was puzzled. Who was this Lei Feng? How did the ticket clerk have such courage to threaten them into handing over what they had picked up? She was just a woman—no knife or gun, and even shorter than Dong Qianqian herself. Where did she find such boldness to speak so firmly?

While Dong Qianqian marveled at the clerk’s bravery, the people in the carriage showed varied reactions. At last, someone couldn’t resist the pressure of the red armband she wore. Stepping forward, he said to Dong Qianqian, “Young lady, I’m just holding these for you. Why would I covet a single egg?” Then, without hesitation, he put the eggs into the cloth bag.

Others tried to take advantage of the confusion, thinking since some had returned theirs, they wouldn’t have to. After all, there were so many eggs, and no scales to weigh them—how could anyone be certain?

But those with such thoughts did not escape Dong Qianqian’s sharp gaze. She carefully noted each person’s location when they picked up eggs and whispered to the ticket clerk.

In truth, she preferred to involve the authorities—the police station the clerk had mentioned. If this matter escalated, the entire carriage would resent the two women. If a fight broke out, they would be the ones to suffer.

Yet the ticket clerk simply patted her hand and called out to the back of the carriage, “Xu, what are you waiting for? If you don’t act now, when will you? Once we get to the police station, it’ll be too late for you.”

The entire carriage, including Dong Qianqian, turned their eyes toward the rear.

There lay a young man in military uniform. Standing over six feet tall, he had to stoop to move within the cramped carriage. Even in the dim light, his strikingly handsome face could not be concealed—a blooming crimson rose, stunningly beautiful, almost feminine.

Tall and slender with a graceful waist, his demeanor was extraordinary, with a jade-like visage.

Compared to those around him, he was like a crane spreading its wings among chickens.

Dong Qianqian glanced once, and her eyes felt scalded; she dared not look again. Fear gripped her heart fiercely: No, no, it couldn’t be him!

A hoarse, blurred voice whispered by her ear. Dong Qianqian was already on edge, and the voice was just the same.

He stood close to the ticket clerk. “Sister Lin, you’ve misunderstood me. I was born to serve the people. The people’s matters are my matters. How could I not take this seriously? It’s just a few eggs. Wait and see!”

Since seeing him, Dong Qianqian stopped caring about the eggs altogether. She even wanted to stand up and shout that she didn’t want them.

But as the man walked among the crowd with the cloth bag, the burly men began to humbly appease him, and the bag was soon filled and brought before her.

“Here, weigh it. If anything’s missing, Sister Lin might make me pay with my salary.”

Dong Qianqian forced herself not to look at his face, took the bag, and shook her head.

She dared not speak. The man before her was identical to Xu Fengchuo from her past life—in voice, appearance, and tone.

She could only pray hard that there were merely people who looked alike in this world.

But this man was clearly displeased with Dong Qianqian’s indifferent attitude.

In a low voice, he asked, “Is anything missing? What does your shaking your head mean?”

Even his angry tone was the same. Dong Qianqian was indifferent.

This was exactly like Xu Gonggong in her previous life. Could it really be such a coincidence?

She was about to start a new life—why must she be dragged back into the mire of the past?

Sister Lin, displeased with his attitude toward the girl, said, “Shaking your head means nothing’s missing! You’re a grown man and still can’t understand a girl’s feelings. No wonder your brother is about to get married, but you haven’t even found someone. Comrade Xu Fengchuo, you should do some self-reflection.”

Xu Fengchuo mockingly shook his head, imitating Dong Qianqian’s earlier gesture.

He pitifully said, “Oh, alright, I reflect. I’m a servant of the people! Serving the people is my duty. It’s only natural not to receive gratitude.”

Then, as if deliberately, he sat down beside Dong Qianqian’s seat.

She uneasily shifted inward, but Xu Fengchuo pressed closer, pinning her against the window.

Dong Qianqian was grateful she was wearing many layers to keep any skin contact at bay.

Xu Fengchuo then looked into her eyes, the one part of her face he couldn’t hide from.

As if discovering something novel, shamelessly he kept asking her questions.

“It’s so hot in the carriage, why don’t you show your face? I brought foreign chocolates, want some? There’s no orange soda sold here, want a drink? What’s your name? I helped you so much, don’t you want to say thanks?”

All along, Xu Fengchuo—who looked, sounded, and even shared the same name as Xu Gonggong from her past life, except for his personality—chattered incessantly, trying to strike up conversation.

Dong Qianqian almost missed the silent Xu Gonggong from her previous life, who could go a month without uttering a word even while living and eating with her.

Xu Fengchuo exhausted all the pick-up lines his comrades had taught him. He said every flattering thing he could.

Yet until the girl got off at the station, he never heard a single word from those eyes, which resembled Qing Rui’s.

It was a pity—he was seeing eyes so like Qing Rui’s for the very first time.

Only the cap and the bangs covered much of her face.

He wondered if her appearance was similar; hopefully not a face that would mar Qing Rui’s beauty.

Dong Qianqian got off at Qingpu station, still some distance from home.

But she felt if she didn’t get off now, she might end up slapping him. What crime was assaulting a public official? She preferred not to find out.

In Shanghai, 1973, the winter morning wind blew sharply, creeping into her sleeves, spreading through her limbs.

The streets were paved with bluestone slabs. Aside from an elderly bespectacled man stooping to sweep away dead leaves, no one else was around.

Fortunately, it was close to the neighborhood committee office, which wouldn’t open until eight, meaning Lin Xuehua hadn’t yet arrived to register.

This was her chance. Dong Qianqian knocked on a nearby door.

A little girl with a bowl haircut peeked out. “Sister, do you need something? My parents aren’t home.”