The Spring Festival had just ended, and spring was still a long way off in Northeast China.
Wrapped in her issued padded coat and wearing black leather shoes, Cheng Huan walked home from work. Her hair had been cut short and tucked neatly behind her ears. The uniform gave her a distinctive beauty. She looked nothing like the girl in Fucheng who had been caught between her parents and Luo Bisheng, crying so hard she could barely breathe.
As she entered the residential community, she heard her father's booming voice from far away.
Several middle-aged men were squatting downstairs, cigarettes dangling from their mouths, deep in conversation. International affairs, housing prices, how each generation of young people was worse than the last. The more they talked, the more worked up they became, each with his own cigarette and theory, looking ready to govern the country and bring peace to the world tomorrow.
Cheng Huan walked over and took her father's arm.
"All right, all right, time to go home for dinner. It's freezing out here. Don't you feel cold?" She tapped the cigarette in his hand. "Why are you smoking again? Didn't you say you'd quit?"
Her father chuckled, tossed the cigarette to the ground, and stamped it out.
One of the men leaned over. "Cheng, your girl sure knows how to look after you. Huanhuan gets prettier by the day. When do we get to come to her wedding?"
Her father patted the back of his daughter's hand. "Get your red envelopes ready. Soon."
Cheng Huan said nothing and pulled her father away.
Back home, oil was already sizzling in the wok, and delicious smells wafted out of the kitchen.
Cheng Huan washed her hands, changed into her pajamas, and slipped into the kitchen to help her mother. Homes