The lightbulb glowed a warm yellow, bathing the room in a cozy light.
The sea fish Shen Mingsong had slammed around was barely alive. As soon as Song Erya brought it back, Song Fang deftly steamed it, drizzling it with a soy-based sauce she mixed herself.
Song Erya took a bite. The fish was tender and silky, and the soy sauce—sun-dried by a small nearby workshop—was wonderfully fragrant.
This body of hers had an astonishing appetite. She wanted to eat everything, probably because she had been starved for so long before. She ate with gusto.
Song Guoliang came back after fooling around all day, his energy spent, and immediately shoveled meat into his bowl.
"Why are you only eating meat? Didn't we have fish today?" Song Fang blocked his chopsticks, stopping it all from going into his stomach.
Song Guoliang snorted. "That's from their house. I'm not eating it."
"Why?"
"Stuff from a widow's family—it's unlucky!"
Song Fang flared up and smacked his head with her chopsticks. "Then don't eat anything at all. Get lost!"
Song Erya turned her face to look at Song Guoliang—big head, big ears, fat all the way into middle age, until gambling debts finally forced him to lose weight.
Her mother had told her that when Song Guoliang was young, he'd even had three fingers chopped off over gambling and had been to prison. Their grandparents had also been driven to their deaths because of him.
After Song Fang died, he had shown up before Shen Mingsong with a fawning, obsequious smile, begging for money. When refused, he even threatened to seize Song Erya's guardianship.
Song Erya felt an inexplicable urge to laugh.
Song Guoliang was a hardened scoundrel who wasn't afraid of being scolded, yet today he actually did as he was told—he picked up his bowl and went back to his room.
Song Fang ladled a bowl of soup for Song Erya. Quietly, Song Erya moved the meat into her mother's bowl. So this was how poor things were back then—eating a single piece of meat could spark resentment.
After dinner, Song Erya continued doing housework with Song Fang. There was naturally no washing machine in the Song household.
Not wanting to see her mother labor alone, Song Erya stood over a large basin, using her feet to tread on the laundry.
After her parents divorced, she lived with her mother. Song Fang was always busy at work, so Song Erya went to school by herself. After school, she could even stop by the market to buy groceries and cook dinner, so her mother could eat as soon as she got home.
She hadn't done much hand-washing of clothes, and the coarse detergent rubbed her pale, tender soles red.
Seeing this, Song Fang asked, "Yaoyao, why did you throw your brother's clothes out?"
"I hate him. I'm not washing his clothes."
"What happened—did you fight?"
"I just saw him hiding in his room eating a fried pig's trotter, this big." Song Erya gestured a circle with her hands. "He wouldn't give me any."
Hearing this, Song Fang pushed open the door to the inner room and indeed saw Song Guoliang gnawing on a half-eaten trotter. On the table, a brown paper bag still held several greasy meat patties.
Knowing he was always possessive over food, Song Fang still asked, "Give one to your sister."
"No." Song Guoliang refused outright. "Grandma bought these just for me. She didn't say they were for you."
Their grandparents' living conditions were fairly good, and they were extremely willing to spend money on their grandson. Song Guoliang visited them every few days, always coming back with treats and pocket money, eating himself into a massive size.
Back then, when Song Fang had gone to borrow money for formula while holding baby Song Yao, the elderly couple had refused her.
In that era, favoritism toward sons was ingrained to the bone—and even in later generations, such elders were far from rare.
When Song Fang came back empty-handed, Song Erya pouted pitifully. "Sister, I want some too."
Song Fang's face darkened. "When I get paid, I'll buy some for you."
After thinking for a moment, Song Fang suddenly picked up the dirty clothes that had been thrown aside, went out, and tossed them beyond the courtyard.
Song Erya watched calmly. She wasn't really craving the food—she simply hated Song Guoliang and had deliberately gone to stir things up in front of her mother.
That night, she slept in the same bed as Song Fang.
Moonlight flowed in through the green glass window like water. In the quiet night, she heard Song Fang's heavy breathing, restrained and suppressed.
From as far back as she could remember, Song Erya knew her uncle had always demanded money from Song Fang. Song Fang was hardworking and capable, and had earned a decent livelihood, but her brother constantly asked for money.
Her father had argued with her mother countless times over this uncle. After each fight, her father would vent his anger on Song Erya, wearing a perpetually dark expression that frightened her. As a result, the two people she hated most were her uncle and her father. When her parents finally divorced, she had secretly been happy for a long time.
Although her father ran off with another woman after the affair, her uncle still clung to their family like a foul plaster. Even after Song Erya fell ill, he had stolen money from the house to gamble while her mother was heartbroken, leaving them without funds during treatment and forcing Song Fang to sell a house at a loss.
In the end, it was Shen Mingsong who stepped in, transferred her to a better hospital, and found matching bone marrow for her.
The twenty-year-old Song Fang couldn't understand why her brother wouldn't even share a meat patty with her.
Years later, her mother would still feel the pain. Orphaned young, she had acted as both sister and mother, raising her brother alone, relying on each other. She couldn't understand how he could be so heartless.
Song Erya guessed that perhaps it was because the real Song Yao had died that Song Fang cherished her only remaining sibling even more, tolerating everything.
From behind, Song Erya wrapped her arms around her and whispered by her ear, "Mom."
Song Fang hurriedly wiped away her tears and pretended nothing was wrong. "Why are you calling people wrong again?"
Her mother had endured two disastrous marriages. It was with her second husband that she gave birth to Song Erya, and she doted on her only daughter. Yet her suffering did not end because of that.
During Song Erya's treatment, Song Fang worried until her hair turned white. Later, during a viral outbreak, she was unfortunately infected and passed away before Song Erya.
If she had traveled back now, could she change her mother's fate?
Song Erya didn't want her to repeat that path. But changing her mother's fate would mean preventing her own birth—her very existence was, in a way, a burden on her mother.
She unwrapped the White Rabbit milk candy she'd gotten from Mingzhu earlier and stuffed it into Song Fang's mouth, whispering, "Mom, I love you."
Song Fang laughed through her tears. "It's 'sister.'"
There was nothing particularly special about traveling back to 1995. Song Erya only had shallow, online knowledge of the era—she didn't know which lottery ticket would win, had no cheat code at all.
But the unknown was meant to be explored. Later generations would say this era was one of opportunities everywhere, where going into business could bring immense wealth. Shen Mingsong was one of those who rode the tide of the times to become a powerful figure.
There was still a long road ahead. She would have to plan carefully.
~
The weather in Coconut City cleared. The sky was a deep blue merging with the sea, the distant calls of ships and seagulls awakening a bright summer day in Crescent Bay.
Song Erya wandered around and quickly familiarized herself with the surroundings.
The last time she had traveled back had been like a flash of lightning—just once, with nothing afterward.
Coconut City was a tourist city, beautiful everywhere. Though life in this era was still relatively poor and backward, the economy was slowly being driven by reform. Song Erya had already seen several foreigners carrying backpacks, taking photos everywhere.
She ran into Jiang Ling and a few other girls on the road, who called her out to play. Only after going with them did she realize they meant doing summer homework together.
Because of poverty, Song Yao had started school two years later than others. At fourteen, she had only just graduated from elementary school.
Elementary school graduates didn't have summer homework, but Song Fang had borrowed first-year middle school textbooks and assigned her tasks, hoping she wouldn't forget everything while playing and then fall behind in middle school.
The sun by the coast was merciless, beating down from noon onward. Only the thick-skinned boys dared to run around shirtless under it.
Afraid of getting sunburned, Song Erya hid in the shade of a bald cypress tree. Jiang Ling and the others gathered around several small stone tables.
"Why are you still writing? Just copy the answers, isn't that enough?"
The speaker was Tao Dongdong, an impatient one. Eager to go play, she urged them on. She didn't like studying anyway—everything she pulled out of her little backpack was snacks.
She handed out some roasted walnuts to Song Erya. Seeing her struggle to crack them with a stone, Tao Dongdong snatched one, squeezed hard in her palm, and split it open.
Tao Dongdong wore her hair short, with long, strong limbs and a beautiful wheat-colored complexion. At first, Song Erya had thought she was a handsome boy—until she noticed the beginnings of a developing chest.
Song Erya took the walnuts and thanked her.
Jiang Ling asked where she got the money to buy snacks. Their allowances were pitifully small—barely enough for an ice pop.
Tao Dongdong said she had caught a lot of tiger prawns while beachcombing a few days ago and sold them.
Hearing that children could earn money too, the little freeloader Song Erya perked up. "How did you sell them?"
Although the sea had everything, children usually took what they found home to eat. Selling it themselves risked being cheated or underpaid. Giving it to adults often meant the adults pocketed the money—either way, the kids earned nothing.
Tao Dongdong said, "At the dock."
Song Erya's eyes sparkled.
If there was anything bad about traveling back to the 1990s, it was poverty. Song Fang earned only a few hundred a month, and Song Erya didn't have a single cent.
The clothes she wore were all altered from what Song Guoliang could no longer fit—filthy and embarrassing.
Song Erya clasped her hands together toward Tao Dongdong, smiling brightly, irresistibly. "Can you take me with you next time?"
Kids had nothing to do besides homework. Too much idleness made them want to find something—anything—to do.
Tao Dongdong said of course. "We can ask Shen Mingsong for help then. He can sell anything."
Song Erya wasn't surprised. Some people were just born with a knack for making money. In the future, Shen Mingsong would be a renowned real estate tycoon, addressed respectfully as "Mr. Shen" by everyone.
Raised by his side, she benefited too, moving among the circles of wealthy second-generation heirs. Those people treated her like some young heiress—very few dared to argue with her, all hoping to curry favor with Mr. Shen through her.
Jiang Ling hesitated. "But Shen Mingsong, he..."
Rumors about Shen Mingsong's mother being a curse-bringer had spread vividly. Shen Mingsong himself was seen as unlucky. That disaster had been too devastating—most of his family had died. The Shen family was left with only him and his mother, plus his uncle's family.
Tao Dongdong scoffed. "You believe that nonsense Shen Xiaonian spreads? My dad often takes him out to sea, and he comes back alive just fine."
Uncle Tao was a fishing captain who led crews to sea—and also Shen Mingsong's mentor.
Tao Dongdong's voice grew a bit loud, reaching the ears of Shen Xiaonian, who was digging sand not far away. He immediately rushed over.
Shen Xiaonian pointed at Tao Dongdong's nose. "Who are you talking about?"
Tao Dongdong was fearless. "You. So what? Your whole family are bastards, picking on a widow and her child."
She despised Shen Xiaonian's father. As Shen Mingsong's uncle, he had blamed the disaster on Shen Mingsong and his mother, even inviting shamans to brand them as a cursed household.
Coconut City had many folk customs, and the words of shamans carried weight. Most people were ignorant—hearing a rumor meant believing it. With gossip fueling it, many residents subtly ostracized the mother and son.
Especially the families of the crew members who had died at sea with Shen Mingsong's father.
Some even threw trash at the Shen house. Only after Shen Mingsong grew taller did they stop.
After the accident, Shen Xiaonian's father failed to seize the family property and instead spread rumors everywhere. Tao Dongdong often heard her father curse that family and learned by imitation.
Children didn't care whether their words were filthy. One insult followed another. Shen Xiaonian even called over his friends, switching to dialect in his rage.
Song Erya could only half understand, guessing the insults were pretty nasty. Naturally, she sided with Tao Dongdong and even learned a few curses herself to fan the flames. She wasn't afraid of things getting ugly.
Shen Xiaonian's eyes turned red with anger. He didn't dare attack Tao Dongdong directly, so his gaze swept over the smallest one—Song Erya. Suddenly, he grabbed the braid at her chest and yanked hard.
Song Erya didn't even have time to react. She almost cried from the pain as he pulled, her scalp feeling like it would tear off.
"You little bastard!" Song Erya kicked at him. They tumbled to the ground, but she was overpowered, pinned down, and ended up with a mouthful of sand.
"Shen Xiaonian, you're shameless for bullying a girl!" Tao Dongdong shouted as she lunged forward, shoving him away and punching him.
Tao Dongdong's height wasn't wasted—her arms were strong and solid, pounding Shen Xiaonian until he bared his teeth in pain.
In the end, Shen Xiaonian scrambled up, crying and yelling that he would go tell his brother, then ran off to get reinforcements.
"Are you okay?" Tao Dongdong asked, pulling Song Erya up. Jiang Ling, who had been stunned, finally reacted and used her handkerchief to wipe the mud and tears from Song Erya's face.
"I'm fine." Song Erya held her head. It hurt enough to bring on reflex tears, but she couldn't very well wail like a real child.
The elastic band had snapped, her hair scattering loose. As she smoothed it, a small handful of broken strands fell into her palm. That brat had been vicious—she regretted not kicking him a few more times.
"What if Shen Xiaonian's brother comes?" Jiang Ling worried.
"Who's afraid of him?" Tao Dongdong pouted, glancing toward the fishing boats approaching on the sea. She grabbed Song Erya's hand. "That's my dad's boat. Let's go over there."
They went to find adults. Tao Dongdong's father was a lead fishing captain. Most people made their living by renting boats from his family. She didn't believe Shen Xiaonian or his brother would dare come over.
***
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