Back to the ‘70s: My Life as the Trouble-Maker's Bride

Stuart glanced at Annette with a hint of helplessness, then greeted the villagers around. Annette stayed quietly by his side, wearing a well-behaved smile, but inside she was thrilled. She noticed that the older generation affectionately called Stuart "Longlock." Those close to Stuart, his age, simply called him "Shixun" or "Second Brother," while the younger ones addressed him as "Er Ge" (Second Brother). In the end, Annette found "Longlock" the most endearing.

When Stuart led her to a small courtyard, Annette finally realized, "Whose home are we visiting? Shouldn't we bring a gift?"

Stuart said they wouldn't be eating at home. Since he hadn't come back for many years, it wouldn't be polite to arrive empty-handed. He glanced at Annette and replied, "No need. We're just stopping by briefly. Later, we'll go to my third great-uncle's house for dinner, then to the village store to buy some things."

Annette nodded and followed Stuart inside the courtyard.

The yard was much smaller than the Stuarts' family's, but it was neat and tidy. An elderly woman sat under the sun, mending a shoe sole with a needle and thread. Upon seeing Stuart, she quickly put down her work into a nearby bamboo basket and stood up.

"Second Brother, when did you get back? I heard from the village yesterday that you returned."

Annette recognized the woman's face and was not surprised — this was Wendy, Laura's mother. Laura resembled her mother closely and must have been a gentle, beautiful woman in her youth.

Up to this point, Stuart hadn't introduced Annette to the neighbors, but now, seeing Wendy, he said, "Auntie, this is my wife, Annette. Annette, this is Auntie Wendy, Laura's mother."

Annette didn't quite understand the intention behind Stuart's introduction but smiled obediently and greeted Wendy: "Hello, Auntie."

Wendy hesitated briefly, studied Annette a few times, then smiled warmly and nodded, "Good, good. Come sit down quickly. I'll pour you some tea."

Stuart stopped her politely, "No need. We still have to visit my third great-uncle's house."

He took an envelope from his pocket and handed it to Wendy. "Here's some money. Use it to fix the house so it doesn't leak when it rains."

Wendy was taken aback and quickly waved her hand. "No, no, Second Brother, why do you keep giving money every time you come back? You know I helped you out once, so you don't have to be so polite."

Stuart insisted, placing the money on the windowsill, "This is what I should do."

Annette suddenly felt happier watching this quiet man. It seemed he had no hidden feelings for Laura. If they had dated, he wouldn't be so openly giving money, nor would Wendy refuse so politely. After all, Wendy's daughter's youth had been held back by this relationship, so how could she be so friendly otherwise?

If they weren't involved, why did the rumors of their relationship persist? And why did people say Stuart should have married Laura?

Annette's clever mind spun the possibilities. Most likely, these stories were spread by Laura herself, or perhaps Laura took the gifts meant for Wendy and didn't explain them clearly, leading to misunderstandings over time.

Annette clicked her tongue, looking at the gentle and charming Laura in her mind's eye—such a "white lotus" type—and then at the silent Stuart. So, whatever she said was accepted?

Wendy seemed a bit worried. "You're always so polite, child."

In her heart, she still cared for Stuart, having watched him grow up. Quiet but thoughtful, disciplined yet flexible, and very responsible. She once hoped Stuart would be her son-in-law. When the village buzzed about Stuart and Laura's relationship, she had even asked Laura indirectly, who only gave a vague answer.

So Wendy had always thought Stuart and Laura would end up together—until she learned from the villagers that Stuart wasn't dating Laura, and she resented Stuart for a while.

Stuart said nothing more and left with Annette.

Wendy followed to the door and said, "If you're not in a hurry, come back for dinner tomorrow night. Laura said she'll be back."

Stuart didn't respond. "We'll see. We have to go out again tomorrow."

Wendy looked disappointed. "Alright then, take care and bring your wife to visit when you have time."

Annette followed Stuart to the village store, which was more like a grocery outpost. Inside was dim and smelled of soy sauce, vinegar, and miscellaneous goods, but the selection was surprisingly complete: biscuits, candies, even meat.

Stuart weighed three jin of pork belly and two jin of white liquor. The clerk recognized Stuart and joked, "Longlock, bringing your new wife to visit relatives? Don't forget to hand out wedding candies."

Annette suddenly remembered Stuart had told her to buy candies, but she had forgotten.

Stuart quickly picked up two jars of fruit candies with faded wrappers, grabbed a few, and handed them to the clerk, who took them, smiling. "Eating wedding candy won't cause toothaches. Wishing you a happy marriage and early children."

Annette wasn't sure what expression a new wife should show in such a moment, so she smiled politely and said thank you before leaving silently with the reserved Stuart.

Outside the store, a group of children played with mud in the open space. Stuart shared some candies with them before leading Annette away.

By lunchtime, the villagers all knew that Stuart had returned with a new wife and that they had distributed candies at the village entrance. The new wife was beautiful, just like someone out of a painting.

Annette wondered why Stuart went through such formalities since they wouldn't be staying long in the village and might even divorce after returning.

Thinking of divorce, her feelings became less intense.

They arrived at a modest, low mud-brick house in the middle of the village. The courtyard was surrounded by stacked firewood and had a water well in the center with a small square table beside it. The yard was similar in size to the Stuarts' family's, but was very neat.

As Stuart and Annette entered, a little yellow mud dog wagged its tail and barked.

Soon, an elderly woman holding a child came out. Seeing Stuart, she paused in surprise and exclaimed, "Is that Longlock back?"

Stuart nodded, wearing a gentle expression Annette had never seen before. "Great-Aunt, I'm back. Where is Great-Uncle?"

Great-Aunt seemed excited and nervously approached, holding the child. "Sit down, sit down. I heard from the village yesterday that you brought your wife back. Your Great-Uncle said you'd come these days and went up to the mountain early this morning to catch rabbits."

She put the child aside, wiped the bench with her sleeve for Annette, and said, "Longlock's wife, come sit. You're really beautiful—a new girl in the family."

Annette smiled and took the bench. "Thank you, Great-Aunt. I can manage on my own."

Great-Aunt helped Stuart and Annette sit, then busied herself pouring tea. "Our countryside is poor and dirty, please don't mind."

In their eyes, city people were superior, like the educated youth who came two years ago—many looked down on them.

Annette smiled, "It's quite nice. You're a diligent and clean person. The yard is very tidy."

Great-Aunt blushed, "Diligent? I just have nothing better to do at home."

She brought two bowls of plain boiled water and a sugar container, scooping a big spoonful of sugar into each bowl. Nearby, a little over two years old, the child clung to her great-grandmother's leg, unwilling to let go.

Annette, though new here, knew sugar was scarce and rationed in this era. Having so much sugar was a sign of honoring important guests.

Without waiting for Stuart, she picked up a few fruit candies from a cloth bag on the table and handed them to the child. "Little friend, have some candy, okay?"

She hesitated to say "Auntie gave you candy," feeling it might not sound quite right.

Great-Aunt laughed, bending down to pull the child's arm. "Little Joe, come on! Auntie gave you candy, take it!"

The child looked at Annette, shyly grabbed the candy from her palm, and hid behind Great-Aunt, peeking out with a timid face.

Great-Aunt finished her work and sat down, holding the child close. She invited Annette to drink the sweetened water and told Stuart, "This is Eric, my son. He's almost three. His mother was pregnant with him when Eric went to work at the coal mine in the north. The mine collapsed, and he never came back. His mother left after giving birth."

Stuart's brow furrowed in shock. "Eric is gone?"

Great-Aunt sighed. "Yes, such a tragic fate. It's been three years. Only left this poor child."

Stuart frowned deeply, clearly unable to accept the grim news.

Great-Aunt stroked the child's head. "This poor little thing is almost three but still can't talk."

Little Joe clumsily peeled the candy wrapper, paying no mind to the adults' talk. He popped the candy in his mouth and smiled happily at Great-Aunt.

Annette's heart swelled with sympathy. The child was truly pitiful. Observing him, she noticed he responded to sounds—when the dog barked, he turned his head alertly.

She looked at Great-Aunt and asked softly, "May I see Little Joe?"