'Whistle, whistle~'
Li Xiangdong whistled, shivered with satisfaction, pulled up his oversized shorts, and stepped out of the alley's public toilet.
A young body in its twenties was truly something. Starting from the same line, he had a 5cm head start over others. With the vigor of a young man, if he hadn't been quick to step back, that last stream of urine might've splashed onto his shorts!
Strolling through the alley, it was quiet since everyone was eating breakfast. The gray brick walls added to the calm.
Li Xiangdong's family lived in Shipboard Alley, in Dongcheng District, under Jianguomen Street's jurisdiction—properly within Beijing's Second Ring Road. The alley, 525 meters long and 7 meters wide, was named after a shipyard that once stood there, or so the story went.
Shipboard Alley was split into north and south, the 7-meter-wide lane acting as a dividing line.
North Shipboard Alley had neat courtyards and wide lanes, mostly single-family homes. Its residents were often old aristocrats or former officials, many of whom had their properties confiscated during turbulent times. Some were now being returned, but others weren't so lucky. Holding property deeds, they couldn't reclaim homes rented out by the neighborhood office. They'd cause a scene every few days, but neither police nor officials could resolve it. "The people are in charge now. I've paid rent, so moving out? No way. What can you do about it?"
Li Xiangdong's family lived in South Shipboard Alley, home to ordinary folks. Most courtyards were crowded compounds, housing six or seven families at least, or twenty to forty at most. Private sheds and add-ons cluttered the yards, making them cramped.
His family, though, owned an entire courtyard—a rare feat in South Shipboard Alley!
As he stepped through the gate, a young woman with delicate features, a short ponytail, and a child in her arms approached. It was his wife, holding his little daughter.
Li Xiangdong froze, unsure how to speak.
"Ah~ Ah-da~"
The tiny radish-head in her arms babbled at him, waving chubby arms, flashing a few baby teeth in a silly grin, drool dripping from her mouth.
The woman pulled a handkerchief from her pocket, wiped the child's drool, and spoke first, "Mother told me to find you. Hurry and eat, or she'll start nagging again."
Her tone was calm, her face neutral, not particularly warm toward Li Xiangdong.
This was his wife, Zhou Yuqin, a year younger than him.
After junior high, Li Xiangdong failed to enter high school and joined the "Up to the Mountains, Down to the Countryside" movement, assigned to a village in Changping, Beijing's suburbs. With two older brothers over a decade his senior, the family had no shortage of labor, so he'd never done heavy work growing up.
Used to being a hands-off boss, he couldn't even carry a shoulder pole. In the village, he became a laughingstock, relegated to cutting pig grass with the women and kids. Still, his situation made him somewhat popular. Villagers knew his family was in Beijing, not far away, so he wouldn't abandon a wife and kids to return to the city.
When it came time to marry, a matchmaker introduced him to a girl from the neighboring Zhou village—Zhou Yuqin. At their first meeting, she likely agreed to the marriage because of his good looks. In rural life, what else could she see in a guy who couldn't even carry a pole?
Early in their marriage, Zhou Yuqin was cheerful, but she soon realized she'd married a lazy loafer who earned fewer work points than her. They survived in the village and returned to the city to leech off their parents, thanks to support from both families.
Zhou Yuqin had a good temper, never complaining despite grievances, keeping everything bottled up. Years later, when Li Xiangdong squandered the money from selling the courtyard, she only cried in her room for days. After that, her health declined.
She slaved for Li Xiangdong her whole life, rarely enjoying peaceful days, and passed away before sixty.
Others called him lucky for living off his wife. Back then, he thought they were mocking him, but now he saw the truth in it.
If he wasn't lucky, could he have been reborn?
Feeling guilty, Li Xiangdong stared at his wife for a while. Seeing her stern face, he knew she was upset.
He understood her attitude. From his memories, he pinpointed his rebirth timeline. He'd been back in the city with his wife and kids for over a month, yet he'd done nothing but loaf around, ignoring the job the neighborhood office arranged.
He could brush it off—his parents were his safety net. But Zhou Yuqin couldn't. She and the kids still had rural household registrations, without even monthly grain rations.
"Ma's got a sharp tongue, but she means no harm. You know, all bark and no bite," he said.
Seeing Zhou Yuqin had no intention of responding, he scratched his nose awkwardly and changed the subject. "Where's Xiaohai?"
Li Xiaohai, his eldest son, was three, too young for school, always trailing his older siblings.
"In the house."
"You free today? How about after breakfast, I take you out? There's plenty in Beijing you haven't seen."
"Don't feel like it."
Noticing her frown and reluctance to engage, Li Xiangdong's mind raced. Trying to please her, he said, "Take a break. Let me hold our girl."
He took the child from her arms, kissed his daughter's chubby cheeks twice, and walked into the courtyard, teasing, "Xiaoqi (Little Seven), call me Daddy."
"Da... hit you..."
The girl's tiny hands patted him, light and painless.
His daughter's full name was Li Xiaozhu, just over a year old, seventh among the family's kids. Learning to talk, she'd likely been spoiled by her grandma since returning to the city, always threatening to "hit" people.
In his past life, he'd shirked his fatherly duties, causing his son Xiaohai to grow up rebellious, always clashing with him. His daughter Xiaozhu was better, but too much like her mother, marrying a deadbeat.
Li Xiangdong couldn't stand his son-in-law, only visiting when he missed his grandson. His kids were filial to their mother, especially Xiaozhu, calling daily for at least half an hour, which annoyed him whenever the phone rang.
After his wife passed, the kids rarely smiled around him.
Wait... something clicked. It had been too long, but he recalled that two years from now, Zhou Yuqin had a third pregnancy that ended in miscarriage. She had no morning sickness, but a fall while working caused bleeding. At the hospital, they learned the two-month-old fetus was unstable and lost.
Family planning began in 1971 and became national policy in 1982. By his past life's timeline, that third pregnancy fell right at this juncture.
Forget it, he thought. If fate decreed a third child, he'd take his wife to her parents' village to hide. To be safe, he'd prepare for hefty fines in advance.
"Down... down..."
Li Xiaozhu squirmed in his arms, wiggling her bottom, wanting to walk.
Li Xiangdong pinched her nose. "You can barely walk. Why get down? Keep fussing, and I'll spank you."
Thinking he was playing, Xiaozhu shook her head, dodging his hand, giggling.
"When you grow up, be good to your dad. When you marry, I'll be old. Call me daily, at least an hour, got it?"
Her response? "Hit... hit you..."
"Hey, you little stinker, you're hopeless."
"Stink... want..."
Hearing their mismatched banter, Zhou Yuqin shot him a side-eye, thinking her husband was acting crazy. What did a toddler know? And their family's situation? An hour-long call daily? Even millionaires couldn't afford those phone bills.