Seeing that Yan Huan agreed, Changsheng’s mother went straight to Third Aunt and told her about her plans. Third Aunt was delighted at the idea. It wasn’t as if her job was being stolen, since one of her hands were paralyzed and none of her children had a knack for the craft, and her tools were just left to rust. She saw it as a good thing that someone who was familiar with haircutting was in the village. The villagers would all benefit from it.
Yan Huan was surprised when Changsheng’s mother brought home a set of haircutting tools. The tools were ratty, but still usable. She rinsed the tools with boiling water, then dumped the tools into a pot and boiled them for an hour. When that was done, all the tools were sparkly clean. They didn’t have disinfectant here, so she had to make do with boiling water.
Setting up the mini-salon wasn’t a tough task; all they had to do was partition a room in the house and put a chair in the middle of it. Changsheng’s mother rushed out a barber’s apron, and all Yan Huan had to do was slip it on.
There wasn’t washing or blowing services either, and everyone came after washing their hair, which saved Yan Huan a lot of trouble.
Yan Huan did not receive any payment in cash; but at the end of her first day of work, she received 5 eggs, a small bottle of vinegar, and a small bucket of oil from her three customers.
It wasn’t much, but it was everything to Yan Huan. She had nothing when she just arrived, but now she had eggs and oil, all of which she earned through hard work! At the very least, she wouldn’t feel so guilty at the dinner table next time.
That night, they had an additional dish on the table; stir-fried tomato and scrambled eggs.
“Eat more, Xiao Yan. You earned this through your hard work,” said Changsheng’s mother, putting some scrambled egg into Yan Huan’s bowl with her chopsticks.
“Thank you, Aunty,” said Yan Huan. She had earned the eggs herself, and she could now eat them proudly, unlike before, when she always felt guilty during mealtime.
Changsheng had a good, honest smile on his face, but in his heart, he was thinking about something else; With him in the fields and her cutting hair, life would surely get better! Who knows, they might even be able to leave the village someday!
Changsheng’s mother could only shake her head when she saw the silly look on her son’s face.
It was a one-sided love; Xiao Yan didn’t seem to be interested in him at all. To be honest, if Xiao Yan was willing, she wouldn’t mind her lame leg or ugly appearance at all! As Xiaosong’s mother said, a pretty woman is more likely to cheat! A homely woman would make a much better wife and companion.
She believed there was no need to rush, for love would surely blossom with time. Still, sometimes she couldn’t help but feel that her son deserves someone better, even though she didn’t mind Yan Huan’s ugliness.
Perhaps all humans are contradictory like this.
And so the three of them sat at the table, each occupied by their own thoughts.
Yan Huan slid out of her jacket and piled it neatly at the side. She was always very careful with this padded jacket, as though it might tear at any moment, since it was the only one she had. In truth, she had another one, but that one was worn out. She always wore that one when she was working, since it wouldn’t bother her even if it got torn.
The new one she was wearing belonged to Changsheng’s mother, and she would feel terrible if it got torn.
She snuggled in her blanket. The fire was burning, and the room was warm. She placed her hand on the bamboo sheet, warm from the fire, to thaw her fingers.
She took back her hands a while later, and examined them. The swelling had gone down a little, but a few cracks had formed on her hand. When she moved her fingers, the cracks widened and stung.
She carefully wrapped her hand with strips of cloth, hoping that it would help ease the pain. She knew, however, that she would have to unwrap them the next day, since she had to cook, wash the dishes, and cut hair. This was the only time she could wrap them up. Hopefully, it will speed up the recovery of her hands.
Her frostbites had begun acting up again. The winters here were way too cold, and she wondered when these cold days would come to an end.
She had been waiting for too long.
She hugged the blanket tighter, and tears began falling onto the pillows. Soon, she cried her heart out.
It was deep into the night, and quiet all around. Winter was not yet over, and the days were getting increasingly colder. Snow began to fall, as it did in the Sea City.
Lu Yi opened his eyes and turned the light up. He glanced at the little girl sleeping beside him, who was sniffing uncomfortably. His heart wrenched when he saw her tiny body.
She had been falling sick nonstop; it hadn’t even been days since her previous flu.
“What is it, baby?” asked Lu Yi as he carefully took her in his arms. He had been taking care of her ever since Yan Huan went missing, and the little girl no longer opened up to anyone but him.
Her hair was long enough to be braided now. She had a small cheek, sharp chin, and large watery eyes which were presently filled with tears. It seemed like a flood might erupt if she blinked.
Xunxun made an indignant pout and pointed at the window. That was the signal for Daddy to carry her there.
Lu Yi sat up, swathed her daughter in the blanket, and carried her to the window. He opened the curtains. The dark night was marked by bright lights, a scenery unique to the Sea City. Xunxun liked to look out of the window at the outside world. Lu Yi did not know if she was looking at the scenery, or looking for her mother. Whatever the reason, he decided to bring Xunxun to this place at night, where he and Yan Huan used to live. From the thirteenth floor, they didn’t have a direct view of the city, but Little Xunxun seemed to like the scenery.
Whenever she was sad and crying, Lu Yi would carry her to the window. He wondered what she was looking at with those eyes that looked so very like her mother’s. A spark would light up occasionally, like a firework blooming in the sky, before fading into the darkness of her eyes.
