Chen Qiao had a total of seven yuan and fifty cents on him, which was already considered a fortune among elementary school students.
He spent fifty cents at noon to buy a bottle of soda that had turned slushy with ice, sucked the drink dry, then crunched on the ice chunks—pure satisfaction.
Among his peers, he had a decent amount of pocket money.
Usually, if his sister got an allowance, so did he—though her allowance was typically double his.
The family philosophy was to “raise daughters lavishly.”
His sister truly was far more outstanding than him.
Her grades needed no mention, and she also did more housework and farm chores than he did.
She was thrifty too—almost filling up two golden piggy banks by now.
Chen Qiao often borrowed money from his sister—usually just an early withdrawal.
When their father handed out the next round of pocket money, his sister would automatically deduct what he’d borrowed.
She never had to chase him down for repayment.
His sister was basically his pocket money bank.
Chen Qiao carried Chen Xinyu around to the front of the gambling den, which was disguised as a barbershop-cum-convenience store.
The owner was a middle-aged woman with a limp, and behind the shop came the unmistakable clamor of a gambling scene.
“Bet big, bet small!”
Mixed in with the noisy crowd was the voice of his second aunt—Xinyu’s grandma.
A female voice among a bunch of men stood out easily.
If you got close enough, you could even catch a strong whiff of cigarette smoke.
In this town, there were no fewer than nine out of ten of these small gambling dens—more than internet cafés.
This was the peak era of gambling in the town.
People would gamble away everything—loans with sky-high interest rates, even pawning off their homes, wives, and children.
Violent fights and bloody brawls had broken out more than once.
With the nationwide anti-crime crackdown and the wave of people leaving to find jobs elsewhere, these gambling spots slowly faded away.
Only a few tiny mahjong dens remained, with some elderly folks playing cards in pavilions to pass the time.
Underground lottery games were also popular in town.
His second uncle was hooked on it.
He had a bunch of shady friends and even bought a so-called “exclusive insider guide” and spent all day studying it, never thinking of getting a real job.
The one time he actually won, he squandered it all on food and drinks.
When the limping shopkeeper saw Chen Qiao and Chen Xinyu, she smiled and came out to greet them.
“Xinyu, your little uncle brought you to buy snacks again?”
“Mhm.”
Chen Xinyu gave a slight nod.
The shopkeeper knew them well.
Second Aunt often brought Xinyu here when she came to gamble, just dumped her in the store and let her watch TV by herself to pass the time.
On the shelves were all kinds of familiar snacks—crispy noodles with collectible cards, odd little squirt gun candy toys, and an array of spicy strips, sold at ten cents apiece or one yuan for a diamond-shaped pack.
The most expensive bubble gum was “Da Da Bubble Gum,” which had even been advertised on CCTV.
The cheapest watermelon-flavored bubble gum cost just ten cents for several pieces.
The most expensive lollipop was Alpenliebe, while the cheap no-name “Zai Zai Lollipops” went for ten cents a stick.
As a kid, one of those seemed huge, but now it looked so small.
There were also Pop Rocks, White Rabbit milk candies, and many others.
Chen Xinyu stretched out her tiny hand and, after hesitating for a while, finally chose a milk-flavored lollipop.
With a grand gesture, Chen Qiao grabbed four more.
“Little Uncle, you bought too many. One is enough for me.”
“I want to eat too.”
There was no need to call Second Aunt home to cook or anything.
Once she got into gambling, she forgot about everything else and pushed all responsibilities aside.
If she was winning, fine.
But if she was losing, she’d turn around and scold you harshly.
Worse still, if calling her ended up breaking her winning streak, she’d blame you for jinxing her luck.
Most days, Xinyu just ate whatever was around with Chen Qiao’s grandmother, and occasionally had meals at Chen Qiao’s home.
“Come eat dinner at my place tonight.”
“Okay.”
Chen Xinyu carefully unwrapped the candy and gently popped the round lollipop into her mouth.
They were getting closer to home.
There was no iron gate at the entrance, just a one-meter-high wooden fence to keep the free-range chickens and ducks from the neighborhood from wandering in and pooping inside.
“Little Uncle, why aren’t you eating your lollipop?”
“How can I eat while holding you?”
“Then you can have mine. Ahh…”Chen Xinyu pushed her lollipop straight into Chen Qiao’s mouth.
“Is it yummy, Little Uncle?”
“Yeah, it’s really good.”
It wasn’t just because someone else had eaten it first—it actually did taste sweeter than he expected.
Eating candy made Chen Qiao feel even thirstier.
“I think it’s really yummy too… it’s just that it costs money.”
The bright, cheerful expression on Chen Xinyu’s face disappeared instantly.
Her little face turned somber, eyebrows furrowed.
“Sigh…”Chen Qiao popped the lollipop back into Xinyu’s mouth, pinched her cheek, and said, “Smile more. You look ugly with that expression.”
Even such a young child couldn’t go a few words without bringing up money.
She should’ve been carefree.
But poor kids grow up fast.
Second Uncle and Second Aunt argued all the time, constantly blaming each other for everything.
Cousin Chen Huai was working far away, and in front of—Sometimes Chen Huai, their cousin who worked far away, did send money home—just like one of those
“Sanhe Gods” (migrant workers known for drifting and surviving on minimal wages)—but it always got intercepted by Second Uncle and Second Aunt.
None of it was ever spent on Chen Xinyu.
Their dad had considered stepping in: If you can’t afford to raise her, or don’t want to, let us take care of her.
But Second Uncle was too concerned about saving face.
He and Chen Qiao’s dad even got into a big argument, which made Xinyu cry, and in the end, nothing came of it.
Chen Qiao still didn’t have much physical strength.
After holding Xinyu for a while, his arms started to ache, and he had to put her down, holding her little hand instead as he pushed open the wooden gate and walked into the house.
It wasn’t dark outside yet, but the room was dim.
Linshu flipped on the light switch, and the house lit up with a warm, yellow glow—they were still using an old, easy-to-burn tungsten filament bulb.
The dining table was a typical eight-immortals table.
The walls were plastered with award certificates—almost all of them his sister’s, one for each year, from kindergarten up to now in eighth grade.
Some of the older ones had turned yellow and brittle.
Chen Qiao only had one: “Outstanding Young Pioneer” certificate from last year.
He’d basically lucked into that one, much like his “Civic Volunteer Team” badge.
The truly outstanding ones, like Wu Xinyu, got the “Three Good Student” award, and the class monitor got “Excellent Student Leader.”
In the kitchen, there was a wood-burning stove and a coal-burning stove using honeycomb briquettes.
Not many appliances, but the most eye-catching was the Haier double-door fridge, newly purchased this year thanks to a “Home Appliances to the Countryside” subsidy program.
There was no water heater.
In winter, they heated bathwater in a metal tank beside the coal stove, sometimes adding hot water from a kettle.
When Chen Qiao was younger, he and his sister used to bathe together in a big red plastic basin.
It saved water, and their mom was always too busy.
Before he could bathe himself, it was his sister who scrubbed him down—and she didn’t go easy.
She rubbed so hard it felt like his skin was about to come off.
Looking back, it felt like just yesterday.
The last time they bathed together was probably last winter.
Chen Qiao had already started feeling embarrassed—boys and girls were different, after all—and he wanted to keep some distance.
But his sister didn’t seem to care, treating it as normal.
Now that she was in middle school and her body was starting to develop…Damn it.
Why are those mental images so vivid?
Chen Qiao shook his head forcefully, trying to clear out all the messy thoughts.
Chen Xinyu looked up at him with a puzzled expression, not understanding what her little uncle was doing.
He picked up the kettle and poured himself a bowl of cool boiled water, downing it in big gulps.
Water spilled everywhere, soaking his chin.
But it quenched his thirst, and his mind gradually cleared.
Since Chen Qiao got home earlier from school, his job was to wash the rice and start cooking.
His sister would take over to stir-fry dishes when she got back.
The two of them ate first.
By the time their mom got off work, his sister would already be heading back to school for evening self-study.
As for their dad—he came and went as he pleased.
But oddly enough, his dad was actually the best cook in the house.
Their rice cooker was an old mechanical model with a lever switch—a bit of a relic.
It didn’t have many features.
As long as the water level was a finger-joint above the rice, that was good enough.
In the vegetable basket, there was water spinach, cucumber, and green beans.
In the fridge, there was a piece of lean meat and a slab of pork belly.
The vegetable cabinet had leftovers from lunch: sauerkraut stir-fried with fatty pork, the leftover water spinach, and a yellow enamel basin with lard—a nationwide standard design.
Chen Qiao washed and prepared the ingredients, wondering whether he should, as he had done in the past—or rather, as he planned for the future—cook the meal and wait for his sister to come home.
After all, Chen Qiao had lived alone for a while before.
To save money and avoid takeout, he started cooking for himself.
When he became a full-time streamer and moved in with his sister, he often cooked so that his sister could have hot meals after work and just rest.
But after thinking it over, he decided against it.
It would seem too sudden.
His sister was too smart and would definitely notice something off.
It wasn’t that Chen Qiao couldn’t share the secret of his rebirth with her.
If he couldn’t even trust his sister, then living this second life wouldn’t be worth it.
But if he told her now that he had been reborn, his sister would think he had read too many online novels.
She would feel he wasn’t the same brother anymore and might even go tell their mom about it.
The countryside was still very superstitious, even though their mom was a doctor.
It didn’t completely stop them from following old beliefs.
If a child fell ill, possibly after being frightened or encountering something unlucky, and they got a high fever with cold sweats in the middle of the night, they might go to the hospital, but if no improvement was seen, they would turn to diviners to check the dates or burn incense.
Sometimes, it actually worked, giving a feeling that couldn’t be explained—maybe it was the medicine taking effect, or maybe it was something else.
After all, if he could be reborn, there were plenty of things that couldn’t be explained by logic.
Chen Qiao planned to subtly influence his sister, and when the time was right, he would reveal everything to her.
“Chen Qiao, is the food ready? Xinyu is here too.”
The first thing Chen Feifei asked when she came home was this.
“Aunt, hello.”
“Sis, you’re back!”
Chen Qiao looked at Chen Feifei, who was wearing her middle school uniform.
Her delicate, fair face was striking, glowing under the light.
She had a simple ponytail, and her youthful, fresh appearance made her look like a child in Chen Qiao’s eyes, considering his mental age.
But without realizing it, Chen Qiao rushed over to his sister and hugged her tightly.
He rubbed his face against her chest like a child throwing a tantrum, but in reality, it was his sister who was holding him—since he was shorter than her.
The eldest sister is like a mother.
During the hardest times at home, coupled with the academic pressures, Chen Qiao had considered ending it all to relieve his sister of her burdens.
“You’re dead, what meaning does it have for me to be alive? Even if it’s for me, you need to live well, do you understand?”
Chen Qiao had managed to hold on, but he couldn’t help but wonder how his counterpart in the original world and Xin Yu were faring.
The thought of leaving his sister alone made him hold her even tighter, and he felt an urge to cry.
“What’s wrong? Did someone bully you at school? Was it a girl?”
Chen Feifei patted Chen Qiao’s back and asked.
Although Chen Qiao was short, he had Xin Yu’s father, a gangster cousin, and his friends were on good terms with him.
As a result, boys who liked to bully others dared not target him.
Instead, it was the girl sitting behind him who kept poking his back with a pen, dirtying his school uniform.
Eventually, the teacher had to change his seat, which was considered a great humiliation in Chen Qiao’s life.
“No, I just suddenly felt like hugging you,” Chen Qiao said, his face turning a bit red as he touched his nose and took half a step back.
His face had just brushed against his sister’s chest.
Even through the thin summer school uniform and her bra, there was a distinct sense of touch, along with a faint yet familiar scent of a young girl, reminiscent of orchids or musk
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