Sweet Wife in My Arms

Chapter 304: Found An Uncle

She quickly discovered that the big cities had earned their reputations as money-making machines. Back in her village, she could work an entire year and end up with less than a dollar for her efforts, but here in the city, she could earn several dollars a day just by picking up garbage. She saved the money she earned; she would take the money home, so that her brother would be able to go to school. She was disappointed in her family, but at the end of the day, her mother and brother were still her family.

She knew that her mother did not love her as much as her brother, but she also knew that it was because they were poor. If they had money, her mother would love her just as much.

She cast those thoughts aside. She could not go home for the time being, so she decided to make the most of her situation and try to earn as much money as possible. Earning money was easy, here in the city.

Yan Huan lowered the sack on her shoulder to the floor. She got out her phone, took a selfie, and sent it to Lu Yi.

She added a caption under the photo of her fluffing her hair and laughing: “How do I look?”

Lu Yi got out his phone and swiped to see the new message: it was a photo of a young beggar with a charming, goofy smile. He took a closer look and was surprised to see that it was actually Yan Huan.

He shook his head. “What on earth is she doing?” But he pressed the “Like” button on the photo all the same—she was still Yan Huan, and he did not care what she looked like.

Yan Huan tossed her phone to Yi Ling; her 10-minute break was up, and it was time to shoot the next scene. She was on a roll, and her energy and enthusiasm had spread to the whole production team—they were all in top form and raring to go.

This was why Yi Ling often remarked that Yan Huan was truly a force of nature when she was on top of her game.

The next scene began with Qinghua selling the second batch of bottles she had picked up from the streets; she had collected quite a number of them as she was a diligent and efficient worker. She also found a necklace that looked like it was made of real gold. She considered turning it over to the police, but she could not bring herself to part with it. Instead, she wore it around her neck and kept it hidden under her thick layer of winter clothes. She planned on giving it to her mother when she finally made her way home; she wanted her mother to look pretty in nice jewelry.

It had been some time since she escaped, but Tong Ye and her partners-in-crime had not come looking for her. Qinghua guessed that that meant she was in the clear, but she kept her guard up all the same. It was better to be safe than sorry, after all.

That night, Qinghua was on her way back to her hiding place to sleep when she tripped over something on the ground and fell flat on her face.

“Who tripped me?!” She struggled to her feet and turned to look behind her. To her great surprise, she saw a human-shaped figure lying on the ground.

She was too kind.

She was too soft-hearted.

She dragged the man to her “lodgings”—which was just a fancy way of describing the tiny hole in the wall she was living in. Inside, she had stored her belongings, which consisted of her bedroll and the buns she had just bought. She was smart enough to keep her money on herself at all times, however.

She had intended to wait for the man to wake up, and then throw him out once she was sure he was all right.

But things didn’t go as planned—when the man finally woke up, she discovered that he was an idiot. Not only that, he devoured all the buns she bought with her savings. When she saw what he had done, she sat on the floor and cried into her shabby bag.

It had been three days’ worth of food, and she had lost it all to this ravenous wolf.

The half-wit had gone to sleep right after eating, and had even had the audacity to let out a long burp in his sleep.

After that, Qinghua made several attempts to move elsewhere. She no longer wanted anything to do with the man; she could not afford to feed someone who could eat three days’ worth of food in one go. But she could not bring herself to do it—her conscience brought her back every time she tried to ditch him and move on.

She sighed in resignation.

Together with the nameless, dull-witted man—whom she had taken to calling “Uncle” because he seemed a lot older than her—Qinghua began their itinerant life together, moving from place to place to get Uncle safely back home. Uncle suffered from amnesia, but he remembered in which direction his house was located.

He could point in the direction of where he wanted to go, but aside from that he was more or less mentally incapable of taking care of himself.

That was how a resilient and tough-as-nails woman and an addle-brained Uncle whose face was obscured with facial hair began their journey home. They fed themselves by selling the bottles and other junk they picked up throughout their journey; it was a difficult life, but they did not go hungry or thirsty.

One day, Qinghua left Uncle in their temporary lodgings for the day as she went out to make her fortune—which was just a fancy way of saying “collecting and selling bottles for a pittance.”

She was busy picking up bottles when she heard what sounded like the wailing of a young child.

The wailing was so loud and tragic she wondered whether someone was beating their child. Curious, she traced the wailing back to its origin, and saw a child sitting on the ground, crying loudly. A man was standing next to the child, but he did not seem bothered by the child’s incessant crying. He was on the phone.

Qinghua overheard him say: “Don’t worry, I have a quality ‘product’ this time—only four years old, doesn’t know a thing beyond crying for ‘papa’ and ‘mama.’ Not a bad looker either, so you better find someone willing to shell out the big dough.”

The person on the other end of the line said something in response, to which the man nodded vigorously. He hung up, slipped the phone in his pocket, and carried the child to a public toilet.

Qinghua chewed nervously on the back of her hand as she debated whether to save the child.

She wanted to walk away as it was none of her business, but she imagined herself in the parents’ shoes and realized that losing her own child would break her heart. And besides, the man was clearly a trafficker. Human traffickers were despicable scum.

Qinghua put down her sack of bottles and stealthily followed after them. She hid at the entrance as she watched the man warn the child not to move from the spot; he threatened to beat the child if his orders were not followed.

The frightened, teary-eyed child stood rooted to the spot, too scared to move.

Satisfied, the man entered the cubicle and shut the door.

Qinghua dashed into the toilet. She grabbed the child with one hand and covered the child’s mouth with the other. There was no one else around to see what she had done; she grabbed the child and ran back to her hiding place, abandoning her sack of bottles.

“What’s this?” Uncle reached out and poked the child’s tiny face.

The child was not afraid of Uncle. The tiny tot tugged on Uncle’s beard curiously, as though it were a toy.

Qinghua’s heart ached for the child. She bought bread and eggs for the child to eat.

The hungry child immediately devoured the food. Uncle swallowed heavily as he watched the child eat; despite his muddled brain, he knew better than to steal food from a child.

Qinghua took out a bun and broke it in half. She gave the bigger piece to Uncle, and ate the smaller piece.

Qinghua felt like crying. They were tight on money, and she had abandoned the bottles she had collected that day to save the child, which meant that she would not be earning anything that day. She had had to dip into her meagre savings just to buy food for the child.

But when she saw the tiny child, she knew that it had been worth it. That night, they huddled together in their lonely hiding place for warmth; they did not have pillows, so Qinghua slept on Uncle’s thigh, while the child slept on hers.

The next morning, Qinghua woke up bright and early. She left the child in Uncle’s care and hit the streets in search of bottles and information on the child’s parents. She kept her eyes and ears open for any news of missing children.

But her efforts were in vain. She asked around, but no one had heard of a missing child. She did not dare attract too much attention with her questions, either, because she was afraid that the kidnapper was still around, looking for an opportunity to steal the child again. She decided to call it a day; before heading back, however, she shelled out her hard-earned money to buy milk and bread for the child.

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