Chapter Thirty-Four: A Classmate Comes to Share a Meal

Early in the morning, with the chill lingering in the air, Chen Xin nestled in her room with the chubby little one, both absorbed in drawing. They had picked up an old carved kang table at a secondhand market; Chen Xin then bought plaid and coarse cotton fabrics, sandwiched fresh cotton in between, and made a warm quilt for the table.

The chubby child wore a sweater and woolen socks, lying across the kang table, drawing. Chen Xin, too, was bundled in woolen clothes, her legs tucked beneath the warm quilt at the other end, translating instruction manuals.

Besides her major courses, she had self-studied two lesser-known foreign languages. Thanks to her foundation from her previous life, she learned quickly, and perhaps aided by the innate talent of her current body, she found herself extraordinarily sensitive to languages. Foreign tongues that once seemed impossibly difficult now became accessible; after processing them in this new mind, she could grasp listening and reading skills in a very short time. With a bit of focused practice, her reading and writing abilities developed at nearly twice the speed of others. That advantage was nothing to scoff at—if most students mastered two or three languages over four years of university, she could accomplish the same in just two years, and with far superior proficiency.

The translation job had been introduced by Cheng Jie’s friend. There were seven sets of documents, each priced according to its difficulty. The cheapest set, which Chen Xin charged for as a package, paid three hundred yuan for six pages. The most challenging one required translation into Spanish, paid at two hundred yuan per thousand characters.

These seven sets would take her about a month to complete, chiefly because the hardest was an academic paper meant for submission to an international journal, requiring her to verify each technical term. But once done, she would have secured two months’ worth of stable income. Many of her classmates also picked up freelance work, but few could match the quality of Chen Xin’s translations.

The academic load in their third year was not heavy; their major demanded self-driven effort, seeking out various practical experiences. Because she had a child at home, Chen Xin’s relationships with her classmates were only average. They had no shared social circle: while others enjoyed carefree student days, she already bore the responsibility of supporting a family.

Still, having average relationships did not mean she had no friends—at least three or five classmates often came by to visit, helping her clean the small courtyard or look after Zhang Zhang.

University resumed later than high school; their third year began on the twentieth of the first lunar month, so after the Lantern Festival, classmates started returning to campus.

Bai Mengqing was among the first to arrive back—a classmate with whom Chen Xin got along fairly well. Bai Mengqing’s father was a minor official in the provincial capital’s government, and her mother worked in cosmetics sales, giving her a better background than most. Yet Bai Mengqing had none of the arrogance typical of those with family connections, nor was she as poetic as her name suggested. Instead, she was a sharp-tongued, fiery-tempered beauty with the charisma of a queen.

The day she returned, she brought bags of specialty foods to Chen Xin—half for Zhang Zhang, the other half as a thank-you for Chen Xin.

“That last translation you did for me really helped my mom out; if you hadn’t caught those issues in time, she would’ve lost a lot. My mom told me she used that translated material to put that foreign agent right in his place. Now she’s wondering if you could help her with a few more translations—she wants to reach out to some suitable partners and see what collaborations might be possible.”

Bai Mengqing’s mother had originally only represented domestic cosmetic brands. Now, with the market opening up, she wanted to seize the opportunity to work with foreign brands and open authorized stores in China.

This was different from brand-exclusive shops; it was more like establishing her own company to represent several imported cosmetic and skincare lines, creating a comprehensive beauty business that combined skincare, makeup, and styling. She planned to open physical stores in major city centers, selling imported cosmetics directly so that locals, unable to travel abroad, could still buy trendy international products.

Bai Mengqing knew two foreign languages, but her real passion lay in business, and she wasn’t familiar with the more obscure languages. Her mother’s target brands were century-old names from countries with less commonly spoken languages, so she hoped Chen Xin could help with research and translation.

Chen Xin agreed after only a brief hesitation. Though she was busy with her herbal tea book, this wouldn’t take her much time. No one knew the strengths and weaknesses of famous international brands better than she did—not to mention her unparalleled knowledge of cosmetics and skincare. Of course, if some beauty blogger with the same advantage as her ever appeared, she would forgo the money, but as of now, there was none.

With Chen Xin’s agreement, Bai Mengqing immediately called her mother, then squeezed her own laptop onto the kang table.

“Sweetie, your godmother bought you a little table—why don’t you play over there for a while?”

Chen Xin’s bed was a large, old-fashioned carved canopy bed, big enough that the three of them could share it without feeling cramped.

Bai Mengqing was genuinely fond of Zhang Zhang and had even tried to persuade Chen Xin to move with her after graduation, but Chen Xin had refused without hesitation.

“Seriously, you and your nephew have no other family here—why stay? If you came back with me, my parents could help you with work and Zhang Zhang’s schooling would be easier too.”

“It’s convenient here as well,” Chen Xin replied, putting down her pen and stretching. “Our household registration was sorted out with help from the military district. Besides, my sister and brother-in-law’s graves are here. When Zhang Zhang is older, I’ll often take him to visit them. Someone has to remember them. As their only son, Zhang Zhang has a responsibility.”

“I just think this place, though developing, still lags behind my hometown. With your language skills, you could easily land a government translation job.”

But Bai Mengqing didn’t know that was the last thing Chen Xin wanted. Her dream had never changed: to record the beauty of food and scenery in words and pictures, to recommend her favorites to others, and to do her small part in preserving endangered crafts.

Fortunately, while Bai Mengqing didn’t quite understand Chen Xin’s choices, she never got upset or complained—on the contrary, she did everything she could to help Chen Xin realize her dreams.

“I might apply to study abroad,” Bai Mengqing said, twirling a pen between her fingers with a sigh. “My parents want me to go while they can still afford it. Whether I come back or not, having studied abroad always sounds impressive.”

It was around this time that a feverish wave of students studying abroad swept across the country at astonishing speed, and countless unqualified foreign institutions took advantage, scamming people left and right. Chen Xin remembered a former colleague mentioning her cousin who went abroad, failed to get a scholarship, and still went at her own expense. She fell for the wild promises of domestic agencies, paid a hefty sum, only to discover after two years that it wasn’t a real university, there’d be no degree, and she couldn’t even renew her passport. In the end, she slunk back home.

This gave Chen Xin an idea: perhaps Cheng Jie could team up with someone to open a study abroad agency. She’d heard at a recent gathering that two of Cheng Jie’s high school friends had gone overseas and hadn’t returned; they must know a lot about foreign educational institutions. If they were interested, the agency might just work.