He acted purely on instinct, as if his hands were faster than everything else, almost like a little animal.

But animals don’t have to think about the consequences; humans do.

Zheng Zhong kept pondering the reasons behind his actions, but couldn’t figure out how to give the biscuits to Shen Qiao.

From his limited judgment, it seemed like Shen Qiao was a lot like him—she didn’t like to take advantage of others. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have given him biscuits every day. It seemed like there was a sort of exchange happening, where food was given in return for work points.

Was he supposed to eat them himself?

What kind of family could buy two pounds of biscuits all at once?

Zheng Zhong had never heard of such a thing, nor had he seen it before. Even his brother, who lived comfortably in the county, hadn’t had such good fortune.

Because these biscuits didn’t need a ticket, they cost two yuan per pound. Even the rationed grains would be enough for three pounds, considering the tight food supplies in the city, where each month’s supply was limited.

Zheng Zhong had never thought much about things like this. He wasn’t particularly sharp, and his perception of other people’s feelings wasn’t the best.

Right now, he sensed that his feelings toward Shen Qiao were a little different, but he couldn’t put his finger on exactly why. The changes were still too subtle to form a clear concept in his mind.

He sighed, continuing to walk along the narrow country road, which was busy with people heading off to work.

Some of the people he passed knew him, offering casual greetings, but most ignored him. After all, who wanted to deal with a cold response?

He didn’t have great relations with most people in the village. There was a history from years ago, but that didn’t stop him from living here. After all, he had nowhere else to go. His three rundown houses were the only thing he could call home.

He opened the gate to his yard, pulling out the things he’d just bought: two brand new bars of soap, the same kind that Shen Qiao used; two pounds of biscuits, the same kind she had given him; a pair of black shorts, the elastic waistband a bit tight, and a small piece of pink floral fabric.

It was only about the size of two palms, bought at the counter during a clearance sale. He’d paid quickly without thinking about how he would use it.

Most things in his home were old or things he had made himself, though his skills were rough, like something an apprentice might produce. He glanced at the walls and the ceiling, thinking that the fabric really didn’t seem to fit in here.

Looks like it was meant for someone else, he thought to himself.

Just as he was thinking this, there was a knock on the door.

It was Shen Qiao’s first time at his house. She knocked softly, saying, “Is anyone home?”

Her voice was light and gentle, almost as if she was afraid of disturbing someone.

Zheng Zhong, feeling more and more uneasy about his shabby house, reluctantly walked over to open the door.

There was only a small crack in the door. Shen Qiao thought he didn’t want to let her in, and her face turned awkward. “I thought you hadn’t gone to work, so I was wondering if something happened.”

If something had happened, it wasn’t anything major.

Zheng Zhong couldn’t explain, so he simply said, “I went to buy pants.”

So he’d gone to the commune, but now his current task seemed unnecessary.

Shen Qiao couldn’t help but say, “I was thinking of making you something new.”

She immediately regretted saying it and covered her mouth, wondering if there was any way to take it back.

But Zheng Zhong heard her clearly. “I didn’t bring a ticket.”

Without a ticket, nothing could be bought. He had returned empty-handed.

He had made a wasted trip, but Shen Qiao felt somewhat relieved. “I’m really quick with my hands. It’ll be done in two days.”

Zheng Zhong hadn’t made anything himself, but he had an idea of how long it would take. “No rush.”

He added, “Wait a moment.”

Shen Qiao stood outside, thinking that his hospitality wasn’t great. He should have invited her in, but she understood his temperament. He didn’t seem like someone who was very aware of social norms.

She idly poked at the doorframe, her eyes focused on the floor, feeling awkward.

Zheng Zhong, on the other hand, was struggling to find a way to give her the biscuits, and now he had the perfect excuse to do so.

Even though they were wrapped in oil paper, he could still smell the scent.

Shen Qiao immediately noticed the weight of the package from the size of the wrapping and quickly waved her hand. “I don’t want them.”

Zheng Zhong wasn’t willing to let her refuse. “Take them.”

His insistence was a bit forceful, yet it had a certain awkward, endearing quality.

Shen Qiao wondered if her eyes were playing tricks on her. She rubbed her eyes and said, “Is this your way of thanking me for taking care of you?”

Taking care of him? Zheng Zhong thought, if he had to count, maybe it was just the two eggs from this morning.

He didn’t see his labor as something to be repaid. After all, when a person had good physical strength, tasks like this were the easiest thing in the world.

His strength could be exchanged for money, but sometimes it wasn’t worth much.

He thought a lot about it, but it was hard to put into words. All he could say was, “Eat them.”

It seemed like that was all he knew how to say.

Shen Qiao didn’t see any politeness in his eyes, but she still smiled. “You really don’t need to.”

Zheng Zhong learned from her that when something is set in motion, it’s hard to change. He unwrapped the oil paper, rubbed his hands on his pants, picked up a piece, and held it out to her mouth. “Eat.”

Now that it was right by her mouth, how could she not eat it?

Shen Qiao teased him, “Learning bad habits instead of good ones.”