My Wife Came From A Thousand Years Ago

Chapter 134: Pick it up when you have time

At Jiang City West Station, there was a pedestrian bridge.

Underneath the bridge, sheltered from the wind and rain, there was a lot of foot traffic. Such areas typically had strict patrols, and you wouldn’t usually find vagrants or beggars there. But every rule has its exception. Under this particular bridge, there was an old man in his fifties. He carried a tattered bag that seemed to have come from a trash bin, and he limped around the area.

He didn’t fit the image of a typical beggar. He didn’t place a broken bowl on the ground to solicit alms, nor did he ask anyone for money. Yet, he wasn’t just a wanderer either—he had no money, no income, and was often helped by others.

“They say he used to be quite well-off, working as a construction contractor—a lucrative job back then. But then there was an accident, and his back was injured. The construction site didn’t compensate him, the project was abandoned, and the developers fled without paying him.

“Most of the workers under him were either from his hometown or people who had followed him for years. He couldn’t let them down and ended up using his own savings to pay their wages. Then, alone, he came to Jiang City to chase the developers. But his injury made walking difficult—he had to rest every few steps. He finally made it here, only to find the developers long gone.”

“And then what?”

“There’s no ‘then.’ That’s just how misfortune works. It’s not about the times or effort—it just happened.”

Xu Qing stood at a roadside stall, planning to buy some candied chestnuts for Jiang He, who was with him. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the right season, so he opted for a piece of sugarcane instead, asking the vendor to peel and cut it into segments.

The vendor’s knife was sharp, slicing effortlessly through the tough sugarcane skin. While waiting, Xu Qing glanced toward the West Station, his expression calm.

“He spent months petitioning at the city hall, even made it into the newspapers, but nothing came of it. When he decided to go back home, his wife and child didn’t recognize him anymore. The family had moved, and he couldn’t even reach them by phone.”

The image of the man showing him an old newspaper with a smile from his grimy bag flashed in Xu Qing’s mind. He sighed softly. “People…”

“How do you know all this?” Jiang He, now holding the neatly cut sugarcane, handed a piece to Xu Qing, curious about the story.

“We were roommates for a night. He gave me half of his foam mat to sleep on, saying the ground was too cold, and I might get sick without something to lie on.

“It wasn’t very big—just enough for him to curl up on. But he split it in two and shared it with me. It was late fall and freezing that night. I was so grateful I spent my last dozen or so yuan on two small bottles of liquor, and we drank together under the bridge, chatting through the night.”

“So, you know him?” Jiang He asked, enjoying the sweetness of the sugarcane.

“Sort of. I went back a few times afterward to buy him a burger. But one day, he was gone. Maybe he went home.”

“Going home is good.”

“Or maybe he died.”

The afternoon sun of late March was warm. Jiang He followed beside Xu Qing, carrying a bag of sugarcane and carefully spitting out the chewed remains into another bag.

“Have you ever wandered like that?” she asked.

“No. That’s a story for another day,” Xu Qing replied, continuing along familiar streets. After turning onto a small alley, they stopped in front of an old bookstore. He paused at the entrance, then stepped inside with Jiang He.

In this era, physical books were in decline, and such small bookstores had few patrons. Fortunately, the shop was owned by the proprietor, so apart from utilities, it wasn’t costly to maintain. The store primarily sold workbooks to students and parents from nearby schools, which kept it afloat.

The vibrant scenes Xu Qing remembered from his childhood were long gone. Now, only large bookstores attracted customers searching for various books.

The elderly owner, who clearly didn’t recognize Xu Qing, adjusted his reading glasses from behind the counter and greeted them without standing up. “Looking for anything specific?”

“Just browsing,” Xu Qing replied casually, strolling through the modestly sized store. Most of the shelves were filled with old books. In the past, the store had rented books as well, though it was unclear if that was still an option. Xu Qing fondly remembered borrowing half of the Complete Works of Jin Yong from here, reading about heroic adventures by the bookshelves, and later renting the rest with his saved-up allowance to enjoy with Qin Hao.

The bookshelves, though aged, were tidy and well-maintained, with books arranged neatly. One side held older books, while another featured workbooks like Five-Year College Entrance Exam Questions. A corner shelf displayed professional reference books and general reading materials. The lowest shelf had comics and pocket-sized storybooks.

“Pick out a few you like to take home,” Xu Qing suggested to Jiang He, casually flipping through a yellowed volume.

Books were the ladder of human progress, but Jiang He stood to gain far more from them than Xu Qing—provided she could understand them.

A sensible person wouldn’t pick a book they couldn’t comprehend just to show off, and Jiang He, being sensible, soon found something she could understand and wanted to read.

The shopkeeper didn’t disturb their quiet browsing. After over half an hour, when a shadow fell over the counter, he looked up again.

“These...” Xu Qing placed his selection on the counter, then took the pile Jiang He was holding, flipping through them briefly. “Let’s skip this one.”

The book he held was The Romance of the Tang Dynasty’s Twin Dragons, a thick set of five volumes with tiny text—a pirated copy from an earlier era.

The rest of her choices included How to Master ‘High-EQ’ Conversations, Humor and Communication, and The Weaknesses of Human Nature.

Not bad. Xu Qing wasn’t sure if these self-help books would have a magical effect on someone like Jiang He, who seemed as untainted as a blank sheet of paper. Still, while their content was simple, there was no harm in it. Such books, filled with commonsense advice, might even suit her well.

“Let’s leave that one then,” Jiang He agreed, setting aside the Tang Dynasty novel.

“What about A Brief History of Time?” Xu Qing raised an eyebrow at her next choice but said nothing more. He added it to the pile for checkout.

She probably wouldn’t understand it—he himself found it challenging. She was likely drawn to the word “time.” Still, if it caught her interest, it was worth buying.

Xu Qing quickly scanned the payment with his phone. Even if unreadable, it could sit on a bookshelf as a decorative piece—not entirely useless.

At least he wasn’t worried about waking up one morning to find Jiang He in the living room with a hammer and screwdriver, attempting to build a time machine.

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