A Bela dos Anos 80 Não Luta Mais

1988, Southern Coastal Open Zone.

On an October morning before dawn, the streets were shrouded in a grayish-white mist. In the dim light, every household in the city was already stirring, the clatter of pots and pans mingling with the sounds of washing and grooming.

At the Marine Electronics Factory, the female workers’ wake-up call was at six-thirty. For these migrant girls who had come from rural villages, this time was considered late rather than early; back home, many were accustomed to rising at five or six to feed chickens, ducks, and cut pig fodder.

Working in the factory was once regarded as a blessing to them.

“Wake up! Wake up!”

...

“Where’s Xuexia? I don’t see her.”

“She…”

At that moment, Lin Xuexia opened her eyes. A wave of fatigue overwhelmed her, causing her to frown. Her body ached stiffly, and she cursed Fu Wei inwardly—a damn fool who ignored his health despite being forty and still reckless. She had married Fu Wei just yesterday. According to her plan, they would simply file for the marriage certificate quietly, but Fu Wei refused, playing the generous benefactor and throwing an extravagant wedding—celebrity guests, lavish diamond rings, and a gown so splendid that in her youth she could never have dreamed of such grandeur.

Since that incident, her health had deteriorated; she was frail and often ill. Fu Wei had just undergone surgery and narrowly escaped death. Two “sickly shells” throwing such a grand wedding—no wonder it seemed like a curse on their longevity.

Lin Xuexia sniffed the air. Ho