Chapter 413 Ren Shan’s Advice

Chapter 413 Ren Shan's Advice

"Auntie, Mom asked me to bring these down," Ren Shan said as she put down the things in her hands, addressing Liu Xiaomei.

Wang Yongshun patted the stool beside him. "Come, warm up first. No rush. Your aunt wants to talk to you."

Liu Xiaomei nodded. "Yes, I just made some fried sweet potato chips. I’ll pack some for you to take up.

By the way, your uncle’s family mentioned they’d come over this afternoon to make glutinous rice cakes together. Tell Little Cui to join us, and have Pingping come down early—he’s got the strength for it."

Wang Yongshun’s son, Wang Jianyong, was quiet and polite, hardly saying a word. He offered Ren Shan a friendly smile and poured her some tea.

His mom never used to like visitors and would brush them off, but now she had changed.

Glancing at the busy Liu Xiaomei, he lowered his voice to Wang Yongshun. "Dad, Mom has changed so much these past six months. I almost thought she was a different person."

Wang Yongshun’s gaze followed Liu Xiaomei as he murmured, "Yeah, she’s got her spark back, something to hope for."

Ren Shan chuckled softly. She always felt Wang Jianyong had been overly sheltered by Wang Yongshun and Liu Xiaomei—timid and too hung up on appearances.

Once, while washing clothes by the well, she had seen Wang Jianyong being mocked and bullied by kids way younger than him. He hadn’t dared to retort, just ducked his head, face burning, and bolted.

"Jianyong, your mom hasn’t changed that much. It’s just that life is better now. People aren’t as hostile toward her now, and she’s gained confidence. When you have confidence, people don’t dare to bully you so easily..."

Wang Jianyong looked puzzled. "Confidence?"

Ren Shan said calmly, "If you don’t want people to bully you, there are only two real ways—either you’ve got money, or you’ve got a mean streak."

"Jianyong, sometimes if you don’t stand up for yourself when you should, people will walk all over you. Endless compromise just means your boundaries keep getting trampled, and everyone feels they can step on you.

So when dealing with others, you have to set your own bottom line. When someone crosses it, hit back hard, no matter what it takes."

Remembering how Wang Jianyong had once looked to that ‘friend’ of his—someone he often fetched water and walked to school with—for help, only to be ignored, Ren Shan continued,

"When you interact with others, don’t be too nice. Don’t think being nice means people will respect you. The quality of your relationships depends only partly on how you treat others—what really matters is how strong you are yourself."

"Like that time by the well, you should’ve swung that pole and fought back."

Wang Jianyong gave an awkward laugh. "I was outnumbered, and if I fought, it’d only land her in hot water..."

Ren Shan reminded him, "Erhei was right there with you. If you’d seized the chance to jump in when he did, they’d have been toast."

"If you’d given them that beating, they’d never have dared to mock you again."

Jianyong widened his eyes and explained, "Shanshan, you know Erhei and I aren’t exactly buddies."

Ren Shan couldn’t help but laugh. "What does that matter? I’m not telling you to help him for no reason. Jumping in would’ve been all upside—why pass that up?"

"Jianyong, sometimes your thinking is too rigid. Keep fair-weather friends at arm’s length. But if it helps you survive, even if you and Erhei don’t get along, you can work together temporarily.

Afterward, you can go right back to disliking him. Haven’t you noticed? The tougher you are, the less you sweat the small stuff—and in the end, the ones who don’t give a damn get the respect.

When there’s real benefit, even enemies can be temporary friends. That day, that ‘pal’ of yours was worse than useless—Erhei had your back."

Wang Jianyong stared at Ren Shan, stunned.

As she spoke, Wang Yongshun listened quietly nearby.

Only after Ren Shan had left with her things did he say to his son, "Shanshan—your aunt and Sister An’an swear she’s sharp as a tack. I think what she said makes sense."

"Pengpeng, that kid..."

Wang Yongshun didn’t know how to explain. The neighbor’s boy Pengpeng was about the same age as his son. Since the two families lived close, the children had grown up together, and Jianyong always tagged along with him—whether going to school or anywhere else, they were inseparable.

But "tagging along" wasn’t quite right. Jianyong was cautious around Pengpeng, with a touch of eagerness to please.

His cousin Jianbing was six or seven years younger. When Jianyong was in elementary school, Jianbing hadn’t started yet. By the time Jianbing entered first grade, Jianyong was already in middle school. Now that Jianbing was in middle school, Jianyong had moved on to high school.

Among kids his own age, most avoided him—some mocked his father for being disabled, others sneered at his mother for being a shrew.

Back when Su Ping and the others were still around, he’d at least had friends. After they left, only Pengpeng next door would give him the time of day, walking with him to and from school every day.

So he clung to that friendship, even if it meant being submissive...

Now that Ren Shan had called him out on it, his chest tightened with shame.

Wang Yongshun’s heart ached too.

His son hadn’t always been like this—so careful around everyone. He’d once been mischievous, even reckless—a young bull fearless of tigers, unaware of how the world worked.

It was his fault. His own lessons, hammered into the boy again and again: *Don’t cause trouble outside. Put up with whatever happens.*

When Jianyong came home bruised, he never asked why he’d been fighting. Just sighed and said, *"Let them talk. A few words won’t kill you."*

*"Look at our family. I’m useless like this. Your mother’s already got enough on her plate. You pick a fight over some stupid argument? Lose, and we can’t defend you. Win, and they’ll come demanding money. We can’t pay. Your mom will suffer for it. We’re barely scraping by—don’t make it worse."*

So Jianyong learned young: *Don’t start fights. Don’t talk back. Just take it.*

Swallow every insult. Because his parents were drowning already. If he lost, they couldn’t protect him. If he hurt someone badly, they had nothing to give.

He’d just drag them down further.

So he swallowed it all. Backed down, no matter what. Never, ever rocked the boat.

Those words became his mantra.

And bit by bit, they hollowed him out—left him withdrawn, afraid, spineless.