Chapter 14: Sarcasm, A Puppy (First Update)…

Chapter 14 A Petty and Sarcastic Little Dog (Part 1)...

"Stop spouting nonsense," Political Commissar Zhao's wife frowned upon hearing Shi Guilan's words. "Don’t engage in such old-fashioned superstitions [feudal beliefs]. The wife of Regiment Commander Qin has nothing to do with this—they aren’t even next-door neighbors. It was their own carelessness. They haven’t even blamed neighbors several buildings away, yet you’re doing it for them?"

Mrs. Zhao was the elder, with her eldest child already in their teens. She also worked in the Women’s Federation and was well aware of Shi Guilan’s penchant for gossip. Before Shi Guilan married Political Commissar Zhao, her gossiping was irritating but not as detestable as it was now.

"This…" Shi Guilan was a little afraid. Being accused of feudal superstition was a heavy accusation, and she had spoken too hastily.

"When you went to Staff Officer Xu’s house, not long after, his wife died in childbirth. So, did you cause her death too?" Auntie Fatty interjected. "What era is this? Still spouting such nonsense—aren’t you afraid someone will report you?"

Auntie Fatty couldn’t tolerate Shi Guilan’s words, blaming Song Fenglan for the child’s misfortune. Song Fenglan was beautiful and considerate. Auntie Fatty remembered how Song Fenglan had given Zhang Xiaohu food and even let her take some for her eldest son—such a thoughtful person. Shi Guilan’s words were just too vile.

"She lives next to you," Shi Guilan retorted. "Do you really think she respects you?"

"She doesn’t look down on me, but you certainly do," Auntie Fatty shot back, having tolerated Shi Guilan for far too long. Before, she had been cautious not to offend her, keeping her words restrained even when arguing. But now, she saw Shi Guilan as a nobody who got lucky and didn’t know her place. "You’re always putting on airs here, as if we don’t know you’re Staff Officer Xu’s wife. You’re his wife, not the aunt who helped raise his children!"

Shi Guilan hated it when people brought up how she had once helped care for Staff Officer Xu’s children. She always felt they were implying she had been involved with him earlier. In truth, she had indeed fantasized about marrying him back then—but only in her heart. Before his first wife passed, their relationship had been entirely proper.

"You—"

"Back then, even after Regiment Commander Qin said he was already married, you still tried to set him up with your cousin, shamelessly foisting your cousin on him," Auntie Fatty continued. "What, since your cousin failed to break up his marriage, now you’re targeting his wife? She just arrived and hasn’t even had time to settle in, yet you’re already badmouthing her. How shameless! Neither you nor your cousin are half as pretty or educated as her. Why don’t you look in a mirror? Just because you’re inferior, you resort to jealousy."

"You—I’ll rip your mouth open!" Shi Guilan was furious, convinced Auntie Fatty was only bold enough to say these things because she had Regiment Commander Qin’s wife as backup. She must be trying to curry favor with her.

Shi Guilan lunged at Auntie Fatty, but given Auntie Fatty’s bulk, even without anyone stepping in, Shi Guilan stood no chance of landing a hit. Instead, Auntie Fatty slugged her twice. Since Shi Guilan had thrown the first punch, Auntie Fatty figured she might as well take the opportunity to retaliate.

Everyone around saw it—Shi Guilan had started both the slander and the fight.

People stepped in to pull them apart, though some pretended to intervene while secretly hoping Auntie Fatty would land a few more hits. Shi Guilan was widely disliked for her pretentiousness and arrogance, though no one could figure out what she had to be so proud of. Many had suffered at her hands but held back out of respect for Staff Officer Xu.

"Enough, enough," Mrs. Zhao finally intervened, stepping between them. "Stop fighting—you’re making a spectacle of yourselves."

Shi Guilan’s hair was a mess, and Auntie Fatty didn’t look much better.

"Staff Officer Xu’s wife, your thinking is problematic—old-fashioned superstition," Mrs. Zhao said sternly. "People who don’t even live together or share any relation can’t possibly bring misfortune to each other. How can you say such things? And Auntie Fatty, you shouldn’t have been so impulsive. Staff Officer Xu’s wife just has a loose tongue, she didn’t mean—"

Mrs. Zhao had been about to say "she didn’t mean real harm," but the words stuck in her throat. Shi Guilan’s words had been dripping with malice.

"Regiment Commander Qin’s wife just arrived. Let’s all be a little more considerate," Mrs. Zhao said. "Don’t make it seem like we’re ganging up on the newcomer. When you all first arrived, didn’t the neighbors help you out too? Now that Regiment Commander Qin’s wife is here, are you, Staff Officer Xu’s wife, going to lead the charge in bullying her?"

"Me? No, I—"

"You’ve seen it yourself—not only is Regiment Commander Qin truly married, but his wife is outstanding, and they even have a son," Mrs. Zhao deliberately emphasized "son." When Staff Officer Xu’s first wife died, he had only daughters. Men always wanted sons, and with children needing care, Shi Guilan had easily married into the family. Wasn’t it only after she bore a son that she dared to speak so boldly?

Everyone knew what Shi Guilan was really like—Mrs. Zhao, and many others.

After the scuffle, the crowd dispersed, not wanting to linger.

Fuming, Shi Guilan returned home, where the sight of her two stepdaughters only worsened her mood. The younger one was crying.

"Can’t you look after your sister? She’s your own sister, from the same mother," Shi Guilan snapped. "Do you really trust me, your stepmother, to take care of her? Aren’t you afraid I’ll mistreat her?"

Hearing others criticize her as a bad stepmother only fueled her anger. If they thought she was terrible, then she’d act the part. She had already given her husband a son—that was what mattered.

"You’re both hopeless," Shi Guilan scoffed. "Your sister isn’t a toddler—she’s six or seven. And you’re already ten. Can’t you even take care of her? With attitudes like yours, no decent family will want either of you in the future."

The elder stepdaughter stayed silent, long accustomed to Shi Guilan’s barbs. She still remembered a time when Shi Guilan had been kind to her—but that was long ago.

Auntie Fatty, meanwhile, returned home in better spirits, satisfied she’d gotten a few hits in. Knowing Shi Guilan would likely trouble Song Fenglan again, she tidied her hair and clothes before knocking on her neighbor’s door.

Song Fenglan let Auntie Fatty into the room, where she saw the wood in the yard.

"You're busy?" Auntie Fatty asked.

"He's making safety rails for the bed," Song Fenglan said. "Zi Hang sleeps alone, and we're afraid he might roll off. The safety rails will help."

"You're really good to him," Auntie Fatty remarked. "Where is Zi Hang?"

"Taking a catnap," Song Fenglan replied. "These past few days, with the train ride, settling in, and shopping, he’s exhausted. We adults can hold up, but kids, though they seem energetic, can’t handle it as well."

Song Fenglan and her husband had just heard about a neighbor’s child who had fallen headfirst into a bucket, so they warned their son not to mess around like that. Qin Yizhou was busy with the safety rails and couldn’t take the child out, nor did Song Fenglan plan to today. Since the boy was sleepy, it was better to let him rest.

"You know what?" Auntie Fatty glanced around and lowered her voice.

"What is it?" Song Fenglan asked, puzzled.

"Shi Guilan, Staff Officer Xu’s wife—his second wife—originally wanted to introduce her cousin to your man. Now she’s saying you’ve blocked her cousin’s chance." Auntie Fatty sighed, still upset by the thought. "She’s always quick to criticize others. In your case, she blames you for blocking her cousin’s prospects."

"Then I can only say she’s out of her mind," Song Fenglan said. "If my man could abandon me for another woman, sooner or later, he’d do the same to her. If he’s fickle now, he’ll always be. As for loyalty—men never outgrow chasing young girls."

"That’s not—" Qin Yizhou, who was working in the corner of the living room, spoke up. The weather outside was too hot, and Song Fenglan had told him not to work under the sun to avoid heatstroke. He didn’t think he’d be affected, but since his wife insisted, he stayed indoors to spare her worry.

"Mind your business," Song Fenglan said, shooting him a glance.

"I’m not like that. You’re the only one for me," Qin Yizhou said, feeling the need to clarify before falling silent.

He believed in his son’s advice: never say one thing and mean another. Song Fenglan was his lifelong partner, not some outsider. With outsiders, he wouldn’t bother explaining.

"He’s got a point," Auntie Fatty chuckled. "You’re so beautiful and cultured. Even as a woman, I like you."

She felt a pang of guilt, remembering how she’d initially disliked Song Fenglan upon their first meeting—her beauty had stirred an instinctive resentment, as if she’d bristled with jealousy. But Song Fenglan paid no mind, and Auntie Fatty hoped she’d always stay that way.

No one wants a bitter neighbor; everyone prefers kindness.

"Are you making clothes for the child?" Auntie Fatty asked. "I saw your sewing machine yesterday."

"Yes, mostly done. Just a few finishing touches left," Song Fenglan said, fetching the garment. The fierce-looking pup design wasn’t complete yet—though "fierce" was an overstatement; it was more cute than intimidating.

A boy wearing such a scary dog might weird people out. At most, it’d leave other kids unimpressed, not adults.

Song Fenglan didn’t want her son left out because of some design, so she aimed to make his clothes more appealing.

"You know embroidery?" Auntie Fatty was surprised.

"A little," Song Fenglan said. "My mother taught me."

When she was young, her mother—a refined lady from a wealthy family—had instructed her. Despite the chaos of those times, her upbringing remained thorough. Song Fenglan had heard stories of her mother’s grand wedding: a dowry parade stretching for miles, fancy wedding candies handed out by the handful to the city’s poor.

Days before the wedding, her family had already begun handing out sweets. Their family compound was huge, with sprawling gardens that took ages to traverse. Her mother had married before her aunt, whose own wedding was disrupted by war. Her aunt’s fiancé disappeared without a trace, and she later married someone else.

Things don’t always go how you plan.

"Your mother taught you," Auntie Fatty murmured, looking at her own rough hands that kept catching on threads. Song Fenglan’s fair, slender fingers were not your average housewife’s hands.

She tucked her hands away, ashamed of their coarseness.

"Yes, she taught me many things. She even wanted to teach me cooking, but... things got in the way." Song Fenglan’s mother had shown her how to make pastries but never got to proper cooking.

To women like her, classy skills—good for impressing men—were important. There was no need to sweat over a stove, where grease would ruin your skin.

Song Fenglan's maternal family had fallen on hard times. When her mother got married, she still had many possessions, but by the time Yu Xiaoyi married, there wasn't much left. However, the dowry from Yu Xiaoyi's birth family was more generous than the betrothal gifts from her in-laws, yet her in-laws remained dissatisfied—though they dared not voice it openly. During those turbulent years, when the Song family faced hardships, Yu Xiaoyi's in-laws became more vocal, often making things difficult for her.

Without any backing and with a naturally timid disposition, Yu Xiaoyi was easily controlled by her in-laws. She also carried the lingering guilt of having been previously engaged—her vanished fiancé left her feeling it was improper to remarry.

Yu Xiaoyi and Song Fenglan's mother were not born to the same mother. Song Fenglan's mother was the first wife’s daughter, while Yu Xiaoyi was the child of a concubine. These circumstances shaped Yu Xiaoyi's submissive personality.

Thinking of her own mother, Song Fenglan had sent her parents some items but hadn’t visited them in person. In those chaotic times, as a vulnerable woman, she couldn’t easily travel by train to such a remote place, and her parents worried about her safety on the journey. Family didn’t need to meet to stay family—absence didn’t diminish their kinship.

"What are you embroidering?" Auntie Fatty asked cautiously, avoiding the topic of Song Fenglan's family.

"A dog," Song Fenglan replied. "My child likes it."

"No wonder your son speaks so highly of you," Auntie Fatty remarked. "Most mothers just make sure their kids have clothes to wear—no need for embroidery. Kids are rough on clothes—durability matters. My Xiao Hu often wears his older brother’s hand-me-downs, and even his brother wore others’ old clothes before."

"He’s our only child," Song Fenglan said. "If I can pretty them up, why not? I have the time now—if I didn’t, I wouldn’t bother."

"You’ve got talent," Auntie Fatty sighed. "When my son’s clothes tear, I don’t even bother mending them—they’ll just tear again anyway."

Song Fenglan smiled but didn’t offer to mend Auntie Fatty’s children’s clothes. She wasn’t about to wait on others, nor did she seek to please anyone. She disliked troubling others and equally disliked being troubled—she focused only on her own affairs.

No need for alliances.

Song Fenglan didn’t care about the disputes between Auntie Fatty and Shi Guilan. Shi Guilan had badmouthed her, and sooner or later, Song Fenglan would make her regret it.

"Country folks mostly make do," Auntie Fatty said. "If clothes tear badly, we just patch them up with scraps and keep wearing them."

"Thrift is a virtue," Song Fenglan noted.

"Exactly!" Auntie Fatty agreed eagerly. "Though, to be honest, few people around here wear patched clothes anymore—it’s rare."

Auntie Fatty squirmed. People often criticized her for being too frugal, too petty. But with limited funds—some taken by her in-laws, the rest saved for emergencies—she had little choice.

After some more conversation, Auntie Fatty left. Qin Yizhou had overheard everything.

Auntie Fatty hadn’t bothered hiding her words from him—men rarely interfered in women’s quarrels. She had complained to her husband, Zhang Chenghai, but he always urged her to endure, saying neighbors shouldn’t escalate trivial matters. Many men dismissed such issues as minor, but women like Auntie Fatty knew better.

"Your peach blossom debt," Song Fenglan said, glancing at Qin Yizhou.

"From the start, I made it clear—I’m married," Qin Yizhou replied. "Those blooms aren’t from my tree; they’re overgrown branches from someone else’s."

He had never liked Shi Guilan’s cousin. They’d barely met, and even if she stood before him, he’d ignore her. Why engage with anyone but his wife?

"This branch resents me for taking up space," Song Fenglan mused. "Overstep, and you get chopped."

"Exactly," Qin Yizhou agreed firmly. "No trespassing."

He wondered if Song Fenglan was jealous—but doubted it. His wife wasn’t the jealous type. She didn’t love him deeply, and he knew it. He worried he’d upset her before she even grew fond of him, sneaking looks to ensure she didn’t look at him with disgust.

"Zi Hang’s dead tired—he’s still asleep despite your racket," Song Fenglan remarked.

"He…" Qin Yizhou wished his wife would think of him as often as she did their son.

"What?" Song Fenglan noticed his hesitation. "Worried I’ll give your admirer’s cousin hell?"

"No," Qin Yizhou said sternly. "I’ll have words with Staff Officer Xu about this."

"You should," Song Fenglan arched a brow. "Why should we women clean up men’s messes while you men hide comfortably, acting like nothing’s wrong, dumping the fallout on us?"

"I’ll say something," Qin Yizhou said. "Back when we lived in army housing, it was fine since we didn’t interact much with these people. But now, if they trouble you, they're troubling me too. They've seriously affected our quality of life."

"Don’t let those people affect Zi Hang," Song Fenglan said. "A child might not understand these things, but they can still feel them."

"Of course," Qin Yizhou replied. "You... you... don’t be angry."

"Why would I be angry? Getting angry ruins your skin and makes you age faster," Song Fenglan said. "Less stress keeps you young."

The neighbor's child a few buildings over had been saved in time. The child survived, and the grandma could finally breathe easier. If the child had died, things would’ve never been right between her and her son and daughter-in-law—after all, it was a living child, even if it was a girl.

The grandma didn’t keep a close eye on her granddaughter and went off to do other things instead. By the time she realized something was wrong, the child had already fallen headfirst into a water bucket.

In the evening, when Song Fenglan went to get the laundry, Auntie Fatty spoke to her across the fence about the child’s recovery.

"Thank God she’s okay," Auntie Fatty sighed. "Really, how could they be so careless? If the child had died, it would’ve been too late for regrets."

"It’s good that she’s fine," Song Fenglan said.

"Exactly," Auntie Fatty agreed. "It spares them the what-ifs—but you should still be careful. They might really start saying you’re jinxing them, that you… well, just watch out."

"Doggy! Ah, doggy!" Just as Song Fenglan and Auntie Fatty were talking, Qin Zihang started yelling excitedly.

It turned out Qin Yizhou had brought home a puppy from somewhere else. He’d overheard part of his wife and son’s conversation the day before and thought his son wanted a dog. So, using his day off, he hurried to get a puppy to make his son happy.

Qin Zihang was overjoyed. "Dad, is this our dog?"

"Yes, it’s ours. It’s for you," Qin Yizhou said, mussing up his son’s hair.

Song Fenglan turned and saw her son reaching out to hug the puppy. She quickly stopped him. "Wait."

"Mom," Qin Zihang said, snatching his hand back immediately at her words.

"The puppy hasn’t been cleaned up yet. You can’t hold it now," Song Fenglan said. She was going to say something about shots, but in these times, people didn’t always get their shots, let alone pets. She looked at Qin Yizhou. "Pets carry all kinds of germs. If children interact with them too much, they can get infected. We need to make sure everything’s clean and hygienic first."

"Mom," Qin Zihang pleaded, giving her sleeve a careful tug. "Don’t send the dog away."

"I’m not sending it away. We just need to clean it up and get rid of any worms first," Song Fenglan explained. "After that, the dog will be healthier and can stay with you for a long, long time. Isn’t that better?"

"Okay, okay!" Qin Zihang clapped his hands in delight, relieved his mother wasn’t forbidding him from keeping the dog.

"If you like dogs and want to raise one, then we’ll raise it," Song Fenglan said. "When you go to the canteen to grab food, bring back a little extra."

After all, they were using ration coupons and money—it wasn’t like the dog was eating for free.

Though raising a dog when so many people didn’t even have enough to eat... Well, never mind. At least a dog can guard the house, so it wasn’t a bad idea.

"If you have leftovers, you can feed them to the dog," Song Fenglan said.

"I’ll eat less," Qin Zihang offered.

"I’m not telling you to eat less. Eat as much as you need," Song Fenglan said. "We’ll keep the dog."

"You’re the best, Mom!" Qin Zihang was ecstatic, happier than he’d ever been.

Qin Yizhou, however, didn’t dare let his son touch the puppy yet. He needed to find some medicine to clean it up and deworm it first. His wife had worked so hard to raise their son so well—he couldn’t let him get hurt now.

"I wasn’t thinking," Qin Yizhou admitted.

"Earlier, I was wondering why you went out after dinner," Song Fenglan said. "So it was for this dog."

"Didn't you say you wanted to raise a dog yesterday?" Qin Yizhou fixed his gaze on Song Fenglan. If his wife or son expressed a desire, he would do his best to provide.

"No, who said anything about raising a dog?" Song Fenglan was puzzled, then remembered their son wanted a tough, imposing dog stitched onto his clothes. "Your son wanted a shirt with a dog design—a fierce and mighty dog—not a live one."

"..." Qin Yizhou was floored. He had genuinely thought they meant a real dog.

"Hearing only half the conversation?" Song Fenglan remarked.

"So this dog..."

"I want to raise it, I want to raise it!" Qin Zihang shouted loudly. "Mom already agreed!"

Qin Zihang was dying to hug the puppy to show his dad that his mom had approved.

"Alright, we'll keep it," Qin Yizhou said. "Mom agreed."

After saying this, he glanced at Song Fenglan as if to say, "Your call."

"Do you have any medicine?" Song Fenglan asked. "Antiseptic or flea meds, you know?"

"I'll go buy some," Qin Yizhou replied. No big deal—there were pharmacies and clinics nearby. Even if none were available, he could ask his doctor friend. How different could treating dogs be?

"Dad, come on, faster!" Qin Zihang urged impatiently, eager to hold the puppy.

"You could also buy a bottle of strong booze," Song Fenglan suggested, thinking strong alcohol could disinfect. It’s not like we’re getting the dog drunk, so it shouldn’t be a problem.

"Alright," Qin Yizhou agreed without objection. He plopped down the cage with the puppy inside before heading out again.

Qin Zihang squatted beside the cage, eyeing the pup. He wanted to touch it but glanced at his mom first. Looking around, he picked up a sturdy weed stalk from the ground and used it to tease the puppy.

The puppy, skittish, shrank into the corner of the cage.

"Mom, is the puppy scared?" Qin Zihang asked anxiously, seeing this. "The puppy is going to stay with us and live with us!"

"You two just met—it’s not familiar with you yet," Song Fenglan explained. "Once you see each other more, the puppy won’t be afraid."

"We need to meet more then," Qin Zihang said. "Mom, will the puppy be scared of you?"

"..." Song Fenglan looked at the puppy. She didn’t know if it would fear her, but she did know raising a puppy came with a boatload of trouble. Yet her husband had brought one home, and their son loved it so much—no way she could kick it out. Seeing the puppy’s big watery eyes, she gave in.

A mother dog could give birth to several puppies in one litter, but not all make it. Returning this already separated puppy wasn’t practical—better to just raise it.

Song Fenglan told herself it wasn’t out of being softhearted—she just didn’t want her son to be sad.

"Mom, will the puppy be scared of Dad?" Qin Zihang asked again.

"Ask your dad when he gets back," Song Fenglan replied. Her son always asked these nitpicky questions.

"Mom, I still want the dog on my clothes," Qin Zihang said, pointing at the puppy in the cage. "Just like this little puppy."

"Alright," Song Fenglan nodded.

"Mom, should we give the puppy a name?" Qin Zihang asked. "Like me—I have a name too."

"What do you want to name it?" Song Fenglan asked.

"Hmm..." Qin Zihang put on a thoughtful expression before finally declaring, "How about Barky?"

"Barky?" Song Fenglan rolled her eyes.

"All dogs go 'woof woof,'" Qin Zihang said, not at all thinking his naming skills were lacking. In fact, he believed the name was perfect. "Naming it Wangwang makes it clear it's a dog," he added. "Wangwang, Wangwang."

"How about Wangwang, Fu Wangwang?" Song Fenglan felt she could still improve her son's naming idea. "Fu Wangwang—lucky and thriving."

"Mom, you're so smart," Qin Zihang said. "Wangwang is good, Fu Wangwang, Fu Wangwang, little Fu Wang."

The next-door neighbors noticed every little thing.

When Qin Yizhou returned with medicine to disinfect the puppy, Zhang Xiaohu came running over. Zhang Xiaohu kneeled down beside them, watching Qin Yizhou apply the medicine to the puppy, his eyes fixed on the little dog.

"This is the dog my dad gave me, and my mom agreed to keep it," Qin Zihang said, also squatting beside them.

Song Fenglan brought stools for the two boys, but they wouldn’t sit, choosing to squat and watch instead.

"I want my dad to bring me a dog too," Zhang Xiaohu said enviously, looking at Qin Zihang. Qin Zihang's mom was pretty and gentle, and his dad was so nice—he even gave his son a dog!

"You should tell him," Qin Zihang said. "We kids should say what we want. Don’t make Mom and Dad guess."

"I’ll tell him later," Zhang Xiaohu said, ballin’ his tiny fists. He was determined to ask his dad.

"My mom is also going to embroider a little dog on my clothes. It’ll look really, really cool," Qin Zihang said. "I’ll get to wear it in a few days—super cool."

Even though Song Fenglan hadn’t finished the embroidery yet, that didn’t stop Qin Zihang from bragging about his mom nonstop. In his eyes, his mom was the best—she could do anything.

"Clothes with little dogs?" Zhang Xiaohu repeated.

"Yeah," Qin Zihang said. "All us kids get clothes like that."

"...," Zhang Xiaohu stared at Qin Zihang in disbelief. Why weren’t his clothes like that?

"Mom makes cozy clothes for her little one," Qin Zihang emphasized.

Qin Yizhou listened to the conversation between Zhang Xiaohu and Qin Zihang, thinking that his own clothes didn’t have any patterns, while his wife made all sorts of designs for their son. He glanced at his son again—the kid was his mini-me. No point getting mad. If he hadn’t tied the knot back then, she wouldn’t have married him so quickly. If only they’d waited a little longer to have this child, Qin Yizhou thought, he and Song Fenglan could have had more time alone.

"Hold on," Qin Yizhou said. "The meds need time to work."

"I’ll just watch," Qin Zihang said. "The puppy’s in the cage—I won’t touch it."

"Me neither," Zhang Xiaohu quickly added.

Auntie Fatty found out Zhang Xiaohu had gone to Song Fenglan’s house, but she didn’t stop her youngest son. He didn’t usually click with other kids, but Qin Zihang and Zhang Xiaohu, despite being about two years apart, were both small enough to play together.

Zhang Chenghai was at home, looking at his eldest son while thinking about his youngest, who had run off to the neighbors again.

"Xiao Hu went over there again?" Zhang Chenghai asked.

"Yeah, he went," Auntie Fatty said. "Honestly, it’s kinda amazing. Commander Qin’s wife just moved here with her kid, and Xiao Hu already likes them so much—he went yesterday and again today. They say kids are the most sensitive to emotions. Commander Qin’s wife must be good if Xiao Hu likes her so much."

"If you have time, try to get closer to Commander Qin’s wife. You said yourself Xiao Hu likes her and that she’s good," Zhang Chenghai said. "Commander Qin’s wife is leagues better than Staff Officer Xu’s wife."

Even though Commander Qin’s wife wasn’t great at cooking, his youngest son liked her. Zhang Chenghai knew Xiao Hu didn’t like Staff Officer Xu’s wife, Shi Guilan, who played favorites based on rank. Since his own status wasn’t high, Shi Guilan naturally didn’t think much of him.

"Not just slightly better—miles better," Auntie Fatty said. "I used to give bamboo poles to others for drying clothes, and they’d complain. Said bamboo cracks easy, pinches fingers, or leaves splinters."

Auntie Fatty glanced at the neighbors, who were still using bamboo poles to dry clothes. She figured Song Fenglan would swap them for clotheslines fast, but instead, the Qin family even made bamboo forks to prop up the poles. That put Auntie Fatty’s mind at ease—see, Commander Qin’s wife didn’t look down on her bamboo poles. In fact, they even found a way to use them better.

"Some folks love acting high and mighty—the less they’ve got, the more they front," Auntie Fatty said.

Staff Officer Xu returned home to hear Shi Guilan badmouthing Song Fenglan.

"She's probably the jinx," Shi Guilan said. "Nothing happened before she came." She continued, "I just said a few words, and Auntie Fatty stood up for her. Auntie Fatty just wants to suck up to Battalion Commander Qin's wife!"

"You didn't say that in front of Battalion Commander Qin's wife, did you?" Staff Officer Xu frowned.

"No," Shi Guilan replied. "I'd never say that to her face! I just mentioned it briefly and didn't go on. I won't say anymore, I won't."

Sensing her husband's displeasure, Shi Guilan stopped. With her husband present, she still dished out food for her two stepdaughters, saying, "Eat, have some more."

The two stepdaughters knew they got to eat better only when their father was home. The elder stepdaughter put a piece of meat in her younger sister's bowl. Shi Guilan glanced sideways at the elder stepdaughter—there was so little meat, yet these girls have the nerve to take some?

"Hurry up and eat," Shi Guilan said, plopping another piece into the elder stepdaughter's bowl. "Look how thin you both are. Even when you eat, you don't gain weight. Strangers would think I starve you and only feed your brother."

Neither stepdaughter spoke. They kept their mouths shut and ate while they could, knowing they could enjoy better food while their father was around.

Shi Guilan itched to snap: "Can't you even say a word?"

But with her husband there, she held back to avoid his criticism. She believed girls were good for nothing—only boys mattered, since boys carry on the family name.

Girls couldn't inherit the family legacy; they'll just marry off someday. Instead of doting on girls, it was better to focus on boys, who would support them in old age.

"Hurry up and eat," Shi Guilan said to her own son. "You're so slow—while you're dawdling over one bite, others have had two or three."

The girls kept their heads down through Shi Guilan's digs.

Staff Officer Xu didn't correct her, thinking his young son indeed ate slower.

"Eat more, grow taller and stronger," he said. "Boys shouldn't be too thin."

Shi Guilan smiled, pleased her husband prioritized their son. His first wife's daughters would marry off someday—they meant little to him, especially the younger one, whose birth had caused her mother's death.

For a time, Staff Officer Xu hardly gave his younger daughter the time of day, leaving her care to Shi Guilan. Later, told he needed to remarry to care for the kids, he chose Shi Guilan because she was willing to care for his daughters—unlike others who refused.

He trusted her, as she was from his late wife's hometown and even distantly related.

In the yard, Qin Zihang eagerly reached toward the dog Qin Yizhou was bathing. Qin Yizhou noticed but didn't scold him, getting a kick out of his son's back-and-forth.

"Still not done?" Zhang Chenghai came over, seeing Zhang Xiaohu had been there a while. "Why all the hoopla for a mutt?"

To him, Qin Yizhou could've just brought the dog home without all the cleaning—people didn't even wash themselves so thoroughly.

"Dad, get me a puppy too!" Zhang Xiaohu pleaded. "Look how cute it is! Wouldn't you like one too?"