Chapter 20: Black Heart, Learned from Childhood

Chapter 20: A Black Heart Nurtured from Childhood

"This is...?" Auntie Fatty looked at Professor Su and then at the people beside him.

Everyone knew that Professor Su worked at the research institute and was a highly respected figure.

Many in the area were aware that those working at the nearby research institute mostly lived alongside military personnel, as a security measure.

"I'm here to see my niece," Professor Su said. Song Fenglan was the niece of his classmate and close friend, which made her like family to him. "I'm here to see my niece."

Professor Su added, "She's like family to me."

When Qin Yizhou opened the door, he was greeted by Professor Su. Song Fenglan had already gotten up early and cooked vegetable and pork porridge—something she could manage.

Song Fenglan was nervous. Though she believed Professor Su would give her a chance after reviewing the documents, she worried about complications—whether Mrs. Su might object to Professor Su's involvement or if the professor himself had other considerations.

Originally, Song Fenglan had intended to answer the door, but she had just finished cooking the porridge, and Qin Zihang was nearby. Worried her son might get burned, she decided to wait a moment, first setting the porridge on the table. The clay pot made cooking slightly easier.

"Professor Su," Qin Yizhou recognized him and quickly invited him inside.

"You must be her husband," Professor Su replied.

"Yes," Qin Yizhou nodded.

Professor Su then brought his group into the courtyard. Auntie Fatty watched as Professor Su warmly greeted Qin Yizhou and couldn't help but wonder—how had Song Fenglan become related to such an important person? And for him to come in person—Professor Su was no ordinary individual.

When Professor Su entered the living room, he saw Song Fenglan wearing an apron and serving porridge to Qin Zihang.

"No, no," Professor Su said.

"What?" Qin Yizhou was confused.

"My niece," Professor Su stepped forward and grasped Song Fenglan's hands tightly. "Why are you doing these things? You should be at our research institute, working with us. Let your aunt take care of your child—she's at home, with no children of her own to care for. Let your child stay with your uncle and aunt."

Earlier, Professor Su had been thinking about Song Fenglan's situation, recalling his wife mentioning how she was raising her son amidst all the messy troubles. If Song Fenglan were to conduct research, someone would need to care for the child—so why not let his wife handle it? A simple solution.

Professor Su believed his wife was still healthy enough to help care for a child.

"Professor Su," Song Fenglan began.

"Call me Uncle," Professor Su corrected. "Your uncle was my classmate. Back then, we were very close."

He then turned to Qin Zihang, who looked puzzled. "Little one, call me Great-uncle."

Qin Zihang glanced at his mother, and after seeing her nod, he said, "Great-uncle."

"Good boy," Professor Su took out a red envelope from his pocket and handed it to Qin Zihang. Before coming, he had thought about what to bring and settled on a red envelope.

This was Professor Su's first time meeting Song Fenglan and her son. He recognized her abilities, but more importantly, the blueprints she had drawn opened up new possibilities. This made him value her even more. Since his old classmate's niece had come seeking help, even if she weren't exceptionally talented, he felt obligated to help his friend's niece.

"Uncle," Song Fenglan said.

"Yes?" Professor Su responded with a smile.

"Have you eaten? Would you like some porridge? It's just been cooked," Song Fenglan offered.

"We've already eaten," Professor Su said. "Last night, I already contacted the director and requested special permission to bring you into our institute. You're Regiment Commander Qin's wife, and with your abilities, you should be there."

Professor Su had even had a heated argument with the director—or rather, he had scolded the director for being too slow. The director had suggested waiting a few days, considering Song Fenglan's background. While she could be assigned to other tasks, working on aircraft—a highly sensitive and precise work—was problematic.

Professor Su went off on the director, saying he didn’t understand research, questioning whether the director looked down on Song Fenglan like others did, or even looked down on him. He pointed out that their current fighter jets were mostly modified or upgraded from foreign designs—not truly domestically produced. They were being strangled, barely able to breathe, yet the director still wanted to wait.

Wait for what, bullshit! If someone's got what it takes, they should be brought into the institute as soon as possible.

Besides, the situation was gradually improving—why couldn’t the director cut some slack?

Moreover, Song Fenglan trusted them enough to share her work and even solved a critical problem that had long troubled them. She hadn’t even joined the institute yet, but she had already proven her capability with hard results. If they ignored such talent, wouldn’t they just let the country fall further behind?

The director got an earful from Professor Su for a while before finally relenting, making late-night calls to higher-ups, working his way up the ladder. When the top leadership learned of the matter, they agreed that exceptions should be made for talent. If someone as strict as Professor Su recognized her as a genius, they had to give her a chance.

Besides, Professor Su had never praised anyone like this before. While other aspects of her designs were hard to verify immediately, the anti-radar detection feature could be tested. If it worked, it would prove Song Fenglan’s extraordinary ability, and they could give her more clout.

"Of course, bringing you in isn’t just because of whose wife you are," Professor Su said. "But it doesn’t hurt that you’ve got connections."

He worried Song Fenglan might take it the wrong way—after all, everyone wanted to be recognized for their own merits, and she was indeed capable on her own. But since others might not believe it, having that extra layer of identity was still beneficial.

Song Fenglan understood this without Professor Su needing to explain.

"Mom," Qin Zihang whispered, clutching her sleeve as he eyed the unfamiliar faces around them, scared something bad might happen.

"This is your great-uncle," Song Fenglan said, patting his head.

"We’ve all eaten, so you two should go ahead," Professor Su said. "Later, the child can go to your aunt’s place—or even to the lab. We have a daycare spot there. But it’s better to leave him with your aunt; she’s alone and can take care of him more easily."

"Won’t that trouble her too much?" Song Fenglan asked.

"Not at all, not at all," Professor Su insisted. "Your aunt is lonely at home by herself. Having your child around… What’s his name again?"

"Zi Hang, Qin Zihang. Great-uncle can call me Hangbao," the boy said between bites. "Hangbao."

"Hangbao?" Professor Su perked up. "Which 'Hang' is that?"

"The 'Hang' for sailing," Qin Zihang explained. "'Hang' also means 'boat'—I’m my dad’s son."

Qin Yizhou, hearing his son’s explanation, looked at his wife with an intense gaze. Did naming their son like this mean she still cared deeply for him?

"Good name, good name," Professor Su said, his voice thick.

"His name is Qin Zihang, and I’m Song Fenglan," she added, figuring Professor Su might not know her full name yet.

"Niece, your uncle—when he was alive—was dead set on building fighter jets for our country," Professor Su said. "We studied abroad together, and before that, we were classmates here. Back then, he was supposed to return with us, but… he was gone."

The memory made Professor Su’s hands tremble. They had vowed to give everything for their country. But on their journey back, so many had fallen—foreign powers picked them off one by one.

"My uncle… I want to fulfill the dream he couldn’t," Song Fenglan said softly. "When I was little, my parents often spoke of him—what a brilliant man he was."

If he had lived, if he had joined those high-level research institutes, he would have achieved great things. Then, the Song family’s fate might have been different. Folks had them mixed up with another Song family, accused them of moving assets abroad—but it wasn’t true.

There were many with the same surname. Their Song family hadn’t transferred vast wealth overseas. Though Song Fenglan did have relatives abroad—that was common back then. Many wealthy families had members spread out overseas.

"You will fulfill your uncle’s dream," Professor Su said firmly. "You’re coming with me to the lab today."

"Today?" Song Fenglan was surprised. "Don’t I need to pass reviews first?"

"I’ve spoken to the director, and the higher-ups have agreed," Professor Su said. "Just go straight there—skip the red tape."

"Alright," she nodded, elated. She was walking the same path as in her past life—no, better. It would be easier this way, and her son would have a brighter future.

Qin Yizhou stayed silent. His wife had mentioned yesterday that she wouldn’t teach at the middle school but would work at the lab instead. He had planned to speak to his superiors today, but she had already arranged everything—even getting Professor Su to personally show up.

Professor Su and his group had already eaten. Professor Su asked Song Fenglan to have her meal first, and they could talk afterward.

Qin Zihang quietly drank his porridge on his own, while Song Fenglan also gave her son a fried egg, which Qin Yizhou had prepared. Song Fenglan wasn’t much of a cook—her dishes often ended up burnt or poorly seasoned—but Qin Yizhou could fry eggs perfectly, making them look appealing.

Some of the people with Professor Su were research assistants, others were personal aides. They didn’t know much about Song Fenglan’s abilities, but they knew Professor Su wouldn’t praise someone without reason. They had heard him speak of old classmates who had died by gunfire. Professor Su was among the overseas returnees who had come back to contribute to research, but many scientists never even made it back home.

After breakfast, Qin Yizhou had to report to base but was worried about leaving Song Fenglan.

“Go on ahead. I’ll go with Uncle to see Auntie,” Song Fenglan reassured him. She trusted Professor Su, and Qin Yizhou knew him too—this was the real Professor Su.

Song Fenglan carried Qin Zihang as they left the house. Professor Su said, “Let someone else take Hangbao. Don’t tire yourself.”

“It’s fine. I’ll hold him for a while,” Song Fenglan replied. “Once I start working, I won’t get to see him as much.”

If she’d stayed a middle school teacher, she wouldn’t have had to punch a clock and could have returned home early after classes to spend time with her child. But at the research institute, keeping regular hours would be hard enough, let alone leaving early—especially now, with the country rebuilding and so far behind the rest of the world.

“You really cherish him,” Professor Su remarked.

“My family background’s a problem. Though I stayed in the capital, ever since this child was born, he’s gotten a lot of dirty looks,” Song Fenglan said. “I thought things would improve after moving here, but who would’ve thought…”

She hugged her son tightly, determined not to let him suffer unfair treatment anymore.

“If I can enter the institute and achieve something, maybe his life will get better,” Song Fenglan said. “Then people won’t call him the child of a bourgeois young lady or say he’s no good.”

“They won’t. From now on, no one will dare say such things,” Professor Su assured her. “What about your parents…?”

“They’re at the farm,” Song Fenglan replied. “They pulled strings to keep me in the city, so I stayed with my aunt. After graduating high school, I became a substitute middle school teacher. Though it wasn’t a permanent position, at least there was some income.”

The higher-ups held her back, saying her background was an issue, refusing to grant her a permanent post.

After marrying Qin Yizhou, their attitude toward her improved briefly, but once they realized the Qin family didn’t prioritize her, they went back to treating her coldly.

Professor Su sighed.

“This time, I was hoping you could give me a chance,” Song Fenglan said.

“It’s not me giving you a chance—it’s you giving us one,” Professor Su said, pained by the thought of how many talented people like Song Fenglan had been overlooked.

He wasn’t trying to put down the worker-peasant-soldier students, but many who got into university through recommendations were barely literate and clueless. Even if they entered research institutes, they lagged far behind.

Institute professors had to start from square one, drilling the same lessons endlessly.

Abroad, Professor Su had once been a teacher. If foreign students didn’t get it, he’d snap, “Do you even have a brain?” But with his own people, he and others patiently went over things time and again, hoping they’d grasp even a little more.

Mrs. Su was just back from the market when she ran into Professor Su downstairs.

“Dear,” Professor Su said, approaching her, “this is our niece and her boy.”

Having seen Professor Su’s attitude the night before, Mrs. Su already knew how highly he regarded Song Fenglan. She also thought the mother and child had been through too much.

“I’ve discussed it with Fenglan—when she goes to work, Hangbao will stay with us. I’ll need you to keep an eye on him,” Professor Su said carefully, worried his wife might be displeased since he hadn’t consulted her beforehand.

“Of course, let the child come,” Mrs. Su said with a light laugh. Even without prior discussion, she understood her husband’s intentions—he must have seen great potential in Song Fenglan to help her so much. “It’ll be good company. I get lonely sometimes. Fenglan, just bring him here when you go to work and pick him up afterward. He’s welcome to stay overnight if it comes to that.”

Song Fenglan took some ration coupons from her pocket, but Professor Su shook his head.

“Fenglan, keep those for yourself. You need the nourishment more,” he said. “Since you call us Uncle and Auntie, we’re family. There’s no need for such formalities. I make enough to keep Hangbao fed.”

"That's not right," Song Fenglan thought, feeling she had already troubled Professor Su and Mrs. Su enough and couldn't take further advantage.

"Just treat this place as your own home—make yourself at home," Professor Su said. "If you don’t believe me, ask Auntie."

"Your uncle is right," Mrs. Su agreed. "Consider this your home. And you—you didn’t even mention your uncle’s name yesterday. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have let you leave."

Mrs. Su sighed. Too many relatives came by, and naturally, she couldn’t be equally warm to everyone. She urged Song Fenglan and the others to come inside instead of standing around outside.

Song Fenglan had to instruct her son a few words. "Be good and stay with Auntie, understand? If anything’s wrong, tell Mom later."

"Okay!" Qin Zihang nodded vigorously. "Just like with Auntie before."

He understood—he had stayed with his aunt before and knew what to do.

"Right." Song Fenglan’s heart ached seeing how well-behaved and sensible her son was. A mother had to strive harder to give her child a better life. "Stay with Auntie, don’t wander off, or you might get taken by strangers and never see Mom again."

"I’ll stay with Auntie," Qin Zihang said.

Professor Su pulled Mrs. Su aside for a private word. He knew his actions had put his wife in an awkward position. "Fenglan and her husband both have to work, and there’s no one at home to look after the child. I’m afraid we’ll have to trouble you."

"Hangbao is very well-behaved," Mrs. Su replied. "It’s lonely here by myself—having a child around will keep me company."

She wasn’t displeased, just saddened. Even the best can’t protect their family once they’re gone. Song Fenglan herself was struggling—since she and her son arrived, many had been waiting to mock them, bullying them at every turn.

Reluctant to leave her child, Song Fenglan still followed Professor Su away, fighting back tears so her son wouldn’t see her sorrow. It wasn’t far—if she worked harder and proved her worth, her situation would improve, and so would her son’s.

"Mom!" Qin Zihang ran to the doorway. "Mom!"

Song Fenglan didn’t dare look back, only waving without turning. They’d see each other again after work.

"Mom’s going to work—she’ll be back tonight," Mrs. Su reassured Qin Zihang.

"Auntie, will they bully Mom?" Qin Zihang asked.

"Why do you say that?" Mrs. Su asked.

"They always bully Mom," Qin Zihang said, upset. "They say Mom will ruin my life, that she’s no good, that Dad will find me a stepmother. I don’t want a stepmother—I want Mom."

"Don’t worry. With your uncle here, no one would dare bully your mom. Stay here with me, you’ll be safe here." Mrs. Su suddenly thought of something. "I’ll take you out to play—I’m your auntie."

At that moment, she realized her husband likely wanted Qin Zihang to stay with them so he’d be protected by family.

Word got around fast that Professor Su had sought out Song Fenglan. Auntie Fatty spotted Song Fenglan and Professor Su, and when he asked where she lived, many learned how highly he regarded her.

While doing laundry in the courtyard, Auntie Fatty chatted with others.

"Fenglan—she’s Professor Su’s niece. He said so himself," Auntie Fatty said. "No question about it."

"Really?" someone asked.

"Absolutely! I heard him say it myself. I even asked Professor Su, and he confirmed it," Auntie Fatty insisted.

"Why haven’t we seen them together before?" another wondered.

"Professor Su’s so busy," Auntie Fatty said. "Besides, the young ones should visit their elders first. Maybe he didn’t know Fenglan was here, or she didn’t want to drag him into trouble. After Staff Officer Xu’s family made such a scene, of course they’d step forward."

She shot a look toward Staff Officer Xu’s place, adding, "Some people just think others are pushovers! But just because someone keeps quiet doesn’t mean they’re weak. No surprise Captain Qin chose Fenglan—she’s got her strengths."

Shi Guilan was busy looking for a suitable match for her cousin. She thought a few candidates were good, but some had close ties with Qin Yizhou, and she feared they might reject her cousin because of that connection. If she had to look elsewhere, she needed to find someone equally outstanding—her cousin was, after all, the belle of the cultural troupe.

Before arranging any introductions, Shi Guilan went to see Madam Zhao, who worked at the Women's Federation. She didn’t wait for Madam Zhao to return home—some matters couldn’t be delayed any longer.

By all accounts, Shi Guilan should have visited Madam Zhao the day before, but she had put it off until today.

"Sorry," Shi Guilan said upon entering Madam Zhao’s office. "Yesterday, I put my foot in my mouth, I—"

"When will you ever stop putting your foot in your mouth?" Madam Zhao was in a foul mood. "You said Regiment Commander Qin’s wife is a jinx, and you called it a slip of the tongue. Then you did it again during your self-reflection session? Do you really think people will believe it was just a slip?"

Song Fenglan hadn’t taken the junior high teaching position, leaving it for someone else. But that person wouldn’t necessarily be grateful—they’d just assume it was rightfully theirs. If Song Fenglan had taken the job, she’d have been accused of butting in.

Madam Zhao had spent the previous night chewing over these thoughts. A little reflection made the situation clear, especially since Song Fenglan had spoken up. They couldn’t keep pushing her around forever. Even if Shi Guilan had been around much longer, that didn’t mean she was always right or blameless.

"I—I didn’t mean to. I meant to say it privately," Shi Guilan said. "I was just angry and frustrated, so it just came out."

"Can’t you watch your mouth in public?" Madam Zhao snapped. "If you were at home, behind closed doors, fine. But in the broadcasting room—didn’t you check if the microphone was on?"

Madam Zhao wasn’t siding with Shi Guilan; she just thought she was a pain. Shi Guilan, however, believed Madam Zhao was on her side—she just couldn’t openly support her now that the words had been broadcast for everyone to hear.

Shi Guilan was fooling herself. She thought that after living here for so long, she was closer to these people, so they should naturally take her side. But they wouldn’t—not this time.

"It was an accident this time. It won’t happen again," Shi Guilan insisted. "We’ll be more careful—absolutely. My cousin and I have decided to find her a match soon, so she can marry early."

"Decided?" Madam Zhao asked.

"Decided," Shi Guilan nodded. "She’s not getting any younger. We can’t keep delaying."

"You shouldn’t have delayed this long in the first place," Madam Zhao said. "Regiment Commander Qin made it clear he was already married—they’ve even got the marriage certificate. Yet you all kept dragging your feet. And you really shouldn’t have said those things. How do you think people will see your cousin now? She’s not still hung up on Regiment Commander Qin, is she?"

"No, absolutely not," Shi Guilan said. "She even told me to hurry up and find her a suitable match. Got any leads? Could you introduce her to someone?"

"Why should I? We’ve introduced candidates before, and she was never satisfied," Madam Zhao retorted. "As her cousin, you should put in more effort. There’s no shortage of decent guys around—understand?"

"Understood, understood," Shi Guilan said. "My husband also said we should hurry. We all get it now."

"Alright, go home," Madam Zhao dismissed her. "And be careful with your words these days. Loose lips sink ships."

"Right, of course," Shi Guilan agreed.

Shi Guilan still didn’t know who had reported her. She suspected Song Fenglan but wasn’t sure. If not her, then who? Who was secretly watching her? Pretty underhanded, huh?

At noon, Madam Zhao went to the Qin residence, trying to talk Song Fenglan around. If Song Fenglan was worried about taking someone else’s position, she could arrange for the school to open another slot—that could be negotiated.

She knocked at the door for a while, but no one answered.

"Regiment Commander Qin’s family isn’t home—none of them are," Auntie Fatty said, stepping out when she heard the commotion.

"Not home?" Madam Zhao was puzzled.

"No, they’re all out. Regiment Commander Qin is at the base, and his wife took the kid to Professor Su’s place," Auntie Fatty added with emphasis. "Regiment Commander Qin’s wife is Professor Su’s niece. He came personally to take them over. Well, after his niece was bullied so badly, how could an uncle not step in?"

"Regiment Commander Qin’s wife is Professor Su’s niece?" Madam Zhao was stunned.

"You didn’t know?" Auntie Fatty acted surprised. "Well, I didn’t either before. But after Staff Officer Xu’s wife spouted that nonsense over the broadcast yesterday, Professor Su must’ve found out. He couldn’t bear to see his niece suffer, so he took her and her son over."

"..." Madam Zhao truly hadn’t known about the connection between Professor Su and Song Fenglan. She’d assumed Song Fenglan only had Regiment Commander Qin to rely on.

No wonder. No wonder Song Fenglan had the guts to turn down the junior high teaching position.

Mrs. Zhao realized she’d misjudged—her help missed the point and seemed like she was pressuring Song Fenglan for Shi Guilan’s sake. No wonder Song Fenglan blew up. She didn’t need the junior high teaching position at all; it wasn’t that she couldn’t find suitable work. Professor Su—now there was a renowned figure.

They say covert operations require anonymity, but in the housing complex, not everything can be concealed.

With the military stationed here, those living in the research unit are much safer, with risks significantly reduced. The military even arranges patrols near the research institute and around the residences of scientific staff as a precaution.

Mrs. Zhao reflected that Song Fenglan had truly endured a lot—she never revealed this connection. Had she done so, who would have dared to trouble her like this? Shi Guilan thought she had Staff Officer Xu as her backer and that her own background was superior, but now it was clear Shi Guilan was no better.

After arriving at the research institute, Song Fenglan could immediately get to work. From her past experience, she had studied older models and could pinpoint flaws and fixes, impressing everyone.

Professor Su was very pleased with Song Fenglan’s performance—this was his old classmate’s niece, practically family.

“From now on, you can eat at the institute’s cafeteria. It’ll save you the hassle of cooking,” Professor Su said. “Hangbao can have meals at your aunt’s place—he’ll be well fed.”

“Thank you, Uncle, and thank you, Aunt,” Song Fenglan replied.

“Family doesn’t stand on ceremony,” Professor Su said. “You’re quite capable—did you figure those books out solo?”

“I’ve always had a knack for memorizing. I read and memorized them as a child, though I didn’t grasp much back then. Later, I understood more,” Song Fenglan said. “After graduating high school, I continued studying on my own.”

“Brains run in your family,” Professor Su thought of his old classmate with sadness. If only he were still alive—things wouldn’t have turned out this way for the Song family, and Song Fenglan wouldn’t have been overlooked for so many years. “Don’t worry, just focus on your work here. You’re talented—no one will look down on you.”

“Mm.” Song Fenglan nodded.

“If anyone bullies you, tell your uncle,” Professor Su said. “I can’t speak for other places, but in this institute, I can certainly read them the riot act.”

“Of course. If anyone troubles me, I’ll definitely tell you,” Song Fenglan said. “Now I’ve got my uncle in my corner.”

“Exactly. You’re not without family—you’re not alone; your aunt and I are here for you,” Professor Su said.

It wasn’t just Professor Su who heard Song Fenglan’s suggestions—other professors did too. Some overheard Professor Su mention Song Xingyun, and several sighed in recognition. They knew Song Xingyun—that brilliant, extraordinary man—but sadly, he had been taken too soon.

No wonder Professor Su was so determined to bring Song Fenglan into the institute. How could Song Xingyun’s niece be anything less than exceptional?

A Professor Cai approached Song Fenglan with his tray, giving her a once-over.

“You remind me of your uncle,” Professor Cai said. “Back then, your uncle was full of piss and vinegar—he often ribbed me about my name.”

“How could that be?” Song Fenglan asked.

“He shares your surname,” Professor Su interjected.

“Just messing around,” Professor Cai said. “We were close and joked around a lot.”

Professor Cai wasn’t blaming Song Xingyun—he had even praised him for having a fitting name, as his work moved like clouds—smooth as silk. The group had been good friends, always teasing each other. Remembering those days now felt like yesterday. Professor Cai took off his glasses and wiped them with a cloth.

“You all knew each other?” Song Fenglan was puzzled.

“Yes, we were classmates,” Professor Cai said. “Your father mentioned Old Su but not me?”

“Well…” Song Fenglan hesitated. Her father had indeed only spoken of Professor Su.

“Maybe he didn’t know much,” Professor Cai said. “Not just me—Old Su and a few others here either knew your uncle or knew of him.”

Song Fenglan shot Professor Su a look. Had she known earlier, she would’ve come crawling to them sooner. While they couldn’t extend aid to her parents in the labor camp, assisting her—a soldier’s wife—would’ve been possible. Still, it was her uncle who had been their friend, not her father—there was a difference.

“Your uncle was extraordinary even in his youth,” Professor Cai said. “We’d set up challenges, and he could wipe the floor with us single-handedly.”

Professor Cai recalled those past events, finding it all such a waste.

"You take after your uncle," Professor Cai said, looking at Song Fenglan as if seeing Song Xingyun again. If Song Xingyun were still alive, would he have pointed out the problems just as effortlessly? Would he still have teased, "Lao Cai, don’t be such a pushover—what, you think we need another dish?"

"For as long as I can remember, I’ve never met my uncle. I only heard about him from my parents," Song Fenglan said. "Back then, our home had many books, all of which my uncle had read."

Now, those books were long gone, confiscated by the Revolutionary Committee, their whereabouts unknown. Some even stomped on them, saying they were less useful than firewood.

Back then, Song Fenglan had witnessed it all. She had reached out to protect the books, but her parents held her back, not letting her intervene. They didn’t want her to get hurt. Understanding their concern, Song Fenglan could only endure silently, tears streaming down her face.

"Raised around all that, of course you’re sharp," Professor Cai remarked with emotion.

"Xingyun’s niece was bound to be sharp—she’s my niece too," Professor Su said.

"If she can be your niece, then she can be mine too," Professor Cai said. "Xingyun and I even shared a dormitory once—we were as close as brothers."

Professor Cai remembered the trouble they had gotten into together, the times they had run away, and the fun they had shared.

Over at Mrs. Su’s, Qin Zihang was on his best behavior. She had him eat lunch and take a nap. After he woke up, she took him out for a stroll.

"Yes, this is my grandnephew."

"Since when do you have a grandnephew?"

"Captain Qin’s wife is my husband’s niece—my niece too. Their child is naturally our grandnephew."

"So she’s your niece? That poor girl—fresh to the base and already getting pushed around..."

Some folks just couldn’t resist stirring the pot, deliberately bringing up Shi Guilan’s actions in front of Mrs. Su, as if afraid she wouldn’t know.

"That child is too kind-hearted. Even when bullied badly, she was too scared to come to us," Mrs. Su sighed. "Only when she had no other choice did she finally seek us out. When she came, her uncle wasn’t even home. Didn’t want to be a bother, so she went back to eat at her own place."

"Mom says if you tilt your head up, the tears won’t drop," Qin Zihang said, holding Mrs. Su’s hand.

"Did your mom cry?" someone asked.

"Mom tilted her head up," Qin Zihang replied.

So she *did* cry!

Those listening thought they had uncovered the truth. Of course, Captain Qin’s wife, fragile as she is, must have cried—probably hiding her tears in secret. A newcomer to the military base couldn’t possibly stand up to those who had been there for years. She probably choked it all down in silence.

Song Fenglan hadn’t cried, unaware of what her son had said. She had indeed told him that tilting his head up would keep tears from falling—but she hadn’t done it to hold back tears. She hadn’t shed any.

Mrs. Su had no way of knowing if Song Fenglan had cried, but if Qin Zihang said so, then it must be true.

"My poor Hangbao, your mom’s had it rough too. It’s all because your uncles, aunts, and elders didn’t take good enough care of you," Mrs. Su said, hugging Qin Zihang. "Your mom didn’t even say a word when she came."

"Mom said we shouldn’t make the elders worry," Qin Zihang replied softly, patting Mrs. Su’s hand like a little adult.

"Your mom is just too considerate," Mrs. Su said, shedding a couple of tears. "From now on, Auntie’s got you. Don’t be afraid."

"Mm-hmm, I’ll listen to Auntie," Qin Zihang said.

Mrs. Su got along with everyone. She didn’t have a job and often chatted with others, helping them out. Most of the people she interacted with were older, like the Wu family next door. After hearing her out, they all thought Shi Guilan had crossed a line.

"That’s Staff Officer Xu’s wife—she was the other woman before the first wife even died," someone said. "She acts one way in public and another in private, always finding excuses to yell at them. Your niece is gentle and soft—how could she possibly stand up to her? That woman must have thought your niece had no one to back her up and picked on her without mercy."

"You said it," Mrs. Su wiped the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief. "Usually, I don’t like to speak up when I hear such things. At our age, we can’t go sticking our noses into everything. But this is our niece—my poor niece, who hasn’t been here long and is already being bullied like this. Just because she didn’t come to us for help, just because she has no one to rely on, does that mean she deserves to be treated this way?"

"Mom didn’t ruin my life," Qin Zihang couldn’t help but speak up after hearing Mrs. Su’s words. "Mom treasures me the most, and she’s so good to me! I don’t want a stepmom, I don’t want a stepmom, I don’t want a bad stepmom!"

"What a piece of work," someone nearby remarked. "Staff Officer Xu’s wife is no good—looks like her whole family’s got a thing for being stepmothers!"

When Shi Guilan found out that Song Fenglan was actually Professor Su’s niece, she nearly fainted from anger. How could this be? How could this be?

"Song Fenglan’s surname is Song, not Su. How could she possibly be Professor Su’s niece? Professor Su’s wife isn’t surnamed Song either!" Shi Guilan glared at her cousin, her eyes nearly popping out of her head. "Who said this? Who’s spreading such nonsense?"