Chapter 41: Dowry, Sour Oranges

Chapter 41: The Dowry and Bitter Oranges

"That was all a long time ago," Qin’s sister-in-law said. "Back then, Sister-in-law had just gotten pregnant, didn’t you also have doubts? Even outsiders were gossiping."

Sister-in-law Qin thought she shouldn’t bear the blame alone. At the time, Qin Yizhou had stayed in the capital for such a short period that she’d assumed the child wasn’t his. She wasn’t alone—plenty of others agreed.

"And Mom, don’t you remember? You even called your youngest son to ask about it," Sister-in-law Qin continued. "Maybe you slipped up?"

"..." It came back to her now. Back then, she had angrily ordered her youngest son to divorce Song Fenglan, saying Song Fenglan was pregnant with someone else's child. Qin Yizhou had insisted repeatedly that the child was his, and only then did Qin’s mother choose to believe him.

"Do you remember now?" Sister-in-law Qin pressed. "The child also spent time with you. I wasn’t the only one around them all the time."

She was hinting—Qin’s mother was the one who had influenced the child. She hadn’t solely acted on her own; she’d just followed their lead. Had they treated Song Fenglan better, if they hadn’t made their disdain so obvious, she’d have held back.

In the end, it all came down to the elders’ attitudes.

"Did she rush back to tattle?" Sister-in-law Qin asked. "She remembers everything so clearly."

"She didn’t say anything like that today," Qin’s mother replied. She had gone with Qin’s aunt.

"Then who did?" Sister-in-law Qin pressed.

After speaking, she glanced at her husband. She’d been walking on eggshells lately—she couldn’t dump everything on her. Though she had indeed said such things, she wasn’t the only one. They couldn’t pin it all on her.

Qin’s mother always claimed she wasn’t in good health, pushing the errands onto Sister-in-law Qin instead. But it wasn’t about her health—it was that Qin’s mother simply couldn’t stand the sight of her daughter-in-law, Song Fenglan.

In the past, Qin’s mother had praised Sister-in-law Qin for doing well. Now, she nitpicked everything she did.

"Enough," Qin’s father couldn’t take it anymore. He stood up and walked toward his room.

Seeing her husband like this, Qin’s mother sighed. She felt exhausted. As a mother-in-law, she had gone to the train station to welcome her daughter-in-law, yet Song Fenglan hadn’t given her any face—not a word, not even “Mom.” Even the child hadn’t called her “Grandma.” Only Qin Yizhou had spoken up, addressing her as “Mom,” but Qin’s mother still felt it wasn’t enough.

She believed that as a mother-in-law, she’d swallowed her pride. Her daughter-in-law should have taken the opportunity to reconcile.

Last night, Qin’s mother had even dreamed of picking up Song Fenglan, who had taken her arm and said, "Mom, wherever you say we should live, we’ll live there."

Qin’s father and mother weren’t from particularly distinguished backgrounds. Qin’s father had originally been a farmer from the countryside, with traditional views—the eldest son was the one to support them in their dotage. With their eldest son by their side, Qin’s father naturally leaned toward relying on him in the future. And if Qin’s father thought this way, Qin’s mother did even more so.

With their peasant roots, their minds were stuck in the past. Qin’s mother still clung to the idea that she was the mother-in-law, the one to be respected.

All those years, she had thrown her weight around, making Sister-in-law Qin deliver money and goods—wasn’t that just her asserting her authority as the mother-in-law? She was the elder; why should she go to her daughter-in-law? It should be the daughter-in-law kowtowing to her.

But Song Fenglan was strong-willed. As long as she could manage, she wouldn’t go to Qin’s mother. She wouldn’t let them wipe their feet on her. If the Qin family looked down on her, she simply wouldn’t go. She wasn’t about to beg from them.

Fortunately, Qin Yizhou sent money and ration coupons to Song Fenglan, so she could live more comfortably.

The Song family had prepared many things—the wardrobe was filled with clothes for winter, spring, and autumn. Song’s mother and the others had gone back first, leaving the three of them to unwind.

"Mom, flowers!" Qin Zihang pointed at the bouquet in the living room.

"Yes, flowers," Song Fenglan said with a smile. She had loved flowers as a child, even digging up soil to plant them, though hers never grew very well.

"Are they pretty?" she asked Qin Zihang.

"Pretty," he nodded.

Song Fenglan turned on the TV in the living room, letting Qin Zihang watch.

Qin Yizhou sat nearby. He had to admit, the Song family had arranged everything perfectly. If it had been the Qin family, they could never have managed it so well—there would have been too many complications.

These things must have cost a considerable amount of money, and Sister-in-law Qin wouldn’t have made Qin’s parents foot such a big bill.

They had a TV, a radio, a sewing machine—even a small car parked outside.

After the Song family’s political rehabilitation, they still had some connections, allowing them to acquire these items. The Song family wanted to give Song Fenglan the best—she was their baby, after all she’d been through.

Sister Song had no objections. In the past, she hadn’t had much money herself. Now, the Song family was well-off, and Sister Song had money to spare—why sweat the small stuff? She was really grateful to Qin Yizhou and his wife for their immense help. Besides, these items originally belonged to Song Fenglan’s parents, so she had every right to them.

"Mom and Dad got us so much stuff, we barely need to buy a thing," Qin Yizhou said.

They had just arrived and hadn’t even had the chance to buy gifts for the Song family.

The train ride was way too long with a kid in tow. Qin Yizhou suggested bringing some specialties from Nancheng, but Song Fenglan declined, saying it would be troublesome to carry too much on the train. They could just mail the dry goods. Besides, the capital had plenty of things available.

Since Song Fenglan said so, Qin Yizhou didn’t bring anything. All that mattered was getting there in one piece, not complicating things further.

"Mom," Qin Zihang stared intently at the television—they hadn’t had one in Nancheng.

Professor Su’s household didn’t have a TV either; very few families had one installed. Qin Zihang had never watched TV in Nancheng, not even at his aunt’s place.

Now, seeing the TV, he was mesmerized.

"Go on, watch it," Song Fenglan gently ruffled Qin Zihang’s hair.

Qin Yizhou thought this place was way nicer than their home in Nancheng—even better than his parents’ place. He thought about the house his family had prepared for them—it definitely wouldn’t be this nice, likely much worse.

"It’s soft," Qin Zihang said, sinking into the sofa.

"Your grandma picked this out," Song Fenglan said with a smile.

"Mom, can we take the TV with us?" Qin Zihang wondered if they could still watch it back in Nancheng.

This was a color TV—not even black-and-white. That’s how much the Song family cared—going all out.

When Song Fenglan’s parents left, her mom secretly handed her a bankbook stuffed with cash. Additionally, she told Song Fenglan there was a safe in the cabinet—part of the dowry the Song family had prepared for her, to be checked later.

Song Fenglan hadn’t looked inside the safe yet, so she didn’t know what was in it, but she guessed it must be valuable. Her folks wouldn’t bother locking up cheap stuff.

"Once we return to Nancheng, we’ll buy a television there," Song Fenglan said.

Their home in Nancheng had a radio, sewing machine, even a fridge—just no TV. Song Fenglan thought they could buy one after returning, so the child could watch it at home. Mrs. Su, who watched the kids, could also enjoy it.

"We’ll get one just like this—color and all," Song Fenglan said.

A TV coupon? No problem.

"This kind looks nice," Song Fenglan glanced at Qin Yizhou.

"Your call," Qin Yizhou kept a small portion of his salary and gave the rest to Song Fenglan. He knew the Songs had hooked her up good, while he could offer so little.

At this moment, Qin Yizhou kinda felt useless.

"So cool," Qin Zihang insisted, loving the television. "Mom, there are little people inside—will they run out?"

"They’re just actors on TV. They can’t really come out," Song Fenglan explained.

"Are they stuck in there?" Qin Zihang asked again.

"No, it's recorded footage, just like taking photos. No one’s trapped in there," said Song Fenglan.

When Qin Zihang heard 'photos,' he got it.

Cao Fang wasn’t sitting in the living room; she was in the guest room, tidying up her things first. She needed to shower, wash clothes, and hang them out to dry. Cao Fang noticed that the guest room she was staying in was quite nice, with a vase holding fresh flowers, making it feel really homey.

Cao Fang didn’t dwell on whether the Song family were capitalists—after all, they had been rehabilitated. Moreover, those chaotic times were over, and relevant leaders had already held meetings, allowing families like the Songs to be cleared of past accusations.

In the living room, Qin Zihang had no intention of going to bed early. He was glued to the TV, totally into it, hugging his stuffed panda while watching.

Qin Zihang also loved this house—it was spacious and filled with so many things. The toys were all his alone; he didn’t have to share them with anyone, and no one would take them from him.

Seeing Qin Zihang like this, Song Fenglan thought about how tough things had been for her son before. She wanted him to live a better life now. It was fine—as time progressed, they would be able to provide him with an even better life, so he wouldn’t have to struggle all the time.

When the Jiang family learned that Song Fenglan and her husband had brought their child over, Sister Jiang didn’t hurry over to the Songs’ place or visit Song Fenglan’s home immediately.

Sister Jiang thought that since others were having a reunion, there was no reason for her to butt in. She genuinely didn’t believe her family was a welcome presence, given how they had treated Song Fenglan before. Though Sister Jiang and the others hadn’t driven Song Fenglan away, their attitudes hadn’t exactly been welcoming, and they had occasionally made remarks.

Sister Jiang was aware of her past actions, which was why she didn’t frequently visit the Song family. You’ve gotta know where you stand—getting some benefit was enough; there was no need to demand more. Did they think others were fools?

The Song family treated the Jiang family decently, mainly because the Jiangs had sheltered Song Fenglan and her son for several years. Though the Jiangs weren’t the most pleasant with their words, they hadn’t mistreated Song Fenglan either—they were better than many other families. The Songs weren’t the type to forget a favor now.

Back then, Song Fenglan had been dependent on others, and some people around her had behaved far worse. It was all relative.

Jiang Yufei was the nastiest of the Jiangs, but at least the rest didn’t just go along with her. That was enough.

You can’t expect everyone in someone else’s house to be saints.

The Song family understood this, and so did Song Fenglan.

"Mom," Qin Zihang took a bite of the egg cake, "it’s delicious. Have some, Mom."

"Your grandma made it," Song Fenglan said. "She knows how to make all kinds of pastries."

"Did Grandma make this for me?" Qin Zihang asked.

"Yes, specially for you, for all of us," Song Fenglan nodded. "If you want to eat something, just tell your grandma. She’ll definitely try to make it for you."

"Grandma is so nice," Qin Zihang said. "She even gave me lucky money."

The Song family had given Qin Zihang red envelopes, explaining that since they hadn’t given them before, they were giving the greeting ones now. New Year’s cash gifts were a different thing.

Song Fenglan didn’t make her son return the red envelopes to the Song family. Instead, she let Qin Zihang keep them. She peeked inside the envelopes—two contained a hundred yuan each, while another had two hundred. One was from Song’s parents together, another from Second Brother Song and his wife, and the two-hundred-yuan one was from Song’s parents alone.

"Later, I’ll exchange these for smaller bills," Song Fenglan said. "So you don’t lose it if you take it with you."

It was quite a sum—many families might not even have that much money. The Song family treated Qin Zihang exceptionally well. The red envelopes added up to four hundred yuan, more than some families spent on a wedding dowry.

"Just take the money out and leave the empty envelope," Qin Zihang said.

"Don’t you need money to buy snacks?" Song Fenglan asked.

"Mom and Dad will buy them, Grandpa and Grandma will buy them, and Uncle will too," Qin Zihang said. Even though he’d just met them, he already loved his grandparents.

"Alright," Song Fenglan didn’t dare let Qin Zihang go out to buy things alone.

The Song family had also prepared a red envelope for Cao Fang, but she declined it. Cao Fang figured she was there to work, not for leisure, so no way was she taking gifts. After she kept saying no, the Songs dropped it.

In Cao Fang’s room, there were also pastries and other snacks that the Song family had left for her. They had told her that if she got hungry at night, she could eat those without needing to go downstairs. If she wanted to cook something, the fridge and pantry were packed with food.

Around nine in the evening, Qin Zihang fell asleep hugging his panda plush. Qin Yizhou carried his son upstairs and put him to sleep in the room next to theirs. Qin Zihang loved the room—it was very nice. While watching TV earlier, he had even said he wanted to sleep in the new room.

Song Fenglan worried Qin Zihang might wake up at night looking for his parents—she feared he wouldn’t adjust well to the new house. But since Qin Zihang insisted on sleeping in the new room, Song Fenglan didn’t stop him.

Back in their own room, Song Fenglan and Qin Yizhou had already showered and changed into pajamas, lying on the bed.

“Mom and Dad… the house my parents prepared definitely isn’t as good as this one,” Qin Yizhou said.

“Afraid I’d be unhappy?” Song Fenglan asked.

“Not exactly, but the house there is much worse,” Qin Yizhou replied.

“That doesn’t matter. This is a house in the capital,” Song Fenglan said. “Even if we don’t live here, we can rent it out and earn income. I don’t mind.”

Song Fenglan truly didn’t mind—after all, this was the capital. Prices are low now, but they’ll shoot up later, making these properties extremely valuable.

“Our family situations are different. There’s no need to compare,” Song Fenglan said as she applied skincare products to her face and hands—products her mother had bought for her. It felt wonderful having her mother around; she didn’t have to do or ask for much, as her mother took care of everything.

“Mm,” Qin Yizhou nodded slightly. “Zi Hang really likes it here.”

“Of course,” Song Fenglan said. “Zi Hang had never even seen a TV before.”

“Don’t say that—you’re not useless,” Qin Yizhou said.

“You’re far from useless. Your sister-in-law even said your uncle saved her child. If it weren’t for you, would your uncle have helped them so much?” Song Fenglan reassured him. “Don’t underestimate yourself. You have great strength.”

Earlier, the Song family had told Song Fenglan about these things, which was why she held Qin Yizhou in such high regard. The other Qins might not be great, but as long as Qin Yizhou was, it didn’t matter—they weren’t living with the Qin family anyway.

Suddenly, Song Fenglan remembered her mother’s safe. She got out of bed, opened the wardrobe, and retrieved the safe. After inserting the key and entering the password, she opened it to find several items inside, including a few gold bars.

When the Song family had been sent to the labor farm, they had hidden many gold bars. Though much of their property had been confiscated, some had been returned—real estate, jewelry, and money. Not all the jewelry had survived, but some remained.

Her mother couldn’t help feeling regretful—they hadn’t been able to hide everything back then. If they had, people would have searched relentlessly, accusing them of hoarding. But even if they hadn’t hidden anything, people would still have claimed they did. They had to leave scraps for others to grab.

“This is…” Qin Yizhou was shocked when he saw the contents. “So much?”

“It’s enough,” Song Fenglan said, pleased. She hadn’t expected a certain amount, but since her family was willing to give it to her, she would naturally accept it.

However, since they wouldn’t be staying here long and would return to Nancheng, these items needed to be hidden—whether in a bank’s safe deposit box or elsewhere. Either way, the Songs had treated her well.

“All of this is legal,” Song Fenglan said, looking at Qin Yizhou.

“Legal, of course it’s legal,” Qin Yizhou replied. “Your parents have been rehabilitated. Everything here is legal.”

There was no way Qin Yizhou would say any of this was problematic—it wasn’t, absolutely not.

The next morning, early, Qin Yizhou made breakfast. After eating, they picked up gifts on their way to the Songs’. They couldn’t show up without gifts—yesterday had been a special circumstance.

“Are you settling in well?” Song Fenglan’s mother took her hand, carefully examining her daughter’s face. Song Fenglan had blossomed, and though she had been delicate and gentle as a child, she was much stronger now.

“Yes, very well,” Song Fenglan said with a smile. “You wouldn’t believe it—Zi Hang was practically nodding off but insisted on watching TV.”

The Songs had laid out blankets on the sofa, anticipating that Qin Zihang and the others might get cold while sitting there. They hadn’t just prepared one blanket—each seat had its own, thick and plush.

With Song Fenglan and her husband sitting there with their child, they didn’t have to worry about him getting cold.

“Glad you’re settling in,” Song Fenglan’s mother said. “Just say the word if you need anything.”

"It's perfect as is," said Song Fenglan. "Mom, do you keep thinking there might be something missing and keep adding things to it every now and then?"

Last night, standing in the house her parents had given her, Song Fenglan kept imagining them tirelessly running back and forth. The house was just a ten-minute walk from the Song family home. The Song family had wanted to buy her an even closer place, but none were available for sale at the time.

The house Song Fenglan was currently living in had originally been intended by her parents for Second Brother Song. Once he got married and moved out, it wouldn’t be ideal for two brothers and their wives to live under the same roof, as conflicts between sisters-in-law could easily arise. Now that Second Brother Song wasn’t married yet, the house was given to Song Fenglan first, and he had no objections. He could still get another property—the Song family owned several houses, all in decent locations.

"We’ve been adding things little by little," said Mother Song. "Your sister-in-law has two kids, doesn’t she? Sometimes when she sees something her own children need, she’ll buy extras for your place too."

"We should thank Sister-in-law," said Song Fenglan.

"Why thank me?" Sister-in-law Song laughed. "It’s not my money anyway—I just ran the errands."

"You…" Mother Song noted that Qin Yizhou’s parents were still alive. In those days, it was understandable that the Qin family had looked down on Song Fenglan, but Mother Song didn’t want her daughter to have too much contact with them. Still, they had to maintain appearances.

After all, the Qin family had raised Qin Yizhou, and his parents were his biological mother and father. Song Fenglan and her husband had to go see them at least once.

"My parents have already divided the family assets," Qin Yizhou spoke up. "We’ll get one house, and the rest will go to Qin Yizhou’s eldest brother. From now on, my parents will be taken care of by him—we won’t need to provide additional support. Giving those things to Qin Yizhou’s eldest brother counts as our contribution to their care."

The Song family didn’t criticize the Qin family, but Qin Yizhou knew all too well how unreasonable they had been. He wanted the Songs to know where he stood.

"My parents drew up a written agreement for Qin Yizhou’s eldest brother," Qin Yizhou added. "It’s official now."

"That’s fine," said Second Brother Song. "Some things need to be in writing. Otherwise, people might later claim it wasn’t valid."

"It won’t be invalid," Qin Yizhou said.

"..." Second Brother Song glanced at Qin Yizhou. Did he really trust his brother and sister-in-law to keep their word? In the future, who knew?

Second Brother Song knew how people could be. Qin Yizhou wasn’t ignorant of it—he just still held some trust in his family. Well, if Qin Yizhou still trusted them, fine. Second Brother Song just hoped the Qin family wouldn’t stir up too much trouble later and that Qin Yizhou’s eldest brother would properly care for their parents in their old age.

"When are you going over?" Mother Song asked. "Morning would be better. Afternoon… usually mornings are preferred."

She didn’t know if the Qins had any traditions, but she worried they might make a fuss over nothing. Visitors from far away wouldn’t fuss over timing. The fact that Qin Yizhou and Song Fenglan had come to the Song family first today instead of heading straight to the Qin family showed how much he valued her.

"We’ll go tomorrow," Qin Yizhou replied. "No hurry today."

"The day after is New Year’s Eve," Second Brother Song said. "Where will you spend it?"

"Feng Lan can decide," Qin Yizhou said.

"What do *you* want?" Second Brother Song pressed.

"If possible, I’d like to spend it with Mom, Dad, and you. Feng Lan hasn’t seen you all in years, and it’s been just as long since she celebrated New Year’s with you," Qin Yizhou said. "A big reunion would be great."

"But if my sister stays here for New Year’s, what about your folks?"

"They have Qin Yizhou’s eldest brother and his wife with them," Qin Yizhou said. "I’ll be wherever Feng Lan is."

"Me too! Me too!" Qin Zihang piped up, afraid they’d forget about him. "I wanna stay with Grandma!"

He had just been playing with his cousin, who had given him a toy train. Qin Zihang was having a great time.

"Cousin gave this to me," he said, holding up the train for his mother to see. "My older cousin would take it."

He hated going to his grandparents’—he never wanted to stay. He preferred his cousins, who gave him snacks and toys to play with.

"We have some at home," Song Fenglan said. She’d spotted them in his room last night.

"If Hangbao likes it, let him play with it. He can take it back later," Sister Song said. "It's just a toy."

Sister Song wasn’t one to hold grudges. She had already told her own children to be kind to Qin Zihang, saying that their little cousin was still young and they should dote on him more. She wasn’t worried about Qin Zihang being mischievous—her own kids could afford to be more accommodating. After all, Qin Zihang was only back for the New Year and wouldn’t stay for long.

"Auntie, you’re the best!" Qin Zihang said sweetly.

"Our Hangbao is such a sweetheart," Sister Song said with a smile. "Come, Auntie will take you to eat something delicious."

Sister Song took Qin Zihang to play with her own two children. She had already brought over some pastries and snacks earlier and now added more treats. By watching the kids, Sister Song allowed Song Fenglan and her mother to chat more freely.

Meanwhile, Qin’s big aunt had arrived at the Qin household, wondering when Song Fenglan and her family would come. She waited for quite a while but didn’t see Qin Zihang or his parents arrive.

"They just got back and must be tired. If they don’t come today, they’ll surely come tomorrow," Qin’s big aunt said.

"Will Auntie stay for lunch today?" Sister-in-law Qin asked. "We’ve prepared quite a few dishes."

Sister-in-law Qin said this pointedly—those dishes had been specially prepared for Qin Yizhou’s family. She had been coming over in the mornings and leaving in the evenings these past few days, but Qin’s parents still hadn’t allowed them to move back in.

"In such cold weather, the food won’t spoil easily," Qin’s big aunt said. "Since they aren’t coming, there’s no need to cook so much."

"The way they live… they’re probably used to leftovers," Sister-in-law Qin remarked. "If they come tomorrow, we’ll have to prepare fresh dishes. Who knows if they’ll come in the afternoon? And if they do, will they stay for dinner?"

"Let’s just make it an early New Year’s feast and cook more dishes," Qin’s mother said.

Qin’s mother kept glancing at the door, waiting for Qin Yizhou’s family to arrive. She kept hoping they’d show up soon, but Qin Yizhou and his wife didn’t bring their child over.

In the afternoon, Song Fenglan and her husband took Qin Zihang to visit Aunt Yu, bringing many gifts with them. They were off for two weeks, but with the long train ride and the possibility of unexpected events, they wanted to start visiting relatives early.

"You shouldn’t have brought so much just to see us," Aunt Yu said.

"We bought these in the capital," Song Fenglan explained. "Since we took a long-distance train, it wasn’t convenient to carry much, so we didn’t bring any specialties from Nan City for you."

"The dried goods you sent before were enough," Aunt Yu said.

Aunt Yu’s mother-in-law wasn’t home—Old Lady Jiang liked getting out of the house. When Song Fenglan had stayed with the Jiang family, Old Lady Jiang had spoken little. She’d been weighing the gifts the Song family had sent before—as long as they received something, it was fine for them to take Song Fenglan in.

If there had been no benefits at all, Old Lady Jiang would have had a lot to say if Aunt Yu insisted on sheltering Song Fenglan, though she might not necessarily have driven her away.

Old Lady Jiang was sharp as a tack. When Aunt Yu had first brought Song Fenglan over, she’d picked a fight with her daughter-in-law on purpose to let the neighbors know they had no choice—it was Aunt Yu who insisted on taking Song Fenglan in. This way, Song Fenglan’s staying seemed reasonable.

Folks would just see the Jiangs as good people. Old Lady Jiang wasn’t some kid who’d throw fits like Jiang Yufei. Once she got her way, she dropped it.

"How much time off do you have? When are you going back?" Aunt Yu asked.

"We’ve got two weeks, but we’ll probably have to return around the fourth or fifth day of the New Year," Song Fenglan said.

"That’s not much time," Aunt Yu remarked.

"Have some tea," Sister Jiang said, bringing over the tea and sitting nearby. "Stay for dinner tonight."

"Oh, we couldn’t," Song Fenglan declined. "We’d better get back—stuff to do at home."

Song Fenglan had spent many years here and didn’t want to stay any longer. Even if they treated her better now, she still didn’t like being here. Nobody wanted to dredge up old hurts—everyone just wanted to live more comfortably.

"Oh… well, alright." Sister Jiang had been about to say, "What’s so important?" but quickly realized how inappropriate that would sound and changed her words.

"Look, Auntie—Mom made this!" Qin Zihang said, holding up a stuffed panda for Aunt Yu to see.

"Your mom is quite skilled," said Aunt Yu. "She takes after your grandmother."

Qin Yizhou peeled an orange and handed half to Song Fenglan. After eating a segment, Song Fenglan nearly winced from the sourness and shot Qin Yizhou a look. Peeling fewer oranges was wise—they were a gamble. At someone else's home, she couldn't just spit out the sour fruit; she had to grin and bear it.

"So sour," Qin Yizhou said, having just popped a segment into Qin Zihang's mouth. Being a child, Qin Zihang couldn't handle it and immediately spat it out. "Too sour!"

"This orange... is probably on the sour side," Sister Jiang said awkwardly. "Have something else."

Sister Jiang felt a little embarrassed—she hadn’t intentionally served sour oranges to guests, but the family simply didn’t have much. With a household that wasn’t small and elderly to care for, they had to save money for emergencies. Just having fruit was already a treat.

Some families didn’t even have sour oranges, and plenty of folks weren’t picky—they were just happy to have any fruit.

"Let your dad eat it," Song Fenglan said. "He’s the one who peeled it."

She had already passed her half back to Qin Yizhou—no way was she eating that sour thing.

"Just leave it, no need to eat it," Aunt Yu said.

"It’s so sour it could rot your teeth," Qin Zihang declared.

Song Fenglan patted her son’s head, not particularly embarrassed. It was fine in front of Aunt Yu, but saying such things elsewhere wouldn’t have been appropriate.

After all, in these times, ordinary families didn’t have much to offer. The fact that they were served oranges at all was already generous.

When Song Fenglan used to stay with Aunt Yu, the Jiang family rarely ate fruit. If Sister Jiang took food to her room to eat, it was nothing unusual—perfectly normal. Folks worked hard to scrape together a little extra for their own children, not to feed someone else’s. Hadn’t Song Fenglan herself sneaked treats to Qin Zihang?

They were all the same—pot calling the kettle black.

Song Fenglan didn’t blame Sister Jiang much. At least her selfishness was more bearable than Sister-in-law Qin’s. No wonder they say it's all relative—wasn’t that the truth?

In the Jiang family, the person Song Fenglan disliked the most was Jiang Yufei. She'd actually gone out of her way to make life difficult for Song Fenglan, even trying to drive her out.

"It’s fine," Qin Yizhou said, eating the orange himself. Since he’d peeled it, he couldn't exactly make others eat it, nor could he waste food.

Song Fenglan watched as Qin Yizhou ate without so much as a frown and poked him. He wasn’t swallowing the segments whole—he was chewing them.

"When I was out in the field, having sour fruit was already a blessing," Qin Yizhou said. During missions, when rations ran out, we'd scrounge for whatever berries we could find. You took what you could get—whatever we found, we ate.

"Go on, eat up," Song Fenglan didn’t stop him.

"Dad, are you pregnant?" Qin Zihang suddenly asked. "Am I getting a little brother or sister?"

Qin Yizhou almost choked. Pregnant? Me?

Aunt Yu and the others burst out laughing.

"Mommies who are having babies like sour things—sour oranges," Qin Zihang continued. "If Daddy's having a baby, does that mean he eats sour oranges too?"

"No," Qin Yizhou swallowed the sour segment, deadpan. "Men can’t get pregnant."

"Huh?" Qin Zihang didn’t understand.

"Only women can get pregnant, not men," Qin Yizhou explained.

"But babies come from both mom and dad, right? If mom can have one, why can’t dad?" Qin Zihang was confused. Where was the mistake? "Aren't I your baby?"

"Yes, you’re my baby. I’m not pregnant," Qin Yizhou said firmly. "Mom and Dad aren’t giving you a little brother or sister."

"No little brother or sister?" Qin Zihang sighed in disappointment. "Dad, I wouldn’t mind. If you're pregnant, go ahead and have it." Song Fenglan laughed until her stomach hurt. Qin Zihang had perfect timing.

"Dad isn't pregnant, only moms can get pregnant," Qin Yizhou said. "Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah," Zi Hang replied.

"..." Qin Yizhou felt his son was just humoring him.

"Auntie, we’d better get going," Feng Lan said, standing up.

"Really not staying for dinner?" Auntie Yu asked.

"No, thank you," Feng Lan answered.

Qin Yizhou picked up Zi Hang, while Cao Fang walked beside Feng Lan. As they reached the door, they ran into Old Mrs. Jiang returning home.

"Stay for dinner," Old Mrs. Jiang offered.

"No, thank you. We have things to do. We’ll head back first," Feng Lan said.

"Mm," Old Mrs. Jiang nodded, watching their retreating figures.

She was puzzled—who was that woman beside Feng Lan?

"That woman with Feng Lan, is she also your niece?" Old Mrs. Jiang asked Auntie Yu. "Never seen her before."

"No," Auntie Yu replied. "She’s a female soldier, here to protect Feng Lan."

"A female soldier?" Old Mrs. Jiang was surprised. "My word, when did Feng Lan become so important that she has a soldier protecting her?"

"I’m not too sure, didn’t ask. Her uncle was a prominent scientist, assassinated overseas," Auntie Yu explained.

"They’d made the right choice letting Feng Lan stay," Old Mrs. Jiang nodded.

If Jiang Yufei had been there, she would’ve complained—why could Feng Lan’s mother marry into such a good family while Auntie Yu only married a worker? But those were war-torn times—staying alive was more important than who you married.

When Feng Lan and the others returned to the Song household, Zi Hang blurted out, "Grandma, I’m going to have a little brother or sister!"

"Brother or sister?" Mother Song was confused, looking at Feng Lan. "Are you pregnant?"

"Not Mom, it’s Dad who’s pregnant!" Zi Hang insisted. "Dad’s tummy has a baby in there!"

Qin Yizhou almost lost his footing. He should’ve known Zi Hang had been humoring him earlier. He’d already said he wasn’t pregnant, that only moms could be—no, wait, Zi Hang’s mom wasn’t pregnant either right now.

"Mom, we had some tart oranges at Auntie’s place today, and Zi Hang insists that eating them means I’m pregnant," Qin Yizhou explained, relieved at least that Zi Hang wasn’t accusing them of having an affair (though that would’ve been less embarrassing).

"Dad ate a whole tart orange—if he’s not pregnant, then what is it?" Zi Hang stamped his foot and pouted, still unconvinced. "Dad should go to the hospital and check, then we’ll know!"

Wanted to die of embarrassment, Qin Yizhou wished he could sink through the floor. He turned to Feng Lan for help.

Feng Lan gave him a look: *He’s your son—you deal with it,* she added, rolling her eyes.

"I promise I won’t get jealous, I won’t hurt the baby. Dad can have it," Zi Hang ballied his tiny fists. "I’m a big brother—I can protect my little brother or sister," he added proudly.