Chapter 48: Making Up, Do You Know Who I Am?

Chapter 48: Making Amends. Do You Know Who I Am?

"Is this like growing vegetables?" Song Fenglan looked at the earthworms in her son's hand.

"Mom, didn’t you say before? If an earthworm is cut in half, it can turn into two worms." Qin Zihang wasn’t scared of the earthworms at all and was squeezing one in his hand.

Song Fenglan had no desire to touch earthworms. She didn’t like them, nor did she like caterpillars. If she encountered one, she’d just steer clear. She never expected her son to be holding earthworms in his hands. Kids really are fearless.

"Toss them aside first. Not everything should be touched with your hands. Aren’t you afraid of getting bitten?" Song Fenglan said.

"But it’s not a snake," Qin Zihang replied.

"..." Song Fenglan fell silent. At least he knows not to grab snakes.

Qin Yizhou finished cooking and called Song Fenglan and their son to eat. "Food’s ready. Come and eat."

"It’s time to eat. Set them aside," Song Fenglan said.

"But they’ll crawl away," Qin Zihang said. "Can we keep them in something?"

Song Fenglan reluctantly found a bottle. She made Qin Yizhou help Qin Zihang put the earthworms inside—she wasn’t going to do it herself.

Qin Yizhou hadn’t seen his son handling earthworms earlier, but now that he did, he told him, "Don’t bring them near your mom. She’s afraid of them."

"Mom is afraid?" Qin Zihang didn’t understand. "They’re just little earthworms. They don’t bite, and they can feed the chicks."

"Not everyone likes earthworms," Qin Yizhou said.

"Mom didn’t say she was afraid," Qin Zihang said. "Doesn’t Mom like what I like too?"

"Mom might not like the same things you do," Qin Yizhou said.

"But if I like Daddy, does that mean Mom might not like Daddy? Is that how it works?" Qin Zihang asked.

"..." At this moment, Qin Yizhou felt his son needed a spanking. What kind of question was that—Mom might not like Daddy?

Qin Yizhou helped his son keep the earthworms in the bottle, then took him to wash his hands before letting Qin Zihang sit at the table to eat.

"Egg custard." Qin Yizhou scooped some soft custard for Qin Zihang. "Dig in."

"Mom, earthworms aren’t scary. Don’t be afraid," Qin Zihang said.

"Eat," Song Fenglan didn’t want to hear about earthworms at the dinner table. They’re disgusting, after all.

"Mom..."

"Finish up, then you can play," Qin Yizhou said. "Tomorrow, you’ll have your chicks."

"Okay!" Qin Zihang picked up his spoon and started eating. He wanted to eat more, not too little—he needed to eat a lot.

The next day, Auntie Fatty brought Song Fenglan two little chicks. They were tiny, with soft yellow down.

"Raise them for now. If they don’t grow, we can get more later," Auntie Fatty said. "Keep them in the yard. When the holidays come, you can butcher them for food."

Auntie Fatty had raised two chickens before, both of which had been butchered for food. Now she was raising two more chicks. If Granny Fang next door could raise so many without issue, she figured she could raise a couple more too—ideally a hen for eggs.

"Thank you," Song Fenglan handed Auntie Fatty the money for the chicks.

"Grow some cabbage or greens in your yard," Auntie Fatty said. "It doesn’t matter if the vegetables grow big or not—the chicks can eat the leaves. That way, they won’t cut into our own food."

Song Fenglan and her husband didn’t have much time to tend to fruits and vegetables, so the greens in their yard didn’t grow well. The flowers they had planted earlier didn’t do much better either. Still, with some plants and greenery around, the little chicks could find something to eat. They could toss in some vegetable leaves or corn kernels later, and the chickens would have enough to eat.

Granny Fang kept five chickens in her backyard, as Auntie Fatty had seen. Granny Fang had started raising the chicks last October, and some of the hens had already begun laying eggs.

Since selling things privately wasn’t allowed at the time, Granny Fang occasionally traded eggs with neighbors for other stuff. As long as no one reported it and they steered clear of the black market, there was no issue.

Having lived in the countryside for years, Granny Fang was quite skilled at raising chickens. Gao Xiuxiu, who worked at the supply and marketing cooperative, sometimes brought back scraps of wilted greens for the chickens.

Eggs were like gold—they could be traded for coarse grains or other necessities.

When Gao Xiuxiu was recovering after giving birth, Granny Fang cooked her some eggs and even slaughtered a chicken for her. Granny Fang thought this was mighty generous, recalling how she herself had hardly gotten any eggs or chicken during her own recovery—only after giving birth to a son did she get a few eggs, and even then, she had to return to work soon after. Yet here she was, treating Gao Xiuxiu well despite her having given birth to a daughter.

Granny Fang grimaced at the thought of her two granddaughters. She truly disliked having granddaughters—if only one of them had been a grandson.

"These two kids..." Granny Fang made egg flower soup, making sure there was enough for the whole family to share.

She picked out the egg chunks and gave them to Fang Xudong. It wasn’t like she was unfair—her son was in the military and needed the extra nutrition. As for Gao Xiuxiu, she should be glad she got anything at all; if she wanted eggs, she could have the soup—what more did she want?

Gao Xiuxiu watched as Granny Fang scooped out the eggs, leaving only scraps and some seaweed in the soup.

Being a coastal city, seaweed and other seafood were common—you made do with what the land and sea gave you.

"Eat," Granny Fang said, eyeing Gao Xiuxiu. "What’s wrong? Too good for you now? There’s egg in it—isn’t that good?"

"Mom, don’t we still have eggs at home?" Gao Xiuxiu asked. "We could fry some."

"With so many mouths to feed, we gotta stretch what we’ve got," Granny Fang retorted. "The hens don’t lay eggs every day. Eggs at every meal? Dream on. Didn’t you eat enough when you were pregnant? And you swore you were carrying a son—look how that turned out."

At the mention of the child, Gao Xiuxiu shrank under the shame of bearing a daughter.

She didn’t protest Granny Fang giving Fang Xudong most of the egg pieces. Fang Xudong, however, slipped some to his eldest daughter’s bowl.

"Let the child eat," he said.

"She’s fine," Granny Fang insisted. "You eat yours."

"She’s still growing—she needs more," Fang Xudong replied. "Good food helps her gain weight."

He had seen other children in the neighborhood—plump and healthy, like those raised by Auntie Fatty and Song Fenglan. Even other families in the compound had sturdy kids. But his own daughters were skin and bones. Folks’d think they didn’t feed ’em.

Fang Xudong couldn’t bear it. These were his own daughters—not some abandoned children. They deserved better.

His eldest daughter glanced up at him, and he smiled. "Go on, eat."

"Eat," Granny Fang echoed, though her tone was less warm.

"Mom," Fang Xudong said firmly, "we adults can manage, but the children are still small. Please cook eggs for them."

"Since when do girls need eggs?" Granny Fang frowned. "They get enough as it is."

"They’re too thin compared to other kids their age," Fang Xudong argued. "We don’t want people saying we’re starving them."

"You see her eating every day—I even feed her myself!" Granny Fang snapped.

The eldest daughter stayed quiet, already sensing the shift in her mother’s attitude since the pregnancy. She ate obediently, knowing that defiance meant going hungry.

"If she grows stronger, she can help care for her younger siblings later," Fang Xudong said, appealing to his mother’s pragmatism. "She’s your granddaughter—she’ll look after you someday."

"That’s easy for you to say, she’ll be married away someday," said Grandma Fang. "Fine, fine, if you want her to eat it, then let her eat it. She's my own granddaughter—it’s not like I’d mistreat her."

Grandma Fang was mainly worried about upsetting Fang Xudong. After her eldest granddaughter nearly drowned due to her own carelessness, she thought letting the girl have the eggs was fair enough. The younger granddaughter, however, missed out—partly because she was still too young to eat them, and partly because she’d already had her fill in her mother’s womb.

With the new chicks at home, the dog Fu Wangwang was temporarily sidelined.

Qin Zihang was fixated on digging up earthworms to feed the chicks. Yesterday, he emptied a container of earthworms in front of them.

"Are these too big? Do I need to chop them?" Qin Zihang asked.

He then bolted to the kitchen to grab a cleaver, determined to chop the earthworms.

Luckily, Qin Yizhou caught him in time and stopped him from using the cleaver, and gave him a smaller knife instead.

"Leave this knife here—don’t bring it inside," Qin Yizhou instructed.

Qin Zihang grabbed the knife eagerly, ready to slice the earthworms in half. But before he could, the chicks swallowed them whole.

"They ate it! They ate it!" Qin Zihang exclaimed in amazement. "How’d they do that? It was so long, and they just—gulped it down!"

These chicks weren’t hatchlings—they were a few days old. Older chicks were hardier, and these had been carefully selected by Auntie Fatty.

"Mom! The chicks just ate earthworms!" Qin Zihang shouted toward the house, wanting his mother to see. "Mom, come quick!"

Song Fenglan didn’t reply. In her past life, she’d heard of farms that bred earthworms on a large scale—they could even be used medicinally. But the idea of Qin Zihang raising earthworms made her uneasy.

"No need to raise them—they’ll turn up in the yard," Qin Yizhou said. "Plant some vegetables, and they’ll come."

"So the veggie leaves feed the chicks… and the earthworms too?" Qin Zihang asked.

"Earthworms eat soil, not leaves," Qin Yizhou corrected.

"Soil’s edible? Why don’t they eat the leaves? They’re so green and tender—we even stir-fry them!" Qin Zihang argued. "I eat them too, and they’re yummy. The worms are tiny—they’re probably picky."

Song Fenglan didn’t reply, leaving Qin Yizhou to handle it.

"Picky eaters miss out. Mom says you need all the nutrients," Qin Zihang reasoned. "You gotta eat everything to grow tall and smart."

"Earthworms don’t have to be smart," Qin Yizhou said.

"But if the worms are dumb, will the chicks turn dumb too?" Qin Zihang pressed. "And if I eat the chicks when they grow up, will I get dumb and slow?"

Qin Yizhou wondered if his son understood cause and effect—was this even a logical connection?

"Different creatures eat different things," he explained. "Earthworms like soil. They… help loosen the soil for vegetables."

"Oh! So they’re friends. Worms don’t eat friends," Qin Zihang concluded.

"Sure…" Qin Yizhou could only agree. He glanced at his wife—their son’s questions were getting weirder by the day.

Some were so odd that Qin Yizhou didn’t know how to answer, afraid of teaching him the wrong thing. Even though school would correct misconceptions later, parents shouldn’t feed kids wrong ideas.

"Baby chicks, baby chicks," Qin Zihang murmured, staring at the chicks. Then it hit him. "Mom! They don’t have names yet—we gotta name them!"

"You name them," said Song Fenglan. "Think about it—what names would you like?"

"Can I call them Little One and Little Two?" asked Qin Zihang. "Yi Yi and Er Er would work too. They don’t have to write their names, and they don’t have to worry about their names being changed."

Qin Zihang was really attached to these names and wouldn’t let it go. Finally, the two chicks got those names.

Song Fenglan couldn’t help but think it was a good thing she and Qin Yizhou hadn’t planned to give Qin Zihang a younger sibling. Otherwise, he might have insisted on naming them similarly, arguing that little siblings should have simple, easy-to-write names and that he wouldn’t let anyone change them.

The idea made her laugh under her breath.

"Mom, is it okay?" Qin Zihang asked again.

"Ask your dad," Song Fenglan replied.

"Dad, is it okay?" Qin Zihang pressed. "You’re not called Yi Yi, so the chicks can be called Yi Yi."

"Sure, sure," Qin Yizhou said, massaging his forehead. The kid had endless questions—how could he say no? After all, no one called Qin Yizhou "Yi Yi"; he was usually addressed as Qin Tuan [a family nickname], Qin Yizhou, or Yi Zhou.

Yi Yi—the chicks could have that name.

"Mom, can we mark them?" Qin Zihang added. "Put one dot on one and two dots on the other. One dot for Yi Yi and two for Er Er."

Though the chicks would molt, Song Fenglan still had Qin Yizhou fetch some ink to mark them.

When Zhang Xiaohu noticed the inked chicks later, he wanted his mother to do the same. Auntie Fatty wasn’t about to ink her chicks—she planned to clip their wings when they were older, which would serve as identification and prevent them from flying away.

When Auntie Fatty said no, Zhang Xiaohu made a mess with the ink instead. Qin Zihang had ‘kindly’ supplied the ink—children often watched their parents take things and knew where household items were kept.

When Auntie Fatty saw the backyard covered in ink and Zhang Xiaohu’s face smeared with it, she didn’t know whether to laugh or scold.

Qin Zihang wasn’t at the Zhangs’ house—he was at home watching TV. His eyes kept darting outside. Was Xiao Hu still not done?

"Is this your family’s ink?" Auntie Fatty asked, holding the nearly empty bottle as she came to Song Fenglan’s house. "It’s almost all gone. I’ll buy you a new bottle another day."

"Don’t worry about it," Song Fenglan said quickly. "It’s ink—the kids didn’t mistake it for something to drink, did they?"

"No, no. He tried to dot the chicks but just made a huge mess—ink everywhere, even on himself," Auntie Fatty said, both exasperated and amused.

"Zi Hang, did you give Xiao Hu the ink?" Song Fenglan turned to Qin Zihang.

"I didn’t! Xiao Hu did!" Qin Zihang blurted, quickly running over and hugging Song Fenglan’s leg. "Mom, Xiao Hu is really nice—he helped me dig for worms. Didn’t you say we should return favors and help each other?"

"You’ve got an answer for everything," Song Fenglan said, fighting a smile. "Just don’t go putting weird stuff in your mouth."

"We won’t! It’s gross!" Qin Zihang insisted.

"You tried it?" Song Fenglan asked.

"I didn’t! Xiao Hu did!" Qin Zihang repeated.

"..." Song Fenglan looked at Auntie Fatty. "The ink..."

"One little lick won’t hurt, will it?" Auntie Fatty asked, frowning. "He seems lively enough."

"A tiny taste won’t kill him," Song Fenglan explained. "It’s traditionally made ink. But who in their right mind drinks ink? Still, watch him close tonight, just in case. If he acts weird, come get us right away."

Song Fenglan downplayed it but was still worried. Her boy had the sense not to taste it—unlike Zhang Xiaohu. She briefly explained, but deep down, she remained concerned about Zhang Xiaohu’s well-being.

"It's fine," said Auntie Fatty. "That ink tastes terrible, yet he still took a lick. Does he think swallowing ink will make him smarter? Are you sure I don’t need to buy you a new bottle?"

"No need," replied Song Fenglan. "I picked this ink on purpose, worried the kids might accidentally swallow it. That’s why I chose this kind."

Still, Song Fenglan hadn’t expected Zhang Xiaohu to take a lick. She turned her gaze to Qin Zihang.

He must’ve waited until Mrs. Su went home and Qin Yizhou was in the kitchen to give the ink to Xiao Hu.

"Mom, I didn’t drink it," Qin Zihang said guiltily. "I didn’t tell Xiao Hu to try it. I knew it wasn’t edible."

"Don’t blame Zi Hang. Xiao Hu just likes to try things. Kids’ll be kids—always curious," Auntie Fatty said. "Don’t scold him. It’s just kids playing around."

"I’m not blaming him," Song Fenglan said, watching as Qin Zihang lowered his head and stared at the ground.

"You’re freaking him out," Auntie Fatty said. "I didn’t come here to accuse anyone. I just thought I should replace the ink. But since you say it’s unnecessary, I won’t. I need to go bathe Xiao Hu and wash his clothes. Hope the stains wash out—it’s all black now. Boys—always into something."

After Auntie Fatty left, Song Fenglan looked down at Qin Zihang, who was still clinging to her leg.

"No more messing with ink, got it?" Song Fenglan said.

"Wasn’t me! Xiao Hu did it!" Qin Zihang explained, insisting he had nothing to do with it.

"Whether it’s you or Xiao Hu, no more messing with ink," Song Fenglan said. "This ink was fine, but other inks could be poisonous, got it?"

"I didn’t drink it. Xiao Hu was the one who licked it," Qin Zihang muttered, a little put out.

Song Fenglan decided she needed to store the fountain pen ink properly. It wasn’t the same as calligraphy ink. The bottle Auntie Fatty had brought over was calligraphy ink, which Song Fenglan used for practicing calligraphy or painting in her free time.

She stored most of her stuff in the study, which she didn’t allow others to enter. Qin Zihang didn’t dare go in either. She didn’t lock the study door, but she wouldn’t leave important items lying around.

"Won’t happen again," Qin Zihang said, shaking his little head. "Mom, won’t happen again."

"Alright," Song Fenglan said. "Go see your dad."

She wanted Qin Yizhou to keep a closer eye on Qin Zihang. The boy had been so well-behaved before, but now she felt he was turning into a real handful.

The next day, at the research institute, Song Fenglan ran into Professor Su while having lunch in the cafeteria.

"Uncle," she greeted.

"I heard you want to go to university?" Professor Su asked.

"Yes, I do," Song Fenglan said. "Now that things are settling down, I’m wondering if the college entrance exams will be reinstated. If they are, I’ll take them. If it’s by work referral, I’ll let others go instead. But most people in our unit have already attended university."

"A few haven’t, but they work in areas where a degree isn’t necessary," Professor Su said. "If you want to go, it’s not impossible. We could put in a word for you."

With her skills, she didn’t even need to attend university—she could receive a diploma directly or even teach students herself.

"No recommendations," Song Fenglan said. "I’d rather rely on my own abilities. If the exams are reinstated, taking them directly would be best. I don’t want folks thinking I got in through connections."

"What connections?" Professor Su said. "If your uncle knew your capabilities, he’d be over the moon—bragging about you. Though… given his personality, he’d still rib you a bit, saying you’ve got room to grow. No, wait—you’re a girl. He’d be gentler with you."

Professor Su thought about how Song Fenglan was Song Xingyun’s niece. Surely he’d treat her better—girls are different from boys, you know. He wouldn’t want to scare her.

"Far as I can recall, I’ve never met my uncle—just seen pictures of him," Song Fenglan said. "Uncle, I’d rather rely on my own abilities. At work, with all the secrecy, many don’t even know what I’m capable of. If I get into university on my own, folks’ll have to admit I’ve got the chops."

"You…" (hesitating)

"Zihang’s getting older, and as his mom, I need to set a visible example for him," Song Fenglan said. "An example everyone can see."

They couldn’t talk to Qin Zihang about the institute’s internal affairs. He knew very little, and outsiders knew even less. People might even claim Song Fenglan got by on her uncle’s influence, so she hoped for an opportunity to prove her capabilities publicly.

"You’re a great mom," Professor Su said warmly.

"I’m new at being a mom, and I’m learning as I go," Song Fenglan said. "I’m trying my best to do more and do it right, so my kid won’t think his mom is incompetent."

"You’re doing amazing," Professor Su thought.

Overseas, they were already developing fourth-gen fighters, with some already taking flight.

That’s how it was in her past life, and nothing had changed now.

Across parallel worlds, many major events and trends remained consistent.

In her past life, Song Fenglan had primarily worked on fifth-gen jets, which included advanced AI programs. But now, with AI not as advanced, their focus was on developing cutting-edge fourth-gen jets—at least to avoid falling behind other countries.

Their homegrown jets, tweaked from foreign models, still lagged far behind.

Song Fenglan was a researcher, not a pilot. Lately, she’d been observing pilot drills and even lecturing them. These new jets weren’t like the old ones, so pilots needed deeper understanding.

The new jets were gearing up for their maiden flight soon.

Song Fenglan had to focus on the jets. As for preparing for the gaokao, she felt solid in math, physics, chem, and English, requiring little preparation. Chinese was doable too, but bio was her weak point.

Bio was all about patterns—just memorize and drill.

If she aced the others, bombing bio wouldn’t hurt much. But if politics or history were included, it’d be much harder.

Song Fenglan naturally chose the sciences—she wouldn’t compete in the humanities.

"I’ll find time to review bio a bit, and that should be enough," Song Fenglan said. "I’m not gunning for valedictorian."

She didn’t set her goals too high—she was shooting for Nancheng University. Getting in was enough; no need to prove extraordinary ability. Valedictorian was too much pressure, and she didn’t want to exhaust herself.

"The gaokao might actually come back," Professor Su said. "If you want to wait for it, then wait."

He thought Song Fenglan’s determination to take the exam and set an example for Qin Zihang was admirable. Making it on her own would shut the critics up, improving her reputation and benefiting her son.

In the capital, Tian Keshu had gone on a bunch of setups without finding a suitable match. She kept measuring them against Eldest Brother Qin, finding them lacking.

First marriages were in a league of their own.

Tian Keshu, already a mother with a poor family background, struggled to find a good match.

"What exactly do you want?" her mother snapped. "You’re staying home every day, unemployed, with our rations limited."

Her mom even pushed her to join the sent-down youth program—at least she wouldn’t be idle at home.

"Mom, marriage is a lifelong commitment. How can it be rushed?" Tian Keshu argued.

"If you don’t find someone in a month, you’ll have to move out," her mother pointed to the door.

"Fine. One month," Tian Keshu gave in.

When Tian Keshu went near the Qin household, she saw Eldest Brother Qin walking with his new wife.

You Yun's attitude toward her stepchildren wasn’t terrible. She didn’t target them, nor did she make her own daughter put up with too much. But after all, her daughter wasn’t part of the Qin family. Since her daughter had come to live with them, she still had to endure certain things—the Qin family couldn’t possibly treat someone else’s child that well.

Eldest Brother Qin’s stepchildren wanted to break free from their birth mother’s influence, and they went so far as to call You Yun "Mom."

"Mom," Tian Keshu’s eldest daughter stood at the door, calling out to You Yun.

At first, Tian Keshu thought her daughter had noticed her arrival and was about to step forward. But then, she saw her eldest daughter happily linking arms with You Yun, which felt like a knife twisting in Tian Keshu’s heart.

Tian Keshu stood there, slumping against the wall, heartbroken, too afraid to go any closer.

Once, when Song Fenglan was giving birth, Tian Keshu had even wished for her not to survive childbirth, thinking that if Song Fenglan were gone, leaving only the child behind, that would be acceptable. Tian Keshu had imagined Qin Yizhou remarrying, believing Song Fenglan’s affairs wouldn’t affect the Qin family.

Now, Tian Keshu felt like the wind was knocked out of her. These were her own children. She looked again and heard her own son call You Yun "Mom."

"Mom, hurry inside, I’m hungry," Tian Keshu’s son said.

Tian Keshu clutched her chest with her right hand, unable to bear looking any longer. Those were her own flesh and blood, yet now they were calling another woman "Mom." What about her, their real mother? She was their birth mother!

The tables had turned. Tian Keshu now felt her life spiraling further into despair. Just when she thought she had hit rock bottom, she found herself falling even further.

During dinner, You Yun sat at the table, putting food on Eldest Brother Qin’s plate and her own daughter’s as well.

"Dad, Mom, I have an idea," You Yun said. "Back then... the one before me took the chicken and the money when Sister-in-law was recovering from childbirth. Shouldn’t we pay that money back now?"

"Pay the money back?" Qin’s mother looked at You Yun, clearly surprised by her suggestion.

"Yes, pay the money back," You Yun said. "Even though Sister-in-law’s family is wealthy and her dowry was generous, and she might not care about this money, whether we give it or not is our family’s responsibility. We should still pay it back—it’s a matter of principle."

"..." Qin’s mother hadn’t considered paying it back. Or rather, she had thought of giving Qin Yizhou and his wife a house as compensation.

"The house is separate from this," You Yun said. "It doesn’t make sense that just because they got a house, they shouldn’t receive anything else. What’s due should still be given, so no one loses face."

"This..." Qin’s mother looked at Qin’s father.

"Then let’s give it," Qin’s father said. "I still have some money left."

"My husband and I will mail it together later," You Yun said. She wasn’t about to pocket the money.

Before marrying into the family, You Yun had already understood the Qin family’s situation. Qin’s father was originally from the countryside, with traditional views. Qin’s mother liked to play the mother-in-law card, and though her health wasn’t great, it wasn’t terrible either. You Yun could speak up now and somewhat influence the Qin family mainly because Tian Keshu had crossed the line. The Qin family was open to You Yun’s input as long as she handled things properly.

Over a week later, Song Fenglan received the money sent by the Qin family. She hadn’t expected this sum to ever reach her hands.

Song Fenglan hadn’t planned on asking for repayment. This money wasn’t originally hers—the Qin family had promised it to her, but not in her presence. Since the Qin family hadn’t mentioned it again, Song Fenglan naturally didn’t bring it up either.

She already knew what the Qin family was like.

"It’s the new sister-in-law who insisted on making it up," Song Fenglan said. "She called to explain."

You Yun had even apologized over the phone, saying her mother-in-law hadn’t been on top of things back then, and that Eldest Brother Qin had dropped the ball. She also said the original promise still held, and the money should be compensated.

"She’s clearly sharp," Song Fenglan remarked.

The couple was in their room when Song Fenglan said this—she didn’t speak of such things in front of their son.

"Your parents actually listen to her," Song Fenglan said. Though she had never met You Yun, she could tell from her actions that You Yun wanted to keep Song Fenglan happy and avoid offending her.

"It’s not a huge sum," Qin Yizhou said. "It’s not like Mom and Dad can’t spare it."

"When we went back for the New Year, they didn’t give it," Song Fenglan said. They could have given it but didn’t—that was an attitude problem.

Now, You Yun made the Qin family keep up appearances, which shows she knows how to handle things delicately.

"Don’t mind them. Since they gave it, just take it," Qin Yizhou said. "This was always meant for you."

Apart from the portion Tian Keshu embezzled, Qin’s parents also took out some extra money as a bridal gift for Song Fenglan. You Yun and her husband mailed all that money to Song Fenglan, and You Yun even had Qin’s mother call to specify the amount—this was to prevent anyone from thinking she pocketed the money.

You Yun had no intention of keeping the money. Including the bridal gift, the total was slightly higher, but for a family like the Songs, it wasn’t much. They were sending a message, letting others know they truly intended to correct their past mistakes.

Aunt Qin had also told You Yun that it was better to make up for the money—not to trade lasting harmony for temporary gains. In front of You Yun, Aunt Qin naturally criticized Tian Keshu and warned You Yun not to follow in her footsteps.

You Yun didn’t believe Tian Keshu became that way because of Song Fenglan. She thought Tian Keshu turned out like that because the Tian family failed to raise her properly—the Tians were rotten through and through. Plus, with a spy emerging from the Tian family, it only proved they were no good. What did that have to do with Song Fenglan? It wasn’t like Song Fenglan made the Tians become spies.

Song Fenglan hoped You Yun wouldn’t end up like Tian Keshu. It was fine to maintain cordial relations, but neither side should scheme against the other.

Before, Song Fenglan had wondered if the agreement they’d made earlier would still hold now that Eldest Brother Qin had remarried. If You Yun insisted on invalidating it, Qin Yizhou and Song Fenglan wouldn’t accept it—it would just lead to a drawn-out fight. The fact that You Yun was willing to honor the agreement was the ideal resolution.

"Don’t worry about things in the capital," Qin Yizhou said, holding Song Fenglan. "They can figure it out themselves."

"I’m not," Song Fenglan replied. "My parents are back in the capital, and all the relatives are fine now—everyone’s doing well."

Song Fenglan no longer needed to worry about them. Now, she just had to focus on her own affairs. Leaning against Qin Yizhou’s shoulder, she said, "Zi Hang—watch him more carefully. He’s getting older and more restless."

"I will, I will," Qin Yizhou said, squeezing Song Fenglan’s hand tightly before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

After Qin’s parents gave out that sum of money—on top of having already bought Qin Yizhou a house—their savings took a big hit. You Yun took charge and rented out the house Eldest Brother Qin had lived in for a while, at least earning some rent to help make ends meet.

Still, after all those expenses, Qin’s mother had much less money left. Qin’s father never concerned himself with such matters, so it was Qin’s mother who was feeling the strain. She hadn’t wanted to give that money—she believed Song Fenglan would never be filial to her in this lifetime, and since Qin Zihang also sided with Song Fenglan, Qin’s mother would’ve preferred to keep the money. But with Qin’s father agreeing, she had no choice but to hand it over.

"It’s just money. You’ll earn more—quit looking so glum," Aunt Qin said when she visited, displeased by Qin’s mother’s gloomy expression. "That money was always meant to be given."

"Last year, we bought a house, and now we’re giving this..."

"If you’d given it earlier and settled things properly, you wouldn’t feel so pained now, having to part with so much at once," Aunt Qin said. "Treating all your kids equally is hard. And you didn’t even try to balance it."

"Fairness aside, it’s over now," Qin’s mother said. "The eldest... he hasn’t been promoted, and it’ll be hard for him to get one in the future."

"That’s because you had no judgment, mistaking trash for gold," Aunt Qin retorted. "You two stay at home without jobs—couldn’t you have gone to see your younger daughter-in-law yourselves? Did it have to be Tian Keshu? You must have known about her schemes but turned a blind eye because she was slipping things to your grandchildren. Everyone knows. Don’t think Yizhou’s wife is a fool—she sees right through it."

That same day, Tian Keshu’s younger sister blurted out her feelings to a man she’d been eyeing for a long time, finally mustering the courage to say, "I like you. I want to marry you."

"Do you even know who I am?" Second Brother Song was stunned that Tian Keshu’s sister would confess to him. "I’m Song Fenglan’s second older brother!"