Chapter 55: Nowhere to Go, A Bouquet of Vegetables

Chapter 55: A Stellar Achievement

"Really? Did my mom really come in first?" Qin Zihang widened his eyes.

"In our area, yes. Can’t speak for other regions," Fan Yani smiled. She had just finished checking the results and noticed someone talking to Qin Zihang, so she walked over. "Her score’s impressive."

Fan Yani had always expected Song Fenglan to do well, but not *this* outstanding.

Song Fenglan had taken the science track, which included Chinese and politics alongside other subjects. Physics and chemistry were tested together, along with math and a foreign language. The exact subjects and scoring varied slightly by province. For politics, Song Fenglan had just memorized the basics—it wasn’t about expressing political opinions but rather following patterns, like memorizing the opening lines of textbook passages.

Thing is, Song Fenglan hadn’t known exactly what to expect on the exams. She had read many historical novels, but they mostly just mentioned the restoration of the college entrance exams and the protagonist getting into university. They rarely spelled out the subjects, question types, or even the total possible score.

After taking the exams, Song Fenglan felt she hadn’t done poorly, but she never dreamed she’d top the list in her region. To be precise, she was first in Nancheng and third in the entire province. Chinese and politics held her back—if she had done better in those, she might have been the provincial top scorer.

But there was nothing she could do. Song Fenglan had other responsibilities. She scored full marks in math, physics, and chemistry, and her foreign language score was decent. It was just Chinese and politics where she lagged behind the two students ranked above her.

With these results, Song Fenglan could easily attend a top university in the capital. However, she was tied to her job at the Nancheng Research Institute, so the capital wasn’t an option.

"Wow, your sister-in-law’s something else," Fan Yani marveled.

"Did you hear that?" Mrs. Su said to Qin Zihang. "Your mom’s first in our area. She’s amazing—you don’t have to worry about her not getting into college."

"Yeah?" Qin Zihang could hardly believe it.

"Absolutely," Fan Yani said. "Your mom’s name is right there. Think someone else has her name? Even if they did, no one’s beating her."

"Yeah." Qin Zihang couldn’t help but grin. His mom really was that incredible.

Among the crowd checking scores, some were crushed; others grinned.

That was the nature of the college entrance exams—a cutthroat race where few made it. If you didn’t make it, you had to find another path. It wasn’t the end of the road.

Qin Zihang stretched to see, still eager to check for himself.

"It’s too crowded now. Come back later when there are fewer people," Mrs. Su said. "Since we’ve got confirmation, that’s enough."

"As long as it’s not fake," Qin Zihang muttered. "Don’t mess with me."

He knew adults liked to fool kids sometimes, and he wasn’t about to fall for it.

"We wouldn’t trick you over something this important," Fan Yani said with a laugh.

Meanwhile, Li Hui was checking her own score. She had expected to rank higher, but her name wasn’t at the front, nor in the middle. By the time she found it near the end, she felt as if she were being skinned alive. Her name was just a few places below Fan Yani’s—both had scored just over a hundred points, with only a two-point difference.

She scowled. The fact that her name appeared after Fan Yani’s was like a public declaration that her education level was inferior.

Clenching her fists, Li Hui turned to leave, but a busybody grabbed her.

"Li Hui, Li Hui—is this you? Is this your sister-in-law’s name?"

"What a coincidence, your rankings are so close!"

"Wow, your sister-in-law scored higher than you!"

"She’s just a country girl, right? Didn’t you say she was uneducated?"

...

Those people didn’t care whether Fan Yani or Li Hui had scored well enough to get into college. All they saw was that Li Hui had done worse—even if only by two points, it still counts as losing.

Li Hui didn’t want to talk to these people. She’d just slipped up momentarily and gotten slightly lower scores, that’s all. She couldn’t bring herself to admit that she had performed worse than Fan Yani, yet the published results clearly showed otherwise.

It was true that Fan Yani had attended a technical secondary school in her previous life, but Li Hui herself only had a junior high school education. Li Hui spent her days dreaming about dancing—how could she have buckled down to study? She had never imagined she would end up worse off than Fan Yani. Now, without her job in the cultural troupe and unable to bear children, her college entrance exam scores were even lower than Fan Yani's.

Li Hui felt her life was falling apart. Would Guo Peng think he had married a useless woman?

She glanced at Guo Peng beside her. Earlier, he hadn’t accompanied her daily during the exam period. She had even suffered a miscarriage right after the exams. Concerned about her emotional state, Guo Peng had taken the day off to accompany her when the results were released.

"Just two lousy points—it’s not a big gap," Guo Peng said coldly, irritated by all the chatter from others.

Worried about Li Hui’s health, he stepped in front of her, keeping the crowd at bay.

"Let’s go home," Guo Peng said, turning to Li Hui and leading her away from the crowd.

As they walked, Guo Peng kept glancing at Li Hui, who was clamming up.

"It’s just a test," Guo Peng reassured her. "You were in rough shape at the time. It’s not your fault. You—"

"I scored lower than your sister," Li Hui sneered. "She actually did better than me."

"Only by two points. Maybe she just guessed one question right," Guo Peng said. "It’s not a huge difference. Besides, you haven’t studied in years."

"..." Li Hui rubbed her cheeks. She could accept losing to Song Fenglan, but not to Fan Yani. How could she face people now?

"Dancing’s your thing—it’s different from them," Guo Peng said. "Don’t compare your weaknesses to their strengths. In dancing, none of them could match you."

"Stop it," Li Hui muttered, mortified. Dancing... she wasn’t even dancing anymore.

She had once dreamed of continuing in the cultural troupe, but they’d phased her out. At first, they hadn’t outright dismissed her, but after she refused to cooperate and took frequent leave, they had no choice but to let her go.

Now, in this situation, she couldn’t blame anyone else. During her time in the troupe, she hadn’t been particularly dedicated to dancing. Instead, she had been dead set on landing some big shot—marrying up. This mindset had been instilled in her by Shi Guilan and her family. Even after joining the military troupe, she had been more focused on seizing opportunities to marry well rather than building genuine relationships with colleagues.

There was nothing inherently wrong with wanting to marry into a good family, but her mistake had been targeting a married man and neglecting her professional relationships. Others saw her as a bad apple and avoided her.

Her current predicament was entirely of her own making—no one had forced her. One misstep had led to another, compounding her mistakes.

Li Hui hurried to get the hell out of there.

At the research institute, Song Fenglan was still engrossed in her work and hadn’t gone to check her scores. But others had done so for her, and word got around fast about her killer scores. No one was surprised—no shock there. Song Fenglan was already exceptional at the institute; how could she not excel in the exams?

One of the bigwigs even inquired with the education bureau and confirmed that Song Fenglan ranked first in Nancheng and third in the province.

If her name had been in the middle of the list, it might have been harder to find, but at the top, her ranking was immediately clear.

By lunchtime, nearly everyone she passed congratulated her. Song Fenglan took it in stride. In her previous life, she had ranked in the province’s top ten during her own college entrance exams, back when the competition was cutthroat and scores were generally high. Now, with many examinees stuck doing farm labor for years, overall scores were lower. She knew her Chinese and politics scores must’ve tanked, yet she still ranked this high—showing how far behind everyone else was.

"You’ve proven yourself. Hangbao will be thrilled when he hears," Professor Su said, plopping down with his tray. The Director also approached.

"Impressive scores," the Director remarked. "I heard your math, chemistry, and physics were all perfect."

"Those were simpler," Song Fenglan said. "We use them in our daily work. If I couldn’t solve them correctly, what good would I be?"

"True," Professor Su agreed. "If you’d gotten those basic questions wrong, I’d have doubted the exam itself."

"The questions were fine," Song Fenglan said. "They played by standard test rules."

As long as test-takers didn’t overcomplicate things or insist on applying real-world constraints, the problems were straightforward. The key was to avoid overthinking.

In her past life, Song Fenglan had indeed taken the college entrance exam and attended high school. In this life, she had also gone to high school, so she naturally knew what these questions were about. She answered them carefully, never looking down on them, fearing that carelessness might lead to mistakes—which would’ve been terrible. Whatever she did, she had to be meticulous and try to do things better.

"Now that the exams are over, we just wait for the graduation certificate," Professor Su said. "This means... you'll be studying here in the country now."

In the past, a student like Song Fenglan would have been encouraged to study abroad to learn cutting-edge tech from abroad. But now, she couldn't go overseas. If foreigners discovered her abilities, they would never let her return, treating her the same way they had treated her uncle—keeping her abroad forever.

"Staying here is good enough," Song Fenglan said. "As long as I can do something meaningful, that's enough. There's no need to go abroad to study."

"If your uncle were still alive, he would be bursting with pride for you," Professor Su remarked.

"My uncle..." Song Fenglan often wondered what kind of person her uncle had been. People always spoke highly of him. She only knew he had been exceptional in scientific research. Sometimes, she dreamed of him—snapping at her, saying, "Such a small task, and you still can't do it well."

Her uncle's face was blurred in her memory, and she suspected she had jumbled him up with her mentor from her past life. That mentor had been a no-nonsense researcher, though his words could sting but overall being a good person. When students needed recommendation letters, he provided them; when they faced other issues, he helped them.

Online, people often complained about awful advisors who helped seniors steal research from juniors, but Song Fenglan had never encountered such a situation. Her mentor believed that if seniors couldn’t write their own papers, they should simply stay longer to finish rather than exploit their juniors. If this cycle continued, wouldn’t they have to wait for a genius to appear before it stopped?

Why not just flunk the slackers? That would solve many problems.

As for whether flunking seniors would affect the mentor, he didn’t care. Letting incapable students graduate would only harm the field.

Her mentor’s straightforward thinking made Song Fenglan find him a real character.

"I’d also like to know what kind of person my uncle was," Song Fenglan said. "If he were still alive, it would be wonderful—I could learn from him."

"Let’s eat," Professor Su said, his heart aching as he recalled the past.

By evening, after work, Song Fenglan returned home to find Qin Zihang clutching a veggie bouquet. He had originally wanted to pick chrysanthemums, but Mrs. Su stopped him—chrysanthemums are for funerals.

So, Mrs. Su helped him make a bouquet out of vegetables, and Qin Zihang was thrilled.

"Mommy, flowers! Veggies!" Qin Zihang proudly presented the vegetable bouquet to Song Fenglan.

It came out weird—almost as if he was calling her "vegetables." But looking at her son’s innocent smile, Song Fenglan knew he meant no harm. Even adults might not have realized the accidental dig.

"Hangbao wanted to give you flowers. He spotted chrysanthemums by the roadside, but I told him no, so I made him a bouquet out of veggies instead," Mrs. Su explained with a smile.

"It’s beautiful—thanks, Auntie," Song Fenglan said.

"What about me? What about me?" Qin Zihang chimed in.

"Thank you, my sweet Hangbao," Song Fenglan replied, bending down to kiss his cheek.

Qin Zihang beamed. "Mommy, are you going to university now?"

"Waiting for the admission letter, then after the New Year, when term begins," Song Fenglan answered.

"Wow!" Qin Zihang exclaimed. "Mommy and I both go to school, but Daddy doesn’t!"

In his mind, he and his mother were the closest—after all, they were the ones going to school together. His father was different, which only made Mommy even better.

That evening, Mrs. Su stayed for dinner since Professor Su was working late again. Being alone, she preferred eating with Song Fenglan’s family. Professor Su, feeling his age, poured himself into work, even teaching extra classes to help others improve.

Seeing Professor Su’s dedication, Song Fenglan thought it was people like him who made the country thrive.

After dinner, Mrs. Su lingered a while longer before heading home. She didn’t ask much about Song Fenglan’s academic plans—her focus was simply helping take care of Qin Zihang.

Once Mrs. Su left, Qin Yizhou stared at Song Fenglan for a long moment.

"What’s wrong?" Song Fenglan asked.

"It's nothing," Qin Yizhou said. "I went to university through a military recommendation. But you, you got in through the actual exam, with such high scores—you're much better than me."

"Different strokes for different folks," Song Fenglan replied. "We took different roads, but they lead to the same place."

They both wanted to serve the country and contribute to it, so in a way, they were the same.

Song Fenglan was pretty happy with her college entrance exam results. Asking her to score even higher would have been impossible.

Next door, Zhang Xiaohu was begging for boiled eggs, insisting his mother cook two more.

"Mom, Auntie didn’t get zero on the exam, so she can eat eggs," Zhang Xiaohu said. "Make two extra—I’ll take one to Zi Hang!"

Other families would’ve scolded him, saying eggs were too precious to just give away.

But Auntie Fatty just kept quiet. She took three eggs and boiled them. Song Fenglan’s family often fed Zhang Xiaohu, so how could she begrudge him an egg? Auntie Fatty was in awe—Song Fenglan’s scores were sky-high.

Many people couldn’t compare to Song Fenglan. Before, some had boasted they’d outscore her, but look how that turned out.

Pfft. All talk, no action—they couldn’t hold a candle to Song Fenglan.

"They’re cooking—won’t be long now," Auntie Fatty said.

"Mom, in the future, we should eat more eggs!" Zhang Xiaohu said. "Gotta grow big and strong! Auntie and Zi Hang eat lots of eggs."

"Yeah, yeah, I’m boiling eggs for you now," Auntie Fatty said. "Quit saying I starve you—you get plenty!"

"I mean later on too—we need more!" Zhang Xiaohu insisted.

"Yeah, yeah, we’ve got more chicks growing up now," Auntie Fatty said. Since the rules were easing up, as long as nobody blabbed, folks would look the other way. Most families quietly raised chickens without spreading the word. If nobody talked, those who knew would pretend not to—if others found out, it might cause trouble.

"Whoa!" Zhang Xiaohu’s eyes lit up. "I want to eat eggs—and chicken too!"

"Yeah, yeah, you’ll get some," Auntie Fatty said. "But you can’t go around talking about it. If you do, there won’t be any left to eat."

"I promise!" Zhang Xiaohu mimed zipping his lips.

Once the eggs were ready, Auntie Fatty gave Zhang Xiaohu two—one for Zi Hang. She also gave one to Zhang Wen, not forgetting her eldest son.

Zhang Xiaohu scampered off with the eggs to Zi Hang, nearly tripping but managing to stay upright. He fell often, but he’d just pick himself up without much fuss.

"Zi Hang, here’s an egg for you!" Zhang Xiaohu said. "Auntie aced her test, so Mom says more eggs for us!"

Zhang Xiaohu figured his mom meant not to tell outsiders, but Zi Hang wasn’t an outsider—he could talk to him about it.

Zi Hang took the egg, and the two boys clinked their eggs like toast glasses.

Song Fenglan caught Qin Yizhou’s eye, who was peeling and slicing apples for the children. Once they finished the eggs, there was warm milk waiting.

"Hey, let’s make a toast!" Zi Hang said, having seen adults toast before. He raised his milk cup toward Zhang Xiaohu.

"Cheers!" Zhang Xiaohu echoed.

"Chug it!" Zi Hang dared.

"Chug it!" Zhang Xiaohu agreed.

They guzzled their milk, racing to finish first.

"Take it slow, don’t choke," Song Fenglan said worriedly, relieved when the children didn’t choke.

"Mom, I finished drinking," Qin Zihang showed his empty cup to his mother.

"I finished too," Zhang Xiaohu also handed his cup to Song Fenglan.

"Good job finishing," Song Fenglan said. "Sit tight, there’s still some apple left."

"My belly is so full," Qin Zihang said, "I could play drums on it."

"Me too, me too," Zhang Xiaohu patted his stomach, "I’m stuffed."

"Then sit and watch TV," Song Fenglan suggested.

Song Fenglan wasn’t big on these TV shows, perhaps because she had seen too many in her past life, so they didn’t feel special anymore. But with nothing else to do, sitting and watching TV wasn’t bad.

Always burying herself in books or work would just stress her out.

Song Fenglan took a slice of apple—it was a bit sour, but she noticed Qin Zihang and Zhang Xiaohu were happily eating theirs. Kids usually go for tangy fruits, finding them delicious without any complaints.

Around 8 or 9 p.m., Auntie Fatty showed up to get Zhang Xiaohu. Sometimes he would go home on his own, but most of the time, Auntie Fatty would come get him.

When children played together, they lost track of time, always wanting to stay longer.

Auntie Fatty thought it was good for Zhang Xiaohu to be next door—he was a handful at home but became very well-behaved at Song Fenglan’s place. Sometimes she wondered if the Zhang Xiaohu at Song Fenglan’s was even the same child—it was like night and day.

"Xiao Hu, let’s head home," Auntie Fatty said to Zhang Xiaohu before turning to Song Fenglan with a smile. "Feng Lan, I haven’t congratulated you yet—you aced it."

"It’s nothing special," Song Fenglan replied, "I got into my top choice."

"That’s great," Auntie Fatty said, leading Zhang Xiaohu home.

Song Fenglan’s situation was relatively smooth. For college admissions, some majors required strict political background checks, but given her abilities, no one could hold her back. Others freshly rehabilitated faced difficulties—some were even rejected despite decent scores.

In some cases, two siblings applying together would see only the brother admitted while the sister was turned away. Families who appealed were either given the cold shoulder or told the situation was too complicated—they’d only take one—usually the boy.

This was the first college entrance exam after its reinstatement, and the rules were still half-baked. Officials didn’t want to stick their necks out, fearing repercussions, which led to many applicants being blocked one way or another.

Qin’s second sister wasn’t blocked. Coming from the capital, with a father who had served in the military, she cleared the background check. She got into a junior college in the capital—knowing her scores weren’t outstanding, she kept her expectations realistic and was content with a teaching college.

Coincidentally, the admission letter arrived just before the New Year, so Qin’s second sister took her husband and children to the Qin family home in the capital. She had three kids—two daughters (eight and six) and a three-year-old son. No key, so she buzzed in.

You Yun happened to be home, cleaning and doing chores. She was pregnant, her belly already showing, but she didn’t lord it over anyone—she knew better than to let pregnancy make her arrogant.

"You’re Eldest Brother Qin’s wife, right?" You Yun didn’t recognize Qin’s second sister.

"Yes, you must be Eldest Brother’s new wife. I’m his second sister," she said.

You Yun looked at her—she did look like a Qin. She quickly invited them in. "It’s cold outside, come in, come in."

Since marrying into the family, You Yun hadn’t heard much about Qin’s second sister, but that didn’t mean she didn’t exist. She knew the parents favored Eldest Brother Qin—even their younger son received less attention. The parents were old-school, borderline feudal.

"I got into junior college and will be studying in the capital, so we won’t be going back," Qin’s second sister announced as soon as she entered the living room. "Is my room still there?"

Qin’s mother stared at her daughter, stunned. It had been years since they last saw each other—neither had reached out. Their relationship had broken down, and Qin’s mother had thought she’d never see her again.

The room… Qin’s mother glanced at You Yun. What was she supposed to say?

"There are still spare rooms at home. Let Second Sister and her family stay first," You Yun said. What was her mother-in-law looking at her for? Her mother-in-law's biological daughter had returned with her whole family, and it was almost New Year—they couldn’t very well turn them away. The house had empty rooms; they could accommodate them.

You Yun wasn’t Tian Keshu. She didn’t despise people like Qin Erjie as much.

Though the family assets had been divided, if one were to speak of true equality between men and women, Qin Erjie should have gotten a share too. From what You Yun knew, Qin Erjie hadn’t received anything, while the eldest son's family had gotten most of it—they even had an extra property outside, which had long been rented out. You Yun wasn't about to suggest Qin Erjie stay there instead.

You Yun had considered the possibility that if Qin Erjie’s family moved in, they might never leave. With a whole family to feed, they’d likely need help finding work for Qin Erjie’s husband too.

"Eldest Sister-in-law speaks wisely," Qin Erjie said. "If we don’t stay here, we have nowhere else to go."

Old Mrs. Qin watched her daughter's attitude, her discomfort growing.

"Second Sister coming to the capital to study is a good thing," You Yun mused. The fact that Qin Erjie had gotten into college showed she had some capability. Eventually, the government would assign her a position, so she wouldn't be left high and dry.

You Yun could tell Qin Erjie’s husband was awkward—he was a dirt-poor farmer. He had considered not coming, but if he didn’t, wouldn’t that mean letting his wife run off with someone else? Back in the countryside, Qin Erjie had made it clear: she was bringing them all back. If they refused, she’d leave him and remarry.

Other families might have made a stink about it, but the Qin family’s house was big, with plenty of spare rooms.

"We’ve kept the rooms ready, thinking guests might come," You Yun said with a smile. "Second Sister, let me show you to your room first. You can settle your things, and we’ll have dinner soon."

Qin Erjie gave You Yun a long look. At least this one knew what was what. If You Yun had refused, Qin Erjie wouldn’t have backed down—she'd have raised hell.

"I’ll take them," Qin Mu said. "You go check the kitchen."

You Yun might be easier to deal with than Tian Keshu, but Qin Mu still worried she might be displeased.

Once they reached the upstairs room, Qin Mu pulled Qin Erjie aside. "Why did you come back now?"

"Of course I had to come now—I got my admission letter," Qin Erjie said. "Thank goodness it came before the holidays. If it had been later, I’d have had to wait till after the holidays to see you. What, Mom, don’t you want your own flesh and blood home for the holidays?"

"No, it’s just—"

"Just afraid I’ll bother Eldest Brother and his wife?" Qin Erjie scoffed. "You've never thought much of me, your own daughter. You didn’t give me a share of the family assets, and now I can’t even stay for a while? Oh, and you’d better find my husband a job—temporary or permanent. If he doesn’t work, we'll be living off your dime."

"Jobs aren’t that easy to find," Qin Mu said.

"Why not?" Qin Erjie retorted. "Where there's a will, there's a way. I’m not demanding a permanent position. But like I said, if you won’t help, fine—we’ll just stay here and eat here. Mom, you wouldn’t let us starve, would you?"

*What did I do to deserve this?* Qin Mu thought bitterly. *Why me, Lord?*

"Mom, should I take this up with you and Dad, or should I go straight to Eldest Brother?" Qin Erjie asked. "Does big brother call the shots now?"

"Don’t bother your brother," Qin Mu frowned. "I’ll ask around for you."

She didn’t dare let her daughter approach her eldest son, afraid he’d be upset. After that Tian Keshu business, his career was ruined—he'd hit a dead end now. The least Qin Mu could do was spare him more trouble. She’d thought remarrying to You Yun would help, but who knew Second Daughter would return?

"Now you're talking," Qin Erjie said. "We’re family, after all."

"Rest first. Come down for dinner later." Qin Mu took a deep breath, eager to leave.

Qin Erjie’s husband watched uncomfortably. "Is this really okay?"

"Of course it is!" Qin Erjie shot back. "If I didn’t push, they’d drag their feet, refuse to help, and find ways to kick us out. We have to make our stance clear early."

"Are we really staying long-term?" he asked.

"We have no house. If we don’t stay here, you want us sleeping in the gutter?" Qin Erjie said. "We adults can’t endure this freezing weather, let alone the kids. If it comes to it, once I get a stable job and housing allocation, we’ll move out."

Living off her parents cost nothing. Renting? Qin Erjie hadn’t even considered it—that would cost money.

In the past, Second Sister Qin had fallen out with these people and become very stubborn. But now that she had been admitted to a college in Beijing, her perspective had changed a bit. Second Sister Qin might not consider things for herself, but she had to think about her children—she still needed to find a way to ensure her family lived well.

For the time being, Second Sister Qin didn’t bring up Qin Yizhou’s affairs. Qin Yizhou owed her nothing, and there was no need to drag him and his family into her own troubles.

Mother Qin went to the living room, feeling upset. She wanted to confide in someone about this matter, but who could she talk to? Qin Yizhou? Their relationship had long since grown distant. Eldest Aunt Qin? Second Sister Qin wasn’t staying at her house, and who knew if the aunt would even speak well of Second Sister Qin.

After all, Second Sister Qin had been admitted to a college in Beijing, which meant she had a relatively stable future ahead. Given Eldest Aunt Qin’s temperament, she would naturally encourage Father and Mother Qin to treat Second Sister Qin better.

A woman from the countryside wasn’t given much thought, but one attending a college in Beijing—that was something to take seriously. Especially in this era, college graduates were scarce, so Eldest Aunt Qin wouldn’t dream of criticizing Second Sister Qin.

She would only say that Second Sister Qin was facing temporary difficulties, and once this period passed, things would get better.

In Nancheng, Qin Yizhou and his wife had no idea Second Sister Qin had returned to Beijing. They had called to congratulate her earlier and knew she had been admitted, but that was all they knew. As for other matters, they didn’t need to worry too much—they just focused on living their own lives.

Song Fenglan had already received her admission letter from Nancheng University. Since it was nearby in the same city, the letter arrived quickly.

She showed her the admission letter to Qin Zihang before carefully putting it away. This was an admission letter, not something ordinary—she couldn’t let him take it outside to show off.

Though Song Fenglan’s status meant that even if the letter were destroyed, she could still manage to attend university, it was better to be cautious.

"My mom got in! My mom got her admission letter!"

"Did your mom get her admission letter?"

"My mom is going to school. Is your mom going to school too?"

"Moms go to school too, so they can be even better moms."

...

Song Fenglan was almost afraid to let her son go outside, worried other mothers might scold him. Not every mom could go to university, and this would make them feel inadequate. Thankfully she wasn’t the one accompanying him outside.

If anyone was embarrassed, it wouldn’t be hers alone—Qin Yizhou would share it too.

Children were so guileless and sincere. They weren’t trying to show off or make others feel bad—they just thought this was joyful news to share with everyone.

Zhang Xiaohu was equally thrilled, as if it were Zi Hang's mom going to university.

One child said to him, "But your mom isn’t going to college."

"Zi Hang's mom is going to college!" Zhang Xiaohu replied. "I’m so happy for her!"

Qin Zihang and Zhang Xiaohu really had no fear of consequences.

With Lunar New Year approaching, many people returned to their hometowns, but most stayed where they were. Soldiers, especially during the holiday season, had many responsibilities, and most weren’t given time off at this time.

Since Fang Xudong started working at the police station, he often had to handle trivial matters. Sometimes, even after his shift ended, he still had to return.

Grandma Fang noticed he had been working overtime a lot lately and couldn’t help but ask, "Didn’t you already finish work?"

"It’s almost Lunar New Year—there’s a lot to do," Fang Xudong said. "I might as well keep an eye on the neighborhood."

"But aren’t there soldiers on patrol?" Grandma Fang asked.

"They have their duties, I have mine," Fang Xudong replied. "I’m responsible for this district now. With all the firecrackers during the holidays, accidents happen—people getting burned, clothes getting holes burned in them. The more I walk around, the quicker I can resolve issues."

"This doesn’t compare to your old job," Grandma Fang remarked.

"Different jobs, different duties," Fang Xudong said. He didn’t think his current life was bad—it was fine by him.

Early in the morning, Auntie Fatty took the soaked beans to grind. Besides making tofu, she also prepared fried treats like oil cakes. She had already made the red bean paste earlier, but Zhang Xiaohu had secretly eaten several spoonfuls, earning him a few swats on his little hand.

"Stealing again!" Auntie Fatty scolded. "If you eat it all, what will we use for filling?"

She had noticed Zhang Xiaohu’s actions earlier but let him have some. Yet he kept eating, forcing her to stop him. She had made extra, but she had underestimated his appetite—he could devour the paste one spoonful after another, making her worry there wouldn’t be enough left.

"Use air then—like the emperor’s new clothes, we’ll make buns with imaginary filling!" Zhang Xiaohu eyed the bowl of bean paste, calculating how much he could grab and how many his mouth could hold at once. "There’s so much here—I only had one, two… not even one in each hand!"