Chapter 58: Nitpicking, One Can’t Be Too Stingy

Chapter 58: Finding Fault—People Shouldn’t Be So Miserly

"They’ll be a little thicker, but not this thick, this thick, this thick." Song Fenglan also gestured along with Qin Zihang. Based on the thickness her son was indicating, she felt like she wouldn’t even be able to carry the books. "Not as thick as our Zihang’s palm is wide."

"Not that thick?" Qin Zihang had assumed they would be very thick.

"Do you think that just because you move up a grade, the books have to be thicker? If they kept getting thicker like that, no one would be able to carry them." Song Fenglan thought for a moment, then went to the study and brought out a relatively thick book—about the height of a ping-pong ball. "See? This is how thick they are. Books this thick are already considered very thick."

Qin Zihang reached out and even tried lifting the book.

"It’s so much heavier than my books," Qin Zihang said in awe.

"You’re still a child, and your strength is small. Plus, you have to carry many books to school. They can’t give you all thick books—imagine how heavy that would be to carry every day," Song Fenglan said.

Back in her previous life, when Song Fenglan was in middle and high school, she used to leave her books in the classroom desk drawers, and no one would steal them. But in this life, she always brought her books home, back and forth, just to prevent any issues.

Even before recovering her past-life memories, Song Fenglan had always loved studying—she never once considered dropping out. Her grades were excellent, but unfortunately, the college entrance exams were abolished, so she couldn’t take them or go to university directly. Now, things were better—she had gotten into university and could finally earn a diploma.

"Your little shoulders would buckle," Song Fenglan said.

"It’s too heavy for my small hands," Qin Zihang tried holding the book with one hand while flipping through it with the other.

"Right? When you grow up and go to university, you’ll be reading books this thick," Song Fenglan said.

"Mom, with books this thick, does that mean there’s a ton of homework?" Qin Zihang immediately thought of assignments.

"..." Song Fenglan hadn’t considered the homework aspect. "In university, teachers don’t give homework all the time. But whether you love learning and want to study more—that’s a different matter."

It would depend on the child. In university, many people go to the library and study on their own. It’s all about self-discipline—professors don’t micromanage students. A lot of students just aim to pass, get their diploma and degree, then find a job afterward.

"Of course I love learning," Qin Zihang declared. "I want to be just like Mom."

"Good, just like Mom," Song Fenglan said. "Mom will be waiting for our Hangbao to go to university someday, okay?"

"Okay!" Qin Zihang nodded vigorously. "Pinky promise!"

Song Fenglan extended her pinky to seal the promise with her son. She hoped he’d make her proud.

Since Li Hui hadn’t come to see Old Mrs. Guo, the older woman didn’t visit again that night, feeling somewhat disappointed. Fan Yani could see Old Mrs. Guo was upset—which was understandable. Normally, it should have been Li Hui, as the daughter-in-law, who came to see her. But Li Hui had gone out shopping during the day and still hadn’t shown up by now.

"Mom, let me know if you need anything. Is the blanket keeping you warm?" Fan Yani walked into the room with Old Mrs. Guo. "I asked my husband to buy an extra woolen blanket. Putting it over the quilt will keep you warmer. I saw the neighbors doing the same—they said it holds heat better than just a quilt, and the blanket doesn’t feel too heavy."

"Warm, very warm. It’ll definitely be warm," Old Mrs. Guo said.

"If you need anything, just say so," Fan Yani offered.

"Everything’s fine here. No need for anything else," Old Mrs. Guo looked at Fan Yani. "You’re so far along—you must be due soon. Don’t trouble yourself with this. From now on, I’ll cook for you."

"Perfect!" Fan Yani had specifically wanted Old Mrs. Guo here to take care of her. Her husband, Yue Hongwei, was often stationed with the military and might not have time to look after her. Having Old Mrs. Guo around would make things much easier. "Mom, just make yourself at home."

"Don’t worry, don’t worry," Old Mrs. Guo nodded.

"Mom, were you thinking about [Li Hui]?" Fan Yani asked. "She sees things differently. You can visit her another day—just stop by. I already told her you’re staying with me. Their extra room’s packed with junk anyway, so there’s no space for you there. You should stay with whoever you’re helping."

"It’s too bad..." Old Mrs. Guo still wished Fan Yani had married Guo Peng instead.

"It’s not a shame," Fan Yani knew what Old Mrs. Guo was thinking. "My man and I are doing great—really, really great. Mom, don’t worry, it’s all good."

But Fan Yani? Not a chance. The original [Fan Yani] had grown up being told she was Guo Peng’s fiancée and had gone along with it. But the original Fan Yani might not have actually liked him that much—Fan Yani certainly didn’t.

"If we’re fated to meet but not to be lovers, then let's just be siblings," Fan Yani said. "Mom, when I first arrived, Eldest Sister-in-law wasn’t thrilled to learn I was Eldest Brother’s child bride. If you say these things in front of her again, she’ll be even more upset."

Fan Yani hadn’t planned to bring it up, but seeing how troubled Guo's mother looked, she decided to speak her mind.

"I won’t say too much so you don’t think I’m badmouthing Eldest Sister-in-law," Fan Yani continued. "There’s a lot behind this. Stay with us for a while, and you’ll find out sooner or later."

Better for someone else to tell Guo’s mother rather than Fan Yani playing the villain. Given Li Hui’s actions, many wouldn’t want such a daughter-in-law, but Guo Peng simply adored her. As the saying goes, different strokes for different folks.

"Then we’ll wait," Guo's mother said, not wanting to pressure Fan Yani. After all, Fan Yani was her adopted daughter, and adoptees tend to hold back.

In the capital’s Qin household, Qin’s second brother-in-law had started a temp job at the recycling station. Eldest Brother Qin had arranged it, and he began immediately.

A few days in, everything was running smoothly.

"Are you sure there’s no problem?" Qin’s second sister asked her husband in their room.

Their youngest son shared the room with them, while their two daughters slept in another. Qin’s second sister worried her husband might be taken advantage of, unsure if Eldest Brother Qin had genuinely secured him a stable temporary position.

"No problems, I’ve got it under control," her husband replied. "The hours are reasonable, and when there’s downtime, I can take short breaks. Overall, it’s decent. With this job, we can stay here."

"Good," Qin’s second sister said. "If anything’s wrong, speak up. If this job isn’t suitable, we’ll find another."

"It’s fine," he assured her. "It’s quite good. I can manage."

"As long as you can," she said. "I just worry… Eldest Sister-in-law acts all nice now, but who knows what’s coming?"

Qin’s second sister hoped her husband could work steadily. With a job and paycheck, they’d only chip in a little for food, nothing more. If they weren’t asked to pay for meals, they wouldn’t have to spend extra.

Qin’s parents must’ve had savings, not to mention their pensions, which they’d use to support the household.

Qin’s second sister figured since she hadn’t inherited any property, it was only fair for her family to eat a little extra now.

"In a few days, school starts for me," she said.

"Will you live on campus?" her husband asked.

"Not with the kids around," she replied.

She couldn’t bear to leave her children, so she’d ride the family bicycle to school. The Qins had one, and she didn’t care if Eldest Brother Qin needed it. If she needed it, he couldn’t exactly say no.

"Your… sister-in-law must be starting school soon too, right?" her husband asked.

"She got into a top school—really elite," Qin’s second sister said. "Her exam scores blew mine out of the water—I wasn’t even close."

She thought the Qins were blind for not treating Song Fenglan better, which led to this mess. Not just Song Fenglan—even her own ties with her wife's family were strained.

Meanwhile, You Yun was discussing with Eldest Brother Qin whether to get Qin’s second sister a gift for school.

"A gift?" Eldest Brother Qin hadn’t considered it. He’d returned to their room planning to sleep early, only for his wife to bring this up.

"Yes," You Yun nodded. "Your relationship with Second Sister isn’t great. You’re trying to patch things up, but it’s not enough. She’s a capital native, and after graduation, she’ll probably land a teaching job here. She’s studying at a teachers’ college."

You Yun thought they might need Qin’s second sister’s help with their children someday. Now that college exams are back, education’s only getting bigger, and teachers would be more respected. Just imagine if their kid aced the exams and got into university—how amazing would that be?

"But that’s three years from now," Eldest Brother Qin said.

"Three years’ll fly by," You Yun replied. "The baby I’m carrying now will still be tiny by then. Later on, we might still need Second Sister’s help. Your bike’s seen better days—why not hand it down to her?"

"No bike? You expect me to walk to work?" Eldest Brother Qin asked.

"Get up earlier and catch the bus," You Yun replied. "I’ve asked around, and Second Sister’s school isn’t too far from here. A bike’s just right for her. Buy a new one if you want."

Bikes were still a big deal back then. If they gave the old one to Second Sister Qin, she likely wouldn’t complain.

You Yun thought they should make a gesture to show Second Sister Qin they had no ill intentions and weren’t trying to gain anything from her now.

"We can’t just think short-term; we have to think about the future," You Yun said. She didn’t care what nonsense Tian Keshu had fed Eldest Brother Qin before—she refused to be that selfish.

You Yun wondered what good it did Eldest Brother Qin to be on bad terms with his siblings.

Tian Keshu had made things far worse. They were full siblings, not half—same mom and dad. You Yun wanted to mend their relationships and prevent further damage.

"Alright, whatever you say," Eldest Brother Qin agreed. "We’ll buy a new bicycle and give the old one to Second Sister."

"Right," You Yun gave a nod. "Tomorrow, you go tell Second Sister—it can’t always be me. She needs to see we’re both on the same page."

Early the next morning, Eldest Brother Qin told Second Sister Qin about the bicycle, mentioning it was You Yun’s idea and that he thought it was a good one.

"You’ll need to come back to take care of the kids, so having a bicycle will make things easier," Eldest Brother Qin said. "If it gets too late, have your husband pick you up."

He certainly didn’t have time to fetch her himself—that was her husband’s responsibility.

Second Sister Qin gave her brother a long look. She had already planned to use that bicycle, but now he was offering it outright.

"If you say so, I’ll take it," Second Sister Qin said.

"It’s yours," Eldest Brother Qin handed over the key.

"..." Second Sister Qin accepted the key, still sensing something fishy about her brother’s sudden generosity.

She didn’t know how long this goodwill would last, but since he was giving it to her now, she’d take it.

Mother Qin kept her mouth shut, not daring to butt in.

"Second Sister, I’m heavily pregnant, and with so many kids at home, your brother might not be able to look after you much. Cut us some slack," You Yun said. "If you need anything, just say so—we’re family."

"Thanks, Sis," Second Sister Qin accepted the kindness.

When Tian Keshu heard Second Sister Qin had returned, she’d been itching for a catfight between them, but it never happened. Tian Keshu hung around the Qin place like a bad smell—she had no job and spent her days cooking for her husband and stepson, occasionally stopping by to snoop on the Qins and see how they were holding up.

Her own kids were idiots, she figured. With You Yun pregnant, weren’t they afraid their father would favor the new child?

Whenever Tian Keshu saw her kids, she wanted to badmouth You Yun in front of them, hoping they’d turn against her. But the Qin family kept the children away from her—Tian Keshu’s family had spy connections, and they didn’t want the kids tainted by her influence.

When Eldest Aunt Qin spotted Tian Keshu lurking around, she frowned and marched straight up to her. Tian Keshu hadn’t expected to be caught, let alone confronted.

"If you want to see the kids, see them. But remember your status," Eldest Aunt Qin said coldly. "Because of you, their father can’t get promoted. Do you want your children to suffer the same fate? My nephew will soon have other kids—kids with no ties to you, so they won’t be affected. But if you fill your kids’ heads with trash, they’ll be ruined."

Eldest Aunt Qin knew Tian Keshu was filling the kids’ heads with trash about You Yun, trying to stir up trouble. She figured Tian Keshu had lost it—her family’s problems had clearly warped her.

"You were once my niece-in-law, and your children are my grandnieces and grandnephews," Eldest Aunt Qin continued. "Think carefully. For their sake, suck it up. You think turning them against their stepmom’s gonna do them any favors? You wanna risk them getting shipped off?"

"I—" Tian Keshu’s eyes widened. She had never considered her children might be taken from her.

"If you truly want those two kids, I’ll talk to my nephew and have him send them to you. After all, he’s about to have others," Eldest Aunt Qin offered. "What do you say?"

"N-no, thanks!" Tian Keshu stammered, shrinking back. Eldest Aunt Qin’s calm made it worse—every word sent chills down her spine.

If the two children were really left to follow her, they'd be ruined—that simply won't do!

Tian Keshu's new husband wouldn’t be willing to raise those two children either. They must stay with the Qin family.

"Then why are you still standing here?" Aunt Qin raised an eyebrow.

"I’m leaving, I’m leaving," Tian Keshu said, beating a hasty retreat.

"Pfft." Aunt Qin only needed a glance to know what Tian Keshu was scheming.

Later, when Aunt Qin ran into Tian Keshu’s two children, she said to them:

"You know your biological mother has a troubled history. Don’t listen to her nonsense."

"As long as your stepmother doesn’t make things difficult for you, don’t make trouble for her either. You’re not that young anymore—don’t let your biological mother lead you by the nose."

"A person must know which way the wind blows. Those who adapt are the wise ones."

…

Aunt Qin had always believed this—don’t foolishly offend those you shouldn’t. And when others face misfortune, don’t rub salt in the wound. Just keep your distance.

You Yun didn’t pay any attention to Tian Keshu’s moves. She wasn’t afraid of Tian Keshu getting closer to those two children—after all, they weren’t her own. If those kids were led astray, they’d resent Tian Keshu in the future. The most You Yun could do was make sure her stepchildren understood her stance: as long as no one started drama, they could get along fine. But if they did stir up trouble, well—she wouldn’t indulge them.

The Qin family’s feelings toward these two children were complicated. On one hand, they didn’t expect them to achieve much in the future. On the other, they still remembered how they had spoiled them rotten as they grew up.

Qin’s second sister stayed at the Qin household without calling Qin Yizhou to report how she was doing. She hadn’t expected Qin Yizhou and his wife to prepare gifts for her, but Song Fenglan and her husband still sent her some money.

Song Fenglan and her husband didn’t know what Qin’s second sister liked. Buying something directly might not suit her taste, so they simply gave her money—that way, she could buy whatever she wanted. Song Fenglan didn’t expect gifts in return. Since they were well-off financially, she knew Qin’s second sister had enough inconveniences living with the Qin family.

Qin Yizhou was grateful to Song Fenglan. Despite how his family had treated her, she still showed kindness to his second sister.

Song Fenglan was naturally more lenient toward women, especially since Qin’s second sister hadn’t crossed her interests. Under these circumstances, Song Fenglan was willing to keep up the charade.

That day, Li Hui and her husband brought groceries to Fan Yani’s place, planning to cook and eat there instead of at their own home.

"Mom, it’s not that we don’t want you to come over. It’s just that Yani is far along in her pregnancy, and it’s inconvenient for her to travel. So we thought we’d cook here," Guo Peng explained, worried his mother might feel slighted.

"Here is fine, here is fine. It’s all the same since you’re here," Guo’s mother said. How could she criticize her daughter-in-law?

One look at Li Hui, and Guo’s mother could tell she was stuck-up—this kind of daughter-in-law was truly a handful. She glanced at her eldest son, who clearly favored Li Hui, so she couldn’t very well complain about her. She couldn’t compare Li Hui to the typical village daughters-in-law either.

Fan Yani took it all in but said nothing.

They had all agreed to cook together, but in the end, it was Guo’s mother who ended up doing all the work, with Yue Hongwei and Guo Peng helping out. Fan Yani couldn’t go to the kitchen because of her pregnancy, and Li Hui, seeing Fan Yani not lifting a hand, decided not to either. When Guo’s mother told Li Hui she didn’t need to help, Li Hui took her at her word.

Fan Yani watched as Li Hui sat idly by without lifting a hand. She didn’t urge her to help—what was the point? If Guo’s mother didn’t speak up, why should she?

As the husband’s younger sister, it was better to say less and avoid stirring conflict between mother-in-law and daughter-in-law.

Fan Yani didn’t like Li Hui, but she didn’t want to make things difficult for Guo’s mother. The way Guo’s mother walked on eggshells around Li Hui made it clear she didn’t want to put her in an awkward position.

When the family sat down to eat, Li Hui started before Guo’s mother had even taken her seat. Guo’s mother had told her to go ahead, so she did.

"Whatever." Fan Yani debated whether Li Hui was obedient or simply had no manners.

Oh well. Li Hui wasn’t her daughter-in-law. If Guo’s mother was okay with it, so be it. Fan Yani wasn’t her place to judge.

After Li Hui and her husband left, Fan Yani didn’t speak ill of Li Hui in front of Mother Guo. At most, she only mentioned it privately to Yue Hongwei.

When speaking in the room, Fan Yani kept her voice very low, afraid that Mother Guo might overhear.

"Mom, as a mother-in-law, is really being dominated by her daughter-in-law," Fan Yani said. "I barely spoke up earlier."

"Mom’s on our side, so we’ll let her help," Yue Hongwei replied. "We won’t say anything."

"Yeah, we won’t say anything," Fan Yani nodded. "It’s not worth mentioning."

How could Fan Yani bring it up? That was her adoptive mother. However she put it, it would only make things difficult for her. Fan Yani thought that since she still needed her adoptive mother’s help, she shouldn’t say such things. She hadn’t considered asking anyone else for help, and at this thought, Fan Yani remembered Shi Guilan.

When Fan Yani came earlier, she had heard about Shi Guilan’s situation. Originally, Shi Guilan had come to take care of Staff Officer Xu’s wife, but later, when his first wife passed away, Shi Guilan married Staff Officer Xu. That Shi Guilan was clever—Fan Yani wasn’t about to become someone else’s pawn.

Soon, it was the Yuanxiao Festival, a time for eating tangyuan, both salty and sweet.

Qin Zihang preferred sesame or peanut tangyuan and didn’t like the salty ones. Song Fenglan also liked sesame and peanut tangyuan, while Qin Yizhou could eat both sweet and salty. Going along with Qin Zihang and Song Fenglan, Qin Yizhou ate the sweet ones—pre-made sesame tangyuan simply boiled, no extra steps.

The family only stuck to three or four each, not a large amount, so there was no need to make more.

Qin Yizhou had cooked the tangyuan and even added some sugar. After dinner, everyone had a few.

"Are they good?" Song Fenglan asked Qin Zihang.

"These are enough," Qin Zihang said, covering his bowl as he looked at his mother. "If Mom doesn’t like them, she can give them to Dad."

"..." Song Fenglan fell silent. Where on earth had her son gotten the idea that she wanted to give him her tangyuan?

Her bowl’s tangyuan were still untouched and still clean. Wait—no, she only had four in her bowl to begin with. She hadn’t scooped extra.

Truthfully, even if they’re delicious, eating four was enough to feel stuffed.

Song Fenglan had always been like this—sticking to three or four.

"The cook should eat them!" Qin Zihang insisted.

He didn’t like eating too many tangyuan and didn’t want his parents to serve him extra.

"Eating too many will give you cavities," Qin Zihang even had a reason ready.

"No one’s making you eat that many," Song Fenglan said.

"On TV, they give tangyuan to others," Qin Zihang argued.

"..." Song Fenglan didn’t always watch TV with Qin Zihang, so she wasn’t sure what he was referring to. But she did recall a scene from the 1987 adaptation of *Dream of the Red Chamber* where Wang Xifeng served tangyuan or some other food to others.

That series wasn’t on yet, so Qin Zihang must have seen it in another show.

"Let Dad eat them," Song Fenglan said.

"Actually, it’s fine if Dad doesn’t eat them," Qin Zihang’s eyes darted slyly. "We can give them to Xiao Hu."

"You’re something else," Song Fenglan’s lips twitched. "Just because you don’t like eating too many, does that mean Xiao Hu does?"

"Maybe they didn’t make any at Xiao Hu’s house?" Qin Zihang suggested.

As it turned out, Qin Zihang was right—Auntie Fatty hadn’t made any. When Zhang Xiaohu came over to play with Qin Zihang, he mentioned it.

"Is your brother home? Tell him to come over—we’ll share the tangyuan," Qin Zihang said, glancing at the bowl. There were still over a dozen tangyuan left, and he had no intention of eating them.

Seeing his son say this, Qin Yizhou thought it wasn’t a bad idea—next time, he should cook fewer tangyuan (sweet glutinous rice balls). Last year around this time, they hadn’t made any because of other matters. This year, Qin Yizhou had worried about making too few, but in the end, both his wife and son only ate a few each. He figured if worse came to worst, he’d just have to finish the leftovers himself. Dogs wouldn’t eat tangyuan anyway, right? Better not feed them to the dog.

With Zhang Xiaohu and Zhang Wen around, the extra tangyuan were taken care of.

“You didn’t make tangyuan at home?” Qin Zihang asked Zhang Xiaohu as he watched him eat.

“Mom said it’s a waste of money. We already have meals, why bother with tangyuan?” Zhang Xiaohu replied. “She says we burn through money like it’s nothing.”

He even mimicked his mother’s mannerisms perfectly, hands on hips like Auntie Fatty. Auntie Fatty didn’t have much choice—she scraped by with odd jobs here and there, so money was tight, and she had to be frugal.

Qin Yizhou held a high-ranking position, and Song Fenglan wasn’t doing badly either. Both had steady paychecks, and with only one child to raise, even without the dowry from the Song family, they could provide well for Qin Zihang.

“It’s fine, you can just eat here with us,” Qin Zihang said. “Dad feeds me like I’m a pig, but even pigs wouldn’t eat this much sugar! Let’s share and all get a little sweetness.”

He glanced at his father—it was his fault for cooking so many tangyuan. They’d get sick of them if they ate too many.

“Is it sweet enough? Need more sugar?” Qin Zihang asked. “We’ve got plenty.”

With that, he scooped a big spoonful of sugar into Zhang Xiaohu’s bowl, then turned to Zhang Wen.

“It’s sweet enough,” Zhang Wen said.

“No need to hold back—plenty of sugar here!” Qin Zihang insisted, adding a spoonful to Zhang Wen’s bowl too. “Sesame tangyuan, peanut tangyuan—they’re supposed to be sweet. The soup’s gotta be sweet—that’s the best part!”

“You not eating?” Zhang Xiaohu asked Qin Zihang.

“I’ve already had mine. You guys go ahead,” Qin Zihang said, worried the brothers might refuse. “What’s in your bowl is yours to eat. No need to hold back, eat up. If it’s not enough, my dad can cook more—we’ve still got some uncooked ones.”

“That’s enough,” Zhang Wen quickly said. He and his brother only needed a few tangyuan—no need to overdo it. “We ate already.”

But the brothers could still eat more. Teenage boys like them were always hungry by bedtime, especially since their meals weren’t particularly rich. If they weren’t the ones feeling hungry, who else would be?

“Go ahead and eat,” Song Fenglan said. “There are also some sweet potatoes—have them together.”

Qin Yizhou brought out the steamed sweet potatoes. Roasted ones are too drying, so this time, they were steamed.

Auntie Fatty didn’t immediately go next door. She’d overheard Zhang Xiaohu calling Zhang Wen over for tangyuan. Kids could indulge, but adults shouldn’t horn in.

On the night of the Lantern Festival, Fan Yani had a stomachache, and Yue Hongwei rushed her to the hospital. Yue Hongwei’s mother went along too but returned home after a while to prepare fish soup for Fan Yani to have after giving birth.

By day, Song Fenglan worked at the lab. It was Fan Yani’s problem, not hers.

Qin Yizhou took Qin Zihang to buy eggs. After enrolling him in school, they stopped by to get some eggs to later deliver to Yue Hongwei’s house.

Of course, the shopkeeper gave Qin Yizhou the best eggs. As they were leaving, the shopkeeper got into an argument with another customer—she’d given her cracked eggs, sneering she only deserved rejects.

“Our family’s been cleared,” the woman buying eggs said. “Our family…”

“Give her the good eggs.” It wasn’t Qin Yizhou who spoke, but Qin Zihang.

He’d overheard the shopkeeper and the woman arguing over eggs and her ‘bad class background.’ Qin Zihang knew his mother had once been criticized for her background too—people had bullied her over it.

“Give her the good eggs,” Qin Yizhou said, stepping beside his son.

At the sight of Qin Yizhou’s uniform, the shopkeeper backed down. She swapped them for good ones.

The woman thanked them both.

At first, Qin Zihang thought the woman was only thanking his dad. He was about to say something when she thanked him too.

"You're welcome," Qin Zihang said.

"You’re the spitting image of your dad," the woman added.

Qin Zihang hadn’t called out "Dad," but the woman could tell. After all, she wouldn’t mistake someone much older for a brother. The woman had had it rough out in the sticks and had only recently cleared her name. She wasn’t hung up on marrying someone rich or chasing after influential people.

After getting the eggs and saying thanks, the woman left.

"Dad, she said I look just like you!" Qin Zihang said with a laugh. "Lots of people say that. Why don’t they ever say I look like Mom?"

"You’re a guy. Looking too much like your mom, you’d be too delicate. Guys oughta be handsome," Qin Yizhou replied.

"Dad, you’re such a dork," Qin Zihang teased.

"If I weren’t handsome enough, would your mom have liked me?" Qin Yizhou said. "Women doll up for those they fancy, and men are the same."

"Fancy? Like... happy?" Qin Zihang asked. "Dad, I don’t get it."

"It means making sure your mom likes me, understand?" Qin Yizhou said. "Come on, let’s head back."

"I signed up. Does Mom need to sign up too?" Qin Zihang hadn’t forgotten. "When are we going to help Mom enroll?"

"Tomorrow. We’ll all go to her school," Qin Yizhou said. "We’ll check out her school."

Qin Yizhou figured his son was so insistent on helping his wife enroll that he might as well take him along, or else the boy would keep bringing it up.

"Is Mom’s school really big?" Qin Zihang asked. "University, elementary school—'big' means really huge, right?"

"Yes, it’s very big," Qin Yizhou said. "When we take you there, you’ll see just how big."

"How much bigger than our elementary school?" Qin Zihang pressed. "Does Mom have lots of classmates too? Do they do their homework properly? Do they have to read thick books? Are they smart, or is Mom smarter? Mom’s gotta be smarter!"

"You know all this, but you keep asking," Qin Yizhou said.

"I want to hear you say it," Qin Zihang replied. "Mom is my mom, but she’s also your wife. Don’t hold back on the praise, just like how Mom praises Hangbao. Praise makes folks happy."

"..." Qin Yizhou looked down at his son. Was Qin Zihang sure he wasn’t just boasting?

Qin Yizhou felt awkward gushing over Song Fenglan so openly outside. If he kept saying how amazing his wife was, people would think he was either narcissistic or lying. Love is blind, but this was pushing it.

If he gushed over her all the time, others would find it insincere and assume he was exaggerating.

"Mom praises you too, doesn’t she?" Qin Zihang said. "Dad, you can’t be too stingy with words. You have to say them out loud so Mom knows what you’re thinking."

"Alright, your mother is very smart. To me, she’s the absolute best," Qin Yizhou said.

"Yes, Mom is the absolute best!" Qin Zihang giggled.

People walking by who heard the father and son weren’t surprised. Qin Zihang always liked to boast about his mother. At first, people thought he was joking—like when he said his mother would get into the best university in the country. Well, Song Fenglan hadn’t gone to the top national university, but she did attend the best one in the province, and her grades had been high enough for the national one.

Now nobody wrote off Qin Zihang’s talk as mere bragging. Who knew? One day, Song Fenglan might just make his claims come true. Everyone could see how much she doted on him, always working to make his words come true so others wouldn’t laugh at him but instead admire him.

Other moms couldn’t compete. Many of them thought Song Fenglan was too impressive and decided it was better not to compare themselves to her.

At the hospital, Old Mrs. Guo brought Fan Yani some fish soup she had prepared.

"I took out most of the bones, but I might have missed a few," Old Mrs. Guo said. "Watch out when you eat, just in case."

"Let me taste." Fan Yani held the bowl and drank the fish soup, which was pretty bland.

Fan Yani had just given birth, and Guo's mother had specially prepared this for her.

"It doesn't taste like much, but this is how postpartum recovery should be," Guo's mother said. "Just put up with it for now."

"Mm." Fan Yani nodded. Since she was a transmigrator, she had lived in an era of information overload and a highly developed internet in her past life. She had seen how others practiced postpartum recovery, with all sorts of customs. She wasn’t very familiar with those traditions and couldn’t quite remember how confinement should be done. Having Guo's mother by her side to take care of her made her feel much more at ease.

"A boy—that’s good." Guo's mother looked at the baby. The baby was healthy, and she couldn’t help but think how wonderful it would be if Li Hui could conceive.

Over the past few days, Guo's mother had heard rumors that Li Hui had difficulty getting pregnant, that she couldn’t have children, and whether Guo's mother knew about it. Guo's mother was too afraid to ask Li Hui outright. Instead, she asked Fan Yani, who said she had only heard rumors and didn’t know if it was true.

Guo's mother was afraid of affecting the relationship between Li Hui and Guo Peng, so she didn’t dare ask Guo Peng either, worried that Li Hui would find out and be upset. She also thought that Li Hui and Guo Peng hadn’t been married for very long—there was still time. Maybe Li Hui would get pregnant in a few years.

Many couples conceive several years after marriage, not necessarily in the first year.

"Sons or daughters, it’s all good." Fan Yani didn’t care much about the baby’s gender.

"Sons are better," Guo's mother said. "They can support you in old age."

"That’s not necessarily true. Boys might grow up spoiled..." Fan Yani almost said that boys might end up listening only to their wives, but then she thought of Guo Peng and Li Hui. Better not upset Guo's mother too much. "Boys will need more betrothal gifts when they marry. Girls are easier—you won’t need as much for dowry."

"Either way is fine. Drink your soup now," Guo's mother urged.

"This soup is really good," Fan Yani said.

"Have more." Guo's mother said. "Giving birth wears a woman out. You need to eat well this month."

In the evening, Song Fenglan returned home and saw Qin Zihang holding a piece of fabric. He had been staring at it for a while, wanting to make his mother a new schoolbag, but he didn’t know how. Qin Zihang held scissors but didn’t dare cut randomly, afraid he’d ruin the fabric.

"Mom, I’ll give you my new schoolbag. I’ll use the old one," Qin Zihang said. "I asked Dad to make you a bag, but he’s clueless!"