Chapter 61: The Ability to Attract Hatred Through Differences

**Chapter 61: The Ability to Invite Envy Through Differences**

A couple of days ago, Zhang Xiaohu watched a TV program about the metaphor of boiling a frog in warm water—how the frog wouldn’t jump out and would eventually be boiled alive. If the goal was to cook the eggs, why couldn’t they eat them?

“There’s no heat under this,” Auntie Fatty explained. “It’s not for cooking eggs.”

This is how folks in the countryside check eggs being incubated by hens—to see whether the chicks inside are still alive and can hatch.

Auntie Fatty handled the eggs with extreme care, afraid she might accidentally drop them. After quickly inspecting them, she dried the eggs off and placed them back under the hen. She couldn’t leave them outside—it was too cold, and the eggs would chill too quickly.

Zhang Xiaohu watched as his mother put the eggs back under the hen, feeling just a little disappointed.

Ever since Qin Zihang had a conflict with other kids at school, his mother had gently explained that it wasn’t necessarily because others were ignorant—some people simply didn’t know certain things. Since then, Qin Zihang had stopped talking so much about his mom going to college. After all, the gaokao—the college entrance exams—were in the past, and soon enough, a new group of students would take their turn.

Qin Zihang could be a handful at times, but he listened to his family, especially Song Fenglan. In his eyes, his mother could never do wrong—she was the absolute best, and you couldn’t go wrong by listening to her.

But just because Qin Zihang stopped bringing up his mom didn’t mean the other kids would.

When they noticed he wasn’t talking about her anymore, they felt oddly put out.

“Zi Hang, how’s your mom doing?”

“Zi Hang, why aren’t you talking about your mom today?”

“Zi Hang, your mom is so pretty, and she loves you so much. You—”

“I’m done talking about my mom,” Qin Zihang cut in when the other kids kept asking. These kids were so weird—he used to talk about his mom, and some of them didn’t even want to hear it. Now that he’d stopped, they were the ones bringing it up.

In reality, he’d only gone two days without mentioning her before the questions started.

“Did you fight with your mom? Did you make her angry?” one child asked.

“No,” Qin Zihang replied. “Mom said we’re all kids—we shouldn’t always talk about our moms. We should focus on studying.”

“Why not? You *can* talk about her!” A few of the kids really enjoyed hearing him talk about his mother, and some even wondered if they could trade moms with Qin Zihang.

That evening, when Song Fenglan went to pick up Qin Zihang, a little boy ran straight up to her.

“Mom!” He shouted directly at her, but of course, Song Fenglan didn’t respond. As the boy rushed toward her, Cao Fang stepped in to stop him.

“Mom, I’ll be good—I can be your son!” the boy pleaded.

The boy was none other than Tian Junhua, who had previously clashed with Qin Zihang. But after learning just how amazing Qin Zihang’s mother really was, he wanted her to be his mom instead.

Zhang Xiaohu had thought about it, but he never actually called Song Fenglan “Mom.” Tian Junhua, however, did so without hesitation, as if he were ready to go home with her on the spot.

Song Fenglan was clearly taken aback. No one had ever called her “Mom” except her own son. She recognized the boy—he must be in the same class as her Zi Hang.

“She’s *my* mom!” Qin Zihang couldn’t believe someone else dared call his mother “Mom.” How dare they try to steal her!

“Auntie is *Zi Hang’s* mom—not yours,” Zhang Xiaohu added quickly, then muttered, “And not mine either.”

“Mom, if I were your son, I’d be an even better one than Zi Hang!” Tian Junhua insisted.

“No, no! She’s *my* mom, not yours!” Qin Zihang protested, clinging tightly to his mom’s leg. She was his—no one else could have her.

“I can be your older brother, and we could share the same mom,” Tian Junhua offered, not seeing anything wrong with his suggestion.

"Tian Junhua!" Tian Junhua's mother came to pick him up and happened to hear these words. Mrs. Tian’s face darkened—listen to what her son was saying.

Just two days ago, her son had been talking about his argument with Qin Zihang, and now he wanted to claim Qin Zihang’s mother as his own.

Mrs. Tian never expected her son to behave like this. She quickly walked over and apologized to Song Fenglan, "I'm sorry, this child doesn’t know better."

"I do understand! I want—" (struggling against her hand)

"You don't!" Mrs. Tian covered her son’s mouth. "You already have a mom. Don’t think about someone else being your mom. Let’s go home. If you don’t, do you want bamboo shoots fried with pork?" (*Chinese idiom for spanking.*)

Sure enough, if you don’t spank a kid for a day, they’ll try to climb onto the roof.

As soon as Mrs. Tian loosened her grip, her son turned to Song Fenglan and said, "Mom, she wants to hit your son. I won’t go with her."

Tian Junhua plopped down on the ground, loudly insisting he wanted to leave with Song Fenglan.

"Mom, let’s go, let’s go!" Qin Zihang urged his mother to hurry, afraid she might actually take Tian Junhua home.

Zhang Xiaohu even helped push Song Fenglan forward, trying to keep her from looking back at Tian Junhua.

Song Fenglan couldn’t help but laugh at the scene. First-grade kids really could be little rascals. So it wasn’t just her own kid who was a handful—others were too. Still, she needed to raise Qin Zihang right. She had to make sure he didn’t turn out bad.

"I’m really sorry. This child is just like this—don’t make a big deal out of it," Mrs. Tian said.

"We’ll head back first," Song Fenglan replied.

"Go ahead," Mrs. Tian said, standing there watching her son make a scene on the ground. She wanted to see how long he’d keep it up. With Song Fenglan gone, who was left to see his act?

Tian Junhua really wanted to follow Song Fenglan, but she didn’t accept him as her son, so he had no choice. After wailing and carrying on for a while, he eventually got up by himself—no need for Mrs. Tian to pull him.

On the way home, Mrs. Tian asked Tian Junhua, "Why did you want Zi Hang’s mom to be your mom?"

"Didn’t you all say Zi Hang’s mom is amazing?" Tian Junhua replied. "If she can be Zi Hang’s mom, why can’t she be mine?"

"..." Mrs. Tian was speechless.

"Mom, you're the one who said you fished me out of a dumpster. Doesn’t that mean I’m not really your son? So why can’t I be Zi Hang’s mom’s son?" Tian Junhua thought his logic was flawless.

"You—" Mrs. Tian gave a light knock to her son’s head. Adults joked about such things, but kids would believe them.

"Stop thinking about Zi Hang’s mom being yours," Mrs. Tian said. She knew her son had fought with Qin Zihang before, but kids were like that—one day they argued, the next they might be fine. As long as nothing major happened, there was no need to make a big deal out of their little fights.

"Why not?" Tian Junhua insisted. "If not today, then maybe tomorrow?"

"Enough," Mrs. Tian said. "If you want, just play with Zi Hang. Don’t try to steal his mom."

"I’m not asking Zi Hang to come to our house—I’ll go to theirs," Tian Junhua argued. "I want to be part of their family, to be Zi Hang’s older brother."

"Let’s go home," Mrs. Tian said, thinking her son was no match for Qin Zihang’s smarts—and it's not like anyone would want such a troublemaker anyway.

Meanwhile, on the way home, Qin Zihang kept insisting to his mother not to be any other child’s mom.

"Mom, you can only be my mom, not theirs," Qin Zihang said.

Zhang Xiaohu had already headed home and wasn’t around.

"What about moms?" Mrs. Su came out bringing food. Since Song Fenglan had returned early today, Mrs. Su hadn’t gone to pick up Qin Zihang and had stayed home to cook instead.

"Tian Junhua, my classmate, wants my mom to be his mom too. He even calls her 'Mom'—so annoying," Qin Zihang said. "He even said before that Mom couldn’t get into a university in the capital. He... he disrespected her!"

Qin Zihang was a little angry. This was *his* mom, not someone else’s.

"He just thinks your mom is great and envies you," Mrs. Su said with a smile.

"Well, I won’t give my mom to him," Qin Zihang declared. "His mom threatened to give him 'bamboo shoots fried with pork'!"

Despite his young age, Qin Zihang knew what "bamboo shoots fried with pork" meant—it was when adults hit children with bamboo sticks. Plenty of kids around here had gotten that punishment. Some kids even burned the bamboo strips during play so adults couldn’t find them for another beating.

Qin Zihang didn’t like playing with fire. His parents had drilled it into him—fire was dangerous. They were too little to handle it, and they might accidentally burn the house down. If that happened, they’d have nowhere to live, and the precious gifts his mom had given him would be destroyed. He didn’t want that at all.

Whenever other kids messed with fire, Qin Zihang kept his distance, afraid of getting burned or having his belongings catch fire.

The other kids razzed him for being afraid of fire, but Qin Zihang didn’t care.

"You know about 'bamboo shoots fried with pork' too?" Song Fenglan asked.

"Yeah, my classmates told me. They even tried to trick me into asking Mom to make it so I’d get beaten too," Qin Zihang said. "But I’m not falling for that."

"Bamboo shoots fried with pork" could be a dish—or a beating. It all came down to how it played out.

"The bamboo shoots are tangy, spicy, and a little sweet," Qin Zihang added.

"Here you go," Mrs. Su said, dishing out the bamboo shoots she'd made.

A little later, Qin Yizhou returned home. These days, he made sure to come straight home after work—he had to take over Cao Fang’s role in protecting Song Fenglan.

"Everything’s ready?" Qin Yizhou asked.

"Today, Fenglan picked up the child, and I stayed home to cook," Mrs. Su said. "Sit down and eat."

Qin Zihang glanced at his father a few times, which got Qin Yizhou wondering.

"What's going on?" Qin Yizhou asked.

"Why does no one want you to be their dad, but they all want my mom to be their mom?" Qin Zihang asked, confused.

"What if they wanted *you* to be their dad?" Song Fenglan teased.

"I’d let them! Do I seem that selfish?" Qin Zihang said generously.

"Won't give up Mom but hands out Dad—real slick," Qin Yizhou remarked.

"As long as Mom's here, I’ll be fine," Qin Zihang said. "It doesn’t matter if Dad’s around or not."

Qin Yizhou’s chest tightened. When Qin Zihang had been in the capital with Song Fenglan before, it really hadn’t made much difference whether he was around or not.

"Let’s eat," Mrs. Su said. No use dwelling on the past—they had to keep going.

After Fan Yani returned home from the hospital, Li Hui didn’t so much as check on her once. Every time Li Hui replayed the hospital scene in her head, she didn’t want to see Fan Yani. She was boiling with resentment toward her. Li Hui kept thinking that if Fan Yani hadn’t come to the family compound, Guo Peng’s child bride secret wouldn’t have been exposed, and she wouldn’t be in this mess.

Neighbors still poked at Li Hui about it whenever they saw her.

"Have you visited your sister yet?" a neighbor asked.

Li Hui knew they meant Fan Yani. "I sent my husband over with eggs. I stopped by earlier, but I haven’t had the chance lately. I’ll visit in a few days."

"With your mother-in-law there, you’re covered for now," the neighbor said. "Haven’t spotted her around, have you?"

"She's at Ya Ni's place—she needs to take care of her," Li Hui said. "We don't need her here, so we didn’t ask her to come over."

The neighbor figured Li Hui and her husband just didn’t want Guo Peng’s mother around. After all, she’d been in town for days, yet they hadn’t even invited her for a meal. They kept saying she was eating at Fan Yani’s, but that wasn’t the same as being in Li Hui’s own home.

But the neighbor knew better than to push. Other people’s family matters were best left alone.

Li Hui hated when the neighbors said things like that. Every time, she suspected they were just trying to provoke her. It was none of their business anyway—whether or not she invited Guo Peng’s mother had nothing to do with them.

When Li Hui told Guo Peng what the neighbors were saying, she was fuming.

"These people won’t stop nagging about the same thing. Is it me who stopped your mom from coming? She’s busy taking care of your sister—she doesn’t have time to come here," Li Hui snapped. "Besides, we don’t even have a spare room. If we made her stay here, we’d have to clear out the storage space, and she’d still be running back to your sister’s all the time. Too much trouble."

"Just let Mom stay at Ya Ni’s. That was the plan from the start. Ignore what people say," Guo Peng replied.

"I don’t care what they think, but they make everything sound ugly," Li Hui retorted. "Like I’m some kind of monster to your mom."

"No, his mom never actually complained about you. Don’t worry. She has a gentle temper," Guo Peng reassured her.

Guo Peng’s mother had indeed never spoken badly of Li Hui, nor had she criticized her directly. Still, Li Hui was sure his mom liked Fan Yani better. Seeing how attentively she cared for Fan Yani, Li Hui couldn’t help thinking that Guo Peng’s mother must secretly wish Fan Yani were married to him instead—then Fan Yani’s child would be Guo Peng’s son.

Even without anyone confronting her directly, Li Hui felt wronged and wanted to lash out at Guo Peng.

"Gentle temper? That’s just on the surface. Who knows what she really says behind my back when she’s with Fan Yani?" Li Hui scoffed.

"She’d never do that," Guo Peng said gently. "Don’t worry. Mom will go back soon enough."

"Fan Yani’s got some nerve, making your mom come take care of her. Who does she think she is, your mom’s real daughter?" Li Hui sneered. "She’s got her own parents. Why doesn’t she get her birth mother to come help?"

"Well… she grew up with us," Guo Peng explained. "Even though her real mom lives in the next village, they barely see each other. She always called our mom ‘Mom.’”

"She calls your mom ‘Mom’ when she needs something, but when there’s something good to gain, she’ll run straight back to her real mother," Li Hui shot back coldly. "You really think Fan Yani’s innocent? If she were, would she have come here without asking you first? She’s sneaky."

Li Hui wouldn’t stop trashing Fan Yani. What was wrong with a woman planning for her future? At most, Fan Yani had just gotten under their skin—nothing worse. Yet Li Hui resented Fan Yani more than she resented Song Fenglan.

After all, Fan Yani was the protagonist—the kind who could really stir up hatred.

"Listen, you need to watch yourself around Fan Yani from now on," Li Hui warned. "She’s got a son now, and we don’t. No telling how she’ll turn this against us. She wants you to regret marrying me. She—"

"That’s not true," Guo Peng cut in, fed up. He still thought well of Fan Yani—she hadn’t said anything bad about Li Hui in front of him.

After all, while he was away, Fan Yani had taken care of his parents and done a lot for the family. Meanwhile, he hadn’t returned, and he hadn’t married her, leaving her single way past the age most village girls wed—even if the law said otherwise.

"You always say it’s not true," Li Hui dug her nails into his arm. "You’re not on my side—you're on theirs."

"No, no, I’m not on their side. I just mean they don’t have any bad intentions. You don’t need to worry about them giving you a hard time. If they ever do, I’ll stand up for you," Guo Peng said, clearly exhausted.

Lately, Li Hui had been like this constantly. She was working herself into a rage, her face twisted with bitterness—not at all like the bright, cheerful woman she used to be. Guo Peng missed the old Li Hui and didn’t want her to stay this way, but what could he do? His wife was hurting.

He decided he had to endure it. She'd lost their baby in a miscarriage, and getting pregnant again might be difficult. Her pain was understandable. In time, he hoped, she’d calm down and return to normal.

As for Fan Yani, she didn’t care what Li Hui thought of her. Her focus was on recovering. Sometimes she gently corrected Guo Peng’s mother if something wasn’t done right—but always carefully.

After all, Guo Peng’s mother was her adoptive mother. Fan Yani had to show respect. And Guo Peng’s mother didn’t mind—city life was different from the countryside, after all.

While caring for Fan Yani, Guo Peng’s mother rarely went out except to buy groceries. She didn’t seek out gossip—it was pointless, and she didn’t want to keep hearing about Li Hui.

Hearing what others said, Guo Peng’s mother wondered why her eldest son had chosen Li Hui. But she guessed he must truly love her. That made her even less willing to criticize Li Hui in front of him. Once, over a small matter, he had even asked her not to speak ill of Li Hui. Though hurt, his mom swallowed her pride and nodded, promising she wouldn’t mistreat Li Hui—that she was satisfied with her.

"Mom, do you miss Dad? Should we call him?" Fan Yani lay on the bed. She glanced at her sleeping son before turning to ask Mother Guo. "We'll pay for the call—you don’t have to."

"No need to call. That’ll be soon enough when we go back," Mother Guo replied, not wanting to waste money on the call.

"Mom, after the baby’s full month, could you stay another ten or twenty days?" Fan Yani said. "He’s so tiny—I’m clueless about caring for him."

"Well..."

"They won’t miss you at home," Fan Yani pressed. "Please help me out."

"We’ll see," Mother Guo said.

"Mom, you’re not worried Big Brother and Sister-in-law might mind?" Fan Yani asked. "You're staying here with me, helping with the baby. You won’t have to go over there to eat or sleep, or put up with their moods."

"I’m not worried," Mother Guo said.

"Since you’re not worried, then it’s settled," Fan Yani said. "I don’t have anyone else to rely on—only you. Please help me a little more."

When Qin Zihang had time off, Song Fenglan brought him over to visit Fan Yani. He wouldn’t stop talking about wanting to see the baby.

"He’s been going on about the baby forever," Song Fenglan said with a smile.

Qin Zihang didn’t dare get too close. He stood nearby, stealing glances at the baby now and then.

"So tiny," he marveled. He reached out as if to poke the baby, then hesitated and pulled his hand back.

"You can touch him a little," Fan Yani laughed. "He won’t pop like a balloon."

"No, no, I can’t. My hands are germy—the baby’s still too small," Qin Zihang quickly shook his head. "Mom says our hands are full of germs. We gotta wash up before eating, and we have to be careful with babies. Even after washing, some icky germs stay."

Hangbao worried he might hurt the baby, so he didn’t dare touch him much.

"I’ll hold him when he’s bigger," he decided.

Fan Yani watched Hangbao’s sweet antics and smiled again. She couldn’t resist asking, "Fenglan, how did you raise Hangbao to be so cute?"

She thought he was the kind of child raised on pure adorableness, while her own baby—she glanced at him—would probably never be that adorable.

"Milk and food," Hangbao counted on his fingers. "Bean cakes, sponge cakes, mille-feuille..."

Just thinking about those treats made Hangbao’s mouth water—they were so delicious.

"So cute," Fan Yani said. "I wish my baby could be like Hangbao."

"Every kid’s cute in their own way," Song Fenglan said. "Folks always think other kids are cuter."

"Mom, do you think other kids are cuter too? Am I not cute?" he protested.

"No, of course not," Song Fenglan said. "I love our Hangbao best. Ask Auntie Yani—doesn’t she love her baby most too?"

"Auntie," Hangbao turned to Fan Yani.

"Right, every mom loves her own baby best. Auntie loves hers too," Fan Yani said. "You can’t just swipe other people’s kids—they can’t stay forever."

"But... other kids really want to come home with you," Hangbao added, giving her a 'you-can’t-fool-me' look. "That’s how it goes."

"Maybe at first," Fan Yani said. "But after a couple days, they’ll be begging to go home. Nobody beats your own mom and dad."

"Yeah, I like my mom best too," Hangbao nodded. "Dad can wait."

"Did you prepare the baby formula?" Song Fenglan asked, noticing the bottle nearby.

"I prepared some," Fan Yani replied. "Sometimes I'm too exhausted at night, so I just let my mom make the formula for her. I don’t have enough breastmilk, so a little formula is fine."

The baby cried constantly—hungry, wet. Babies express everything through crying. Fan Yani was utterly drained, and raising a child felt so hard. That’s why she wanted the baby’s grandmother to stay a little longer—at least until the baby grew a bit bigger.

Looking at the tiny baby, Fan Yani worried something might be wrong. She wished she could watch the baby all the time, but her body was too tired to keep going.

Qin Zihang stared at the baby for a while—the baby’s mouth moved, little hands twitched, cheeks plump and soft…

"Mom, was I like this too when I was little?" Qin Zihang asked.

"You were," Song Fenglan said. "A tiny little thing, and then you grew into what you are now. And you’ll keep growing."

"That’s so cool," Qin Zihang said. "The baby just lies there and can’t even walk yet."

"He’ll learn to walk later," Song Fenglan replied.

After watching the baby for a while, Song Fenglan took Qin Zihang home. The baby needed a diaper change, and the grandmother was taking care of it. Song Fenglan didn’t want to hover over the baby too long—it was better to go back home.

"Mom, did I cry a lot when I was that small?" Qin Zihang asked.

"You did," Song Fenglan explained. "All babies cry. They can’t talk, so they cry and fuss to let adults know they need something. If they didn’t cry or call out, how would we know?"

"I don’t remember being little," Qin Zihang said. "If I cried so much, how come my voice didn’t go hoarse?"

"It didn’t. You wailed so loud I couldn’t pretend not to hear. I had no choice but to take extra care of our little treasure."

"I’m a big boy now," Qin Zihang said. "I don’t cry like that anymore. It’d be too noisy."

"Even when babies cry, they’re still good," Song Fenglan said. "They can’t control themselves, so they communicate that way. It doesn’t mean they’re not good."

"Mom, I’m not a baby anymore, right?" Qin Zihang asked.

"If you can walk and jump, you’re not a baby," Song Fenglan said. "How about some fruit? Ask your dad to cut some for you."

Song Fenglan wanted Qin Zihang to find his father so he wouldn’t ask more questions.

In Beijing, Tian Keshu’s younger sister Tian Kexian was pregnant but had little to eat and lived in poor conditions. When she returned to her parents’ home, they didn’t offer her proper meals—they even hid the best food.

Tian Kexian went to where snacks used to be and searched for biscuits, but found none.

"Mom, didn’t you buy any biscuits?" Tian Kexian asked. "Why’s this stuff here instead?"

"Now that you’re both married, we reorganized the house," her mother said.

"Are you hiding food from me?" Tian Kexian frowned.

"You’re married now—why come back to eat here?" her mother retorted.

"The food at my place is terrible," Tian Kexian said. "We live outside, not with my mother-in-law. We’re crammed into a tiny rental."

She’d assumed marriage meant having her own home. Instead, she ended up paying rent. At first, her husband hadn’t even told her the place was rented—she felt tricked.

But they were already married, and she was pregnant. She was stuck.

Tian Kexian thought of Second Brother Song—if only her sister hadn’t messed everything up, everyone could’ve been living well. Thanks to her sister’s meddling, everything fell apart.

"Back then, when Sister came home, you'd steam egg custard for her and make delicious food. Now that I'm back, there's nothing to eat, just a glass of water." Tian Kexian stared at the plain water on the table, feeling utterly disheartened.

"Your sister was with the Qin family before," Mother Tian said. "Things are different at home now."

If the family's situation were better, Mother Tian would naturally give Tian Kexian more to eat, but the family was struggling. Mother Tian wished for better things, but if they didn’t save now, they’d have nothing later. Tian Kexian was a married daughter, and her in-laws were poor—there was no way they could help support her parents’ home.

"Your sister brought back many things for the family back then. And you? You only think about taking things from home, never about bringing anything back." Mother Tian was quite displeased with Tian Kexian—this daughter was a waste.

"Sister did bring things back—she even took the chickens meant for her sister-in-law's confinement period and the money meant for her nephews," Tian Kexian retorted. "If she hadn't done that, she wouldn't have divorced her first husband."

Tian Kexian rolled her eyes. Bringing things back to her parents’ home? Only if they were truly hers—otherwise, it would all have to be returned sooner or later.

"Do you think I'm like Sister, planning to divorce and remarry, jumping from man to man?" Tian Kexian sneered.

Just then, Tian Keshu returned home and overheard her. "Tian Kexian, what did you say?"

"I said you shouldn't have taken things that weren't yours. If you hadn't, you wouldn't have had to divorce," Tian Kexian shot back. "Is your current husband as good as your first one?"

Tian Keshu felt stung. Her current husband was no match for her first.

Both were in second marriages, and second marriages never measured up to the first. If Tian Keshu made even the slightest mistake, her husband would criticize her. Because she had taken things from her in-laws and her sister-in-law back to her parents’ home before, her current husband watched her like a hawk, afraid she'd empty their home for her family.

Tian Keshu had to tread carefully to avoid her husband’s complaints. She had no job and relied on him for support, and with her family branded as counterrevolutionaries, she had no clout in her marital home. If the Tian family hadn’t been implicated in such a scandal, Tian Keshu might have had more leverage in her marriage.

"Sister, you made your own bed," Tian Kexian said. "With your example, I certainly won’t follow in your footsteps."

"Enough," Tian Keshu snapped. "Mind your own business. I can handle my life."

"You're my sister—can’t I say what I think?" Tian Kexian took a sip of water. "We’re sisters—what’s wrong with speaking up?"

"Keep your unpleasant opinions to yourself," Tian Keshu said.

"It’s the truth, not just unpleasant words," Tian Kexian countered. "Sister, because of your actions, I—"

"Are you going to bring up Second Brother Song again?" Tian Keshu interrupted. "Don’t kid yourself. Even without all that, he’d never look at you."

"That’s not necessarily true," Tian Kexian said.

Second Brother Song still hadn’t married, not because he didn’t want to, but because he hadn’t met the right person. He had been through a lot and didn’t want to rush into a marriage full of conflicts—it was better to wait.

Mother Song had considered matchmaking for him, but some suggestions were downright shady. Some women were already married with children in the countryside, yet matchmakers still proposed them. Second Brother Song wouldn’t touch those women with a ten-foot pole, and the Song family wouldn’t allow them in.

The educated youth who abandoned their husbands and children to return to the city and remarry—that was their choice. But they could marry into other families, not the Songs.

Elder Brother Song’s children were now studying in the city and keeping up with city kids. Back in the countryside, the Song family had ensured they weren’t illiterate. At first, the children had a hard time fitting in at school, but they gradually adapted.

In the early days after the Song family’s political rehabilitation, other children avoided them at school, their parents warning them not to play with the Songs. Now, though the warnings had stopped, Elder Brother Song’s children wanted nothing to do with those who had shunned them initially—they played with others instead.

Occasionally, Mother Song would ask Second Brother Song if he had found someone. When he said no, she’d let it drop.

That evening, Second Brother Song called Song Fenglan to transfer the rent money. He wasn’t short on funds, but monthly transfers were a hassle, so they had agreed on biannual payments.

Elder Brother Song and Sister Song didn’t interfere—Song Fenglan and her husband only rented out the house the Qins gave them. The house from the Song family remained unrented, used for storage, and the family visited occasionally to clean and check on it.

"Have you thought about bringing Zi Hang back to the capital for school?" Second Brother Song asked. The capital’s conditions were better than Nancheng’s.

"He’s still young—no hurry," Song Fenglan said. She couldn’t stand to send her child away, nor did she trust leaving him alone in the capital. Though Grandma and Grandpa would care for Qin Zihang, there’s no substitute for Mom and Dad—the child would still miss them. "He’ll get just as good an education staying in Nancheng. As long as he has the ability, he won’t lack opportunities."

"You can decide in a few years," Second Brother Song said. "No hurry. Maybe by then, you'll all come back to the capital anyway."

"Could be," Song Fenglan said, uncertain whether she would stay at the research institute in Nancheng forever. She might end up transferring to one in the capital someday. She definitely preferred the educational opportunities there. In her past life, she had heard classmates from the capital say that their scores were enough to get into Tsinghua or Peking University, and that had made her envious.

Who wouldn’t want an easier path to a top school? But a capital hukou (household registration) wasn’t easy to get.

"Zihang just started first grade, and next semester he’ll move to second—it’s still early," Song Fenglan said. "I’d prefer to raise him myself."

"Uncle! Uncle!" Qin Zihang, hearing his mother mention him, immediately called out. "Uncle, are you Big Uncle or Second Uncle?"

Song Fenglan handed the phone to Qin Zihang so he could talk to her younger brother, Song Erge.

"I’m your Second Uncle," Song Erge said. "What’s my Hangbao been doing lately?"

"I went to see a baby," Qin Zihang said.

"A baby?" Song Erge asked, puzzled.

"The baby next door at Uncle and Auntie’s house—sooo tiny, like super tiny!" Qin Zihang said. "Mom said I was like that when I was little, like a little monkey."

Qin Zihang gestured excitedly, even though his second uncle couldn't see him.

"And kinda red too!" Qin Zihang added. "Its cheeks are way redder than mine. I didn’t dare touch it. Auntie said babies aren’t balloons—no poking! I didn’t poke it. I was afraid the baby would cry. I didn’t want to scare it."

"Our Hangbao has grown up," Song Erge said, thinking how he hadn’t seen Qin Zihang as a newborn. Back then, they were all working on the farm and hadn’t been able to help Song Fenglan much. "Hangbao’s all grown up now!"

"Yeah, I’m big!" Qin Zihang nodded proudly. "Second Uncle, come visit us, okay? I want you to come play with us too."

He thought about how other kids had relatives visiting—why couldn’t his?

"I took Mom to register at the university," Qin Zihang continued. "We went to the classrooms, ate at the cafeteria, and saw so many places. The university’s gigantic, like, HUGE!"

Just as Qin Zihang was chatting with his Second Uncle, Zhang Xiaohu fell out of a tree. He wasn’t at Song Fenglan’s house—he had gone to play elsewhere. A few children had climbed a tree, and in a moment of carelessness, Zhang Xiaohu tumbled down, yelling in pain.

"Ow, my leg! I can’t move it!" Zhang Xiaohu cried, while the other kids got scared.