Chapter 99: Awakening, The Path the Song Family Walked

**Chapter 99: Awakening – The Road the Song Family Trod**

“No, I won’t go back,” Tang Lu said. “If I do, I’ll end up forced into marriage.”

The Tang family would just keep pressuring her, maybe even block her exit paths. She knew exactly how they operated.

Why did Tang Lu stay in Nancheng? Because she refused to become their puppet. She wanted to live for herself, to make her mother proud, and to show everyone that she was different from the rest of the Tang family.

“Good you’re not going back,” Jian Lili said. “I haven’t met your folks, but…”

She’d heard bits and pieces about Tang Lu’s family before, and it all sounded like a mess. Jian Lili couldn’t even make sense of Tang Lu’s family drama. If she were in Tang Lu’s shoes, she wouldn’t want to live in such a household. She preferred something simpler—like her own family, which was alright. Her parents hadn’t supported her becoming a pilot at first, thinking it wasn’t a woman’s job.

Back then, Jian Lili dug in her heels and went for it, convinced she could make it. But during the early training, she realized how hard it was—the guys had a clear edge over the women. Even though they trained and studied together, the men were naturally stronger in this field.

At that time, Jian Lili was knocked down and unsure of herself.

When Tang Lu got sick and was hospitalized, Jian Lili’s doubts hit a breaking point. She even reached out to Song Fenglan—not just for Tang Lu’s sake, but for herself too. She figured since Song Fenglan was a researcher working on fighter jets and had helped Tang Lu, maybe they could support each other.

“Honestly, I don’t know how long I can keep going,” Jian Lili admitted. “Sometimes I wonder—am I really meant to be a pilot forever? Can I really compete with the guys? They make it look easy.”

“They have pressure too. Men are just too proud to show weakness,” Tang Lu said. She didn’t think the men had everything figured out—they just kept quiet about it.

“Yeah,” Jian Lili nodded. “Think it through. If you want to keep being a pilot and stay here, you might be stuck here even during holidays.”

“Then I won’t go back!” Tang Lu refused to force herself to celebrate with those people. She could spend holidays alone or with coworkers.

It wasn’t that she never felt lonely—but the moment she thought about how the Tang family acted, she couldn’t stand it.

Tang Shaotao blew his top when Tang Lu hung up on him. His sister had gotten too big for her britches.

When the Qins found out that Jiang’s Second Brother sold blood to repay debts, they couldn’t believe it. The Song family was rich—why wouldn’t they help him out? After all, Song Fenglan had lived with the Jiangs and even stayed there after giving birth.

Qin’s mom thought the Songs were cold-hearted, not caring about their own relatives. She struggled to believe it was true and even double-checked. When Qin’s eldest aunt came by, she asked again.

“It’s true,” Qin’s eldest aunt nodded. “People saw him—he sold a lot of blood. He looked pale, completely drained. They dug themselves deep into debt and couldn’t pay it back, so he sold blood.”

“The Song family didn’t lend them money?” Qin’s mom asked.

“I heard the Jiangs told them not to,” Qin’s eldest aunt replied. “They borrowed everywhere, got themselves into trouble. The Jiangs probably wanted them to learn a lesson—to understand how hard money is to earn. Honestly, they barely got back from the countryside and already turned to loan sharks? That’s insane. I wouldn’t touch those loans—the interest is way too high.”

Qin’s mom went white.

“What’s wrong?” Qin’s eldest aunt frowned at her expression. “It’s not like you sold blood. What’s there to be scared about?”

“The Song family is heartless,” Qin’s mom muttered.

“If the Jiangs told them not to lend money, they were just following orders. There’s nothing wrong with that,” Qin’s eldest aunt said. “Who could’ve guessed he’d go as far as selling blood?”

“They…” Qin’s mom opened her mouth but stayed silent.

“You’re thinking about how they treat your family—especially your eldest son, aren’t you?” Qin’s eldest aunt figured it out right away. “Don’t expect the Song family to help him. They won’t. Best you’ll get is some health gifts from Yi Zhou and his wife—that’s already generous. Don’t push your luck.”

Qin’s mom narrowed her eyes. Even now, Qin’s eldest aunt still took the Song family’s side. “They won’t help us, and they won’t help you either.”

“So what? As long as they don’t cause us trouble, we should be grateful,” Qin’s eldest aunt shrugged, good at comforting herself. She hadn’t been particularly kind to Song Fenglan—she was just relieved they hadn’t retaliated.

Qin’s mom felt exhausted talking to her. She wanted someone to complain about the Song family with, not someone who defended them.

About a week later, Song Fenglan was on vacation. She and her husband took Qin Zihang to visit Aunt Yu. With what happened to Jiang’s Second Brother, they figured Aunt Yu might be taking it hard.

"Auntie Yu." Qin Zihang smiled as he greeted Auntie Yu, holding a basket of fruit. "Auntie, I picked these fruits myself—they must be sweet."

"If Hangbao chose them, they're sure to be great," Auntie Yu nodded.

Song Fenglan asked Qin Yizhou to take Qin Zihang out for a walk while she spoke with Auntie Yu privately.

"How is Jiang Er-ge doing now?" Song Fenglan asked. "He wasn’t at home? I didn’t see him, so I left the things with Auntie Jiang."

"He went out to set up his street stall," Auntie Yu sighed. "He said he’d rested too many days and couldn’t stay idle—he needed to go out and work. With so much debt, if he doesn’t work, how can he repay it? He can’t keep others waiting forever. Even among relatives… owing money for too long makes people talk."

"If it’s really too hard, then—"

"No, no, they’ll manage," Auntie Yu interrupted Song Fenglan. "No need to borrow from you. Things have already come this far, and borrowing isn’t necessary. As long as they don’t owe your family, that’s enough. If they did, I’m afraid they might not pay back. At least when they owe other relatives, they feel too ashamed not to repay."

Auntie Yu couldn’t let Jiang Er-ge sell his blood for money without making them understand how hard repayment could be. If the couple owed the Songs, who were well-off and wouldn’t breathe down their necks, Jiang Er-sao might just take it easy.

"Your Auntie Jiang has been much more diligent lately," Auntie Yu said. "She even helps make tofu now and gets up early to help out. Before, she wouldn’t do any of that—Jiang Er-ge had to handle everything himself. She saw how much her husband cared for her when he sold his blood. Letting them slowly repay the debt will give her a deeper understanding."

Auntie Yu feared Jiang Er-sao would soon return to her old ways and fail to learn from this experience. After all they’d done, and with Jiang Er-ge even selling his blood, she believed they had to hold their feet to the fire. At least the relatives weren’t pressing them for repayment—that was already a mercy.

"If there’s anything we can help with, please say so," Song Fenglan offered. "A few hundred yuan—we can lend that much."

"No need," Auntie Yu replied. "Let them earn every penny themselves and plan their own repayments. Life must be lived by one’s own efforts, not by relying on others."

"As you wish," Song Fenglan agreed. Auntie Yu had helped her so much—she simply didn’t want her to feel upset.

"Don’t worry about us. I know what I’m doing," Auntie Yu gently patted Song Fenglan’s hand. "You’ve already brought so many things over—it was good of you. Thanks to those supplies, Second Brother recovered quickly enough to go back to work. Now that Auntie Jiang is helping out, I don’t need to assist as often."

Auntie Yu didn’t want Auntie Jiang standing idle—people needed to stay grounded. They weren’t meant for business or big money; they had to accept their place in life.

"I saw Auntie Jiang earlier—she was still wearing her apron," Song Fenglan remarked.

Auntie Jiang had always been timid around the Song family, so Song Fenglan hadn’t noticed much change in her.

"Let her work. The young couple must put their backs into it if they want a better life," Auntie Yu said. "Relying on others won’t last forever. I told them to remember this lesson—no more grand ideas. They need to know their limits in life."

"Mm," Song Fenglan nodded. "Now that you’ve said that, I feel reassured. I just worry you might not speak up if something comes up."

"I will, I will," Auntie Yu assured her. "I’ve always looked up to your mother—she bends but doesn’t break, and raised all of you so well."

Thinking of Sister Song and Cao Fang, then of Qin Yizhou, Auntie Yu felt the Song children had married well—none like Auntie Jiang. Logically, Auntie Jiang was more educated than Sister Song, yet she didn’t measure up. This only deepened Auntie Yu’s respect for the Song family’s judgment. Despite hardship, they knew how to choose wisely, never settling for just anyone.

"Lately, many people outside have been talking behind their backs about Jiang Er-ge and Auntie Jiang," Auntie Yu said. "Auntie Jiang stays home more to avoid hearing it."

Some even urged Jiang Er-ge to divorce her. Auntie Jiang thought they were ridiculous—they had a child together; divorce wasn’t an option. If anyone should divorce, it was them.

Though she fired back at critics, Auntie Jiang felt uneasy inside. She feared the Jiang family might push for divorce. The gossip had a point—Jiang Er-ge was related to the Songs. If he remarried, they’d likely help, even if he had a child. That terrified her. Deep down, she feared being sent back to her hometown penniless and homeless.

"People still love to gossip," Song Fenglan mused, recalling how after her marriage, rumors spread that the Qin family never approved of her and that she and Qin Yizhou would eventually divorce.

They took scraps of truth and spun tales until their lies seemed real. Those who didn’t know better easily believed them.

"They’ve got nothing better to do," Auntie Yu said. "No jobs, just chatting away on the streets."

"So you can’t stop them," Song Fenglan added. "If they bother you, just talk nonsense back."

"No point in talking about them," Auntie Yu said. She had no intention of spreading rumors—how well or poorly others lived was none of her concern. "Stay for lunch."

"No, I'll head back soon to eat," Song Fenglan replied. "I’ll drop by when I’m free. I’ve been busy lately with other things, so I couldn’t make it before."

Another reason was that Song Fenglan worried their visit might make Second Brother Jiang and Auntie Jiang feel even worse, so she waited a few days before coming. After a few days, they’d have cooled off and wouldn’t be as upset.

"Stop by anytime," Auntie Yu said.

"Sure, I will." Song Fenglan stood up. "Auntie, I’ll get going now. I’ll go see Yi Zhou and Zi Hang and go back with them."

"Go ahead," Auntie Yu waved her off, reminiscing about how small Qin Zihang used to be when she took care of him. Now look at him—all grown up.

Zihang didn't always play with the Jiang kids, but he got along fine with them—called them cousins and never argued.

He really didn’t get along with the kids from the Qin side, though. Every time they ran into each other, they’d start fighting.

Once, Zihang came home furious because his grandma had scolded him again. He'd run into Qin Lian outside and they’d argued. Qin’s mom jumped to blame Zihang, saying he was bullying his older brother and throwing his weight around.

Without knowing what actually happened, she criticized him, thinking that since his family's situation had improved and he had powerful support behind him, he was picking on her poor, precious eldest grandson.

Zihang was polite and well-mannered. Not wanting to argue with his grandma, he just took off. But she still went on about how disrespectful he was—no good attitude toward his brother or his grandma.

This only made Zihang dislike the Qins even more. Fenglan didn’t have to badmouth them—the Qins did a good enough job pushing him away themselves.

"Done talking?" Qin Yizhou asked when he saw Song Fenglan come out.

"Done," she nodded.

"Mom, are we going back now?" Zihang asked.

"Yeah, time to go," she replied.

"Hold on, let me give Auntie these." Zihang had picked some things up specially while out with Yizhou. Before coming, he had brought extra pocket money, thinking it might come in handy. The streets here were bustling, full of stuff to buy.

"Auntie, Auntie, I bought this roasted chicken for you. Eat it," Zihang said. "I bought it with my own money. Meat cheers you up when you’re down. And there’s cake too—it’s sweet."

"You aren’t eating any?" Auntie Yu asked.

"I’ll get my dad to buy me some," Zihang said. "When I was little, you and Mom always bought me food. Now it’s Dad’s turn."

"Alright, get your dad to buy you food," Auntie Yu chuckled. "You're still as cute as when you were little."

"Auntie," Zihang whispered, "I'm grown up now. Don’t call me ‘cute’—say ‘brave, unstoppable, and handsome.’”

"Okay, okay—brave, unstoppable, and handsome," she said.

"Exactly! Brave, unstoppable, and handsome," Zihang nodded. "Auntie, you’re kind, gentle, and super amazing."

"You smooth talker," Auntie Yu laughed.

"I’m not sweet-talking—it’s the truth," Zihang insisted. "Mom’s always saying how great you are and reminding me not to forget you. Like I’d ever forget you!"

"You remember stuff from when you were small?" Auntie Yu couldn’t help asking.

"I don't remember much, but I remember Auntie was kind to me," said Qin Zihang.

"Good, good," Auntie Yu said warmly. "Your parents are about to leave—hurry and go back with them."

Auntie Yu had initially wanted to ask Qin Zihang to stay and play, but given her family's situation, it wasn’t appropriate. It was better for him to go home.

Because of the loan dispute, the relationship between her two sons was strained, and Sister Jiang resented Auntie Jiang. After all, Auntie Yu had given 500 yuan to the second branch first, promising another 500 to the eldest later. But since the money hadn’t materialized yet, it was just talk. Auntie Yu and Jiang’s father were getting older—who knew if they could even save up another 500 yuan?

For her husband’s sake, Sister Jiang didn’t say much, but she still felt uneasy. She thought Auntie Yu played favorites toward the second branch. Since Second Brother Jiang and his wife had returned home, Auntie Yu had spent who knows how much on them.

If Second Brother Jiang and his wife didn’t start working hard soon, Sister Jiang thought she would have to speak up—she couldn’t let them keep taking advantage.

For now, everyone maintained peace on the surface, and Auntie Yu could sense it. She couldn’t blame Sister Jiang for this. Sister Jiang was just standing up for their fair share. In other families, a son in the city might take over the house and not let his younger brother from the countryside return. Even if the younger brother did come back, the older brother wouldn’t give him any property.

Sister Jiang was actually pretty understanding. When Auntie Yu gave money to Second Brother Jiang and his wife to rent a shop and open a restaurant, she just grumbled in private. She knew the second branch needed to pull their weight. Only when they worked hard and earned more would Auntie Yu and others not have to keep supporting them.

Looking at the things Qin Zihang had brought, Auntie Yu felt touched. Like his mother, Song Fenglan, the boy was kind and thoughtful.

Song Fenglan watched as Qin Zihang walked out of the Jiang family home and waved at him. "Did you give the things to Auntie?"

"Yes, yes. I even talked to her for a bit to cheer her up," Qin Zihang said. "When I’m unhappy, I like to eat cake, meat, and lots of food. Eating delicious things, lots of delicious things."

"Good," Song Fenglan said, glancing toward the Jiang house before heading to the intersection with Qin Yizhou and the others. The car was parked there.

Auntie Yu opened the roasted chicken—it was quite large.

"Here’s a drumstick," she said when Granny Jiang came out of her room. She broke off one drumstick for Granny Jiang and took the other for herself.

Granny Jiang didn’t suggest saving the food for her grandsons or great-grandsons. This was from the Songs, meant for Auntie Yu, not for her sons or grandsons. Though Granny Jiang’s teeth weren’t in the best shape, she could still eat meat.

"It’s delicious," Granny Jiang said.

"Right? Very tasty," Auntie Yu replied. "Zi Hang bought it specially when he went out earlier. He and his mom already brought a lot of things when they came, and he still went out of his way to buy food for me."

Thinking of Qin Zihang and then her own sons and grandsons, Auntie Yu felt he was far better than any of them.

"We didn’t raise him for nothing," Granny Jiang remarked.

"We got money back then," Auntie Yu said. "Feng Lan knows that, yet she’s still so good to me. Yu Fei always says I favor Feng Lan, but if Yu Fei were as sensible as Feng Lan, I’d treat her just as well. Even when Feng Lan was still in Nancheng and hadn’t returned, she sent us things. After coming back to the capital, even if she didn’t visit personally, she had people deliver gifts. She’s like a daughter to me."

Better than a real daughter, even.

Jiang Yufei only thought about mooching off Auntie Yu, never about giving her anything in return.

Auntie Yu had no choice. After all, Jiang Yufei was her biological daughter, so she still gave her little things now and then—just enough not to upset her daughters-in-law. Other women visiting their parents might not even receive that much, as their families often expected them to bring things back from their in-laws.

One could say Jiang Yufei had it pretty good. But she kept comparing herself to Song Fenglan, though their family simply didn’t have as much to give her.

"Your sister’s family is truly good," Granny Jiang said, able to tell right from wrong. Back then, she had allowed Auntie Yu to take in Song Fenglan not just for the money, but because she believed the Song family were decent people. Everyone faces hardships—helping someone might lead to unexpected rewards later.

And indeed, after those hard times, the Song family thrived, and their own family benefited too.

In the past, people said Granny Jiang couldn’t control her daughters-in-law. Now, they praised her foresight, calling her a good mother-in-law.

At her age, Granny Jiang stayed out of household matters, just listening quietly.

After Auntie Yu and Granny Jiang each had a drumstick, the rest of the roasted chicken was chopped up for the family meal. Auntie Yu still cared about her sons and grandsons—she wouldn’t eat the whole chicken herself.

Back home, Qin Zihang counted his spending money—he still had quite a bit left.

Qin Zihang went shopping by himself, so he knew their exact prices and what his money could buy.

"Mom, I still have a lot of pocket money," Qin Zihang said. "Mom, do you want me to share some with you?"

Clutching his pocket money, Qin Zihang ran downstairs to where Song Fenglan was sitting on the sofa watching TV.

"Share with me?" Song Fenglan raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Qin Zihang nodded.

"We'll put it in savings for you," Song Fenglan said. "In the bank, it'll earn interest."

"Okay, okay!" Qin Zihang had no objections. "I'll keep some and save the rest."

"We'll save it for your future—for a house or wedding," Song Fenglan joked.

"I want to live with Mom," Qin Zihang said anxiously, afraid of being separated from her.

"You won't say that when you grow up," Song Fenglan replied.

"No, even when I grow up, I'll still say it," Qin Zihang insisted. "Living with Mom is good. I want to stay with you forever. There are so many rooms at home—I can live there. Mom, you won't kick me out, right?"

"I won't kick you out," Song Fenglan assured him.

"Mom, you and Dad can have your privacy. You'll have the whole place to yourselves, and I'm not even home most of the time," Qin Zihang said. "With such a big house and other people around, you don't have to make me leave."

"You even know about 'your own world'?" Qin Yizhou looked at Qin Zihang.

"Of course I know," Qin Zihang said. "I'm not stupid—of course I know."

"Help him save the money," Song Fenglan said. "Once we've saved enough, we can add some more and buy a courtyard house."

"Buy a courtyard house?" Qin Yizhou was puzzled.

"Yes, to rent it out," Song Fenglan explained. "Second Brother runs a company, and we get dividends from our shares now. With what's left and no other investments, real estate was the safest bet. Given your status, it's not suitable for you to do other things. I have some income-generating patents that bring in money, and after earning, we still need to invest."

Song Fenglan thought simply. In her past life, she had bought funds—investing a thousand yuan only to lose three or four hundred. Luckily, she had invested less than two thousand yuan. If she had invested more, she would've been devastated. Song Fenglan didn't want to lose money, so buying property was the safest option. Even if prices dip sometimes, as long as the overall trend is upward, it would be fine.

"Then let's listen to you and buy property," Qin Yizhou agreed.

"If we're renting it out, then let's buy—several more," Qin Zihang chimed in. "I'll use all my pocket money to buy them."

"Sure, save your pocket money well and don't blow it all," Song Fenglan said with a light laugh.

"Buying things for Auntie isn't reckless spending," Qin Zihang added.

"Of course it's not reckless," Song Fenglan said. "You can use your pocket money to do many, many things. It's your money, and you have the right to decide how to spend it. Even if you throw it into a lake, that's your call."

"No, throwing money into the lake would make people try to pick it up, and then they might fall in and need to be rescued," Qin Zihang shook his head. "That's not something we should do. Even if no one picks it up, it would litter the water."

"You're quite the thinker," Song Fenglan remarked.

"Because I've grown up—I'm not a little kid anymore," Qin Zihang said. "I'll be starting middle school soon—of course I know stuff."

"Yes, yes, keep learning and don't be clueless," Song Fenglan said.

"People who know nothing are dumb," Qin Zihang said. "Most folks know something."

Qin Zihang is about to start junior high school, and so is Zhang Xiaohu.

The nearby junior high is decent enough. Junior high culminates in the high school entrance exam, which determines whether one can get into a good high school. Without a good high school, getting into university becomes far harder.

Zhang Xiaohu’s older brother is entering his third year of junior high and will soon take the high school entrance exam. Zhang Wen’s grades aren’t great, and Auntie Fatty worries he won’t pass. She's thinking about sending him to a vocational school—as long as he stays in school, he can at least learn some skills.

Auntie Fatty is worried sick about her eldest son’s grades. They just won’t budge. She asked his teachers, who told her that nowadays, you have to pass the entrance exam to get into high school—pulling strings won’t cut it. Even if they spend a lot of money to get him into high school, when it comes to college entrance exams, it won’t be about money anymore—it’ll come down to his own ability.

If he goes to vocational school, they need to plan early. Some schools help with job placement, but others don’t—that’s the scary part.

Auntie Fatty doesn’t know what to do, so she calls Song Fenglan. She figures Song Fenglan’s got more know-how and might steer her right.

"Choosing a school?" Song Fenglan didn’t expect Auntie Fatty to ask her.

"Yeah, he starts third year next semester, and we’ve gotta make a choice then," Auntie Fatty said. "We should get ahead of it."

"How are his grades?" Song Fenglan asked.

"Not great—he’s scraping the bottom half of his class," Auntie Fatty replied. "Based on past years, not many from his school make it to high school."

"You want him in vocational school or something else?" Song Fenglan asked.

"I want him to pick up a skill," Auntie Fatty said.

"What about teaching?" Song Fenglan suggested. "He could go to a normal school—some secondary schools offer teacher training. Teaching grade school kids down the line ain’t half bad. It’s stable work. The pay starts modest but climbs steady over time, and retirement benefits are nothing to sneeze at. Retired teachers I know live easy—way better off than young folks grinding away."

"Teaching?" Auntie Fatty hadn’t considered that.

"Exactly," Song Fenglan said. "Or are you thinking military? A couple years in the service could shape him up, but... well, you know not everyone makes a career out of it."

Auntie Fatty knows that all too well. Living in the family compound, she sees plenty of soldiers transfer out after service. Only those who serve longer land decent jobs. Short-term enlistees don’t get the same treatment. She wants her boy set up steady for the long haul.

"There’s no shortage of kids these days," Song Fenglan continued. "Schools need teachers. Male teachers are fewer, so it’s a solid option for a guy."

"That’s true," Auntie Fatty nodded.

"But it’s still your call," Song Fenglan added. "You know I’m book-smart, not life-smart. My path was clear-cut. You’ve gotta talk to your boy, see what he likes. Besides teaching, there’s skilled trades—shipyard or factory gigs, like mechanics and welders—but that’s backbreaking work. Do well though, and the pay’s not bad."

"We’ll think it through. This affects his whole life," Auntie Fatty said. "We can’t just hand him the reins."

"Right, you can’t," Song Fenglan agreed. "But you’ve also gotta consider—if you strong-arm him into something he hates and he half-asses it, it’s gonna backfire. He’ll learn nothing, waste time and money."

"Alright, I’ll ask him. You really know your stuff—we don’t understand much. We asked his teachers, but they just told us to decide ourselves," Auntie Fatty said. "Teachers are swamped—they can’t handhold every kid. They even said if they made the call and things went south, we’d blame them, leaving them holding the bag. All they can do is explain the options. The final say’s ours."

The whole thing’s got Auntie Fatty’s head spinning. Zhang Xiaohu’s grades are way better than Zhang Wen’s, mostly because he studies with Qin Zihang. Zhang Xiaohu dreams of getting into a capital university and pushes himself without needing nudging. Studying with Qin Zihang has even sharpened his study habits. If he steps it up, he still stands a chance at high school—Zhang Wen’s pretty much out of luck.

"Thanks again," Auntie Fatty sighed. "Me and his dad—we didn’t get much schooling."

"No problem," Song Fenglan said. "A kid’s whole future’s on the line—’course you’d ask around."

"What about Zihang? He’ll breeze into high school with his scores."

"Him? He’s zoned for the junior high near my job. Later on, probably the local high school too," Song Fenglan said. "Our workplace school takes both outside students and internal promotions. In-house kids get a leg up—score breaks. But Zihang still needs to grind. He can’t afford to bomb it."

"No way, no way—Zihang’s scores won’t be low," Auntie Fatty insisted.

"It’s up to him," Song Fenglan said. "We’ll get tutors lined up for breaks. Plenty of folks shell out for private tutors, and those kids’ marks shoot up fast. Don’t sweat his grades too hard—if he’s lagging, just get him a tutor. Banking on free teacher help’s a pipe dream."

"That's true," Auntie Fatty said. "Money’s for when you really need it."

"If you’re short, I can lend you some," Song Fenglan offered.

"Nope, I’ve got my savings," Auntie Fatty replied. "That’s what savings are for, right? You’re right about Xiao Hu too—when he studied with Zi Hang at your place, he did way better than his brother. I complain about his grades, but only 'cause he’s nowhere near Zi Hang—that boy’s top-notch."

Zi Hang aced every test, while Zhang Xiaohu had climbed up from the bottom of the class. He only got better 'cause of Qin Zihang.

"Not bad. We all helped Zi Hang out," Song Fenglan said. Kids feel it when their parents aren’t as educated. Both she and her husband kept on top of their kid’s studies, but Auntie Fatty and her husband, with less education, couldn’t help much with schoolwork.

"You go on, get back to work. I won’t hold you up," Auntie Fatty said.

"Alright. If you need anything, just give me a call," Song Fenglan replied. "If I’m not home, I’ll call you back later."

"Sounds good," Auntie Fatty said.

After hanging up, she went home and talked to Zhang Chenghai about their eldest son’s future, making sure the boy was there to listen.

"Aunt Fenglan says you could be a teacher or learn a trade. Of course, you could always enlist first," Auntie Fatty said. "But the army’s no sure thing—you could just do your time and come home. Better to learn a skill."

"Can I really be a teacher?" Zhang Wen asked, surprised.

"Of course! Why not?" Auntie Fatty said. "You could teach elementary school—it’s not like you’d be teaching middle school. You know that stuff, don’t you?"

"I do," Zhang Wen nodded.

"There you go. You’re not dumb—you won’t mess those kids up," Auntie Fatty said. "If you decide to teach, you’ll go to normal school. Aunt Fenglan says teaching’s steady work with good retirement. Kids aren’t going anywhere—it’s a safe bet. Teachers used to get no respect, but now that college entrance exams are back, students need teachers for high school and middle school. So, what do you think?"

"I’ll be a teacher!" Zhang Wen said firmly. "Mom, didn’t you say Aunt Fenglan’s brother is a teacher?"

"Yeah, her older brother is," Auntie Fatty confirmed.

"Then I’ll be a teacher too." Zhang Wen didn’t get it all, but if the Songs picked it, it had to be solid. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have gone that way.

"Alright then—normal school it is," Auntie Fatty smiled. "But you still gotta study hard, understand? Or they might not take you."

"Okay," Zhang Wen nodded.

Even though not many were thinking about normal school these days, Auntie Fatty wanted her son to push harder in case things changed. Good grades keep doors open.

"This is your choice. Don’t come crying to me later," she warned him. "Aunt Fenglan didn’t push this on you—she said we should let you decide."

"Teaching’s good," Zhang Wen repeated. The Songs wouldn’t steer him wrong.

Meanwhile, Song Fenglan talked with Qin Yizhou about Zhang Wen, amazed how fast time had flown.

"I remember bringing Zi Hang over when Zhang Wen was little—just starting second grade maybe?" Song Fenglan was fuzzy on the details, though she remembered Zhang Xiaohu more clearly. "Now he’s staring down exams and figuring out his life already."