Chapter 122: Nosebleed, One Punch and It’s Over

**Chapter 122: A Nosebleed? Just Throw a Punch**

"Why are the phone charges so high? Didn’t you know?" You Yun said. "It’s your *mom*. Since you won’t let her go out, she stays home calling people. You should count yourselves lucky not many people want to answer her calls—they’re worried about the cost. Otherwise, the bills would be even higher."

Did they really think they could stop Mom Qin from talking to others?

Impossible!

Unless they took away her phone and locked her in her room, that might work.

But if Mom Qin were left alone in her room, she’d just start yelling, making everyone’s lives miserable.

You Yun truly believed Mom Qin wasn’t suited for city life. She belonged in some backward, feudal village where she could play the tyrant of a mother-in-law. You Yun had no intention of indulging her—Mom Qin never considered her family’s well-being. All she knew was how to cause drama, every single day.

Eldest Brother Qin was speechless.

He could only go talk to his mother, asking her not to make endless calls since the charges were racking up.

"I’ve ended up like this, and you won’t even let me make a call?" Mom Qin snapped.

"It’s not that, Mom. You’re not just making one call—you’re making several," Eldest Brother Qin said. "Please, don’t call so much."

"Aren’t you earning money?" Mom Qin retorted. "Didn’t you say your salary is higher now?"

"That doesn’t mean we should spend like this," Eldest Brother Qin said. "If you have free time, why not read the paper like Dad does?"

"What’s so interesting about newspapers?" Mom Qin shot back. "My eyes can barely *see* that tiny print!"

She had no interest in newspapers. All she wanted was to gossip with the neighbors, complain about people, and vent her frustrations.

Eldest Brother Qin had a headache. His mother was such a nightmare—she never gave anyone peace of mind.

"Mom, there are too many expenses in this household," Eldest Brother Qin said. "Li An just opened a supermarket, and it’s still in its early stages. It’s not doing well yet. Please, for his sake, try to save a little."

"Let me go out, and I won’t make calls," Mom Qin bargained.

"I can let you go out more, but you have to stop making random calls," Eldest Brother Qin said. He didn’t want to waste money—I’m the only one supporting this family. His father’s pension didn’t go to him, and the weight’s all on me.

Eldest Brother Qin hoped Qin Li An’s store would do well, that business would pick up, and that Li An wouldn’t have to rely on them in the future. The thought of Li An still depending on them later made him dread the idea. If Li An weren’t underage, he’d marry him off tomorrow.

Meanwhile, many people had learned about what happened to Qin Zihang. The school even asked him to give a speech, explaining how he got scammed.

Telling his story in detail—how he was targeted, how he was fooled.

"..." Qin Zihang was stunned. His counselor had called him in just for this?

"Plenty of people already know it’s you," the counselor said. "Tell your story—it’ll be a cautionary tale. If someone as smart as *you* could be fooled, imagine how easily others could fall for it. Talk about it so everyone can learn."

"Can I not?" Qin Zihang asked.

"You can, sure," the counselor said. "But it’s up to you—either you speak openly about it, or let people spin rumors."

The counselor wasn’t forcing him, but he wasn’t wrong either. People would just make wild guesses, wondering what really went down between Qin Zihang and Peng Yong.

"Fine, I’ll do it. Consider it my public confession," Qin Zihang said.

When he got home, Qin Zihang told Song Fenglan what the counselor had said—that it was actually the *higher-ups* who wanted this.

Song Fenglan, who had been drinking tea at the time, nearly spit out her tea.

"Mom, it's me who has to make a self-criticism, not you," Qin Zihang said. "This isn't a crime or anything. It's more like a wake-up call for everyone, so they don’t make the same mistakes I did."

"You're really going?" Song Fenglan asked.

"Since so many people already know, there's no point in hiding it," Qin Zihang replied. "If people want to know, fine."

Qin Zihang didn’t think it was a big deal anymore. At first, he did, but later he realized speaking up himself might be better—he could even make fun of himself, so others wouldn’t ridicule him too much.

"You decide for yourself," Song Fenglan said. "This might not be a bad thing. Just make sure you remember this lesson well."

"I will," Qin Zihang said. "Mom, aren’t you embarrassed by me?"

"Not at all," Song Fenglan replied. Just as Qin Zihang was about to feel touched, she added, "As if you could embarrass me! People will just think I’m amazing—that’s why they targeted you."

"Well… that does make sense," Qin Zihang admitted.

"Alright, don’t overthink it," Song Fenglan said. "Try to see the positive side. It’s in the past now, and no one can change it."

"Yeah, that’s what I think too," Qin Zihang said. "Mom, I need to confront myself honestly."

Qin Zihang had always known how impressive his mother was, but after entering university, he realized it even more. He never thought he’d be the kind of person who could be tricked.

Later, Qin Zihang actually gave speeches at several campus seminars on security and confidentiality. He shared his real experiences—how he and Peng Yong became classmates, when they started getting closer, and the little things Peng Yong helped him with.

He had been raised to be too trusting—too principled. He felt that if someone helped him, he should return the favor. Since they were classmates, he never considered whether he might be exploited. He assumed that even if he was, it would only be for small things—never anything serious like betraying state secrets.

He even joked during his speech: "From now on, if any of you help me, don’t expect me to owe you one."

The audience laughed, of course. They understood he was making fun of himself, and they also recognized that having a mom like that meant the son had to be sharp too. A lot of them even envied Qin Zihang for having a mother like Professor Song, who was truly outstanding and had mentored many excellent students.

During the Q&A session, someone even asked Qin Zihang: "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No," Qin Zihang answered honestly. "I'm not even at the age where I should be thinking about marriage."

If he ever got into a relationship, Qin Zihang wanted it to be serious—not something temporary. He believed in taking responsibility, both for himself and for his future partner.

Once, Song Fenglan and Qin Yizhou sneaked in to listen to one of his speeches. They didn’t go inside but stood outside for a while before leaving.

"He came across really well," Qin Yizhou remarked.

"Those were his real experiences," Song Fenglan said. "Even little things can have huge consequences."

She felt Qin Zihang had grown a lot—he wasn’t the little boy he used to be.

"This is something he had to go through," Qin Yizhou said. "He’s an adult now. He can’t stay sheltered forever."

"True," Song Fenglan sighed, reminiscing about when her son was still very young.

Qin Yizhou held her hand. "He’s grown. He doesn’t need us to worry so much. You saw it yourself—he gave a great speech."

"Yeah," Song Fenglan nodded. She had initially worried he might not handle it well, but then she remembered—her son wouldn’t fall apart over something this small.

Actually, Qin Zihang had seen his parents but continued his speech without pause. He understood the significance of what had happened to him. He wanted more people to realize that it wasn’t just him—anyone could be deceived. Their university was among the nation’s top in certain fields, making its students easy targets.

After the speech, when Qin Zihang returned home, he found his parents still awake, sitting in the living room watching TV. He walked over to his mother.

"Mom, were you at the school tonight?" Qin Zihang asked.

"We were," Song Fenglan nodded. "Just to see you."

"How'd it go?" Qin Zihang asked again.

"Just fine," Song Fenglan replied. "There's nothing to worry about—just face it calmly."

"Mom, I think I did pretty well too," Qin Zihang said. "After speaking out, I felt a lot better. People were setting me up, and I didn’t realize it or see through them—it was easy to fall for it. Luckily, I didn’t actually leak any secrets or unintentionally reveal more."

The thought made him uneasy—he was relieved that his mother was okay. He had long been taught not to casually disclose his mother’s whereabouts—that was also something they needed to keep under wraps. After all, some researchers either end up in car accidents or other incidents, manipulated by someone behind the scenes.

"Mom, I..." Qin Zihang hesitated, then stopped.

"What is it?" Song Fenglan asked. "Is it something you can't say because your dad is here?"

Qin Yizhou looked at Qin Zihang. "Can’t let me know?"

"No," Qin Zihang shook his head. "It’s just that other schools know what happened to me, though they might not know my name."

"Oh, so now the whole world knows, huh?" Song Fenglan said. "No big deal. Work harder and win back your reputation."

"Dad, Mom, you really don’t feel embarrassed by me?" Qin Zihang sighed.

"Haven’t I told you? You could never embarrass me," Song Fenglan said. "I don’t rely on you for respect. Ask your dad if he feels embarrassed."

"It’s pretty embarrassing," Qin Yizhou admitted. "People ask how I ended up with such a clueless kid."

Some relevant leaders even checked in on Qin Yizhou’s situation, advising him to pay more attention to his family—they still had too many weak spots. How was Qin Yizhou supposed to respond? He couldn’t exactly say his son was still young; after all, he was already in college. The boy needed to grow up.

Qin Zihang pursed his lips and glanced at his mother. "Mom, did you hear that?"

"I heard, I heard," Song Fenglan said. "Why don’t you two sort this out?"

"It really is embarrassing," Qin Zihang said.

"Don’t lose face over this. If you're going to mess up, do it somewhere else," Qin Yizhou said. "Better yet, don’t mess up at all. You’ve got your whole life ahead—don’t waste it being ashamed."

Recently, Zhang Xiaohu had swung by Capital Aeronautical University several times, stopping by when he could. He and Qin Zihang were close friends, and Zhang Xiaohu felt he should be there for him during this time.

When Zhang Xiaohu learned that Qin Zihang had shared his experience in a speech, he gave him a thumbs-up.

"You’re a legend," Zhang Xiaohu said.

"If I were really a legend, none of this would’ve happened," Qin Zihang replied as they walked across campus. "I’ve realized there’s nothing that can’t be said. Since it’s already a learning experience, might as well make it count."

"Did your folks give you hell?" Zhang Xiaohu asked.

"Mom says I could never embarrass her, and Dad told me not to spend my whole life messing up," Qin Zihang said. "They’re right—I won’t make the same mistake again. Xiaohu, don’t worry about me. I’m fine."

"You seem alright now," Zhang Xiaohu nodded.

Meanwhile, after Zhang Wen and his new wife moved into campus housing, they started planning to buy their own place. They knew they’d have to give the university housing back someday, so they decided to buy a home, with both families contributing financially. No one at school would give them crap for it—many teachers lived in campus housing while owning another property.

Zhang Wen and Lin Jiajia went house-hunting themselves, choosing a place they liked. Both families contributed, so the property deed had to include both their names—it couldn’t list just one.

Earlier, Zhang Wen had suggested to Lin Jiajia that her family contribute less, but after Auntie Fatty chewed him out, he dropped the idea. He just felt bad that his parents had shelled out so much for his wedding, and they’d need to take care of them later.

Once the couple finalized the house, signed the contract, and completed all the paperwork, summer rolled around.

Zhang Xiaohu didn’t go home for the break—he picked up tutoring gigs to earn some money. He knew his family was in debt, and if...

If they hadn’t helped him buy a house in the capital early on, his parents wouldn’t be so strapped for cash, and they wouldn’t have had to scramble to borrow from relatives everywhere.

When Auntie Fatty learned that Zhang Xiaohu wasn’t coming back, she didn’t mind—he’d already come home for New Year’s.

“I’m going to tutor,” Zhang Xiaohu said, calling his family to let them know.

“Tutor?” Auntie Fatty was puzzled.

“Yeah, as a private tutor, helping middle and high school students with their studies,” Zhang Xiaohu explained. “There are a lot of people in the capital who hire tutors. My grades are decent, and since there’s demand, I thought I’d give it a try. Tutoring one-on-one or with small groups can earn me a fair amount. I’ve tutored on weekends before, doing two or three hours at a time—it’s doable.”

It wasn’t that Zhang Xiaohu didn’t want to do other jobs, but he just didn’t know how. He had once considered buying goods to resell, but as a student, his priority was still his studies. He wanted to maintain good grades—college wasn’t the time to coast. Qin Zihang had told him that whether or not he planned to pursue further studies, it was best to master the material now so that if he ever wanted to, he’d be better prepared.

“Are you tutoring the whole summer?” Auntie Fatty asked. “Won’t it be too much?”

“No,” Zhang Xiaohu replied. “Tutoring isn’t that hard—it’s actually pretty relaxed. At least the pay’s pretty good, so it’s worth it.”

“Does your school let you stay there?” Auntie Fatty asked again.

“A lot of students stay at school,” Zhang Xiaohu said. “Some come from even farther away, and the trip back would cost too much. It’s better to stay at school, find some work, and not make the family shell out more money.”

The school accommodated students from distant places, many of whom came from poor families and couldn’t afford frequent travel. They could stay on campus, where the cafeteria remained open, and places like the library were accessible, allowing them to study independently and have meals and lodging.

“Is Zi Hang going with you?” Auntie Fatty asked.

“No, he has experiments to do,” Zhang Xiaohu said.

“Oh, right—he doesn’t need to. His family has money,” Auntie Fatty remarked. “Thank God for them, or else…”

She was deeply grateful for Song Fenglan’s generosity in lending her so much money.

“Your brother bought a house, did some quick fixes, and rented it out,” Auntie Fatty said. “His place is a little bigger, and Nancheng’s housing is cheaper than in the capital.”

“That’s fair, that’s fair,” Zhang Xiaohu said without hard feelings. In fact, he felt he was the one benefiting—after all, he now had a house in the capital, which would make settling there easier. “Mom, once I earn some money, I’ll send some home.”

“Don’t send it to us,” Auntie Fatty said. “If you want to send money, repay Zi Hang first. It’s not good to owe him forever. You pay him back. What we owe his mom, your dad and I will settle. We’ve already told you—when you marry, you’re on your own.”

“Okay, got it,” Zhang Xiaohu understood.

After hanging up, Auntie Fatty bumped into Gao Xiuxiu on her way home. “Auntie Fatty, are you getting a phone installed?” Gao Xiuxiu asked.

“Installing a phone?” Auntie Fatty was confused.

“Yeah, a phone. A bunch of folks have gotten them lately,” Gao Xiuxiu said. “Our family is planning to get one too. Soon, all your neighbors will have phones—why not install one as well? You won’t have to run to the payphone. With your youngest son in the capital, having a phone would let you call him often. The setup costs more upfront, but afterward, it’s fine.”

“Not for now. Maybe later,” Auntie Fatty said.

“Right, your eldest son just got married, and you’ve exhausted your savings. I heard you still owe quite a bit, don’t you?” Gao Xiuxiu said. “From Fan Yani, relatives, and even Song Fenglan?”

“You know all about it, don’t you?” Auntie Fatty was annoyed—Gao Xiuxiu was just stirring the pot. “If you want a phone, just get one. With your mother-in-law living with you, you’ll save on rent and can cover the phone bill. Not bad.”

Gao Xiuxiu’s face fell. She wasn’t thrilled about her mother-in-law moving in, but there was no choice—the family had too many expenses. If they kept renting a place for her, it would cost too much. Even the landlord had hinted that Fang Grandma was getting older and should live with them.

Not just the landlord—even people in the residential compound had been talking. Gao Xiuxiu finally decided to let her mother-in-law move in. The small room in the courtyard had been built specifically for Fang Grandma, so she wouldn’t clutter the house or interfere with chores.

Gao Xiuxiu was especially worried Fang Grandma might add questionable ingredients to her food. Given her own health, she didn’t need Fang Grandma’s “help.”

“You’ve got it good,” Auntie Fatty said. “The initial phone installation is the only big expense—after that, it’s fine. The rent you save will cover the phone bill easily.”

Gao Xiuxiu regretted bringing it up. Auntie Fatty never let anyone one-up her. She had wanted to make Auntie Fatty feel bad, knowing all the neighbors—even Fan Yani—had phones, leaving Auntie Fatty’s family the only ones without.

Auntie Fatty ignored Gao Xiuxiu and went straight home.

A phone! They’re installing a phone...

Auntie Fatty didn’t spare Gao Xiuxiu any face. That woman blabbers about every little thing, making sure everyone knows all the details of her life.

Back home, Auntie Fatty saw Zhang Chenghai weaving bamboo baskets and couldn’t help saying, “Gao Xiuxiu’s family is installing a phone. She’s so happy about it—she made a point to tell me. I said we won’t be getting one. Their family is installing it because her mother-in-law lives with them, so they save on rent. Installing a phone makes sense for them.”

Auntie Fatty deliberately raised her voice so that Gao Xiuxiu’s family next door could hear. Throwing shade wasn’t hard—anyone could do it.

“No need to install a phone for now,” Zhang Chenghai said, flinching at the mention of it. “We still owe people money.”

“Right, we should pay our debts first,” Auntie Fatty agreed. “They have two daughters—no dowry or home to buy for them. No wonder they’re better off than us.”

Normally, Auntie Fatty wouldn’t mock someone for only having daughters, but Gao Xiuxiu was different.

Gao Xiuxiu always liked provoking others. Since she had daughters herself, she acted like having sons was some kind of crime, accusing others of favoring boys over girls. Auntie Fatty particularly disliked Gao Xiuxiu—and her two daughters, who turned out just as poorly as their mother.

Zhang Chenghai figured immediately that Gao Xiuxiu must’ve provoked his wife again. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be saying these things.

“Do a good job on this basket,” Auntie Fatty said. “Later, we’ll give it to Xiao Wen’s family. They moved into the school-assigned housing and had to furnish it themselves. They’re missing a lot of basics.”

Bamboo baskets might be cheap, but if they could make them at home, they’d save a bit of money.

Auntie Fatty had never felt the need to compete with others or live more luxuriously than them. But if someone pushed her buttons, she’d fire back.

Hearing Auntie Fatty from her own home, Gao Xiuxiu was furious but couldn’t barge in. It’d be rude to confront someone just for speaking loudly in their own house. More importantly, Gao Xiuxiu feared what others would say—she had some shame. If she barged in, Auntie Fatty would surely come right back.

Two days later, Auntie Fatty called Song Fenglan to talk about Gao Xiuxiu installing a phone.

“She was gloating,” Auntie Fatty said. “She came right up to me, dripping with sarcasm.”

“Don’t mind her. She’s always been gossipy,” Song Fenglan replied. Gao Xiuxiu really hadn’t changed.

“By the way, Xiao Hu is staying in the capital over summer break. Even though he’s living at school, I’m not sure if he’ll trouble you,” Auntie Fatty said, feeling a bit embarrassed. It seemed her family was always imposing on Song Fenglan.

“He hasn’t troubled us. He’s not staying at our place,” Song Fenglan said. “He’s in college now—he can handle a lot on his own without relying on us adults.”

“He said he’d tutor to help with household expenses,” Auntie Fatty said. “We do give him money for college…”

“Expenses at school aren’t high, but going out might cost more. The capital is the capital—prices might be slightly higher, but not too bad,” Song Fenglan said. “It’s good that he wants to tutor. Working for his money is better than resorting to dishonest means.”

“That’s true,” Auntie Fatty agreed. “Round trips to Nan City cost a lot. It’s better for him to stay there and find something to do. His school won’t stop him, right?”

“Of course not,” Song Fenglan said. “It’s a work-study program. Plenty of families struggle—not everyone is rich. Many college students don’t understand how hard it is to earn money, just hitting up their parents, and their parents might not even be able to afford it. Xiao Hu tutoring will teach him the value of money.”

“You’re right,” Auntie Fatty said. “I just hope no one cons him.”

“Unlikely,” Song Fenglan reassured. “As long as he doesn’t wander off recklessly, he’ll be fine. If you’re worried and can’t reach him, let us know. We’ll have someone check on him so you can rest easy.”

“True. With you around, we’re covered,” Auntie Fatty said. “It’s good to study in a city where you know people. Things are much more convenient.”

After chatting a bit more, Auntie Fatty hung up and returned home, humming cheerfully. So what if her family didn’t have a phone? Her son was promising—even in college, he understood the value of work-study.

Just as Song Fenglan hung up, Qin Yizhou handed her a banana.

“You and Auntie Fatty still have so much to talk about,” Qin Yizhou remarked, surprised that Song Fenglan could converse with her for so long.

After all, many people disliked talking to Auntie Fatty, sneering at her for being a country bumpkin, for her plain looks, and her lack of refinement. Yet Song Fenglan had maintained a long-standing relationship with her and could listen without judgment.

"She is a great mother," Song Fenglan said. "All her actions are for her son's sake."

"When we were in Nancheng, I thought you wouldn't be able to chat with her for more than a few sentences. I never expected you two could talk and still keep it up till now," Qin Yizhou remarked.

"Why not? Country folks are people too. We can chat," Song Fenglan replied. "You don’t need the same education to chat. I don’t like always talking about formulas or professional knowledge either. Chatting with people should be relaxed. Auntie Fatty isn’t complicated—what you see is what you get. Whatever’s on her mind is usually written on her face. And when something happens, she’s the first to jump in. That’s enough for me."

Song Fenglan thought Auntie Fatty was a good person—more sincere than many others and never one to bully people casually.

"Back then, some people said you were just pretending, that you couldn’t possibly like Auntie Fatty," Qin Yizhou said. "Some even asked if *I* was the one who ‘shaped’ you."

"What did you say?" Song Fenglan asked. "You never mentioned this before."

"It wasn’t nice to hear, so I didn’t want to tell you," Qin Yizhou admitted.

"But you’re telling me now," Song Fenglan pointed out.

"We’re out of Nancheng now, and seeing you talk to Auntie Fatty on the phone just made me think of it," Qin Yizhou explained. "Of course, I couldn’t have changed you. If anything, *you’d* be the one changing *me*."

"Changed how? Turn you into my ideal? Erase who you are?" Song Fenglan raised an eyebrow.

"No, no. I have my own identity. It’s just that I want to become someone you like," Qin Yizhou clarified.

"Everyone has their own uniqueness," Song Fenglan said. "If everything were the same, it’d be boring."

Song Fenglan had never wanted to mold Qin Yizhou into anything. A little personality was better.

"A lively spirit is rare," Song Fenglan mused.

"You’re my only one," Qin Yizhou said, pulling her into an embrace.

Song Fenglan smiled. She and Qin Yizhou were like an old married couple by now, but hearing him say such things still made her happy. She didn’t need constant sweet talk—now and then was plenty.

During the summer break, Qin Zihang went to the research institute. He’d already picked up college-level work early and had strong practical skills. Working under another professor, he was diligent and careful not to make mistakes.

At noon, Qin Zihang ate at the institute. He had originally planned to have lunch with his mother, but her table was full of big-shot professors. In the end, he chose not to join them and sat with Ding Wenbo instead.

"Not going to the professors’ table?" Ding Wenbo asked.

"There are too many people there. I’ll pass," Qin Zihang said. "This is lunch, not class."

Qin Zihang figured that as the junior, sitting there would just get him ribbed.

"They’re not even talking about work," Ding Wenbo remarked. "They’re not *always* talking shop."

"I’ll pass, I’ll pass," Qin Zihang insisted. "Going occasionally is enough. What about you, senior brother? Not joining them?"

"Occasionally is enough," Ding Wenbo said, almost spitting out his food.

Ding Wenbo didn’t want to constantly hover around the senior professors. They looked up to Song Fenglan for her rep. Though Ding Wenbo was decent, he knew he didn’t hold a candle to his advisor. He had enough self-awareness to understand his place and didn’t overestimate himself.

Zhang Xiaohu took up tutoring. One of the locations was quite far, so he rode his bicycle there for convenience. When he received his first tutoring payment, he treated Qin Zihang to a meal to celebrate.

At the restaurant, Zhang Xiaohu looked at the menu prices and still found them quite expensive—way steeper than Nancheng’s prices. He usually ate at the school cafeteria and rarely dined out, and when he did, it was mostly near campus. During tutoring sessions, if he worked all day or had back-to-back afternoon and evening sessions, the families often invited him to eat with them.

"Breaking the bank?" Qin Zihang took the menu.

"A little," Zhang Xiaohu admitted. "If my mom were here, she’d definitely say, ‘At these prices, I could feed an army!’"

Zhang Xiaohu put on his mom’s voice. It had been a while since he’d seen her—just the odd phone call here and there—and he missed her more than he’d say.

"Back then, I used to gripe about my mom's cooking," said Zhang Xiaohu. "Now, I hardly ever get to eat it. Pretty much only during New Year’s when I go home do I get the chance. I'd been debating whether to go back this year, but my brother is throwing a wedding, so I've gotta go back."

"Your brother getting married is a big deal," Qin Zihang said as he poured water from the kettle. "You've gotta go back."

"Exactly. If he weren’t doing it then, I wouldn't go back—I'd just stick around tutoring," Zhang Xiaohu replied. "At least it'd save me some cash."

Thing is, his family was in deep debt, and Zhang Xiaohu wanted to earn as much as possible.

"At a time like this, don’t worry about saving money," Qin Zihang said. "Pay me back whenever—no rush."

"By the time later comes, money won’t go as far," Zhang Xiaohu countered. "Same amount’ll buy less."

"You're short on cash now—don’t think about that," Qin Zihang said. "I’ve got money to burn—way more than you’d think."

Zhang Xiaohu looked at him silently.

"It’s true," Qin Zihang insisted. "You know my family situation. Both my parents have jobs and make good money. Your mom works too, but she doesn’t have all the patents my mom does. My mom’s patents are actually being used—they’re not just sitting there. When I grow up, I’ll need to follow in her footsteps. Knowledge is money. It creates a lot of money. If you come into cash, hold onto it for now. Whether you want to help your parents pay off debts or whatever, that’s up to you."

"My parents said they’ll handle their own debts," Zhang Xiaohu said. "I just need to pay back what I owe you and start saving for marriage. I just hate seeing how hard they grind. I want to chip in first."

"If they said that, don’t stress over it," Qin Zihang said. "Parents have an easier time making money than we do. We’re still students—earning is tough. When your brother throws his wedding, you can give them a little something."

The food came out quick—three meat dishes, two veggie sides, and a soup.

Zhang Xiaohu had a big appetite. Since he was treating, he figured he shouldn’t cheap out.

"Another day, I’ll invite you over," Qin Zihang said. "My family’s food is good."

"Sure, it’s been ages since I saw Auntie," Zhang Xiaohu replied.

"Even if you go, you might not see her," Qin Zihang said. "When Mom gets busy, she disappears for days. When she comes home, if I’m not in the living room or out of my room, I barely see her. I’m grown now—she doesn’t check if I’ve kicked off the blankets before bed."

"If you kick off the blankets, Auntie would still tuck you in," Zhang Xiaohu said.

"Nah, Dad won’t let her," Qin Zihang said. "He says a guy my age oughta know how to cover himself. He also says if I kick off blankets now, I’ll kick my wife later."

Hearing those words, Qin Zihang was at a loss for words. His dad just didn’t want his mom to work too hard—and neither did he.

After running the store for a while, Qin Lian’s supermarket wasn’t exactly booming, but it wasn’t a total disaster either. Located near his home, most customers were neighbors. Though many knew about his past, some believed he’d turned things around and still shopped there.

A few others didn’t trust Qin Lian as far as they could throw him. They warned their daughters to steer clear, afraid he might act up again.

Qin Lian was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He couldn’t really blame people for being wary—not after he’d gone after an underage girl once, even though he himself had been underage then. The store was in the red the first month, but he had to keep going. Only by staying open could he hope to make anything.

One night, a woman showed up at Qin Lian’s store. The lights were still on, and he was about to lock up when she came rushing in.

"Someone’s following me," she gasped.

"Hide inside," he told her quickly.

A beefy drunk came stumbling up. Qin Lian grabbed a stick. "Get lost! This ain’t your spot—beat it!"

His heart pounded—he wasn’t as strong as the drunkard, but he stood tall. Though the man tried to push forward, two whacks with the stick made him yowl in pain and stumble off. The woman stayed hidden until long after he was gone.

She lived nearby and knew Qin Lian.

At the time, other shops were closed or run by women at the front. Naturally, she went to Qin Lian’s without thinking twice. By the time she remembered her family’s warning not to be alone with him, she was already inside.

"Should I call your family to come pick you up?" Qin Lian said.

"I…" The woman looked at Qin Lian, momentarily at a loss for words, slightly lowering her head. "Thank you."

She was still frightened. But seeing Qin Lian about to leave alone, she felt uneasy—too scared to stay by herself. Gathering her courage, she blurted out, "Can you take me home?"

"I… I think it's better if I call home and have someone come get your family," Qin Lian replied, aware that his past misdeeds would make people wary. He shouldn’t escort her alone.

In prison, when others learned that Qin Lian had been locked up for the rape of an underage girl, they never stopped beating and cursing him. They called him worse than an animal. Qin Lian knew he was wrong—he shouldn’t have done such a thing.

You Yun answered the phone. Despite her dislike for Qin Lian, she still went to notify the girl’s family and arranged for someone to pick her up. You Yun even went along herself. After all, Qin Lian was her stepson, and if he got into trouble, she and the Qin family would have to deal with the fallout.

The girl’s family had no idea their daughter had been followed. They only heard from You Yun that she was at Qin Lian’s supermarket. Since Qin Lian hadn’t explained the specifics to You Yun, she didn’t mention them either. But the family already held a prejudice against Qin Lian. As soon as they arrived, the girl’s father immediately punched Qin Lian, bloodying his nose instantly.