Chapter 138: Can’t Wait, Not Invited

Chapter 138: Uninvited Eagerness

Fan Yani spoke bluntly, not caring whether Auntie Fatty would be pleased—it made no difference either way. The gap between Auntie Fatty and Song Fenglan had always been vast. Over and over, Song Fenglan had helped Auntie Fatty’s family—arranging for Zhang Xiaohu to visit Beijing, lending them money to buy a house, even welcoming Zhang Xiaohu into their home during his capital visits...

One thing after another, it was essentially Auntie Fatty’s family benefiting from their generosity.

"What has Fenglan-jie given you, and what have you given her in return?" Fan Yani asked.

"Well..." Auntie Fatty thought carefully. When Song Fenglan had lived next door, they'd shared vegetables and fruits. But after Song Fenglan moved to Beijing, Auntie Fatty rarely sent anything, since Song Fenglan didn’t need those things anyway.

"Be content with what you have—contentment brings happiness," Fan Yani said. "It’s perfectly normal for Xiao Hu and Zihang to drift apart. Xiao Hu was lucky to have been friends with Zihang in the first place. Goodwill has its limits—you can’t always expect others to treat you well. That’s unrealistic."

"Sigh." Auntie Fatty sighed. "Chenghai says the same thing. I understand, but it still doesn’t feel right to me. Back then... well, things are different now."

"Fenglan-jie hasn’t changed. She and her husband have been very tolerant of you, and you two haven’t changed either. The one who’s changed is Xiao Hu," Fan Yani said. "Xiao Hu has his own family now—he prioritizes himself more. Everyone has their own interests—that’s normal. Especially after graduating, he’s seen the gap between himself and his peers."

Zhang Xiaohu wasn’t some hotshot—just an ordinary man. Landing stable work in Beijing was achievement enough. Yet Auntie Fatty still hoped he’d get further ahead, though that seemed unlikely.

Song Fenglan couldn’t keep helping Zhang Xiaohu forever—their fields of work were completely different.

"Xiao Hu said he and his wife already argued. I can’t bring myself to give them another talking-to," Auntie Fatty sighed.

Fan Yani studied her. There was truth in Auntie Fatty’s words, but she suspected the older woman also avoided criticizing her daughter-in-law too harshly. With Zhang Xiaohu’s family far away in Beijing, any scolding would only strain their relationship and hurt Xiao Hu most.

"Then say nothing," Fan Yani replied, wondering whether Auntie Fatty sought reassurance or self-persuasion.

Once-close friends now barely spoke. Fan Yani didn’t blame Song Fenglan’s family. Truthfully, Song Fenglan should have severed ties after returning to Beijing. She gained no social credit maintaining contact—no one praised her for humoring villagers.

What did it matter whether city folk looked down on villagers?

They didn’t live together or share blood. Must one befriend villagers merely to prove they weren’t prejudiced?

As times changed, Auntie Fatty’s ways wouldn’t cut it anymore—her flaws were too numerous. Fan Yani had suggested selling grass jelly because they were neighbors and she trusted her work. But were Auntie Fatty to move, Fan Yani would likely hire someone else.

After all, Fan Yani paid fair wages—this wasn’t charity. Why insist on employing Auntie Fatty specifically?

"I... sigh." Auntie Fatty exhaled heavily. "Our family mishandled things. Xiao Hu turned out this way..."

"Xiao Hu changed his station in life," Fan Yani said. "He secured Beijing hukou, owns property there. His children will attend superior schools—that surpasses most. Comparing him to Qin Zihang is unfair."

Qin Zihang came from privilege—both parents accomplished, Qin Yizhou college-educated. Meanwhile, Zhang Chenghai and Auntie Fatty hadn’t finished middle school—their education was lacking.

"Beijing hukou is invaluable," Fan Yani said. "I’d love to obtain it too, but it’s difficult. Property ownership doesn’t guarantee business success there—the competition is fierce."

Fan Yani’s contingency plan was sending her child abroad if academic performance lagged. Thus, Beijing hukou wasn’t absolutely essential. Besides, wealthier people than her didn’t all cluster in the capital.

In Nan City, Fan Yani lived comfortably. Why struggle desperately for Beijing?

"That daughter-in-law is dreadful," Auntie Fatty grumbled. "Nothing like my elder son’s wife."

"She’s not present—don’t trouble yourself over her," Fan Yani said. "Focus on local matters. Their affairs are theirs alone."

"What else can I do?" Auntie Fatty conceded.

Thus, communication between Auntie Fatty and Song Fenglan ceased. Months passed without contact—neither disturbed the other.

By year’s end, people noticed Auntie Fatty hadn’t spoken about Song Fenglan. Previously, she’d constantly praised Fenglan’s generosity. Now, her prolonged silence made neighbors wonder if they’d drifted apart completely.

With a home telephone installed, Auntie Fatty no longer used public phones. None knew whether she and Song Fenglan still kept in contact.

Here’s the improved translation incorporating the expert suggestions:

Someone went out of their way to ask Auntie Fatty, "Why don’t you talk about Feng Lan anymore? How’s she doing in the capital?"

"She’s probably doing just fine," Auntie Fatty replied.

"Either she’s doing well or she isn’t," the person said.

"We haven’t spoken in ages," Auntie Fatty said.

"Your little Hu’s all grown up now with a job. Really, you don’t need to contact Song Fenglan anymore," the person remarked.

Folks had always thought Song Fenglan was too good to Auntie Fatty’s family. Song Fenglan and her husband had helped them so much, yet rarely helped others. Naturally, others felt envious—all the perks went to Auntie Fatty’s family.

That person turned around and told others that Auntie Fatty’s family stopped contacting Song Fenglan because they felt the couple couldn’t help them anymore.

Word got around, and others began questioning Auntie Fatty. What could she say to that? She could only say everyone was busy and didn’t have time to chat much.

"How can you all be so busy? Weren’t you busy before?"

"Is it you who stopped contacting them, or them who stopped contacting you?"

"They didn’t send you New Year’s gifts this year, did they?"

...

Auntie Fatty didn’t want to listen. She went home, staring at the empty house, feeling out of sorts. Zhang Xiaohu and his wife were spending the holidays in the capital and hadn’t returned. Her eldest son and daughter-in-law wouldn’t come until a day or two before New Year’s, not arriving early.

Her eldest son and daughter-in-law wanted to come later to steer clear of drama. Too much conflict could easily lead to arguments between mother-in-law and daughter-in-law.

"Why don’t they say it’s Song Fenglan and her husband who stopped contacting us, but instead say we stopped contacting Feng Lan?" Auntie Fatty couldn’t help complaining to Zhang Chenghai.

Sitting in the living room, Auntie Fatty just kept feeling more wronged. She used to actively reach out to Song Fenglan. She knew at this point she couldn’t blame Song Fenglan—it was her own reluctance to contact her—but she still felt terrible.

Among all of Auntie Fatty’s friends, Song Fenglan was the smartest and most put-together. Whenever Auntie Fatty had questions, Song Fenglan would break it down for her—whether it was Zhang Wen attending teachers college or Zhang Xiaohu going to the capital for school.

"Why bother with what they think?" Zhang Chenghai said. "We ought to reach out to Song Fenglan and her husband less and stop leaning on them."

Before, Zhang Chenghai thought Xiao Hu needed to study in the capital, and they still had to trouble Song Fenglan for various matters. He didn’t mind Auntie Fatty keeping in touch. But now that Zhang Xiaohu had graduated, their family no longer needed much help from Song Fenglan’s couple, so they shouldn’t keep leaning on them.

Indeed, what outsiders said wasn’t entirely wrong—Zhang Chenghai’s family had gotten all the help and now stopped contacting them. Those who knew might think they hadn’t handled things well, while those who didn’t might assume Song Fenglan’s couple looked down on them.

"It just kills me," Auntie Fatty said. "Really eats at me."

Auntie Fatty felt especially miserable, like she just felt off all over.

"Should we go to the capital?" Zhang Chenghai asked.

"What would I do there? It costs an arm and a leg to get there!" Auntie Fatty said. "I won’t go. If I did, I’d just wind up fighting with Xiao Hu’s wife. That wouldn’t do."

Auntie Fatty couldn’t stand Tan Wu—she felt Tan Wu wasn’t half good enough for Zhang Xiaohu.

As the New Year approached, Song Fenglan was quite busy, while Qin Zihang had some breathing room. He deliberately bought many gifts and took them to the Xu family. He and Xu Yan had already met each other’s parents, and for holidays, gifts were expected. The woman didn’t have to send gifts to the man, but the man couldn’t skip sending them.

When Xu’s father saw Qin Zihang bringing so many gifts, he couldn’t stop smiling.

"You shouldn’t have," Xu’s father said cheerfully.

"..." Xu’s mother glanced at her husband. Usually, she was the one saying such things, but now it was him. She’d long known how much he admired Qin Zihang—and who wouldn’t? Qin Zihang was outstanding. Xu’s mother also thought Qin Zihang was excellent, and people like Song Fenglan thought the world of Xu Yan.

"Go make some tea." Mr. Xu looked at Mrs. Xu.

"I can get it," Qin Zihang offered.

"No, sit," Mrs. Xu insisted. "If you get up, we all will."

Mrs. Xu shot her husband a look—he held Qin Zihang in even higher regard.

While their son was visiting his future in-laws, Song Fenglan was working overtime at the research institute. When she got home, Qin Zihang still wasn't back, but Qin Yizhou was.

"Want me to fix you some noodles?" Qin Yizhou asked.

"No, I just ate before coming back," Song Fenglan replied. "The institute's picking this year's rising talents—results are due soon."

"Selection? Are you participating?" Qin Yizhou asked.

"I'm on the panel, voting," Song Fenglan said. At her age, she wasn't eligible—this was for under-forties. She'd already earned higher honors.

"Did you vote?" Qin Yizhou asked. "None of your students participated?"

"My student was selected last year," Song Fenglan said. "They didn't participate this time."

Most of Song Fenglan's students had scattered to other universities and labs rather than staying at Capital Aeronautical University or her own institute. Keeping even one or two was a win. With limited spots each year, there was no way they could all remain.

Some begged Song Fenglan to pull strings for them, but she shut them down: "Prove yourselves." Whether they stayed wasn't her call.

Song Fenglan saw no point in turning everyone around her into students—that would be tedious. After graduation, they could spread out across different institutions. They were all serving their country, not foreign interests.

During their training, she drilled into them: "Wherever you go, never forget home." Some went abroad after graduate school, but she didn't track their paths. While they were her students, she emphasized patriotism. After graduation? She cut ties.

Only after leaving did some grasp how much of a powerhouse Song Fenglan was in her field.

"Those students exhaust me," Song Fenglan said. "I'm done micromanaging."

"Then don't," Qin Yizhou said. "Let others handle the voting."

"They still come crawling," Song Fenglan muttered. "But I vote my conscience—no favors."

Anyone banking on connections was wasting their time. She had no patience for cronyism. Song Fenglan valued merit—the capable deserved recognition. As for those who got ahead through favors? She wouldn't interfere.

"I don't have time for chit-chat," Song Fenglan said.

"Then don't bother," Qin Yizhou said.

"Should we expect wedding bells soon?" Song Fenglan asked. "They've been dating for months."

"Let Zi Hang decide," Qin Yizhou said. "They'll tell us when they're ready. We can't get married for them."

"After New Year's, we should prepare the house," Song Fenglan said. "I had Second Brother help buy a place nearby—houses around here hardly ever hit the market."

"You never mentioned that," Qin Yizhou said, assuming she meant their existing property.

"I wasn't sure it would work out," Song Fenglan explained. "Second Brother hunted forever before snagging this place. People talk to him more easily—he's better at gathering leads."

"What am I, furniture?" Qin Yizhou groused.

"Not exactly," Song Fenglan said. "You haggle? Since when do you out-negotiate Second Brother?"

"Not really. Second Brother is in business, that’s his expertise," Qin Yizhou said.

"You do realize it’s my Second Brother’s expertise," Song Fenglan replied. "He knows the true value of the house, while we only have a rough idea. If we were to buy it ourselves, we could end up paying way more."

Song Fenglan believed that asking Second Brother Song to help with the purchase was the best choice.

"The house is a bit smaller than ours, but it’s plenty big enough," Song Fenglan said. "As for the decoration, they should decide for themselves. We don’t know what style they prefer. At our age, who knows what they like these days? Let them make their own choices—good or bad, that’s on them."

The next day, Xu Yan visited Song Fenglan and her husband. Song Fenglan pulled out the property deed right away, which bore Xu Yan’s name.

"Why isn’t my name on it?" Qin Zihang glanced at it once, then again.

"No, your name isn’t there," Song Fenglan said. "If you ever mistreat Xu Yan, you’re out of here. This is your marital home. You two can handle the decorating."

Then, Song Fenglan took out several other property deeds, all bearing Qin Zihang’s name.

"See? Here’s your name," Song Fenglan said, looking at Qin Zihang. "These are rental properties. From now on, the rent will go to you two—manage it yourselves."

Qin Zihang handed the property deed to Xu Yan, who felt a bit embarrassed. "Tomorrow—no, this afternoon—let’s go get our marriage certificate."

"Wait, what?" Qin Zihang was stunned.

"You don’t want to?" Xu Yan asked.

"I do, I do, of course I do," Qin Zihang said. "But are you sure you’re okay with this?"

"Not at all," Xu Yan replied, not the least bit bothered. Her future mother-in-law treated her so well, and Qin Zihang had handed her the property deed outright. Xu Yan thought that with the rental income alone, they wouldn’t need their in-laws to foot the bill for a housekeeper—they could do it themselves.

"Marriage is a serious step. You should still talk to your parents," Song Fenglan said, sitting nearby. Of course, she wanted her son and Xu Yan to register as soon as possible, but without the consent of the bride’s parents, that wouldn’t be right.

"I’ll go tell my parents. They’ll definitely agree," Xu Yan said with a smile. "They love Zi Hang. Auntie—no, Mom, you’re basically my mom now."

Xu Yan didn’t refuse the property deeds. Since she was about to marry Qin Zihang, of course she’d take them. These people valued her, and in the future, she’d consider them more, avoid mistakes, and be filial to her in-laws.

When Xu Yan and Qin Zihang went to the Xu family to get their IDs, Xu Yan made sure to ‘accidentally’ drop one of the deeds.

"Whoops, my hand slipped—it fell," Xu Yan said.

"What dropped?" Xu’s mother asked.

"Mom, look," Xu Yan showed her the property deed. "This one’s in my name, the others are Zi Hang’s. Mom, give me the household register. Zi Hang and I are going to get our marriage certificate."

"Marriage certificate?" Xu’s mother was surprised. "Did Zi Hang’s mother agree?"

"Yes, my mom agreed. She insisted we talk to you first, to hear your thoughts," Qin Zihang said.

"Like I’d say no?" Xu’s mother looked at her daughter’s delighted expression. Though the other deeds were in Qin Zihang’s name, once they married, her daughter would have a stake in them too.

Xu’s mother had long known Song Fenglan was generous, but she never expected her to be this generous. Even before Xu Yan and Qin Zihang registered their marriage, Song Fenglan had already given so much.

"Look at you, already counting your rent money," Xu’s mother said.

"I just want that landlady life ASAP," Xu Yan replied. "Mom, you wouldn’t believe how exhausting those kids are—I’m going bald from stress. If I had that much money, I wouldn’t even sweat a pay raise. I’d just tell them I’m cutting back on classes or teaching so many students."

Xu Yan really didn’t want to handle too many classes. She wanted more time to focus on her family. She understood Song Fenglan’s intentions—they weren’t asking her to quit or reduce her workload. That was her own idea.

What’s the point of killing yourself just to make money? Money is meant to be enjoyed. If you can’t enjoy it, what’s the point of grinding nonstop?

Here’s the refined translation incorporating the expert suggestions:

Xu Yan figured since she had so much money now, she could easily make some changes.

Xu’s mother took in her daughter’s cocky look and then glanced at Qin Zihang, thinking they should hurry up and get them hitched. She worried that if they waited too long, Qin Zihang might see Xu Yan’s real personality and back out. Xu’s mother noticed her daughter wasn’t even hiding her gold-digger vibes in front of Qin Zihang.

Soon after, Xu Yan and Qin Zihang grabbed their IDs and got their marriage certificate. They then checked out the place, discussing renovation plans. Xu Yan thought the hardware was fine and didn’t need redoing—just the furniture needed replacing. The little villa was slightly smaller than Song Fenglan’s place but still nice, plus it had a cute little yard.

The Xu family’s home wasn’t as nice, so Xu Yan imagined planting flowers in the yard later.

That evening, Qin Zihang took Xu Yan out to eat before dropping her back at the Xu household. After New Year’s, the two families would hash out the wedding details, buy new furniture, and then move into the new place.

Xu Yan was humming, riding high.

"Did you get the certificate?" Xu’s mother asked.

Qin Zihang didn’t go upstairs, heading home instead. He’d meant to, but Xu Yan said she’d face her parents alone—so her folks wouldn’t freak out thinking he’d ditch her.

"We did! Look." Xu Yan slapped down the Property Deed.

"Is this the marriage certificate?" Xu’s mother asked.

"Oops, wrong one. Here, take a look." Xu Yan pulled the marriage certificate from her bag and showed it to them.

"Alright, don’t screw this up and get sent back," Xu’s father teased.

"Dad, since when do you talk about your daughter like that?" Xu Yan shot back. "My mother-in-law adores me—she’s given me so much. Even if only one house is mine, I can still rake in rent!"

She was stoked just thinking about it. No more stressing about jobs or her parents nagging her to work. Xu Yan didn’t see Qin Zihang’s stuff as separate—now that they were married, his things were hers too.

"They’re treating you right—don’t blow it," Xu’s father warned. "A family this good won’t come around again if you remarry."

"Dad, I just got married! Don’t jinx it. Am I an idiot? With a husband and in-laws this great, why would I mess around with other guys? You think I’m like my cousin?"

Xu Yan’s cousin had torpedoed her own marriage—despite having a solid husband, she’d cheated and got caught. They only stayed together for their kid; otherwise, it would’ve been over. Xu Yan wasn’t dumb enough to pull that crap.

"Glad you get it," Xu’s mother said. "Your dad’s just scared you’ll go down your cousin’s path."

"I’m not her, and Zihang knows the story," Xu Yan said. "He doesn’t lump me in with her."

With the paperwork done, the families agreed to sort the wedding banquet after New Year’s. Xu’s parents knew Song Fenglan was busy, but the Qins respected their input. The Xu family debated where to hold it—which hotel, which relatives to invite.

When planning the banquet, Song Fenglan thought of Auntie Fatty and Zhang Xiaohu.

She decided to run it by Zihang. The day before New Year’s Eve, she asked, "Auntie Fatty’s crew is in Nanchang—skip them? What about Xiaohu?"

"Hard pass," Zihang said.

If Xiaohu came, he’d bring his wife, and other randos might come crawling out of the woodwork. Zihang didn’t want his friends dealing with Xiaohu’s wife getting some bright idea again.

"Then we’ll leave them out," Song Fenglan agreed. It didn’t matter—they weren’t expecting red envelopes from them anyway.

Song Fenglan had given out plenty of red envelopes without caring if they were paid back or not. What mattered was keeping things drama-free.

Xiaohu and Zihang ran in totally different crowds, with zero mutual friends in the capital, so nobody tipped Xiaohu off about the wedding.

Song Fenglan didn’t call Auntie Fatty or bother informing anyone in Nanchang.

To her, whether those folks got the memo was whatever. The Song family relatives were what counted—the Qins barely registered on her radar.

Here’s the refined translation incorporating the expert suggestions:

---

"We can invite them separately later," Qin Zihang added. "Wasn't it the same with Brother Xiao Hu's wedding banquet? Just invite them separately later."

When Father Qin learned that Qin Zihang was planning a wedding banquet, he was taken aback. He hadn't even known Qin Zihang was seeing someone and only found out when he attended the engagement banquet. Now that Qin Zihang was organizing the wedding, Father Qin couldn't get involved.

"When are they holding the banquet?" You Yun asked Eldest Brother Qin in the room.

"They haven't set a date yet," Eldest Brother Qin replied.

"Still not decided?" You Yun frowned.

"What's wrong?" Eldest Brother Qin asked.

"It's just that Xiao Qing's wedding is set for the sixteenth of the first lunar month. You know how it is," You Yun said, worried that Qin Zihang's banquet might clash with Xiao Qing's.

Though You Yun hadn't planned to invite many Qin relatives, Eldest Brother Qin would still need to attend. If the dates overlapped, she silently prayed he wouldn't skip Xiao Qing's for Qin Zihang's.

"Wedding banquets usually need a month's notice. They probably won't pick the sixteenth," Eldest Brother Qin said. "For Xiao Qing's banquet, we didn't send invites to my brother's family, but they know."

"That's good, that's good," You Yun murmured, desperate to avoid a clash.

Song Fenglan and her husband made sure Qin Zihang's banquet wouldn't conflict with the one for You Yun's daughter. They'd even told the Xu family to avoid the sixteenth. Some relatives were from out of town—you couldn't just notify people last minute.

After New Year's, Song Fenglan and her husband met with Xu Yan's parents. Qin Zihang and Xu Yan were there too. They settled on the sixth day of the second lunar month at a hotel, booking sixty tables.

The Song family had been sent down to a farm years ago, so while they had relatives and friends, they weren't many. On the Qin side, Qin Yizhou kept the guest list small. The bride's side had plenty of relatives, hence the sixty tables.

Zhang Xiaohu was working out of town and had a friend at Qin Zihang's chosen hotel. When he found out, he didn't confront Qin Zihang about it, just waited for an invite.

By two days before the wedding, no invitation had arrived. He even asked Tan Wu if hers was lost.

"Face it, your friend didn't invite us," Tan Wu said bluntly, pouring herself water on the sofa. "He's not your friend anymore."

"..." Zhang Xiaohu stayed silent.

"If he's not treating you like a friend, why bother?" Tan Wu added.

"This is your fault!" Zhang Xiaohu snapped.

"Not just mine. Your ex was the one chasing after him, which dragged me into it," Tan Wu shot back. "Don't pin this all on me. If your ex hadn't pulled that nasty stunt, I—"

"Enough!" Zhang Xiaohu cut her off.

"You don't want to hear it? Tough," Tan Wu said. "Zhang Xiaohu, wake up. You're nothing to him. Just some small-time worker with no money—how could you compare? You've got one lousy apartment; he owns how many? Your measly salary? He makes bank off rent. I heard his family got a payout from the demolition. Rich people."

Zhang Xiaohu would never measure up to Qin Zihang, and Tan Wu knew it. She admitted her mistakes but refused to take all the blame. Staring at him, she decided his judgment was hopeless.

"It's better this way—no invite. Now we both know where you stand," Tan Wu said.

"We still owe him gift money," Zhang Xiaohu muttered.

"So what, you'll crash the wedding to pay up?" Tan Wu scoffed. "Imagine their faces. Just forget it. If you ever see him again and he mentions marrying, fine. But don't humiliate yourself by crashing."

"Yeah," Zhang Xiaohu grunted. He knew better than to push it.

---

Zhang Xiaohu’s heart ached with bitterness. He thought about calling his mother but didn’t dare. Ah, forget it—better not call after all.

Qin Zihang’s wedding went off without a hitch. You Yun and her husband attended, as did Qin Lian and his wife. For Qin Zihang’s wedding, relatives close to Qin’s mother weren’t invited to avoid gossip from her side of the family.

Qin’s eldest aunt could tell right away—Song Fenglan and her husband had kept the Qin family guest list short. Skipping invitations was practically a snub—like severing ties. They weren’t close to begin with, and by Qin Zihang’s generation, they barely acknowledged each other.

Oh well, Qin’s eldest aunt figured. At least she had been invited. Whether others were invited or not wasn’t her concern.

Song Fenglan got tied up last minute and wasn’t there to greet guests initially. She arrived when the banquet was about halfway through. Other members of the Song family helped host, and Xu’s parents had no complaints. Xu’s father even thought Xu Yan had landed a good match—with a mother-in-law like Song Fenglan, Xu Yan’s kids were sure to go far.

“What a crowd,” Zhu Meng mused.

Zhu Meng and Qin Lian had held their wedding banquet after their daughter was born. Their celebration hadn’t been as grand, with far fewer tables and guests. Zhu Meng didn’t bother comparing herself to Xu Yan—it wasn’t even a contest.

Xu Yan swapped outfits multiple times—each one looking pricey. Zhu Meng even counted them—there were so many. Song Fenglan and her husband really spared no expense for their daughter-in-law.

Song Fenglan and Qin Yizhou’s marriage registration had been simple, with just two tables of relatives for the banquet. Back then, in those leaner times, things were naturally simpler.

Song Fenglan didn’t envy Qin Zihang and his wife, but Qin Yizhou, looking at his son’s wedding, thought back to his own. After registering their marriage, Qin Yizhou had left soon after for a mission. By the time he returned, Song Fenglan had already had the baby. Those two tables of relatives hardly made for a wedding banquet—more like a potluck.

After the banquet, Qin Zihang and his wife went to their new home, no longer living under the same roof as Song Fenglan and Qin Yizhou.

Back at home, Qin Yizhou was miles away in thought. Song Fenglan called his name, but he didn’t respond.

“Daydreaming about your son all grown up?” Song Fenglan patted his shoulder.

“Thinking about our wedding banquet,” Qin Yizhou answered reflexively.

“Our wedding banquet?” Song Fenglan was puzzled. “What wedding banquet?”

“Ours,” Qin Yizhou looked at her. “We never got the real deal. Why not throw one now?”

“That’s not appropriate,” Song Fenglan said. “If we invite folks, they’ll feel obliged to bring gifts. Think they’d be up for that?”

“We won’t ask for gifts,” Qin Yizhou replied.

“Still not right. People would have to clear their schedules. You think they’re starving for a free dinner?” Song Fenglan countered. “How many years have we been married?”

“Not quite twenty-six,” Qin Yizhou answered.

“Exactly. The timing isn’t right. If it were our thirtieth, fortieth, or fiftieth anniversary, then maybe. But now? What’s the point?” Song Fenglan said.

“Doesn’t it eat at you?” Qin Yizhou pressed. “Maybe not you, but it does me.”

Song Fenglan was at a loss for words.

“Back when we tied the knot, hardly anyone cheered us on,” Qin Yizhou continued. “Do we really have to wait for a milestone anniversary?”

“Those occasions are more fitting,” Song Fenglan said.

“By then, I’ll be too old to pull off nice clothes. You’d still want me?” Qin Yizhou didn’t dare say Song Fenglan would be old—only himself.

“Since when do I care?” Song Fenglan scoffed. “If I minded, I’d have ditched you ages ago.”

They were long past the newlywed stage, and Song Fenglan thought Qin Yizhou was just fine.

“When the time’s right, let’s throw a party—gift-free. Deal?” Qin Yizhou suggested. “I’ll handle it. If it has to be a milestone, then so be it. I’ll wait.”

“Sure,” Song Fenglan humored him. By then, he’d probably forget anyway. But if he still insisted, well, no harm in a little party.

On the day Qin Zihang got married, Zhang Xiaohu had the day off.

Zhang Xiaohu didn’t dare go anywhere near the hotel, afraid of running into Song Fenglan and the others.

Only in the evening did Zhang Xiaohu call Auntie Fatty to tell her Qin Zihang had gotten married.

"Zi Hang got married?" Auntie Fatty was surprised. "Feng Lan never said a word about it."

"They didn’t tell us or invite us," Zhang Xiaohu said. "But I get it. After what happened before, Zi Hang must’ve thought it’d be awkward to invite us."

Zhang Xiaohu figured Qin Zihang was worried he and his wife might cause trouble again. Qin Zihang’s friends and relatives were all well-to-do, high-class folks—nowhere near as well-off as Zhang Xiaohu and his wife.

"..." Auntie Fatty went quiet, not expecting things to turn out this way.

"I thought about giving a wedding gift, but in the end, I decided against it," Zhang Xiaohu said. "They didn’t invite us, so it’d be out of place to give one. It would just make things awkward for everyone."

"Don’t send it," Auntie Fatty sighed. She knew Song Fenglan had given them gifts before and never asked for anything in return.

"I didn’t," Zhang Xiaohu said. "I just wanted to let you know Zi Hang is married now. I heard his wife is the daughter of a university professor—her family background is quite good."

"Of course it is. Zi Hang has a Beijing residency, and he went to grad school and got his Ph.D.," Auntie Fatty said. "And your Auntie Feng Lan is so wealthy. Of course their family would find an excellent daughter-in-law. Unlike you—you wound up with that good-for-nothing. You should’ve kept your eyes open and picked a better one. If only you... Ah, forget it. That you and Zi Hang stayed friends all these years is a miracle in itself."

After hanging up, Auntie Fatty walked into the yard and looked up at the moon. The moonlight seemed cold to her. Memories of how warm Song Fenglan used to be came rushing back—back then, she had been so kind to them.

"Auntie Fatty, we made some pastries. Bring the kids over to have some."

"Auntie Fatty, come watch TV with us."

"Auntie Fatty..."

...

Auntie Fatty’s mind was filled with Song Fenglan’s smiling face from the past, and even the moon above seemed to transform into Song Fenglan’s grin. Suddenly, the smile disappeared—oh, it was just a cloud covering the moon.

"Why are you standing here?" Zhang Chenghai came back from outside, holding a bag of pastries.