Chapter 20: Not Giving Up, Still Knows to Seek Help from My Big Brother…

Chapter 20: Still Not Giving Up and Even Knows to Go to My Big Brother...

The "little chatterbox" from the post office arrived outside Commander Zhong's house and immediately wanted to get down upon seeing his big brother.

Zhong Dawa waved at his younger brother.

Zhong Sanwa ran over: "What is it?"

"Tuan Tuan wants to play with you." Zhong Dawa handed the child's hand to his brother.

Zhong Sanwa bent down, took the child's hand, and tapped his cheek with the other hand: "You're a sly one, going to my big brother."

Tuan Tuan smiled shyly.

Zhong Sanwa was surprised: "You even have dimples? I'll call you Little Dimple from now on."

"My name is Tuan Tuan."

Zhong Sanwa was taken aback: "--I think Little Chatterbox suits you better."

"I'm not Little Chatterbox!" Tuan Tuan said seriously.

Zhong Dawa slapped the back of his brother's head: "He's only three, doesn't understand teasing. Don't mess with him. Auntie Su will call Uncle Zhang to pick him up once dinner's ready." He worried his rowdy brother might bully the kid: "Sanwa, if Tuan Tuan cries, I'll make you cry with him!"

Zhong Sanwa winced at the thought and didn't dare mess with the little one: "Tuan Tuan, what do you want to play?"

A three-year-old like Su Tuan Tuan would trip over his own feet playing *Eagle Catches Chicks*—what could he possibly know how to play? The most he'd done was play chess with his mom.

But Su Tuan Tuan was surprisingly precocious.

"Big brother, let's play shooting."

Zhong Sanwa was the youngest in the Zhong family—third among his blood brothers and seventh counting his four half-siblings. In all his years, no one had ever called him "brother," let alone "big brother."

The term "big brother" tickled him pink, and he decided to humor the kid.

Su Tuan Tuan seemed well-behaved, but he was still three and often didn't understand much. Zhang Huaimin worried his son might trouble the Zhong family, so as soon as Su Xiaoxiao finished slicing the lotus root, he headed to their place—even before stir-frying it.

But before reaching their house, he spotted his son—Su Tuan Tuan was playing dodgeball with a group of seven- and eight-year-old boys and girls at the Shen family's place next door.

Zhong Sanwa could be very considerate when he wanted to be, deliberately holding back his throws and only targeting Tuan Tuan every few turns to let him feel included. The kid worked up a sweat but didn't feel tired, excitedly telling his dad: "Daddy, big brother can't hit me!"

Zhang Huaimin smiled indulgently: "Tuan Tuan is so amazing."

Tuan Tuan nodded: "Daddy, you play too!"

"Can't. Mom's made dinner." Zhang Huaimin picked up his son. "Aren't you hungry?"

Tuan Tuan was hungry from playing but still wanted to continue, looking torn.

Zhong Sanwa immediately said: "I'm hungry too. Let's go eat. Su Tuan Tuan, we'll play another day!"

Tuan Tuan reached out to his dad.

Zhang Huaimin thanked the children and decided to buy a pack of candy after dinner to tuck into Tuan Tuan's pocket for the older children later.

Back home, Tuan Tuan was still excited, telling his mom about how the older children threw and dodged, then boasting that none were as good as him—they couldn't hit him at all.

Su Xiaoxiao thought to herself—if they really wanted to hit you, one sandbag would take you down.

"Go wash up first, then eat!" Su Xiaoxiao felt her son's undershirt and, sure enough, it was soaked with sweat. She shot Zhang Huaimin a look.

Su Xiaoxiao closed the kitchen door, sat him by the stove to wipe his sweat, then took off his clothes and quickly changed him into the dry ones Zhang Huaimin had brought.

At the dinner table, Su Xiaoxiao couldn't help asking Zhang Huaimin, "How many kids were playing with him?"

"There was Commander Zhong's youngest boy, Commander Shen's two daughters, and a few others I didn't recognize—not from around here, probably from the tile houses over there."

Su Xiaoxiao had recently passed through several areas on her way to buy groceries or go to work and had seen rows of tile-roofed houses, newer and more orderly than the scattered civilian homes nearby. They must also be part of the base housing.

"Those kids are quite nice."

Zhang Huaimin said, "Probably because Sanwa was there—they wouldn't dare act up."

"Commander Zhong’s youngest is that fierce?" Su Xiaoxiao was surprised. The boy looked bright and quick.

Zhang Huaimin nodded. "Reckless, yes. But it's not because they're afraid of him. Zhong Dawa is the ringleader of the kids on the island—even those three or four years older listen to him. The other kids probably don't want Sanwa snitching nonsense to him."

Su Xiaoxiao thought about the two times she'd met Zhong Dawa. Each time, he had greeted them politely, patient and gentle with Tuantuan. "I wouldn't have guessed. Also, the two we met last time were a bit taller than him—I thought he was just outgoing, but it turns out he's the oldest."

Zhang Huaimin chuckled, sliding a slice of lotus root into Tuantuan's hand. "By age, he's not the oldest. But some people, even if young, have a strong sense of responsibility."

Seeing the plates and bowls, Zhang Huaimin thought of who they'd belonged to first. "Did I forget to mention? After the former regiment commander's wife was killed by her in-laws, they got beaten within an inch of their lives too."

Su Xiaoxiao shook her head.

Zhang Huaimin continued, "If you trace it back, it was actually her own folks who caused her to fall, so the in-laws couldn't be made to pay with their lives. So Zhong Dawa rounded up boys his age, tied them up, and beat them. I was in the army then, so I didn't see it myself, but I heard the military dependents nearby tried to step in. He'd stationed a bunch of seven- or eight-year-olds standing guard with machetes and hoes—anyone who got close got hit."

Su Xiaoxiao couldn't believe it. Is this what army brats are like?

Zhang Huaimin laughed. "I suspect the neighbors didn't really want to stop them. Otherwise, how could that flimsy fence keep anyone out?"

"So Zhong Dawa became famous after that incident?"

Zhang Huaimin said, "He was already responsible before. But after that, everybody and their brother knew his name."

Su Xiaoxiao couldn't help turning to her little one. "Your son is also becoming quite famous now."

Zhang Huaimin recalled what the newspaper deliveryman had said and chuckled. "Yeah. The post office's little chatterbox!"

The little chatterbox looked up, confused. What was Dad talking about?

Zhang Huaimin said, "Finish your food. After dinner, you're going to work with Mom."

"I want to play with big brother!"

Zhang Huaimin said, "Big brother's got homework. Later, Mom can teach you, and once you learn, you can do homework with him."

Su Tuantuan didn't know what homework meant, but that didn't stop him from agreeing without hesitation.

Mentioning Su Xiaoxiao's work reminded Zhang Huaimin that the commissary was on her way. He reminded her to buy some candy.

At the mention of candy, Tuantuan dropped his spoon altogether.

Su Xiaoxiao was both amused and exasperated. "No dessert unless you clean your plate."

Tuantuan put down his spoon. Fine! He wasn't hungry anyway!

Su Xiaoxiao: "Then we won’t bring lunch either—we’ll just eat at the canteen?"

A few days ago, Tuan Tuan hadn’t been feeling well and kept asking his mom to hold him. Zhang Huaimin wasn’t much of a cook, and there were no pickles or preserves at home to go with the porridge, so he just grabbed porridge and buns from the canteen.

Tuan Tuan had eaten the buns his mom made—tasty and full of flavor—as well as the shrimp dumplings she prepared with fresh shrimp; both were far tastier than what they sold at the canteen. He got even pickier about the canteen food.

Hearing that they’d be eating at the canteen, Tuan Tuan’s face fell right away, puckering up like he was about to cry for his mom.

Su Xiaoxiao held out a piece of lotus root to his mouth. Tuan Tuan reluctantly opened his mouth, pinched it shut with his little fingers, and gave his mom a pitiful look—always trying to guilt-trip me!

While eating, Su Xiaoxiao said, "Tuan Tuan, don’t act up like other kids by throwing tantrums. That won’t fly with me. If you want to cry, go ahead. You’ll just end up with puffy eyes, and that’ll be uncomfortable for you. I won’t feel sorry for you just because you look pitiful. If you don’t listen to me, I won’t listen to you when you ask me to call a big brother to play with you."

"Mom isn’t as nice as Sister Shuang!" Su Tuan Tuan declared loudly.

"Where the heck have you been?!"

A furious shout startled the family of three. Su Xiaoxiao and Zhang Huaimin exchanged glances—the voice sounded oddly familiar.

"Day after day, can’t even find you for meals! What’s the point of having you around if you don’t help with chores..."

The grumbling faded into the distance until nothing more could be heard. Su Xiaoxiao turned to Tuan Tuan: "Sister Shuang is better?"

Tuan Tuan shook his head in fear.

Su Xiaoxiao chuckled. Suppressing a laugh, she asked Zhang Huaimin, "How many kids does Sister Shuang have? How old are they?"

"Three. About the same age as Regiment Commander Zhong’s three kids. I heard her family was too poor, so no one dared marry her. Then she met the Chief of Staff, an older bachelor. She didn’t mind his age, and he didn’t mind her poverty. They balanced each other out. But unlike the Zhongs, their first two are sons, and the youngest is a daughter." Zhang Huaimin paused, puzzled. "You’ve worked together for ages—you didn’t know?"

Su Xiaoxiao: "We only met recently. If she didn’t bring it up, how could I ask? At home, I’m always watching Tuan Tuan and never had time to notice her family. I’ve heard kids playing, but the Political Commissar’s family next door also has several. How was I supposed to know who’s who?"

Zhang Huaimin: "You haven’t visited our neighbors on either side?"

Su Xiaoxiao nodded: "What would I say? I’m the new neighbor. It’d be rude to come empty-handed. Maybe later I’ll ask Tuan Tuan’s grandma to send some specialties from the capital, and I’ll share some with each household?"

Zhang Huaimin suddenly remembered something. Before, when he came alone, he never had the habit of sending telegrams home. Now that he’s settled with Tuan Tuan, he should at least let his family know.

Zhang Huaimin: "Then write to Mom and tell her we’re doing well here."

Su Xiaoxiao couldn’t help but recall his stiff, by-the-book letters home.

Reading those letters, she’d assumed he was a quiet, dull man. In reality, he just didn’t think there was much to write. If Su Xiaoxiao wrote the letters, she’d have plenty to say.

After the meal, she took Tuan Tuan to the post office. Letting him play on his own, she used the stationery from the drawer to write to her in-laws.

First, she wrote about their safe journey, the warm southern weather—no frost yet, though the humidity was heavy. Without sunning the blankets for three days, you’d need hot water bottles to warm them up. Then she mentioned how much Tuan Tuan missed his grandparents, especially Grandma’s cooking and Grandpa’s treats. She slipped in a few lines about Zhang Huaimin and invited them to visit during winter break—we’ve got a study with a fold-out bed, and Tuan Tuan’s room is still empty. Finally, she reminded them to take care of their health, not overwork, and leave heavy chores to Zhang Xinmin.

Once she’d finished the letter, Su Xiaoxiao bought an envelope and stamps, then posted it.

Just as she placed her letter among the outgoing mail, a fisherwoman bustled in. Seeing the woman was over sixty, Su Xiaoxiao reminded her to take it slow.

The old lady in a bamboo hat sized up Su Xiaoxiao: "You’re the new Comrade Su?"

Her heavy accent made it hard to understand, but Su Xiaoxiao nodded. "Are you here to mail a letter or buy stamps and envelopes?"

"I—I want to write a letter," the old lady said shyly. "To my daughter in Hangzhou." Hesitantly, she added, "To ask if she can come back for Spring Festival."

Not likely! Workers only get a single day off. Still smiling, Su Xiaoxiao asked, "Would you like me to write it for you? Of course." She pulled out her own stationery. "Take your time—I’m still new here and still getting used to how people talk."

Wu Shuang walked in holding Tuan Tuan’s hand, about to complain to Su Xiaoxiao, "Your son’s small but bold, even chatting up folks from the next commune." But Su Xiaoxiao’s words reached her first. Wu Shuang thought to herself, *She’s got a way with words*—acting like it was her fault for not understanding when the old lady’s Mandarin was unclear.

Wu Shuang liked having a colleague like this. She released the little rascal, dragged a chair from the corner to in front of the counter, and invited the elderly woman to sit down and speak at her leisure.

The old lady jumped from topic to topic, and Su Xiaoxiao couldn’t just copy her dialect word for word. As she confirmed what the woman meant, she cleaned up the phrasing. It took her over half an hour to finish the letter.

A fisherman who was mailing items to relatives watched for a while and asked curiously, “The post office writes letters for people now?”

Su Xiaoxiao didn’t want to spend all day writing: “If we’ve got time, sure. Not now.” She took the old lady’s money and helped her stick on a stamp. “Let’s get your package sent out now. Where to?”

The fisherman handed Su Xiaoxiao a note. The paper was worn, the edges so frayed that the writing was barely readable. Su Xiaoxiao copied the address down, then rewrote it neatly onto a fresh sheet and gave it back to him, telling him to hold onto it. Then she asked for the sender’s name and address.

The fisherman took the paper and paused for a moment. After reading the neat handwriting and comparing it with his crumpled note, he quickly thanked her.

Su Xiaoxiao waved it off. “Just a small thing. Now give me the address.”

Wu Shuang took the fisherman’s items to weigh them, then packed them into a postal bag for him.

The fisherman was a little wary—not about Wu Shuang, but about Su Xiaoxiao. He doubted she was as capable as she seemed. He stared at the address for a bit before realizing Su Xiaoxiao’s handwriting was really good—better than his middle-school-age son’s. Instantly reassured, he thought to himself, *Finally, someone at the post office who can write!*

Not long after the fisherman left, two more customers came in—one was a military wife, the other a high school teacher. Both were sending letters home. Their content was similar to what Su Xiaoxiao had written: letting their families know they were fine and explaining they wouldn’t be able to come home for the Spring Festival.

After both women left, the mailman took off in the post office’s lone truck and returned half an hour later loaded with parcels.

Wu Shuang led a few others to help unload the truck. The postman walked inside and handed Su Xiaoxiao a letter. “Ma’am, got a letter for you.”

“For me?” Su Xiaoxiao wondered, *Who would be writing to me?*

Her former classmates had all gone their separate ways—some to the countryside, some joined the army, others got married—and they’d gradually lost touch. Her relatives shouldn’t have been in such a rush to send her a letter either.

She took it, saw the sender’s name, and let out a bitter laugh.

Wu Shuang asked curiously, “Who is it?”

“My parents.” Su Xiaoxiao folded it up and stuffed it into her pocket.

Wu Shuang found her reaction odd and whispered, “You and your parents don’t get along?” She glanced outside. Tuan Tuan was watching the staff come and go with wide-eyed curiosity. Wu Shuang lowered her voice further. “Even with Tuan Tuan having your last name, they’re still not satisfied?”

“I’ll tell you later.” Su Xiaoxiao came out from behind the counter and helped sort the mail. The postman delivered letters and small packages first, while larger items were either picked up by recipients or delivered at an arranged time.

Once everything was sorted and the postman left, the post office settled back into its usual quiet. Wu Shuang asked, “So what’s going on?”

Su Xiaoxiao motioned to Tuan Tuan.

Tuan Tuan shook his head and ran toward the backyard.

Su Xiaoxiao followed him to the door and heard the little boy yelling for the guy on duty—a grizzled war vet. “Grandpa, I gotta pee!”

The veteran came out of the room, but Su Xiaoxiao ignored him and went back to tell Wu Shuang: her father had been a son-in-law living with her mother’s family. Right after her grandfather’s seventh-day memorial, her father had rushed to make her change her surname.

Wu Shuang instinctively asked, “What about your mom? Did she say anything?”

“My mom does whatever my dad says!”

Wu Shuang opened her mouth, nearly blurting out, *Is your mom nuts?* but held it back. “Don’t your parents worry that Grandpa might rise from the grave to give ’em hell?”

A wild idea crossed Su Xiaoxiao’s mind—that maybe Old Man Su had reached up from beyond the grave and yanked her here just to deal with that whole mess. “They don’t care.”

Wu Shuang said, “You gonna read it or what?”

What else could it be about but the house?

Su Xiaoxiao glanced outside—no one had come to mail anything. Usually there were only a few people, and she guessed morning business was over for the day. She took out the letter and, sure enough, after learning she had joined her husband at his military posting, they wanted to move back.

Wu Shuang burned with curiosity: "What is it?"

"My sister-in-law is about to give birth. She says she doesn't want to do it at her parents' home and wants to move back to my house for her month-long recovery."

Wu Shuang: "Her elder brother's wife won't let her give birth at her parents’ place, right?"

Su Xiaoxiao wondered how she knew. Seeing Wu Shuang’s confident expression, Su Xiaoxiao asked, "How did you guess?"

"There's a saying," Wu Shuang said, "'borrow death, not birth.' Don’t be foolish. If she gives birth in your house, she'll drain all the luck from your family of three."

A colleague at the next counter couldn't help but interject, "Keep it down, sister. If word gets out, they’ll say you're spreading superstitious nonsense."

Wu Shuang: "This isn't superstition. Besides, if there weren't any supernatural beings, why would the previous owner of Xiaoxiao’s house say there was something inside?"

Su Xiaoxiao had never seen anything like that.

She'd heard before that children could see things adults couldn't. She had even asked Tuan Tuan if he'd seen an aunt playing with him. The little boy, who was still learning to talk, bluntly replied, "Don’t wanna play with auntie."

Su Xiaoxiao: "My mother-in-law said the same thing."

Wu Shuang shot a glance at her colleague—see what I mean?

The colleague said with a sigh, "My mom said it too. But we should keep this to ourselves."

Realizing Su Xiaoxiao understood, Wu Shuang skipped the explanations and asked directly, "What are you going to do?"

"Without my permission, they wouldn't dare just show up," Su Xiaoxiao said. "Actually, it's not that my sister-in-law’s elder brother's wife is afraid of her borrowing luck. My sister-in-law's family background is... let's just say it's disreputable. By today's standards, anyway. My father probably worries their child will be branded as rich peasant stock from birth."

Wu Shuang: "Still, don’t let them in. It’s easier to invite spirits than to send them away!"

Su Xiaoxiao nodded. "I’ll act like I never received the letter. Later, I’ll send another letter to my family along with some seasonal gifts and ask them to keep watch over the house."

Wu Shuang: "As long as you’ve got a plan. Is it almost noon?"

Su Xiaoxiao was about to say it was still early when she glanced at the clock—11:30.

Maybe she had spent too much time writing the letter. She worked out with Wu Shuang and the others who would eat first.

Wu Shuang, thinking Su Xiaoxiao would take longer feeding Tuan Tuan, offered to go first.

The veteran had already steamed the rice. Wu Shuang placed several food containers into the pot and, when they were ready, took out just her portion.

She noticed Tuan Tuan peeking around the doorframe, watching her. "Want some?"

The boy shook his head firmly.

Colleagues coming in one after another saw the child running back to the front and remarked, "City kids are really something. Only three and already so well-behaved, never begging for treats."

Wu Shuang couldn't help but nod in agreement.

The post office was tiny, with only an empty courtyard separating the front from the kitchen in the back. Hearing this, Su Xiaoxiao smiled and picked up her son, murmuring in his ear, "You don’t refuse food—you’re just particular."

Tuan Tuan clapped his hand over his mother’s mouth.

Su Xiaoxiao pulled his little hand away. "How about I make you something delicious tomorrow?"

Tuan Tuan hadn't eaten meat in a long time and wanted to have some from the restaurant.

Su Xiaoxiao didn’t dare suggest going to the canteen.

After several days at work, she didn’t feel like cooking on her Sunday off. After buying ingredients for lunch and dinner, she carried Tuan Tuan to the canteen and got a bowl of soy milk and two fried dough sticks, dipping the sticks in the milk.

Tuan Tuan was amazed for the first time, polishing off an entire fried dough stick and half a bowl of soy milk despite his small size. Su Xiaoxiao had no choice but to get another bowl of savory soy milk.

When Su Xiaoxiao carried him home, the child was so full that he sat motionless on the chair.

Su Xiaoxiao took out a handful of candy she had bought the day before and stuffed it into his pocket, but the child didn’t even look. Seeing him like this, Su Xiaoxiao went about her chores—taking out small taro and sweet potatoes, borrowing firewood from one neighbor and a wire rack from another, then stacking a few bricks to set up the rack under the eaves to roast the taro and sweet potatoes. She invited the children from the neighboring households to come over and eat.

Seven kids from the two families, big and small, all came over. The house came alive for the first time, and Tuan Tuan was thrilled—one moment pulling an older brother’s hand to give him candy, then offering some to a sister, then squatting beside his mother to pop a piece into her mouth, resting his chin on his hands as he watching her light the fire.

Su Xiaoxiao wanted to find some newspaper but suddenly remembered the letter she had received the day before, so she took it out to use to start the fire.