Chapter 112: Mother and Daughter Outwit Each Other (Request Subscription!)

The next day.

Early in the morning, Tian Run’e arranged two bottles of baijiu, two packs of sugar, and a bowl of goose meat for him to deliver to Second Uncle.

The goose was the one brought back from Big Sister’s house last night; it was too noisy in a different place, and since her son was about to leave, Tian Run’e decided to kill it for a little feast.

After washing up, Li Heng placed his toothpaste and toothbrush on the washstand, picked up the items, and stepped out the door.

Second Uncle was in excellent spirits—he’d barely slept two hours the night before and was already in the fields working before dawn. As he entered, he saw the pond piled high with eels and loaches.

One of the loaches was enormous, coiled in the water like a snake, easily over two and a half catties.

“Second Uncle, I came to see you. How have you been lately?” Li Heng asked.

“Me? Heh, I’ve still got a few months left.”

Second Uncle chuckled, took the baijiu, twisted open the cap, and drank half the bottle straight, then wiped his lips with his hand: “Dare you eat that big loach?”

Li Heng knew which one he meant and asked curiously, “Where did you catch it?”

Second Uncle beamed: “From an abandoned old well. I spent half an hour pulling it up. If you dare, go ahead and eat it.”

Li Heng asked, “Aren’t you keeping it for yourself?”

Second Uncle smacked his lips. “I ate a big one last month. It didn’t put any meat on me. Take it, stew it, and write something good again—boost our Li family’s prestige.”

Hearing this, Li Heng stared at his gradually yellowing pupils and felt an unexpected pang of sorrow.

Second Uncle seemed to sense what he was thinking. He picked up the net and scooped up some loaches and eels.

“Little Heng, I’m about to go. You eat from me once, and there’s one less time. Don’t refuse. I can’t finish all this myself, and even the chickens can’t eat it all.”

He was talking nonsense again. Li Heng sat beside him, watching him fish and listening to his rambling.

After chatting for an hour or so, as Li Heng rose to leave, Second Uncle called out to him: “When are you going to town?”

Li Heng said, “I’m going today—I need to mail a letter.”

Second Uncle shuffled back inside and brought out a letter. “Help me mail it.”

Li Heng took it and saw—the postage stamp was already stuck on. The old man was quite meticulous: “Sure, no problem.”

Seeing Li Heng bring back such a huge loach, Tian Run’e was startled: “Did Second Uncle give this to you?”

“Yeah. Mom, take it to Big Sister. New mothers are usually anemic—this’ll help her.” Li Heng himself was also tempted by the loach.

Though loaches weren’t hard to find these days, one this big was rare. Still, good things should go where they’re most needed.

Li Lan had been salivating, but upon hearing it was for Big Sister, she pulled her head back.

After lunch, Li Heng borrowed a vintage “Big 28” bicycle from the clueless family and rode leisurely into town.

First, he mailed the reader letter he’d written to Huang Zhaoyi, then dropped Second Uncle’s letter into the mailbox. After checking the post office to confirm Wei Shiman wasn’t inside, he joined the queue for the phone.

There were no public phone booths in town—calling required lining up at the post office and going through an operator. It was cumbersome and expensive, but it was the most fashionable way at the time.

On a whim, he wanted to call the Xiao household—maybe he could get lucky and have Xiao Han come out?

There weren’t many people calling today, but there were enough. After the six ahead of him finished, Li Heng, his legs numb, sighed in relief—finally his turn.

That old lady before him must’ve had too much money—she talked for over twenty minutes. What a waste.

He remembered Xiao’s number—Xiao Han had told him recently: 885809.

But just as he finished dialing and waited for the operator to connect, his peripheral vision caught someone beside him. He turned—and nearly lost his soul.

“Li Heng, you’re calling?”

Wei Shiman had noticed his profile looked familiar, so she approached to confirm—and to ask if his family still sold rice.

Because Li family rice was delicious, she’d given some to her younger sister-in-law last month, and now her household’s grain was running low, so she’d come to inquire.

“Oh, good morning, Auntie Wei.”

Li Heng greeted her while glancing at his digital watch.

11:12

It was well past work hours—he’d assumed she wouldn’t be there. He was caught red-handed.

Li Heng was deeply annoyed.

Wei Shiman smiled and asked, “Does your mother still sell rice?”

Her tone was gentle, phrased as a question.

Because she wasn’t sure if the now-prosperous Li family still sold rice.

After all, selling rice was hard work—tiring and barely profitable.

This boy was about to hold tens of thousands in cash—would he even care about a petty trade worth a few yuan?

Don’t ask how she knew.

She’d been curious, bored last night, and read every recent news article about him—so she naturally learned about the royalty controversy.

At first, Wei Shiman hadn’t cared much—only 5% royalties? How much could that be?

But after reading another report stating 580,000 copies had been sold, she lost her calm. She immediately calculated it with her calculator—and the number stunned her for a long time.

87,000 yuan!

Eighty-seven thousand!

Even though she handled vast sums daily until she was numb, learning that an 18-year-old boy possessed such wealth still shook her.

Facing each other, Li Heng replied vaguely: “Auntie, I can’t answer yet—I need to ask my mother first.”

In truth, he didn’t need to ask—Tian Run’e would almost certainly keep selling rice.

But he didn’t say so outright.

“Alright. We still have enough rice for about three days. Tell your mother—if you stop selling, I’ll need to find another source in three days,” Wei Shiman said.

She was frustrated too. Her husband and two sisters-in-law had finally gotten used to that delicious rice—and now the seller had gotten rich. Who could she complain to?

Before Li Heng could reply, the phone connected. A clear voice came through: “Hello?”

Huh?

Her daughter’s voice?

Close as they were, Wei Shiman instantly recognized it from the faint sound.

Because her daughter’s voice resembled hers—everyone joked they both sounded like mountain spring water: clear, pleasant, unmistakable.

In one glance, Li Heng read the situation from her expression.

Li Heng sighed inwardly. He couldn’t hang up, couldn’t answer—so he gritted his teeth and spoke into the receiver:

“Is this Xiao Han? It’s Li Heng. Please call Yang Ying—her family has an emergency. Her mother needs her to come home quickly.”

He delivered it in one breath, speaking fast—afraid Xiao Han might interrupt mid-sentence.

For a moment, he wanted to let Xiao Han speak right there in front of Auntie Wei, pushing their relationship forward.

But he reconsidered. For now, he buried the thought. Out of respect, he needed to consult Xiao Han first.

After all, besides being a writer, he had another infamous label: he’d slept with a Chen family noblewoman in high school.

Xiao Han was puzzled. Why didn’t Li Heng ask about her? Why did he start with Yang Ying?

Why did he identify himself as Li Heng?

Could it be…?

Then it hit her—this call was probably made at her mother’s workplace. Her mother might be present, and he couldn’t speak freely.

Besides, if there was truly an emergency with Yang Ying, why spend money calling? Just go over in person.

Realizing this, Xiao Han grew uneasy. Why spend money calling instead of showing up? That was a red flag. With her mother’s sharpness, she’d already suspect something.

Wei Shiman was indeed suspicious.

Two points troubled her:

First: How did Li Heng know their home phone number?

To avoid disturbing her husband’s work, their number was known only to close friends and relatives.

Second: The post office was just a few steps away from home. Why pay to call? Why not just go to Yang Ying’s house?

Sure, Xiao family lived in the town government compound, requiring passage through the guardhouse—but compared to the cost, that wasn’t an issue, was it?

Was he just burning money?

Or was his relationship with his daughter so bad he wouldn’t visit?

But if their relationship was bad, how did he get the number?

Xiao Han replied: “Ying didn’t sleep much last night. She’s napping now. I’ll tell her.”

“Alright, thank you.”

The call ended, less than twenty seconds later.

Li Heng handed a yuan to the counter, smiled at Wei Shiman, and prepared to leave.

But Wei Shiman called out to him: “Li Heng, where in Shangwan Village does your family live? Is it far from Yang Ying’s?”

Li Heng said: “We’re in the same production team—Shangwan Village, Group Five. Right at the crossroads.”

This information was public knowledge—anyone could check or ask. No need to lie.

Wei Shiman invited: “You and Hanhan are classmates. Why not come home for a meal? It’s almost lunchtime.”

Well, her attitude today was a drastic change from yesterday.

Though still polite, empty words.

But Li Heng instantly understood why.

He politely declined: “Thank you, Auntie, but I’m not alone—I still need to go to Sun Jialong with a friend.”

Seeing this, Wei Shiman said nothing more, watching him leave.

Half a minute later, she also left the post office and hurried home.

As soon as she entered, Wei Shiman looked around and asked: “Have Ying and Xiao Feng left?”

Xiao Han sat on the sofa, eating an apple and watching TV, answering: “Just left.”

Wei Shiman sat across from her daughter, looking into her eyes: “I just ran into your classmate, Li Heng.”

“Oh, where?”

“At the post office. He was calling our home.”

Xiao Han took a bite of the apple: “So that’s why you rushed back—you wanted to ask about the landline number?”

She knew full well why her mother had rushed home, so she turned passive into active and brought up the topic herself.

Wei Shiman asked seriously: “How did he get our home phone number?”

Xiao Han lied casually: “It’s normal he knows it. Yingwen knows, Xiao Feng knows, Chen Zijin knows. Zhang Zhiyong and Yang Cheng know too.”

Wei Shiman fell silent, staring at her daughter, then asked after a moment: “Why didn’t he come to visit Yingwen? Why call instead?”

Xiao Han asked: “How much did it cost?”

Wei Shiman said: “One yuan.”

She added firmly: “More than half a day’s wage.”

Xiao Han’s gaze never left the TV: “Didn’t you say last night that even a remarried man has his spring? What’s one yuan to him?”

Wei Shiman frowned: “Even if you have money, you don’t waste it like this.”

Xiao Han glanced at her mother, who looked ready to drop dead from anger, then pressed on:

“It’s just that our family isn’t rich enough. If I had as much money as he does, tearing up ten yuan just to hear the sound wouldn’t matter. Besides...”

Wei Shiman asked: “Besides what?”

Xiao Han said: “Last time they came to our house to deliver rice, I poured them two cups of tea, but they didn’t drink. Do you know what that means?”

Wei Shiman asked instinctively: “What does it mean?”

Xiao Han’s right hand curled like a cat’s paw in the air, bluntly saying: “This is the Xiao Town Mayor’s house—no, now it’s the Xiao Secretary’s house. They were afraid of dirtying the cups, afraid you’d throw them away afterward, so they didn’t drink.”

Wei Shiman admitted: this hit right at her heart—if they’d actually drunk, she might have thrown the cups away then and there.

But something felt off. She asked seriously: “Are you close to Li Heng?”

“Don’t rush to deny it. I’ll ask Master Zhao and his wife this afternoon—they’ll tell me.”

Master Zhao and his wife referred to the mid-shift bus driver and conductor. Wei Shiman had known them for years and was very close to them.

Damn. I forgot about those two gatekeepers.

Xiao Han’s heart tightened. Her gaze finally left the TV. She asked her mother: “Secretary’s Lady, what exactly are you trying to find out?”

Wei Shiman returned to her original question: “How did Li Heng get our home phone number?”

Xiao Han said: “I gave it to him.”

Wei Shiman raised an eyebrow. After a long pause, she asked: “What reason did you give? Didn’t you say you weren’t close to Li Heng?”

Seeing her mother was serious, Xiao Han switched modes, smiling sweetly: “I’ll tell you something—but don’t get upset.”

Wei Shiman said: “Let’s hear what it is.”

Xiao Han pursed her lips: “I want to replace Chen Zijin as Li Heng’s wife.”

Wei Shiman’s mouth dropped open, her eyes bulged, her head buzzed, and her voice shot up a hundredfold: “What? What are you talking about?!”

She looked at her daughter as if seeing her for the first time: “Say that again?!?!!”

Xiao Han set down her apple, stretched, and said: “I used to be both rival and friend to Chen Zijin. To annoy her, I gave him the number.”

Wei Shiman knew this—she’d even counseled them both—but she never imagined their feud was over a boy!!!

Wei Shiman asked: “So are you close to Li Heng? What’s your real relationship?”

Xiao Han tilted her head, thinking for a moment: “He’s probably in love with me.”

The moment “in love” left her lips, Wei Shiman exhaled in relief.

She didn’t doubt the truth of it—her daughter was stunning; among their peers, no one could match her. It was natural for boys to be secretly in love with her.

Everything made sense now.

Why did Li Heng have their home number?

Why did Chen Zijin quarrel with her daughter?

If she were Chen Zijin, she’d have quarreled with her too.

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(Already updated ten thousand characters.)

(End of chapter.)