Chapter 17: Defensive and Offensive, Both at Once

Her mother sat motionless across from her on the sofa.

At first, Xiao Han paid no attention, picked up the Chinese textbook on the coffee table, and quietly flipped through it, utterly focused.

Thus, the mother watched her daughter with sharp eyes, while the daughter kept her head down reading; the living room fell silent, broken only by the occasional rustle of turning pages.

This went on for who knew how long…

Wei Shiman’s eyes grew tired, and she could no longer hold her posture; she shifted and relaxed, asking:

“Aren’t you going to say anything to your mother?”

Hearing this, Xiao Han lifted her head with a troubled expression and replied sharply: “Being your daughter is exhausting.”

Wei Shiman remained unmoved: “What’s his real name?”

“Don’t you already know?”

“I know my daughter. That might be fake too.”

Xiao Han pouted and gave a helpless smile, bluntly saying: “His surname and name don’t matter. If you insist on a convenient nickname, call him Cat or Dog.”

Wei Shiman stared into her daughter’s eyes, paused two seconds, then asked: “Where is Li Heng from?”

Faced with this deliberately provocative question, Xiao Han chose to ignore it, finished one page, and turned to the next.

Five minutes slipped away in silence; Wei Shiman, worn down, finally lost patience and snatched the book from her daughter’s hands.

She deliberately used reverse psychology: “Tell Mom—why lie? Do you like this boy?”

Just then, the family’s pet cat leapt from the other end of the sofa to Xiao Han’s side; she grabbed its neck, lifted it up, and teased it as she asked:

“What if I said I liked him? What would happen?”

Her gaze slowly drifted from the cat to her daughter; the playful tone on Wei Shiman’s face vanished, replaced by solemn seriousness.

Seeing this, the girl’s face twisted into a knot; she gripped the cat’s cheeks and pulled them outward, whimpering: “I was just testing! If it actually happened, wouldn’t you break my legs?”

Wei Shiman spoke firmly: “If it really happened, I’d start with courtesy, then force. First, I’d order you to leave him.”

Xiao Han used her thumb and forefinger to pry open the cat’s eyelids, forcing it to roll three white eyes at her mother, then sighed self-pityingly:

“Little cat, being too beautiful invites trouble. Being a person is so hard. Someone once said the exact same thing to me.”

Wei Shiman asked: “Who?”

Xiao Han answered: “Chen Zijin.”

Hearing this, Wei Shiman was startled, finally connecting the dots—Li Heng’s name sounded familiar because it was tied to Chen Zijin.

It was linked to that rumor from Shangwan Village.

Throughout middle and high school, her daughter got along best with Yang Yingwen and Chen Zijin, often inviting them over for meals.

So Wei Shiman wasn’t just familiar with Chen Zijin—she knew her well.

Imagining Chen Zijin’s delicate beauty in her mind, Wei Shiman asked in surprise: “Chen Zijin’s family isn’t poor—why would she go for that Li Heng just now?”

“Do you think he’s not good enough for Chen Zijin?”

“I won’t judge him, but in our little town, few are worthy.”

Xiao Han chimed in: “I was confused too. I once asked Chen Zijin the same question.”

Wei Shiman, unconsciously drawn in, asked curiously: “What did she say?”

Xiao Han tapped the cat’s head and grinned mischievously: “What could she say? Love is blind.

She said anyone who can’t appreciate Li Heng has faulty eyesight.”

To Wei Shiman, this sounded deeply odd.

She glared at the little devil before her, convinced her daughter was indirectly mocking her—but she couldn’t find proof.

Seeing her mother’s eyes nearly prick with anger, Xiao Han squinted and smiled, quickly distancing herself: “That’s Chen Zijin’s exact words. Don’t blame your own daughter. If you don’t believe me, ask Yingwen later.”

Wei Shiman suddenly grew curious: “Is the rumor true? Are Li Heng and Zijin…?”

Xiao Han turned her head, her eyes crystal clear: “What rumor?”

Wei Shiman slapped her daughter’s arm: “You little rascal, stop pretending! I don’t believe you haven’t heard—everyone was talking about it during the New Year fair.

There were all kinds of versions, but they all boiled down to the same thing: a poor boy slept with the rich Chen girl.”

Xiao Han kept playing with the cat: “I heard the rumor too. They say it was Chen Zijin’s aunt who caught them in the act—but you know the rule: family shame stays inside. If her aunt really saw it, how would it get out? Probably just gossip.”

Wei Shiman shook her head: “My version’s different. Chen Zijin’s aunt did catch them, but someone passing by outside the courtyard happened to overhear through the window—that’s how it spread.”

She actually believed this version more. In this era, many rural homes were courtyard-style, houses packed close together; sneaking around or affairs were commonly stumbled upon.

Otherwise, if “family shame stays inside” were truly followed, the world would be peaceful—no rumors at all.

She was right: Li Heng and Chen Zijin’s affair was overheard by Fat Aunt passing by the Chen household’s window—and it was she who exposed it.

After speaking, Wei Shiman closely watched her daughter, observing her expression.

For the first time in her life, Xiao Han felt interrogated like a criminal by her own mother; she nearly cried, but retorted firmly:

“If you had my youth and beauty, would you go for a remarried man?”

The words “remarried man” made Wei Shiman feel as if bathed in spring breeze; she smiled and said:

“Today’s rice—I could’ve haggled it down to 1.7 jiao. But I paid 3.7 yuan extra for your sake. That’ll be deducted from your allowance.”

Hearing her allowance would be cut, Xiao Han angrily squeezed the cat; the cat crouched, too afraid to resist, its face full of sorrow.

Seeing this, Wei Shiman’s smile widened, and she stood up and walked away.

She couldn’t help but sigh: Since her daughter grew up, this was the first time she’d truly gotten the upper hand—this feeling was delightful.

As for her daughter’s relationship with Li Heng, she didn’t press further, nor did she ask why Xiao Han helped him today.

Because of Chen Zijin, everything made sense.

More importantly, as a mother, she was relieved: over the past six years, her daughter had never once mentioned Li Heng at home.

So she chose to believe her daughter.

At dinner, before Wei Shiman could ask about the rice’s taste, her husband Xiao Hai took a bite and spoke up: “New rice?”

Wei Shiman picked up a piece of chicken breast and placed it on his plate: “New rice I bought today. How’s the flavor?”

Xiao Hai adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses and praised: “Soft, sticky, sweet, with a lingering aftertaste—better than any rice you bought before.”

Hearing her husband’s high praise, Wei Shiman took two bites, then smiled happily:

“It really is good. Tomorrow I’ll take two bags to your older sister—she’ll like it.”

…

(End of chapter)