Chapter 681: Three Buttons

Just as the elderly couple were chatting in their bedroom, faint footsteps sounded at the stairwell entrance.

The husband and wife exchanged glances and immediately fell silent.

Soon after, the bathroom door outside was pushed open, and faint voices could be heard.

Tian Rune listened closely for a long while, then whispered, “It’s Manzai and Hanhan—probably come down to bathe.”

Li Jianguo found it inappropriate to comment on the younger generation’s affairs, so he simply stayed quiet.

About twenty minutes later, two sets of footsteps climbed the stairs.

Tian Rune worriedly said, “They just got home—did they take any safety precautions?”

Hearing this, Li Jianguo spoke up: “Rather than worrying about Hanhan, you should be concerned about Teacher Yu and Zhao Yi—if either of them gets pregnant early, oh… it might spiral out of control.”

Tian Rune’s face darkened with worry; after a moment, she asked, “Jianguo, whose womb do you hope our first grandson comes from?”

Li Jianguo turned his head. “Why ask that?”

Tian Rune said, “With things the way they are now, we need to be mentally prepared—they’ll likely compete openly or behind the scenes for this.”

Li Jianguo thought for a moment and named two: “Zijin, or Song Yu.”

Tian Rune asked, “Why those two?”

Li Jianguo said, “Our family owes Zijin too much—we must act with conscience; as for Song Yu, if Manzai insists on marrying her, it would be relatively more advantageous.”

As the saying goes, a mother rises with her child—if Song Yu becomes pregnant first, she’ll undoubtedly gain the upper hand. But Li Jianguo couldn’t say this outright.

Because for the elderly couple, no matter whose child it was, as long as it carried Old Li’s bloodline, they would cherish it deeply.

But outsiders wouldn’t see it that way.

Tian Rune agreed with her husband: “But I dare not hold out too much hope for this.”

Li Jianguo nodded, understanding why his wife spoke this way: “Once this matter is settled, Manzai will probably go to Dongting Lake.”

Tian Rune asked, “Are you saying we should go to Dongting Lake to meet Song Yu?”

Li Jianguo shook his head. “Now isn’t the right time—it’s inappropriate. Even if we go to Dongting Lake, we must first understand Teacher Yu’s and the Huang family’s stance before acting. Otherwise, if we make empty promises to the Song family and can’t fulfill them, it’ll backfire—badly.”

“Sigh!”

Tian Rune let out a heavy sigh. “Actually, Hanhan would be quite suitable too—why hasn’t Manzai ever considered marrying her?”

This was also a mystery Li Jianguo couldn’t solve.

Precisely because they’d heard no hint from their son, the couple had dared not say too much when visiting the Xiao household.

…

The next day, dawn was just breaking.

Li Jianguo and Tian Rune rose early to prepare breakfast—rice and stir-fried dishes, made according to custom.

Just after seven, Huang Zhaoyi came downstairs, neatly dressed.

Tian Rune, waiting in the living room, immediately stood to greet her. “Zhaoyi, go freshen up first—we’ll eat soon.”

Huang Zhaoyi smiled. “Yes, Mama.”

Normally, the Great Blue Robe wasn’t this sweet in speech, but last night and today, she willingly used the term.

Especially seeing her mother-in-law’s pleased expression, she felt a quiet sense of contentment.

She had once worried—because of her age—that the elderly couple might harbor complaints or resentment toward her.

But now, it was clear she’d overthought it, and this gave her an unspoken joy.

Huang Zhaoyi knew her smooth entry into the Li household was thanks to Peking Opera.

Coincidentally, just as Huang Zhaoyi finished freshening up, Li Heng and Xiao Han walked into the bathroom together.

The three met face-to-face; Huang Zhaoyi smiled and greeted: “Hanhan, good morning.”

“Good morning, Zhaoyi-jie.” Xiao Han, having received the night’s rain and dew, glowed with vitality, her spirit exceptionally bright.

As one who’d been there, Huang Zhaoyi saw instantly what had happened to Xiao Han—she felt a pang of envy, but no jealousy.

As they passed, Li Heng suddenly spoke: “I’ll stay in the front town today; tomorrow I’m going to Shaoshi for some business—perfect chance to ride with you.”

He spoke this to Xiao Han, but also to the Great Blue Robe—too lazy to explain later.

Huang Zhaoyi and Xiao Han exchanged glances, then readily agreed.

During breakfast, the elderly couple quietly observed Xiao Han and Huang Zhaoyi—especially Huang Zhaoyi.

After all, last night Manzai had spent the night in Hanhan’s room, and intimate acts had occurred—yet Huang Zhaoyi showed not a trace of displeasure. This confirmed the couple’s suspicion: Hanhan and Zhaoyi had likely formed some kind of alliance.

After breakfast, the five of them piled into one car, carrying gifts, and headed to the Xiao household in town.

Tian Rune had thoughtfully brought two bags of the finest rice.

Though the Li family hadn’t farmed for two years, their dozens of paddy fields hadn’t gone fallow—they were tilled by her eldest brother-in-law’s family, who gave the Lis a share of the harvest. So they never lacked rice.

“You came, and brought so many gifts?” Wei Shiman said warmly as she opened the door, seeing everyone carrying presents.

Tian Rune smiled. “Just a few small things—just a token of our feelings. Don’t take offense.”

As soon as they entered, Wei Shiman told her daughter: “Quick, serve tea to your in-laws.”

Wei Shiman’s instruction made Xiao Han blush; when she returned with tea, she finally changed her tone shyly:

“Mama, drink tea.”

“Dad, drink tea.”

“Ah, thank you, Hanhan!” The elderly couple were delighted, and generously gave two red envelopes for the name-change gift.

Just like last night with Huang Zhaoyi, each red envelope contained 1200 yuan.

In this era, that wasn’t stingy—it was a substantial sum.

Li Heng glanced at his parents’ pockets and found it strange—they carried red envelopes on them? Had they prepared for this all along?

After serving tea to the elderly couple, Xiao Han poured a cup each for Li Heng and Huang Zhaoyi.

After chatting with the Li family on the sofa for over half an hour, Wei Shiman seized a private moment to quietly ask her daughter: “Why didn’t you come home last night?”

Xiao Han cleared her throat. “Mama-in-law liked me, so she kept me.”

Wei Shiman patted her daughter’s arm. “Last night—who did Li Heng sleep with?”

Xiao Han gave her mother a strange look. “Mom, I’m Li Heng’s wife—would he sleep anywhere else? On the street?”

“You’re not even embarrassed? Did you take precautions?” Hearing Li Heng had slept with her daughter in front of the Li elders and Huang Zhaoyi, Wei Shiman felt reassured—and then asked about safety.

Xiao Han’s ears turned red. “Oh, these past few days are my safe period, Mama.”

Studying her daughter’s eyes, Wei Shiman said: “When Li Heng is in his senior year, get pregnant.”

“Huh?”

Xiao Han was startled—she hadn’t expected her mother to say this. “You mean… stop studying?”

Wei Shiman didn’t answer, but asked: “Which is more important—studying, or marrying Li Heng?”

Xiao Han thought carefully, then said with quiet conviction: “No wonder you’re my real mom—you’re brilliant at corrupting your daughter. Your idea’s clever, but it might cause trouble.”

Wei Shiman patted her daughter again. “You’re half a doctor yourself—early pregnancy shows little until the fifth month. By then, you can wear loose clothes—no one will notice.”

No one will notice.

Also, learn to pick the right timing—ideally conceive during winter break; the months when you’re most visibly pregnant will be next summer’s vacation. Then take a leave from school—it’ll be fine. Isn’t there Professor Wenyan? That break shouldn’t be hard.”

Xiao Han looked pitiful. “But what if I have severe morning sickness?”

This was a major problem—but Wei Shiman held firm. “When I was pregnant with you, I felt fine—ate, walked, slept normally, kept working until just before you were born, then took maternity leave.”

Maybe you’re just like me—worth a gamble.”

The bedroom fell silent.

Mother and daughter exchanged glances, neither speaking.

After a long while, Xiao Han moaned: “I haven’t even finished being a daughter—I’m already becoming a mother.”

Wei Shiman felt it was cruel too, but didn’t relent.

Xiao Han asked curiously: “Why are you suddenly pushing me to have a child?”

Wei Shiman went to the door, pressed her ear against it to listen outside, then returned and said: “Last night I dreamed someone beat you to it—gave the Li family a boy. Your in-laws were overjoyed, spending years doting on that mother and child.”

Xiao Han felt sudden urgency: “Mom, who was that woman?”

Wei Shiman shook her head. “I couldn’t see her face—it was blurred, like fog. I tried to see clearly, but couldn’t. But…”

Xiao Han asked anxiously: “But what?”

Wei Shiman strained to recall the dream: “But she wore earrings.”

Xiao Han asked: “What style? Are you sure they were earrings—not studs?”

Huang Zhaoyi in the living room wore large hoop earrings; Wei Shiman understood her daughter’s meaning: “Not hoops—studs. I’m certain.”

Studs?

Xiao Han filtered through her romantic rivals—Mai Sui, Teacher Yu, and Zijin all favored studs.

Song Yu and Zhou Shihe preferred minimalist styles and wore little jewelry.

Xiao Han asked: “Mom, are your dreams reliable?”

Wei Shiman said: “Sometimes yes, sometimes no. I’ve dreamed several times that your grandmother passed away—but she’s still healthy.

But when I was pregnant with you, I dreamed of butterflies. The next day, your grandfather said it must be a girl.”

After chatting about dream interpretations, the mother and daughter didn’t linger in the bedroom—they went back out to entertain the guests.

Back on the sofa, Xiao Han kept glancing at Huang Zhaoyi’s large hoop earrings. After a moment, she tentatively asked: “Zhaoyi-jie, I notice you always wear earrings—have you ever tried studs?”

Huang Zhaoyi touched her earrings. “I have studs, but I don’t usually wear them—I prefer earrings.”

Actually, Huang Zhaoyi had once had no preference—she switched between the two.

But since becoming intimate with Li Heng, every time they were in bed, he loved to bite her earlobe, play with her earrings, and praise how they suited her temperament—so she stopped wearing studs altogether. Studs were now buried in the dust.

Relatives came to visit the Xiao household; the Li family stayed until lunch, then left.

Xiao Han and Huang Zhaoyi did not come along; they stayed at the Xiao household.

Back in Shangwan Village, Li Heng mounted his bicycle and first rode to the neighboring village to give 500 yuan to his clueless grandmother.

On the way back, he ran into his old classmate Zou Ai.

Zou Ai was electrofishing in the river; seeing him, he immediately waved and shouted loudly: “Lao Heng! Lao Heng!”

Li Heng tossed his bicycle into the grass and jumped onto the riverbank. “Lao Zou, when did you get back?”

Zou Ai stopped electrofishing, climbed out of the river, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, stuck one in Li Heng’s mouth, took one for himself, lit them both with a lighter, and said: “I got home the day before yesterday. These past two days, I’ve had nothing to do, so I’ve been out here doing this.”

Li Heng peered into the bamboo basket. “Whoa, not bad—so many mud eels and stone crawlers.”

“My pretty neighbor called me a diligent little bee—I’ve caught seven or eight catties in two hours, Lao Heng. Take some home to eat; we’ve got way too much, more than we can finish.” Zou Ai grinned.

Li Heng didn’t refuse: “Fine. I used to be great at this too, but I haven’t fished in two years. Where’d you get this electrofishing device?”

Zou Ai smoked and said: “It’s not mine—it’s my uncle’s. I borrowed it to try it out. He bought it in the county, and it’s damn expensive—over a hundred yuan.”

Rural labor rates had risen to three yuan per hour; even so, over a hundred yuan was still a significant expense.

Smoking, the two sat on the riverbank reminiscing about hard times and sweet memories, thoroughly recalling their high school days.

They mentioned Liu Yejiang. Zou Ai beamed: “That bastard dropped out of school. Heard he went to Qingdao to work.”

Li Heng replied: “Qingdao in Shandong? That’s pretty far.”

Zou Ai slapped his thigh, blew a smoke ring: “Exactly. That guy’s out on the sea working on cargo ships—he’s ruined.”

Then they brought up Chen Lijun. Zou Ai said: “I’m planning to visit Liu Li tomorrow. You coming, Lao Heng?”

Liu Li and Chen Lijun were from the same place; they’d been middle school classmates.

Zou Ai claimed he was going to see Liu Li, but his real intent was to walk through Chen Lijun’s childhood haunts.

Li Heng turned his head: “I heard from Liu Li you’ve got a girlfriend at Normal University?”

“I did, but we broke up,” Zou Ai flicked ash.

Li Heng asked: “Normal University’s full of beautiful female college students. I heard your girlfriend was gorgeous—why’d you split?”

“Ah, don’t bring it up. I kept a photo of Chen Lijun tucked in my wallet. She found it by accident and asked who she was. I said, ‘That’s my youth.’ She flew into a rage and we broke up.” Zou Ai sighed at the memory.

Li Heng was speechless: “You’re ridiculous. Keeping a photo in your wallet—wasn’t it bound to get found?”

Zou Ai said: “Who cares? It’s over. Besides, she wouldn’t let me touch her. Lao Heng, you free tomorrow?”

Li Heng said: “Unlucky—I’m busy tomorrow. I’m going to Shaoshi for some business.”

Hearing this, Zou Ai wisely didn’t ask what business. After more idle chatter, they each went home.

Before leaving, Zou Ai dumped the entire basket of fish and shrimp into Li Heng’s arms, even left the basket behind, then walked off singing a mountain song at the top of his lungs.

He’d always struck Li Heng as cheerful and slick-tongued, but not a bad guy. In his past life, Zou Ai remained well-liked among classmates until his final years.

Back home, Li Heng handed the fish and shrimp to Li Jianguo to handle. He then went to Yang Yingwen’s house, where he learned Yang’s father had passed away and was buried beneath the tea hill across the river.

Li Heng stood in the courtyard, gazing across the river. Sure enough, he spotted a fresh grave in a corner of the northern slope. The grave was isolated—no one at the crossroads could see it, but the village office in Shangwan Village could spot it from outside.

He asked Yang Yingwen’s mother: “Auntie, has Yingwen come back?”

Auntie sighed: “Old Four’s stubborn. He didn’t come back. Everyone’s talking about it behind his back.”

She pointed to the old house built during the Qing Dynasty: “His three sisters left to do side jobs. None are home. I’m terrified at night—always hear footsteps pacing inside, pots and pans clanging in the kitchen.”

“I can’t stay here. In a while, I’m going to Beijing with your parents. Yingwen says he found me a job there.”

Li Heng studied the old “ Hui ”-shaped courtyard carefully. According to Third Uncle, the wooden house was centuries old, its foundations rotted away. Over a hundred people had died there—old, young, infants stillborn. It was chilling.

He agreed: “That’s a good thing, Auntie. Stay there in peace. Maybe you’ll even settle permanently in Beijing.”

Hearing she might settle in Beijing, Auntie’s wrinkled face lit up: “Thank you for your kind words. If I can truly settle in a big place like Beijing, my whole life will have been worth it.”

The vast courtyard now held almost no one—just Auntie and a flock of chickens, ducks, and geese. Li Heng chatted with her awhile, then left. The air here felt colder than the street outside—deeply eerie.

All afternoon, Li Heng visited relatives with gifts, stopping by all the major branches of his clan. He also went to Wei Jia Duan and ate dinner at his aunt’s house.

June 30, 8:00 a.m.

Li Heng arrived punctually at the town post office, where Huang Zhaoyi was already waiting in her car.

Xiao Han and Wei Shiman were there too, but only to see him off.

Due to the crowd and his sensitive status in the small town, Li Heng avoided close contact with Xiao Han. They spoke for about ten minutes under the post office’s corridor, then parted.

Got in, closed the door, the car headed for Shaoshi.

Throughout the drive, they discussed Weihao Mei Company. Huang Zhaoyi told him: “This year’s revenue has already surpassed 57 million yuan. Twenty-eight seasoning products have gained good market reputation. We’re now launching aquatic seasonings—fish sauce, shrimp paste, oyster sauce, and so on…”

Li Heng listened carefully and asked: “So revenue will break a hundred million this year?”

Huang Zhaoyi said: “Breaking a hundred million is this year’s strategic target.”

Li Heng asked: “I saw Weihao Mei light and dark soy sauce in Shanghai department stores—when were they launched?”

Huang Zhaoyi said: “Late last year.”

Li Heng asked: “Are soy sauces popular?”

Huang Zhaoyi said: “Soy-based products are very popular in eastern coastal cities and the Pearl River Delta. Central and western regions prefer chili sauces.”

Li Heng remembered something and turned his head: “Chili sauce has been out over a year. What percentage of the 57 million does it contribute?”

Huang Zhaoyi recited: “Chili sauce accounts for nearly a quarter of the revenue.”

Li Heng was satisfied: “Chili sauce and soy sauces have huge market potential. Don’t hesitate to spend on ads. With little competition now, seize market share early.”

Huang Zhaoyi said: “In August, Weihao Mei chili sauce will air on CCTV—already signed the contract. It’ll run in prime time, right before the weather forecast.”

Li Heng’s eyes lit up: “That must’ve cost a lot.”

Huang Zhaoyi smiled: “Not too bad.”

Hearing her say that, Li Heng realized—this woman must’ve used connections.

As they talked about the company, the car slipped unnoticed into the city. When they passed Shaoshui Bridge, Li Heng told her to stop.

Huang Zhaoyi pulled over, rolled down her window, glanced around. The city’s development looked mediocre. But she wisely didn’t ask why he’d stopped here.

Before getting out, Li Heng thought a moment and said: “Buy me a house in Shaoshi. Safe, discreet. Try to get it close to Chengnan Park.”

Huang Zhaoyi noted it down: “Okay.”

Li Heng added: “For Changsha, I’ll just stay at your place for now. Get me a car—no need for big brands. Just reliable performance.”

Hearing he’d stay at her home, Huang Zhaoyi felt an unexpected warmth in her chest: “Okay.”

After giving his instructions, Li Heng checked his watch and said: “Come have dinner with me at the restaurant across the street. Then head back to Changsha.”

Huang Zhaoyi put on her sunglasses, got out, and walked beside him toward the small eatery.

It was called a restaurant, but it was really a greasy spoon—tables and chairs old, but surprisingly clean.

They sat down and ordered four dishes.