Chapter 325: Second Day Homecoming

The aftershocks of the uproarious, full‑flavored "latrine explosion case" on the first day of the New Year had not yet faded; the courtyard still smelled strongly of New Year festivities, yet time had quietly and stubbornly turned to the second day of the New Year. According to old Beijing, and indeed the whole North's custom, this day is "welcoming‑son‑in‑law day," when a married woman returns to her natal home with husband and children.

Early that morning, the courtyard's atmosphere already differed from yesterday's. The noisy rush of children was gone, replaced by the bustle of tidying, dressing, and preparing gifts; the air was filled with a complex mix of anticipation, joy, and a hint of hometown‑shyness.

In the western wing, Lin Xueqing stood before a mirror, carefully combing her daughter Nuanqing's soft hair and tying a red headband. Seeing her daughter's strikingly similar eyebrows and eyes, her hand paused slightly, and a barely perceptible hint of melancholy flashed across her eyes.

Returning to one's natal home… a phrase that brings warm anticipation to most married women, for her it meant only emptiness. Her parents had long since perished in war and the tides of the era; her natal family no longer had any close relatives. This western wing of the courtyard was now her entire home.

Li Ping'an saw his wife's sudden slump, walked over, gently slipped an arm around her shoulders, and said warmly, "Li Pingle will bring the children over in a moment; we'll have a reunion lunch together at noon. This is your home, and I and the children will always be your family."

Lin Xueqing lifted her head, met her husband's steady, reliable gaze, felt a warmth in her heart, and the lingering melancholy vanished, turning into a gentle smile at her lips: "Hmm, I understand."

Sure enough, in less than a half hour, Li Pingle and Chen Jianghe arrived with their pair of dragon‑phoenix twins. Chen Jianghe carried two packets of pastries, Li Pingle cradled the younger and held the older's hand; before anyone stepped into the courtyard, crisp laughter already echoed in.

"Brother! Sister‑in‑law! We're back!"

The western wing instantly became lively. The two sisters held hands, chatting about themselves; Li Ping'an and Chen Jianghe sipped tea, discussing matters of the factory; the children quickly gathered to play, babbling in childish chatter, full of vigor. Though Lin Xueqing had no natal home to return to, her younger sister's family's arrival filled the void, making the western wing brim with a warm, reunion atmosphere.

In the central courtyard, the Sha Zhu family was also bustling. He Yushui wore a brand‑new red‑checkered coat and returned with her police‑subordinate husband Zhang Weiguo. Zhang Weiguo wasn't in his police uniform today; he wore a blue Zhongshan suit, looking especially spry and neat. He carried a strip of pork belly with lean and fatty parts and two decent bottles of liquor, showing thoughtful courtesy.

"Brother! Sister‑in‑law! We're back!" He Yushui's face radiated the happy glow of a newlywed bride.

"Hey! Yushui's back! Come inside quickly! Weiguo's also here, please come in!" Ma Dongmei greeted warmly, took the gifts, her face blooming with a smile. Sha Zhu was even more delighted, slapping Zhang Weiguo's shoulder hard: "Alright! Kid, that's something! This meat looks truly authentic! We'll see you show off at noon!"

Sha Zhu may be simple‑minded, but he genuinely dotes on his younger sister; seeing her married well and her husband sensible makes his heart sweeter than honey. This homecoming meal was destined to be a joyous feast for both host and guests, filled with the ordinary family's contentment and happiness.

The Jia family remained the same as always. Qin Huairu wanted to visit her natal home, but Jia Zhangshi had already scolded her early on: "What are you going back for? The house is a mess! What can your natal family give you? Better stay home and look after your mother‑in‑law and children!" Qin Huairu could only sigh, watching other daughters return triumphantly, feeling a mix of emotions. Bang Geng, meanwhile, lingered on the thrill of yesterday's unnoticed mishap and wondered if today he could find a chance to set off more firecrackers; he cared little about any homecoming.

In the rear courtyard, Liu Haizhong's household remained quiet. Er Da Ma watched the bustling neighbors, then thought of her own eldest son who had vanished without a trace; her heart felt like a lump of cotton, and she lost the desire even to cook.

Yet, also a homecoming, the front courtyard Yan family presented a completely different scene.

Yu Xiulian rose before dawn, her heart feeling like a rabbit in a cage, nervous and uneasy. Her mother had long been ill, having caught a cold before the New Year and coughing badly; as a daughter she was deeply concerned. Her older brother was not young, yet his marriage prospects were still unsettled, adding to her worries. She had agreed to marry Yan Jiesheng; the Yan family's modest dowry was largely intended to fund her mother's treatment and support the household.

She carefully took out a small bundle she had prepared long ago—a half‑jin of self‑saved Suozi cake and two towels washed white but neatly folded. She knew the gift was modest, yet… she glanced at the main hall where her father‑in‑law Yan Bugu wore broken‑leg glasses, holding a small scale, meticulously weighing the gifts he intended his son to bring to his wife's natal home—five jin of Bangzi noodles, a small packet of dark red sugar, and a few wilted apples.

Yan Bugu, while weighing, muttered, "Jiesheng, it's not that dad is stingy; these days no family is affluent. This Bangzi noodles are fine grain, red sugar is pricey! These apples… despite their poor appearance, they're sweet! Our family hasn't taken advantage of the old Yu family!"

Yu Xiulian listened, feeling as if pricked by needles—both sour and astringent. She dared not speak further, silently placing her modest bundle together with the gifts her father‑in‑law 'generously' offered.

Yan Jiesheng stood nearby, a faint smile on his face; he understood his father's stinginess all too well, yet he had no say in the matter.

Finally, after Yu Xiulian's anxious waiting, Yan Bugu finally 'approved' the gifts, waving his hand: "Go, go, come back early; there's still work at home!"

Yu Xiulian felt as if granted a pardon, hurriedly with Yan Jiesheng, carrying the shabby, almost unpresentable gifts, left the courtyard and headed toward her natal home.

Along the way, she kept her head down, barely daring to look at passersby, feeling a burning heat on her face. Seeing other daughters returning with boxes of pastries and bright fabrics, compared to the sack of items in her hands, she felt a surge of grievance, tears welling up.

She recalled how she had agreed to marry into the Yan family to fetch medicine for her mother, thinking she could lean on a big tree, only to find… life here was even more calculated and stifling than back at her natal home. Yan Jiesheng treated her decently, but with such a father‑in‑law, when would her days in this household ever end?

Returning to the dilapidated little house of her natal home, even more shabby than the Yan household, she saw her mother lying sick in bed, face sallow, and beside her, a brother with furrowed brows, unable to find a wife because of poverty; Yu Xiulian's tears finally spilled over.

"Mother… I'm back…" she choked, placing the battered gifts on the table, hardly daring to meet her mother's or brother's eyes.

Her mother, looking at the items her daughter brought and then at her daughter's forced smile that barely hid her fatigue, saw clearly in her heart; she grasped her daughter's hand, sighed: "Xiulian, at your husband's family… you've suffered… it's because I'm useless, I've become a burden…"

"Mother, please don't say that…" Yu Xiulian sobbed, unable to speak.

This second day of the New Year, for Yu Xiulian, held no joy, only a heavy burden, unspeakable grievance, and deep uncertainty about the future. The shabby homecoming gift felt like a cold stone pressing on her heart, reflecting the Yan family's calculated coldness toward humanity.

Within the courtyard, the western and central wings exuded the aromas of reunion meals and laughter; yet in the front‑courtyard Yan family, although people returned, what came and went carried an inescapable sour scent of poverty and calculation. This mortal fireworks, also a second‑day homecoming, brought joy to some families and sorrow to others.