Chapter 412: Divorce, Who Won

Lu Beitang just put his bicycle into the Car Shed when Yang Yin cheerfully stepped forward to greet, "Uncle Lu."

Lu Beitang turned around, stared at Yang Yin from head to toe, and said, "You—whose child are you?"

"Uncle Lu, I'm Xiao Yang, a classmate of Lu Cheng, I came to your house last time."

Lu Beitang remembered, but no matter what he could not link the lively girl from last time with the "woman" before him.

Calling her a woman is not an exaggeration; with her hair curled, Yang Yin now looks much more mature, more like a twenty‑seven‑ or twenty‑eight‑year‑old.

Lu Beitang has always harbored a repulsive, dismissive attitude toward women with curled hair.

His initial goodwill toward Yang Yin dropped sharply at that moment.

The child lacks any childlike bearing, the student lacks any student bearing—it's sheer nonsense; how do the parents even manage this?

If his own daughter Lu Ying dared to style her hair like that, he'd have to beat her with a broom, but Yang Yin has nothing to do with him.

"Ah, here you are," Lu Beitang replied casually, then, intending to ignore them and go back inside, he stopped involuntarily when he reached another woman.

He glanced sideways, feeling both unfamiliar and familiar.

Chen Xianglan, with both hands behind her, adjusted her curled hair and said, "What are you looking at, don't you recognize me?"

Lu Beitang truly didn't recognize her, but he certainly recognized the voice, and his face immediately fell.

"You! Who told you to curl your hair, did you get my permission?"

Before Chen Xianglan could speak, Yang Yin stepped forward to explain, "Uncle Lu, I think…"

Lu Cheng lunged forward in a single stride and clamped his hand over Yang Yin's mouth.

"Auntie, please don't think that."

"Alright, alright, you hurry away, don't pour oil on the fire."

"Wuwu, I'm not pouring oil on the fire; I'm just trying to explain something to Auntie…"

"Don't bother explaining; you're about to get splattered with blood!" Lu Cheng, dragging and pulling, hauled Yang Yin out of the courtyard.

Meanwhile, both sides in the courtyard had already entered close‑quarters combat.

First, the women's side, represented by Chen Xianglan, voiced the concerns of all contemporary female groups.

"On what grounds do I need your consent? Curled hair is my freedom, our right to pursue beauty; no one has the authority to stop us."

Then the men's side, Lu Beitang, represented the steadfast proletariat.

"Your damn rights—look at how you look now, like a gorilla in the zoo. You have no motherly bearing, you're utterly indecent!"

Chen Xianglan instantly flared up: "Who are you calling a gorilla! Who are you calling indecent! Ah, your mouth is full of shit, you think I look like a gorilla? Everyone says I look good; on what basis do you say I'm ugly? Do you even understand aesthetics?"

"People say I look good? That's just the neighbors being shy to be blunt, praising you. Come on, look in the mirror, see how ugly you are, and hurry up and fix me back…"

"On what grounds should I fix it back? I spent money and effort to get it done…"

"If you don't fix it, then divorce; I'll let you pursue your freedom completely."

"What? Divorce? Ha, Lu Beitang, I the hell have been with you for decades, raising three kids through shit and urine, have you ever lent a hand?"

"Now you've boiled me down to an old hag, and you want a divorce? Fine then, Lu Beitang! Divorce—if anyone doesn't divorce, who will be the grandson!"

…

Outside, Yang Yin heard the courtyard argument, momentarily forgot to struggle, and let Lu Cheng keep her mouth covered.

"Did you hear? Now you understand the seriousness of the problem, right? If you keep fanning the flames, the two could end up fighting!"

"Wuw…" Yang Yin pulled Lu Cheng's hand away: "How can it be this serious, Auntie and Uncle are divorcing, I have to go in and persuade them."

"Hey, hey, hey." Lu Cheng hurriedly grabbed her: "Alright, alright, it doesn't concern you; they're just momentarily angry, saying hot words."

At such an advanced age, actually divorcing would just make them a laughingstock.

The two are always bickering, so Lu Cheng is no longer surprised.

Yang Yin pursed her lips: "Is that really just hot talk? If they actually divorce, wouldn't it be my fault, making you a single‑parent family?"

Lu Cheng sighed; he couldn't blame Yang Yin—at least after curling her hair, she followed her mother's wishes.

"You say you went with my mom to curl hair, that's one thing; why did you also curl yours? When you get home, your mom won't scold you?"

Yang Yin let out two foolish laughs: "I actually didn't intend to curl; Auntie was hesitant at the barber shop, fearing it might look bad, so I gave her a sample first. After seeing my curled hair, she thought it was very pretty, and that eased her concerns."

Lu Cheng was speechless; what more could he blame Yang Yin for?

Clearly Yang Yin wasn't suited for curls, yet she volunteered herself as a test subject to ease her mother's worries.

Yang Yin twirled her hair: "How is it, does it look good? Auntie paid for it, and she's been so kind to me."

"Looks good? Hell no, hurry and fix it back."

A university student of eighteen or nineteen somehow turned into a little housewife.

Lu Cheng finally understood why parents always disapprove of their children's attire; after living several decades, he too finds Yang Yin's curled‑hair style hard to accept.

Of course he's not merely disgusted; he just thinks about suitability. Given today's technological limits, the curls turn out like instant noodles, clearly unsuitable for Yang Yin.

"You're just like your dad, old fossil; I think it's fine." Yang Yin muttered while twirling her hair.

"Alright, alright, if you think it's fine then it's fine; hurry home."

The courtyard shouting continued, on the brink of a physical fight; after ushering Yang Yin away, Lu Cheng hurried back to mediate.

"Divorce! What's wrong with my right to pursue freedom? We'll leave tomorrow; nobody stop us."

"Divorce! Someone who betrayed the revolution like you, trying to become bourgeois, our old Lu family is pure working‑class blood; we will never accept a woman like you."

"Oh, fine, fine, at this age bringing up divorce just makes us a laughingstock." Pang Ya, while mediating, also shouted at Wu Guiwen.

"Teacher Wu, quickly grab Uncle Beitang, where's Lu San'er? Ying Ying, come out quickly, oh my god, it's just curling hair, why all this noisy fire‑stoking? Lu San'er, hurry over…"

"Dad, dad!" Lu Cheng rushed over, grabbing his father: "Don't argue with Mom; she's just momentarily curious. Wait a while, she'll fix it herself."

The restrained Chen Xianglan kept shouting, "I'm not curious; I just like it. I can't fix it back; I'm so angry…"

"Mom, Mom, say a few fewer words; let me talk to Dad, that way, say a few fewer words, calm down…"

"No need to mediate; no one's words will work today, I'm divorcing him."

"Alright, this is the divorce you said you wanted!" Lu Beitang pointed at Chen Xianglan, then flicked his sleeve and left.

"Hey Dad, Dad, are you going to a restaurant? Take me with you."

"What restaurant am I going to? If we don't get divorced for a day, she'll have to cook for me all day."

"I'll make you a lousy meal; even if you starve to death it wouldn't be any extra."

Lu Beitang, fuming, was too lazy to argue further and walked straight out of the courtyard. Lu Cheng didn't know where his father was going.

"Hey sis, you think our dad won't go back to eating alone, right?"

Lu Ying glared, "I'll kick you to death; it's already… you still think about eating? Hurry and coax Mom."

Mom didn't need coaxing; she wasn't affected at all. Since her hair had already been curled, her wish was fulfilled, and watching Dad fume made her even happier.

But when Dad wandered back that night, Mom saw his whole outfit and couldn't be happy at all.