Chapter 13: Lin Heling

Lin’s mother smiled and said, “No beating, no making a person.”

After his head was shaved, Erzai was eating heartily, nodding along as if strongly agreeing with his grandmother’s words.

Lin Zhao picked up a dumpling for him, then another for Daizai, and laughed, “Why are you nodding? You want me to beat you both too?”

*Plop!*

The dumpling on Erzai’s chopsticks fell into his bowl; the child’s face twisted in fright. “Mom hits people too?”

Daizai also looked nervous, his thin face scrunched up.

When Mom hits him, can she please avoid Erzai? He didn’t want to be embarrassed.

Lin Zhao wanted to laugh herself sick but feigned seriousness. “If you two behave, you won’t get beaten. But if you’re stubborn, remember this—wait until your father comes home, and let him beat you. Gu Chenghuai’s got muscles everywhere, full of strength—he hits the hardest.”

Daizai and Erzai’s faces went pale: “!!!”

In just a few breaths, the white-flour dumplings lost their flavor.

“Pfft…” Lin Shi sheng couldn’t help laughing. “Zhaozhao, look how scared you’ve made the little ones—you’re scaring your own kids. Are you even their real mother?”

“Of course I am. The real, real mother.” Lin Zhao couldn’t help smiling either.

Lin’s mother glared at the two silly siblings and comforted her grandsons. “Your mother’s just teasing you. Your father is a great hero who defends the country—he only beats bad people, never children. Eat up.”

Erzai relaxed and gobbled his dumplings, trying to save face. “I know Mom’s just joking. She says we’re her precious eggs—if Dad beats us, she’ll protect us. She’d never let us get hurt.”

“Erzai is so smart,” Lin’s mother thought her grandson was brilliant. “Daizai is smart too.”

Lin Zhao had made many dumplings; Lin Shi sheng ate so much fine grain he was stuffed—he’d never felt this satisfied in his life.

Sipping the dumpling broth, he sighed with complex emotion: “Zhaozhao, your cooking’s gotten better and better. Your brother-in-law is lucky to have married you.”

Lin Zhao’s eyes flickered; she casually asked, “Have your wife and you been fighting again?”

Not wanting to talk about his miserable wife, Lin Shi sheng changed the subject. “Has your brother-in-law said when he’ll have time to come home on leave?”

“No.” Lin Zhao thought of the letter she’d sent—her child’s father would be receiving it soon.

She looked forward to his reply.

Lin’s mother understood how hard her son-in-law’s job was and comforted her daughter: “Chenghuai’s job is dangerous and exhausting. Send him more letters when you can.”

“Mm-hmm.” Lin Zhao nodded.

Lin’s mother knew her daughter well—though she was spoiled and couldn’t endure hardship, she never lied. If she promised something, she meant it.

This visit, Zhaozhao had changed a lot.

Lin’s mother wiped her daughter’s face with the cloth sling tied around Sizai’s neck, speaking as if casually: “Zhaozhao, you’ve finally grown up. Remember when you were in seventh grade and refused to stay at your uncle’s? You insisted on coming home, and your older brothers walked you to school every day…”

Lin Shi sheng looked at his mother, wanting to speak, but her glance silenced him.

“Mom’s mistaken,” Lin Zhao said, holding Sanzai and wiping his hands. “It wasn’t seventh grade—it was high school. And I only stayed home two days. It was too cold—I went back to my uncle’s.”

A warm smile spread across Lin’s mother’s eyes; the heavy weight in her chest settled back into place.

It was her daughter.

She must have woken up.

“You still remember? I thought you’d forgotten. Go visit your uncle when you have time.”

Lin Zhao didn’t know that her awakening had made her mother believe she’d been possessed by some evil spirit.

Thinking of her uncle, Lin Zhao felt deep guilt.

“Mom, is my uncle…?”

She didn’t finish the last two words—she truly was ungrateful. Her uncle had every right to blame her.

“Zhaozhao, don’t overthink it,” Lin Shi sheng comforted her. “Your uncle doesn’t blame you. He misses you, and he’s a little hurt. Go see him—it’ll all pass. He’s always been good to you: paid for your schooling, saved the best food for you, never once been angry with you.”

He quietly gathered the bowls and went to the kitchen to wash them.

Lin’s mother never coddled boys; Lin’s second brother and his siblings all did housework. Before Lin Zhao married, she’d washed dishes fewer than ten times.

“I’ll go see my uncle,” Lin Zhao said. Even if he scolded her, she’d accept it—she truly had no conscience.

“Good. Go check the vegetable garden—see if you like it. While your second brother’s here, make him do whatever you want.” Lin’s mother didn’t want her daughter upset and changed the subject.

Lin Zhao went to the backyard. The vegetable patch was fenced with bamboo slats reaching only to the calves; a wooden trellis leaned against the wall, perfect for growing string beans and loofahs. The small garden was neatly arranged in neat rows.

The garden cured Erzai’s OCD—he gasped: “Second Uncle is amazing! Mom, our garden’s just like Grandma’s!”

Lin Zhao was very satisfied.

Not long after eating, Lin’s mother and Lin Shi sheng prepared to leave.

Daizai and Erzai were heartbroken; their eyes shimmered with tears.

Lin Zhao patted their bald heads—the texture was prickly and uncomfortable, but at least it destroyed the lice’s breeding ground.

“I’ll take you to Grandma’s another day.”

Erzai’s face lit up instantly. “When? I miss Grandpa.”

“Me too. I miss his stories—I love listening to them,” Daizai said.

Lin Zhao smiled lightly. “Funny—I like them too.”

Her father’s origins were mysterious—he’d wandered here during the war, only about ten or eleven years old, his head injured, his memory scrambled. He didn’t remember where home was, only that his surname was Lin and his name was Lin Heling.

He could read and draw, knew countless stories, and was strikingly handsome. In the words of Lin Zhao’s grandmother, he stood like a nobleman from opera—beautiful in every way.

Lin Zhao prepared many good things: canned food, brown sugar, meat, and dried noodles, wanting her mother and Lin Shi sheng to take them home. Both refused.

Even when Lin Zhao got angry, they wouldn’t accept. Finally, she boiled a bowl of dumplings, packed them in a lunchbox, and told her mother to take them to her father.

“These are for my father. If you won’t take them, I’ll deliver them myself,” Lin Zhao said, clearly upset.

She was annoyed her mother was being distant.

These things were all won in lucky draws—she wanted to honor her parents, not the Gu family. Yet her mother insisted it was improper.

Lin Zhao specifically emphasized the dumplings were for her father—this time, her mother couldn’t refuse.

“Fine, I’ll take them. My daughter knows filial piety now—let your father be happy.”

Lin Zhao’s face remained serious. “Those things are for you and Dad too. Why won’t you take them?”

“You’re a mother of four children—how can you still be so childish? If I took them, what would people say? The whole village would point at your back and accuse you of secretly subsidizing your family from the Gu household. Your father always says gossip is dangerous. You don’t think of this? I won’t let you be harmed.” Lin’s mother spoke with deep concern.

“But… these things have nothing to do with the Gu family.”

She couldn’t say it outright.

Lin Zhao felt stifled.

No job, no financial independence—she couldn’t even honor her parents.

“I know you’re filial,” Lin’s mother smiled, patting her daughter’s hand. “Our family is poor, but we never lack food. Save those good things for Daizai and the others. As long as you take good care of the kids and let me worry less, I’m content.” She gave Daizai and Erzai a long list of instructions before leaving with Lin Shi sheng.

Everyone from Fengshou Team met them at the gate.

“Auntie Daizai’s grandma’s leaving already?”

“Why not stay longer?”

“Lin’s wife’s done visiting her daughter and’s heading home?”

…

No matter what they thought inside, the people of Fengshou Team kept their faces polite.

Lin’s mother, who responded to kindness but not force, smiled and chatted warmly. “Yes, we’re leaving—there’s still work at home.”

After a few more words, the two Lin family members departed.

Villagers at the village entrance kept talking.

“Gu Chenghuai’s wife is so lucky—her family still cares for her even after she married out. I saw her mother and brother bring her a basket of eggs and a fat fish. The Lin family really dotes on their daughter.”

"Yeah, in the surrounding villages, you won't find another family as devoted to their daughter. If the Lin family hadn't spoiled her, Gu Chenghuai's wife wouldn't be this lazy."

“They even sent fish—that’s meat! The Lin family really spoils her.”

“I heard when Auntie Daizai heard her daughter hit her head, she rushed over in a panic. The Lin family is so protective—did Gu Xing’er get beaten?”

A group of women chattered like weasels in a melon patch.

Someone who knew the inside story glanced around, saw no one approaching, and lowered her voice: “Of course she got beaten—she screamed bloody murder. It was Daizai’s second uncle who did it.”

One woman shifted to a more comfortable position, eyes gleaming. “Didn’t the Gu family stop him?”

“Why would they? If it were you, you wouldn’t stop him either,” said the well-informed woman.

This instantly hooked everyone.

“Tell us more…”

Surrounded by dozens of staring eyes, the woman was thrilled. She launched into the gossip she’d dug up, speaking with fiery passion, spittle flying.

After hearing it, someone said, “I didn’t hear Gu Grandma went to the Gu third household to demand justice.”

“Auntie Daizai’s grandma’s a village bully—they say she’s killed before. No one who crossed her ever came out unscathed. Gu Xing’er’s grandmother’s old—she wouldn’t dare go near her. She wants to live a few more years,” another woman guessed.

Little did she know, she’d guessed Gu Grandma’s thoughts almost perfectly.

“Xing’er’s strange—she never fights with Tie Dan’s mom or Bang Bang’s mom, only with Daizai’s mom. What’s this? People say ‘meet and hate’—they just can’t stand each other?” The auntie muttered, sewing a hole in her pants.

Among them were plenty of sharp minds.

A woman in a blue blouse smiled. “Gu Chenghuai’s allowance keeps rising each year. Since he married, he gives back less money—Xing’er gets fewer benefits. How could she not resent it?”

“Tsk! But Gu Chenghuai couldn’t stay unmarried forever—he had to marry. Xing’er’s just too domineering.”

They were all sharp enough to understand Xing’er’s motives at a glance.

Without Xing’er knowing, her reputation had been damaged by her repeated outbursts.

The effects weren’t obvious yet—but when she got older, she’d have plenty to cry about.

The Gu third household.

Lin Zhao finished sewing two outfits and called out to the boys in the yard: “Daizai, Erzai, come try on your new clothes.”

The two children ran in, pattering their feet.

Looking at the two identical short shirts and black pants, she grinned broadly.

“Thank you, Mama,” Da Cai said, his voice light and his eyes bright.

Er Cai’s mouth stretched so wide it seemed to reach the back of his head; he immediately stripped off his clothes and was ready to try them on.

Seeing this, Da Cai quickly undressed too.

Both parents were strikingly good-looking, and none of the Gu children were ugly; Da Cai and Er Cai ran up mountains and down rivers every day, their skin darkened by the sun, yet even from their brows and eyes, it was clear they weren’t bad-looking at all.

Clean, sharp features, a straight, high nose just like their father’s, lips neither too thick nor too thin—perfectly proportioned—and even their head shapes were far more attractive than those of the other village children.

Even if shaved bald, they were still clearly handsome.

They were just a bit too dark.

Their usual ragged clothes hid it well, but now, in their new outfits, they looked like two completely different children.

Da Cai smoothed the hem of his shirt, looked up at Lin Zhao, his eyes sparkling with quiet hope. “Mama?”

Lin Zhao met his clear, bright eyes, pulled his hand closer, and examined him from head to toe, smiling as she nodded. “Beautiful. Especially beautiful. Just as handsome as your father.”

Under her praise, Da Cai’s face grew redder; he was shy, but his heart bubbled with joy.

Er Cai, a child who couldn’t stay still for a second, hurried over too.

“Mama, what about me?” he blinked his big eyes, boldly demanding praise.

“You’re beautiful too,” Lin Zhao laughed at his little expression.

Er Cai: “...” That’s it?

He pressed urgently: “Am I as handsome as Dad too?”

Da Cai thought his brother was dumb. “Er Cai, you look just like me. I look just like Dad, so you must look just like Dad too.”

Er Cai chuckled. “I forgot.”

“Mama, can my brother and I go out now?” he asked.

Lin Zhao glanced at Er Cai, seeing right through him. “You want to go show off, don’t you?”

“Maaaama~” Er Cai whined, his voice wavering with sweet pleading.

“Not yet. The clothes need to be washed first,” Lin Zhao explained gently. “Take them off. I’ll wash them for you soon. It’s hot, so they’ll dry by tomorrow morning—you can show off then.”

Da Cai knew how hard his mother worked making their clothes. As he took off his shirt, he said, “Mama, we’ll wash them ourselves, right, Er Cai?”

What could Er Cai say? Of course he agreed.

“Yes, we’ll wash them ourselves.”

Lin Zhao stood up, stretched her stiff body, and said, “Fine. I’ll watch you wash. Da Cai, get the soap. You know which one?”

“I know.” Da Cai went inside to fetch the soap.

It wasn’t as hot now, and daylight still lingered; Lin Zhao took the children to the riverbank.

The riverside was cool and crowded: some women washed clothes, mischievous boys rolled up their pant legs to catch fish, others chatted while enjoying the breeze…

Yuan Bao’s mother was also washing clothes. She was surprised to see Lin Zhao and greeted her warmly. “Mrs. Chenghuai, you’re here too?”

Lin Zhao smiled. “Just came out for a walk.”

Da Cai and Er Cai found a slanted stone slab, crouched side by side, soaked their shirts, rubbed on soap, scrubbed and kneaded—movements practiced, clearly not their first time washing.

“Da Cai, Er Cai, use more soap,” Lin Zhao said, holding back San Cai and Si Cai, who were trying to splash in the water.

Yuan Bao’s mother and the other women washing clothes stared in disbelief.

“Mrs. Da Cai, you don’t even wash your children’s clothes?” an elderly aunt said disapprovingly.

Before Lin Zhao could speak, Da Cai said solemnly, “My brother and I can wash our own clothes. Mama works hard making them.”

“...?” Making clothes isn’t hard!

“Is making clothes harder than earning work points?” Chang Sheng’s wife couldn’t help herself, speaking right to Lin Zhao’s face. “Your mama’s just lazy.”