Chapter 19: “Leaching Off Parents

At this end, Gu Chenghuai transferred the money to his comrade and sent a telegram home.

Lin Zhao had no idea that her random outburst had landed her a comfortable, respectable job.

At mealtime, all the Lin children returned home.

They washed their hands; the table was already piled high with dishes: spicy rabbit meat, braised pork, tomato scrambled eggs, mushroom soup, and even the rice was thicker than usual.

A group of little gluttons’ eyes lit up, and they let out muffled shrieks.

“Meat—”

Lin Zhao extended her index finger to her lips, her voice tinged with amusement: “Shh—! Eating meat must be done discreetly!”

Da Zai and Er Zai immediately clapped their hands over their mouths, their identical eyes crinkling with delight.

The family sat down and began eating; Lin Zhao’s first chopstick went straight for the spicy rabbit meat—her mother had gone all out with the seasonings, and one bite was wonderfully numbing and fiery.

“Delicious!” she smiled, eyes crinkling—she hadn’t tasted this in ages.

Er Zai reached for the spicy meat, but his mother snatched his chopsticks away. “Kids can’t eat too much spice—you and your brother stick to the mild dishes. Do you want to get heaty?”

“Big Dan and Second Dan eat it too,” Er Zai said, his clear eyes fixed on his mother, his expression pouting.

“How old are Big Dan and Second Dan? How old are you?” Lin Zhao countered, her mouth still busy sucking on the spicy rabbit meat, her eyes gleaming with pleasure.

Er Zai pouted.

“Er Zai, the mild dishes are delicious too,” Da Zai said obediently—he knew his mother kept them from spicy food for their own good, and he helped her persuade his brother.

Er Zai, who always listened to his older brother, stopped pouting.

Lin Heling watched this scene, a smile in her eyes.

Lin’s mother, seeing her daughter “bullying” her two grandsons, shot Lin Zhao a glance without a trace of anger. “How old are you now? Why are you still picking on your own children?”

She placed a piece of spicy rabbit meat on each of Da Zai and Er Zai’s plates. “You’re still young—you can taste it, but don’t eat much.”

Da Zai’s face lit up. “Thank you, Grandma.”

“Thank you, Grandma—your cooking is the best!” Er Zai chimed in, gushing.

Lin Zhao raised an eyebrow, glancing at him coolly—this morning he’d said her cooking was the best too. Such a little kid, already mastering the art of balance. No wonder he’d grow up to run a business nationwide.

The Lin household had no rigid rules; everyone ate while chatting, the atmosphere lively.

Qiu Lian said nothing, kept her head down and ate furiously—each extra bite she took meant her sister-in-law and the two little rascals got less. Worth it.

Lin Shisheng frowned, but didn’t want to ruin the family’s appetite, so he held his tongue.

Lin Xuan watched her mother’s mouth bulging, even more than Er Zai, her face flushed, and cast an apologetic glance at Lin Zhao.

Lin Zhao smiled at her; the girl’s expression slowly relaxed.

Such a soft nature—she’d get taken advantage of.

After dinner, Lin Zhao and her three children were driven home by Lin Shisheng.

On the way.

Lin Zhao wiped the sweat from her forehead with a handkerchief and asked Lin Shisheng: “Second brother, has Third brother written? When will he come home next? I miss him!”

The Lin brothers’ names were drawn from the characters for prosperity and flourishing: Lin Shichang, Lin Shisheng, Lin Shifan; the stolen twin brother was named Lin Shirong.

“His last letter was three months ago. Third brother’s far away; a trip home takes over half a month. He says he’s often on missions—he won’t be back this year,” Lin Shisheng said.

He understood his third brother—once you give yourself to the state, you’re no longer your own.

Lin Zhao knew too—her own child’s father was a soldier, and he, too, had countless helpless moments.

“Alright.”

She changed the subject. “Has Third brother met any close female comrades?”

Lin Shisheng chuckled. “You’re just curious when Third brother will get married, aren’t you?”

“A little curious,” Lin Zhao smiled. “I see Mama’s very concerned.”

“Mama just says it offhand—if she truly wanted to find Third brother a wife, could he escape?” Lin Shisheng didn’t believe it.

Their mother ruled the household; once she spoke, only their father and Zhao Zhao had any say—the rest of the brothers had no room to resist.

Lin Zhao said: “Mama pities Third brother.” It was because Fourth brother had been stolen—her mother had poured the love meant for him into Third brother too.

Da Zai and Er Zai had rarely seen their Third Uncle; they only knew he was like their father—a heroic PLA soldier.

Just that alone made them adore him deeply.

“Mama, can you ask Dad to get me and my brother a green hat?” Er Zai suddenly asked, his little black face utterly innocent.

Da Zai’s expression shifted slightly, also watching his mother expectantly.

Lin Shisheng couldn’t help it: “Pfft—”

Lin Zhao’s gaze swept over her second brother’s head, her expression peculiar.

Stop laughing—Er Zai was just speaking casually, but you’re actually wearing a real green hat.

Lin Shisheng rubbed his itchy nose and looked at Er Zai. “Er Zai, you can’t just ask for green hats like that.”

Er Zai blinked, confused.

“Is asking for a green hat against discipline?”

He’d heard “against discipline” from Gu Fu.

Lin Shisheng had no reply.

“No,” he said.

Er Zai’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “Then why can’t I ask for one?”

He stared at his second uncle, his little face wrinkling with disappointment. “My dad has so many green hats—I want one.”

Lin Zhao nearly tripped over her own feet and fell flat on the ground.

“...” You really deserve a beating, Er Zai.

“Those are military caps!” she corrected sternly.

It wasn’t strange for a child to refer to things by color—but if villagers heard this, the gossip would explode!

“They’re military caps—you must say ‘military cap’ from now on, understood?” Lin Zhao emphasized.

Er Zai didn’t understand why, but nodded obediently. “Mm-hmm, they’re military caps.”

“Good,” Lin Zhao’s eyes softened with a faint smile. “If you two keep being good, after the New Year, I’ll give each of you a little military cap.”

At this, Da Zai and Er Zai’s eyes flashed bright, their mouths curling into delighted grins.

“Thank you, Mama!”

The two boys pressed their heads together, whispering quietly, occasionally bursting into clear laughter.

Lin Shisheng, seeing how obedient Da Zai and Er Zai were to Zhao Zhao, felt a warm, clear affection—children who understood things made life easier for his sister.

Lin Shisheng dropped his sister and the two boys off at the entrance of Fengshou Village, then prepared to leave without entering.

Seeing his sister’s unhappiness, the young man explained gently: “I have things to attend to at home—I’ll come back to see you once this busy period is over.”

Lin Zhao didn’t press him, and took the two boys home.

Just as they reached the gate, Lin Zhao pulled out her key and was about to speak, when Er Zai tilted his head up and pleaded: “Mama, can my brother and I go play for a bit?”

“Drink some water first,” Lin Zhao said, remembering the children hadn’t drunk anything on the way and the air was dry—she feared they’d get heaty.

“Okay,” Da Zai replied.

Back home, the two boys dashed into the kitchen, where cool boiled water stood; they gulped it down in big swallows, then wiped their mouths.

Er Zai looked up at Lin Zhao. “Drank it, Mama—can we go play now?”

“Play” meant they wanted to go show off.

“Go,” Lin Zhao said, sipping water herself, waving them off.

Da Zai was dragged off by his brother; as they left, he called back: “Mama, I’ll come back later and help you light the stove.”

“No rush,” Lin Zhao replied.

After the boys left, she returned to her room and opened the things her father had forcibly shoved into her hands.

Her father had been mysteriously secretive, telling her to wait until no one was around to look.

The item had been carried by Lin Shisheng all along; only when Lin Zhao took it did she realize how heavy it was—inside seemed to be a square box, wrapped in black cloth, casually stuffed into a net bag.

Lin Zhao opened the net bag and untied the black cloth.

As she expected, inside was a wooden box—but not an ordinary one. It was a gilded enamel box inlaid with pomegranate stones.

Lin Zhao held the jewelry box carefully, admiring it—exquisitely crafted, the lid carved with intricate patterns, breathtakingly beautiful.

How did her father come to have something like this?

She was filled with questions.

She opened the jewelry box—the contents nearly blinded her.

Five gold bars, a green jade necklace, a bright red bangle, two translucent jade bracelets, a pair of emerald earrings, a pair of pure gold floral-pattern earrings, and a pair of gold rings engraved with dragons playing with pearls.

No wonder it was so heavy—it was all precious stuff.

It could buy a Sihe Academy! That was the first thought that flashed through Lin Zhao’s mind.

She never expected that after marrying and having children, she’d still get to “leech off her parents.”

Lin Zhao was overjoyed—having doting parents was wonderful.

Hehe.

In this life, she would definitely honor her parents well.

She rewrapped the jewelry box, hid it at the very bottom of the cabinet, and locked it with a heavy padlock—then went to the old house to pick up the Long Fengtai.

The Long Fengtai saw their mother and froze, their identical pale little faces startled—then both burst into loud wails.

They wobbled toward Lin Zhao.

Crying, they whimpered: “Mama—”

When her sister started crying, San Zai let out a loud wail too, screaming at the top of his lungs.

Lin Zhao was stunned by the siblings’ crying.

In the past, when she went to the county town, even if she was gone all day, the Long Fengtai never cried—but today, only half a day had passed, and both little dumplings had blown snot bubbles.

“Why are you crying?” Lin Zhao hurried to soothe the babies.

Just as Si Zai was about to hug her, his small body twisted, climbed onto the doorframe, turned his back to Lin Zhao, tilted his little head up, and cried while pouting: “Mama, don’t take, Zai, wu wu wu wu—”

So tiny, so adorable, so pitiful.

San Zai sat beside his sister, wailing along with her—loud cries without a single tear, even sneaking glances at Lin Zhao out of the corner of his eye, sharp as a fox, utterly unlike a one-year-old child.

The little siblings’ voices were especially loud; the Gu family heard and came streaming out.

Lin Zhao was deeply embarrassed.

She cleared her throat, squatted before the Long Fengtai, and tried to soothe them with a Big White Rabbit candy.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry, next time I’ll take you.”

Though young, the Long Fengtai weren’t easily fooled.

Si Zai’s crying halted; his eyes, washed clean by tears, were serious, his cute little face stern as he firmly spat out one word: “Take!”

He meant she must take him.

Lin Zhao quickly said: “Take, take, take!”

Si Zai burst into happy tears, snatched the candy from her hand, and clumsily fumbled with the wrapper; San Zai leaned over to help.

Watching the children, Lin Zhao asked Huang Xiulan: “What’s wrong with the little siblings today?”

Huang Xiulan’s face flushed with unease; she chose her words carefully, slightly embarrassed: “It was all Tie Dan making jokes—he said you took Da Zai and Er Zai back to your parents’ home and left them behind. The little ones overheard, and I’m truly sorry—I’ve already scolded Tie Dan…”

As she spoke, she spotted Tie Dan using his younger brother Tie Chui as a shield, slinking along the wall toward the house, sneaky as a thief.

Huang Xiulan’s head felt like it would explode; she let out a piercing shout: “Gu Tie Dan!”

Tie Dan instantly snapped to attention, clutching his buttocks, utterly guilty: “...Mama.”

Huang Xiulan strode over, grabbed his ear, and dragged him to Lin Zhao’s side. “What should you say to your Third Aunt?”

Tie Dan bowed his head and apologized: “Sorry, Third Aunt. I didn’t mean it—I was just teasing San Zai and Si Zai, didn’t expect to make them cry. I know I’m wrong.”

He was terrified and didn't dare look at Lin Zhao, because he knew how dangerous Third Aunt could be.

Even though Lin Zhao had seemed gentle these past few days, her past terrible temper had left the Gu children with unforgettable memories.

Lin Zhao didn’t hold it against him: “Knowing you’re wrong is enough. I’ll forgive you this time.”

Tie Dan’s tense body instantly relaxed; he grabbed Huang Xiulan’s hand still gripping his ear. “Mama, let go—I’m not in trouble, Third Aunt doesn’t blame me…”

Huang Xiulan was about to release him when she spotted the huge hole in his pants—and her anger flared again.

“Gu Tie Dan, you’ve torn your pants again!!” She raised her hand and slapped his buttocks—whap, whap, whap. It didn’t hurt much for a little rascal, but it was humiliating, especially in front of his brother—he was utterly shamed!

“Mama, stop! If you’re going to hit me, do it inside—don’t hit me here!” Tie Dan wailed, covering his face.

Lin Zhao watched the seven-year-old boy so concerned with his dignity, she nearly died laughing.

So funny.

As she left with the Long Fengtai, she could still hear Second Sister-in-law scolding Tie Dan.

San Zai and Si Zai were now well-behaved, holding their mother’s hand, their little legs pumping fast—they’d clearly been frightened by Huang Xiulan’s loud voice.

Lin Zhao had just returned home with the Long Fengtai and was about to bathe the two children when a man’s voice called from outside.

“Lin Zhao? Is Lin Zhao home?”

Lin Zhao, puzzled, told the Long Fengtai to stay put, then hurried to the door.

Outside stood a young man; beside him was a bicycle, with green postal bags strapped to front and back, bulging with letters.

“I’m Lin Zhao.”

The deliveryman said: “You have a telegram.”

He handed her a sheet of paper and a receipt. “Sign here.”

“Alright.” Lin Zhao signed, then handed the receipt back.

The deliveryman glanced at the signature, confirmed it was correct, tucked the receipt into his bag, and rode off.

Lin Zhao looked down at the telegram—it was from a military district.

It read:

【Ming, 12, phone.】

It meant: Call tomorrow at 12 o’clock.

She didn’t mind the brevity—telegrams were charged by the character back then, and expensive.

Lin Zhao guessed it might be news about the bricks and tiles; her face lit up with joy. She went home and kissed each of the Long Fengtai on the cheek; the siblings giggled, leaned in to kiss her back, smearing her face with drool.

The mother didn’t mind at all; she laughed happily: “Zai, we’ll be moving into a new house soon—aren’t you happy?”

San Zai grinned, showing a few tiny milk teeth: “Happy.”

Si Zai clapped excitedly, speaking in a babyish lisp: “House, house, house…”

Lin Zhao was utterly charmed; she kissed her daughter’s cheek again—she’d kiss when she wanted to, and if the girl ever turned into a love-struck fool, she’d beat her then.

Da Zai and Er Zai walked in and saw their mother kissing her younger siblings.

The two children froze, then rushed to Lin Zhao, staring at her with wide, hopeful eyes.

“Mama, what are you doing?” Er Zai asked, his face smeared with dirt, eyes sparkling with expectation.

“Where did you two go? How did you get so dirty?” Lin Zhao asked instead, eyeing the two filthy little devils, feeling the exhaustion of raising wild children.

Er Zai wiped his face with the back of his hand and grinned: “Me and Brother went to make mud bombs!”

Mud bombs?

No wonder they smelled like urine.