Chapter 38: Bloodline Suppression

“Yun Cheng.” Lin Zhao’s eyes softened with a faint smile, the slanting afternoon sun casting a golden glow over her.

“Zhao Zhao-jie?” Song Yun Cheng exclaimed.

After speaking, he stepped aside to let Lin Zhao enter, then turned toward the house and called out loudly, “Mom, Zhao Zhao-jie’s here.”

Song Uncle’s family had two sons: Song Yun Cheng and Song Yun Jin, both younger than Lin Zhao, aged seventeen and fifteen respectively.

Hearing the call, Song Aunt hurried out, froze when she saw Lin Zhao, her eyes filled with complex emotion, and couldn’t help snapping, “I’m surprised you still remember which way the door faces.”

Her tone carried an unspoken resentment.

How could she not resent it?

She and Old Song had never wronged this niece—they ate what she ate, even occasionally boiled her an egg.

They gave her the best bed in the house.

When she was growing, Old Song arranged for her to get goat’s milk—even Yun Cheng and Yun Jin never got any.

Her uncle, exhausted from night shifts, still made time to pick her up and drop her off…

But what did she do?

After marrying, she never came back—how many years now??

How many years!!!

Old Song never said a word, but every night he’d toss and turn, unable to sleep.

After all, she’d been raised under their roof since childhood—almost like a daughter. A child gone for one or two years, unseen for three or four—how could their hearts not grow cold?

Lin Zhao shoved the packages into Yun Cheng’s arms, walked over to Song Aunt, and hugged her warmly.

“This is my home—how could I not know which way the door faces?”

The girl’s voice was sweet and soft, her whole presence fragrant; Song Aunt’s defensive prickles instantly melted, though her mouth still snapped, “Little liar.”

“You say this is your home, yet you haven’t set foot here in years—what? Now that you’re married, you don’t even recognize your uncle? You heartless little brat.”

Even as she spoke, she didn’t push Lin Zhao away.

Song Yun Cheng caught his mother’s expression and sighed inwardly—he’d been so harsh earlier.

…Fine, if she doesn’t come, I’ll kick her out when she does!

Go ahead and kick her out!

Sensing her son’s gaze, Song Aunt felt embarrassed, gently pushed Lin Zhao away. “You’re grown now—why do you still hugging people like this? Don’t you find it embarrassing?”

As she spoke, she rose to make Lin Zhao a cup of malted milk powder.

Song Yun Cheng rolled his eyes.

Noticing Zhao Zhao-jie’s gaze on him, he let out a loud huff, crossed his arms, and leaned against the cabinet, grumbling, “Mom’s so biased—who’s really her own child?”

Lin Zhao smiled at him. “I may not be blood, but Uncle and Auntie raised me well—and when the time comes, I’ll help care for them too.”

The boy rolled his eyes again, voice tinged with resentment. “My brother Yun Jin and I will take care of our parents. You? If you care, just visit more often—they miss you.”

“I’ll come often,” Lin Zhao replied gently.

Song Yun Cheng thought Zhao Zhao-jie had changed—his expression turned strange as he opened his mouth to say more, but Song Aunt emerged with a porcelain mug.

She said nothing, placed it before Lin Zhao.

Her anger hadn’t fully faded.

“Wow, malted milk powder! Thank you, Auntie,” Lin Zhao beamed, her eyes bright, her voice naturally softening.

Song Aunt said nothing, didn’t even look at her.

Lin Zhao acted as if she didn’t notice the cold distance, sat beside her, and cheerfully announced, “Auntie, I have a job!”

Song Aunt finally looked at her, firing off a string of questions: “Where? Started already? Is it tiring?”

"Sales clerk at the supply and marketing cooperative—started yesterday. Not tiring." Lin Zhao answered each question, then hugged her aunt’s arm affectionately, grinning sweetly. "I knew you cared about me..."

Song Aunt tried to pull her arm free, but Lin Zhao held tight—she nearly laughed in exasperation.

She pinched Lin Zhao’s cheek.

“Such a pretty girl—where did you learn to be so shameless? Don’t you feel awkward?”

Lin Zhao shook her head innocently. “I don’t.”

After teasing, her expression turned serious. “I know you’re right to be angry—I shouldn’t have stayed away for years.”

“I’m sorry. Auntie, can you forgive me this once?”

Song Aunt had always loved Lin Zhao, and now the girl spoke so sweetly—her icy heart cracked slightly.

She patted Lin Zhao’s hand.

Her voice, once stiff, softened.

"Being a sales clerk at the supply and marketing cooperative is a good job—one you like. Since you got it, work hard."

Her saying this meant she no longer held a grudge.

Lin Zhao’s heart, which had been tense since arriving, finally settled. She reached for her bags and began unpacking one item at a time.

“Auntie, these are for you and Uncle—all food. I have a job now, I can earn money—I couldn’t come empty-handed. I hope you like them.”

Song Aunt knew life in the countryside was hard, and refused to take them. “We don’t lack for anything…”

How could they not lack? Even with two salaries and ration tickets, raising two growing boys—one about to marry, the other still in school—was a heavy burden.

“I don’t care,” Lin Zhao cut her off.

“…That’s so Zhao Zhao.”

Song Aunt’s eyes softened with helpless exasperation. “Still so spoiled.”

Lin Zhao beamed. “You raised me that way.”

She laid out everything.

Meat, eggs, white noodles, a sausage, two apples—each item precious, hard to come by.

“Why did you bring so much?” Song Aunt exclaimed, disapproving. “Yun Cheng, pack it up. Zhao Zhao, take it back—give it to Da Cai and the others.”

Thinking of how long it had been since she’d seen Da Cai and the rest, she added, “When you get leave, bring them here—your uncle misses them.”

Song Yun Cheng crouched beside the small wooden table, helping his mother pack, but Lin Zhao stopped him.

“Don’t you dare pack it,” Lin Zhao glared, voice sharp. “Stand aside. I brought these—I’m not taking them back. Don’t make me hit you.”

She didn’t just threaten—she’d actually hit them. When Old Song and Song Aunt worked, she’d watched the two mischievous boys—and she’d beaten them plenty.

They were terrified of Lin Zhao.

Bloodline suppression wasn’t just talk.

Song Yun Cheng pulled his hand back, sat down obediently, as meek as could be.

Only when seated did he realize he’d been intimidated—suddenly speechless.

Wait, why was he feeling guilty? It should be his sister who felt guilty!

“…!” Song Aunt shot her son a furious glare.

Pathetic.

Song Yun Cheng remained unmoved. Hmph. His mom was biased—he was always wrong.

“Have you eaten?” Song Aunt asked Lin Zhao.

Lin Zhao replied, “I had a little, not hungry—I’ll eat when I get home.”

“From now on, Yun Cheng will bring you lunch,” Song Aunt said, glancing at the food on the table, tone leaving no room for refusal.

Song Yun Cheng didn’t dare object. “Yes, whatever Mom says.”

“No need—I’ll bring my own—” Lin Zhao began, but Song Aunt cut her off.

“Bring your own? It won’t be fresh—especially in this heat. What if you get sick? Yun Cheng eats here anyway—adding a little more rice won’t hurt. Or… are you just saying ‘this is my home’ to flatter us, but deep down you don’t feel close?”

Hearing this, Lin Zhao quickly denied it. “No way!”

Seeing Song Aunt’s steady gaze, she hesitated, then nodded firmly. “Fine—I’ll be shameless. Tomorrow I’ll bring my own rice.”

“Good,” Song Aunt said. “Stay for dinner?”

“Not today—I didn’t tell home I’d be late. I’m afraid Da Cai and the others will worry.”

“Fair enough,” Song Aunt said. Dinner could wait. “Are Da Cai and the others being looked after by your mother-in-law?”

“Yes. My mother-in-law takes care of them—I trust her completely.” Gu Mu was diligent, clean, and deeply attentive to the children—Lin Zhao had no worries.

“Your in-laws are good people,” Song Aunt praised the Gu family, smiling at Lin Zhao. “You’ve got good taste.”

“Auntie, you’re smiling! You’re not mad at me anymore?” Lin Zhao grinned, tilting her face close to Song Aunt’s.

Song Aunt patted her hand, sighing. “How could an elder truly hold a grudge against a child raised under their roof? What’s past is past. Now that you work in town, come often—your uncle misses you.”

She missed her too.

“Okay.”

Lin Zhao didn’t stay long at her uncle’s. At nearly five, she took her leave.

Song Aunt worried about her returning too late, didn’t stop her, and told Yun Cheng, “Yun Cheng, borrow Old Zhao’s bicycle—take your sister home.”

“Yes!” Song Yun Cheng dashed out to borrow the bike.

The Song family owned a bicycle, but Old Song had taken it.

Soon, Yun Cheng returned with the borrowed bike. Song Aunt tied a soft cushion to the rear seat.

“Go slow,” Song Aunt called after them, her eyes full of warmth.

Lin Zhao hopped on, waving. “Auntie, go back inside. I’ll come see you and Uncle tomorrow.”

Against the setting sun, the two rode away.

Song Aunt turned back toward home.

The factory’s family building had five floors; the Song family lived in the corner unit on the third.

This building has no privacy—any relative who visits a household is known to everyone within hours.

“Old Song’s wife, was that just… your husband’s niece, Zhaozhao?” The neighbor, just off work, had been standing nearby watching for a while before finally asking.

“It’s Zhaozhao. The girl got a job as a salesclerk at the Supply and Marketing Cooperative—came to tell me and her uncle.” Song’s sister-in-law beamed.

“At the Supply and Marketing Cooperative?” The neighbor stared in shock. “That’s a great unit! I never expected her to quietly become a salesclerk—this job suits her well.”

At that moment, a resident from the second floor, who had long been at odds with Song’s sister-in-law, appeared, sneering: “So what if she’s a salesclerk? Still doesn’t bring any benefit.”

“That girl hasn’t set foot in your house in years, and now she suddenly shows up—she’s definitely trying to take advantage. Watch out, or she’ll leave you with not even a pair of underwear left.”

She’d tried to marry off her own niece to Song Yuncheng, but Song’s sister-in-law refused; since then, she’s spent every day spreading gossip about the Song family.

The Song family is hardworking and honest—there’s nothing wrong with them—so they attack them through Lin Zhao, always saying Old Song and his wife are fools for raising a thankless brat…

Over the past few years, the Song family has been the laughingstock of the factory.

Song’s sister-in-law ignored her, walking up the stairs side by side with the neighbor, sighing as she spoke: “My Zhaozhao’s grown up—it’s so heartwarming.”

The neighbor nodded along. “What happened?”

“The girl came to see me and her uncle on her very second day of work—brought dried noodles, two pounds of meat, two big apples, a sausage, and over twenty eggs. I thought she’d emptied her whole house. And she even said she’d support me and her uncle in our old age…” Song’s sister-in-law smiled, wrinkles deepening around her eyes.

“I have two sons—I don’t need a little girl to support me in my old age. But the child has a good heart—it truly warms my soul.”

The neighbor knew better than anyone how deeply Old Song and his wife doted on that niece—they treated her like their own daughter.

Lin Zhao hadn’t visited in years; the neighbor had secretly grumbled, thinking the girl had no gratitude.

Hearing Lin Zhao had brought so much, she was stunned—and genuinely happy for Old Song and his wife.

“They say where the money is, the heart is; where the gifts are, the affection lies. You didn’t raise this niece in vain.”

Song’s sister-in-law smiled wider. “I never thought I raised her in vain. Zhaozhao is the child I and Old Song watched grow up—we know exactly what she’s like. The years she didn’t come? There were reasons.”

“Back then, the temporary job Old Song got for her vanished. To ease the family’s burden, she married off herself. Less than a year after marrying, she got pregnant—twice, four children.”

We’re all women—we know how draining raising children is. How could she have time to come to the county? Now that the kids are older, Zhaozhao finally came. Our Song family doesn’t have any thankless brats.”

She didn’t lower her voice—several residents in the staff housing building heard her and nodded in agreement.

“That’s right, raising kids is exhausting. I didn’t know your niece already has four children—what good fortune!” A woman whose daughter-in-law hadn’t conceived in three years said enviously.

“Old Song’s wife, your niece works at the Supply and Marketing Cooperative—can you get us some defective goods? We’re all familiar faces—could you give us a little favor?”

…

Song’s sister-in-law gave vague replies as she walked home.

Once inside, her smile never faded.

So satisfying!

That suffocating bitterness in her chest was finally gone!

She put away the things Lin Zhao brought, setting aside the two pounds of meat and the dried noodles to take to the communal kitchen.

The neighbor saw the meat in her hands—two full pounds—and exclaimed: “This meat came from your niece?”

“Of course it did. Our meat ration was used up—without Zhaozhao’s filial gift, her uncle wouldn’t have had meat today.” Song’s sister-in-law stood beside her, chopping the meat, her eyes brimming with joy.

She washed some greens, chopped tofu and carrots, then added a slice of meat to stir-fry them together.

Instantly.

The aroma filled the air.

The scent drifted through the entire building.

Children wailed, crying for meat.

Adults shouted angrily: “Eat meat? Where’d you get meat coupons? If you keep whining, I’ll beat you to death!”

“WAAAAAAHHHH!!!” Loud, violent sobs erupted everywhere.

Song’s uncle, just returning home, looked utterly confused.

Only when someone told him Zhaozhao had come did he understand.

He locked his bicycle and hurried upstairs, pushing open the door, his eyes scanning the room—hope flickering beneath careful restraint.

He was so preoccupied with his niece that he barely noticed the rich aroma of the meal.

Song’s sister-in-law said: “You’re back? Have dinner.”

Song’s uncle sat down. Less than half a minute passed before he couldn’t hold back: “Just the two of us?”

“Who else?” Song’s sister-in-law set out the bowls and chopsticks, struggling to suppress her laughter, pretending not to notice his thoughts.

Song’s uncle finally couldn’t contain himself: “Didn’t you say Zhaozhao came? Where is she?”

“Puh—!!” Song’s sister-in-law burst out laughing.

“… ” Song’s uncle stared at her, silent.

After laughing, she said: “She went back. Said she hadn’t told home yet, and needed to rush back to check on the kids. I had Yuncheng see her off.”

Song’s uncle nodded.

“Eat the noodles,” Song’s sister-in-law said. “The meat and noodles are from Zhaozhao—today, you must eat plenty.”

Song’s uncle’s chest warmed, but then he remembered Lin Zhao was in the countryside, struggling to even get a meal with meat—and his unclely worry returned.

“I remember we have a few cans of meat. I’ll send some to Zhaozhao someday.”

“You think I didn’t?” Song’s sister-in-law rolled her eyes. “Zhaozhao flat-out refused.”

She laughed again. “Let me tell you some good news…”

Woke up this morning—the sky fell!!

My rating dropped badly. I’m crying. (T＿T)

Dear readers who love this novel, please leave a good review. If you don’t want to type, just tap five stars. Save my rating—I thank you all in advance.

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(End of Chapter)