Chapter 41: Always Making Girls Cry

Gu Fu looked at Lin Zhao.

“This…,” Gu Fu dared not make a decision in front of his third son’s wife; he patted his grandson’s head, his gaze tender, “it’s up to your father and mother.”

Hearing this, Er Zai turned to look at Lin Zhao.

“Mama, do I have a real name?” he asked brightly.

The sky gradually darkened; Huang Xiulan lit the lamp, its dim yellow light slanting over the child, his eyes bright and clear.

“Not yet—depends on whether Grandpa wants to give you one,” Lin Zhao’s words effectively handed the naming right to the boy’s grandfather.

Gu Fu caught the hidden meaning in her tone, rubbed his hands together happily, then nervously added, “You and Lao San should name him—I don’t know many characters. Naming’s a big matter, affects Da Zai and Er Zai’s whole lives; can’t be careless.”

Lin Zhao didn’t answer, leaving the choice to Da Zai and Er Zai: “What do you two want? Who should name you?”

Er Zai said: “I want Grandpa to name me.”

Da Zai nodded too.

Compared to the unfamiliar father, he’d rather have Grandpa, who’d raised them from childhood, take them into the mountains and fields.

Lin Zhao was only too glad—she wasn’t good at naming, and Gu Chenghuai was the same.

Thinking of the man’s earlier suggestions—Hong Xing, Guoqing, Jianjun—all those red-and-loyal names, then comparing them to the names Gu Fu had given his sons, she decided her father-in-law was a master at naming.

“Then it’s a favor, Father!” she unhesitatingly passed the burden to him.

Elders loved feeling needed; Gu Fu immediately dug out a tattered dictionary, its leather cover long peeled and faded, pages yellowed and torn, with bite marks from rats—utterly ruined.

He sat beneath the kerosene lamp, carefully turning the brittle pages with his rough hands.

The warm yellow glow spilled over his curved back, casting a focused silhouette on the wall.

Gu Fu was busy; the others spoke in hushed tones.

The Long Fengtai nestled in Lin Zhao’s arms, drowsy; she gently patted their backs, whispering: “Mama, I heard Da Zai and Er Zai say there’s a wedding in the village?”

Gu Mu didn’t want to mention those two families, but since her third daughter-in-law asked, she spoke plainly.

“There is a wedding tomorrow—pretend you don’t know, don’t get involved.”

Lin Zhao had no intention of meddling: “Will you go help?”

“I have to go—we’re from the same village; if no one goes, it looks bad.” Gu Mu took the sleeping San Zai from her arms, wiped the drool from the little grandson’s mouth, “The kids are asleep—I’ll take you home.”

Huang Xiulan volunteered to take Si Zai.

Si Zai’s chubby little arms twitched slightly; she immediately patted his back, and the tiny milk-ball sank deeper into sleep.

The third daughter-in-law bringing the children to the old house was taking advantage.

Lin Zhao had prepared so much good food for Da Zai and Er Zai: yesterday, eggs and half a bowl of rice; today, apples, white flour, canned goods, and even a piece of meat from ‘Lao Da.’

Though not meant for them, the vegetables stir-fried in the oil used for the boys’ meat tasted rich and flavorful.

Not to mention Da Zai and Er Zai were generous kids—they gave meat to Tie Chui and shared the canned goods with him.

Five-and-a-half-year-olds didn’t care; adults shouldn’t be worse than children.

Lin Zhao led Da Zai and Er Zai onto the path; many villagers still chatted at their doorsteps, watching this scene with varied thoughts.

Chenghuai’s wife really has good fortune—her mother-in-law and sisters-in-law all indulge her.

On the way, Lin Zhao and the others met Su Yuxian and Lu Baozhen, out for a stroll.

“Big Zai brother, Er Zai brother,” Lu Baozhen called sweetly.

Er Zai remembered his mother’s words; at the sight of her, alarm bells rang in his head—he shouted at the top of his lungs: “Da Huang, Hu Po—”

Rustle.

The birds resting stealthily on the banyan tree startled, flapping their wings into the sky.

The old man beneath the tree felt heat on his forehead; he reached up, touched it—wet, warm, stinking.

It was a big one.

He stood up cursing: “Damn birds! Where can’t you crap? Always aim for people’s heads—”

He picked up a leaf and wiped his head, still grumbling.

After cursing the birds, he yelled at Er Zai: “Er Zai, your grandma’s got a loud voice, and so do you—you’re truly your grandma’s own grandson!”

“Of course!” Er Zai answered proudly.

Seeing Da Huang and Hu Po running over, the child threw his arms around Da Huang’s neck, pressed his whole body against him, and whined: “Da Huang, you came just in time—there’s a big crybaby trying to cheat us.”

Lu Baozhen knew he meant her; her face flushed with anger, voice trembling with hurt: “Gu Er Zai, you’re bullying me—I won’t talk to you anymore!”

Er Zai sneered, unconcerned.

Last time at home, before Da Huang and Hu Po arrived, Lu Baozhen had stared at his mother with dark, glinting eyes—Er Zai had sensed danger.

How to put it?

Like when he was peacefully squatting under a willow by the mountain, hearing heavy, foul-smelling breath beside him—he turned, and a massive wild boar, bristling with stiff, needle-like hairs, had crouched right before him.

It made his hair stand on end.

“Fine, don’t talk to me—that’s great!” Er Zai grinned happily.

He knew Lu Baozhen feared dogs; he hugged Hu Po, stepped in front of his mother and brother, in a protective stance.

Lu Baozhen sniffled, tears welling.

To the villagers, it looked like Er Zai had made the little girl cry.

“Er Zai, you made Baozhen cry.”

The village elders recalled old memories and laughed heartily: “Er Zai’s just like his father—Chenghuai never paid attention to girls, always made them cry.”

Lin Zhao heard this from the elders for the first time—about her son’s father in his youth—and her ears perked up.

Er Zai grinned, chest puffed out proudly: “I’m my father’s son—I’m bound to be like him.”

Annoyed at being falsely accused, he added: “I was eight feet away from Lu Baozhen—how could I make her cry? Adults shouldn’t wrong children so easily—my mama, my nainai, my da-bo-nai are all here!”

The man who’d spoken looked embarrassed, cleared his throat, and muttered awkwardly: “I was just joking—how can you take it seriously?”

Er Zai widened his eyes, disapproving: “Mama says, spreading rumors takes one mouth, but clearing them takes legs worn out—I don’t want my legs worn out, Uncle, don’t joke about me anymore—I don’t like it.”

The young man who’d joked could say nothing.

“Alright, no more jokes—I’ll never joke with you again.”

This Er Zai was truly not to be trifled with—every child in the brigade had his mouth on his face!

Always saying “Mama says, Mama says”—he’ll turn into a mama’s boy sooner or later.

Gu Mu said: “Er Zai, let’s go back—your mama has to work early tomorrow.”

“Alright!” Er Zai replied cheerfully, hugging Hu Po like a little guard, escorting his family home.

Su Yuxian suddenly called: “Lin Zhao.”

Lin Zhao ignored her, quickened her pace, and walked away without looking back.

“So tired—hurry up,” she urged Da Zai and Er Zai.

Su Yuxian: “…”

She wanted to badmouth Lin Zhao, opened her mouth to speak, but saw the onlookers dispersing, returning to their homes.

The villagers thought she was clueless—who’d ever marry a girl who was so entangled with a man, raised his children, chased after him like this? What was she thinking? Didn’t she have dignity?

Lu Baozhen tugged at Su Yuxian’s shirt: “Stepmother, I want to play with Da Zai and Er Zai!”

Su Yuxian didn’t want to keep pressing her luck with Lin Zhao’s family—it was humiliating—and didn’t immediately agree, only asked: “Why? There are so many other kids in the village—can’t you play with them?”

“No! No! No!” Lu Baozhen shook her head, lips trembling, kicking her short legs hard on the ground, waving her arms wildly, shouting: “I don’t want to play with anyone else—I only want to play with Big Zai brother and Er Zai brother!”

Su Yuxian’s head throbbed, afraid the girl would ruin tomorrow’s wedding; she squatted down to hug her, but before she could speak, two kicks landed.

“Ow!”

She gripped Lu Baozhen tightly, coaxing: “I’ll think of a way—I’ll make sure they play with you. Don’t cry.”

Lu Baozhen wiped her tears, gazed at the direction Da Zai and Er Zai had left, and smiled.

Her eyes were black and deep, cold as ice—almost not human eyes.

Su Yuxian caught a glimpse by accident—a chill shot from her soles straight through her body, her heart plummeted, fear rising.

At that moment, Lu Baozhen smiled at her, arms open: “Stepmother, carry me home.”

Su Yuxian stepped back, as if the girl before her wasn’t a child, but some terrifying monster.

“Stepmother?” Lu Baozhen’s smile was innocent, clean.

Su Yuxian couldn’t forget what she’d just seen; her lips curled unnaturally.

Her nails dug into her palm; she squatted, picked up Lu Baozhen, her body stiff.

Lu Baozhen wrapped her arms around Su Yuxian’s neck, reminding her: “Stepmother, you promised to think of a way tomorrow—make Big Zai brother and Er Zai brother play with me.”

She whispered, soft and threatening, nestled against Su Yuxian’s shoulder: “You must keep your promise—or I’ll tell my father, and he’ll divorce you.”

“…Alright.”

Lin Zhao returned home, took out five pagoda candies, and gave them to Gu Mu.

Gu Mu happily accepted: “I’ll let Bang Bang and the others eat them when I get back—lock your door, sleep early, you have to rise early tomorrow.”

“Alright.” Lin Zhao saw her and her sister-in-law to the door, watched them leave, locked the door, and began washing up.

It had been a full day without seeing her; Da Zai had much to tell his mother.

The child sat on a small stool, fanning away mosquitoes with a reed fan, saying: “Mama, this morning I went next door to use the latrine—Auntie there asked me about the deworming candy.”

Lin Zhao wiped the foam from her face, dried it with a towel, and replied casually: “She wants to give Da Zhuang one.”

Da Zai said: “Yeah, Da Zhuang heard I and Er Zai pooped out worms—he thought he had worms too, and started crying.”

“I’ll give you one later—take it to them,” Lin Zhao was generous; one pagoda candy cost a few fen outside, and hers came from a lottery—free, so she didn’t mind.

“Alright,” Da Zai agreed, then asked: “How much money?”

“No money,” Lin Zhao smiled—her eldest was such a little miser—and explained softly: “Distant relatives aren’t as good as close neighbors; the family next door is good—I’m happy to give it freely.”

"Besides, getting along well with your neighbors means someone will be there to help if you need it."

Da Zai was precocious and understood his mother’s implied meaning—she was thinking of them.

He beamed. "Thank you, Mama."

"What’s there to thank for? A mother’s duty is to plan for her own children." Lin Zhao poured out the water from the basin, went inside to fetch the tower candies, gave Da Zai a few instructions, and told him to take them to the neighbors.

Da Huang followed.

Hu Po slacked off, lying sprawled in the doghouse, limbs stretched out, yet not moving an inch—only opening her round, wide eyes for a glance before curling back up, closing them, her little belly rising and falling with soft, quiet snores.

"Er Zai, I’m going to bathe. If you’re sleepy, go ahead and sleep. If not, play with Hu Po."

The sky had just darkened; the courtyard was lit by a kerosene lamp.

Er Zai sat before the lamp.

"Mama, go ahead and bathe—I’ll guard the door for you."

Lin Zhao didn’t think much of it. "Alright. Don’t play with fire."

She went to bathe. Of course, the tool was still the basin—the new house wasn’t built yet; they had to make do.

Da Zai arrived at the neighbors’ with Da Huang and explained the purpose.

Wang Chunhua was delighted. "I was planning to ask your mama tomorrow—then I’ll take them. Please thank your mama for me. If you ever need anything, just come straight to me."

"Alright. My mama said to watch Da Zhuang closely at night—if he shows signs of fever, cool him down right away." Da Zai relayed his mother’s instructions word for word to Wang Chunhua.

Wang Chunhua wrote it down carefully in her mind.

"Ah, your mama is so thorough."

Da Zai grinned. Hearing others praise his mother made him happier than hearing them praise him.

After finishing the errand, the child returned home with Da Huang.

Wang Chunhua watched the boy and dog enter, then went back to her own house. She gave Da Zhuang the tower candy, fearing her son and daughter-in-law would sleep too deeply, so she made her grandson sleep in their room and took charge of him herself.

Da Zai said there might be fever—better to be cautious, lest good intentions turn bad.

Song Yuncheng huffed and puffed his way back to town; by the time he arrived, night had fully fallen.

He returned the bicycle, climbed the stairs, and pushed open his door.

He had just set down his things and hadn’t even caught his breath.

Song Uncle, seated on the sofa, asked: "Did you drop Zhao Zhao off? How are Da Zai and the others?"

Song Yuncheng: "... Dad, you really don’t treat me like a person."

He didn’t even ask if he’d eaten.

"Can I at least have a drink of water?" He licked his dry lips.

Thud.

Song Uncle pushed his enamel mug over.

"Drink."

Song Yuncheng was stunned, grinned sheepishly, and picked up the mug to drink.

Wow, he never thought he’d get to drink his father’s tea.

He gulped it down in one go; Song Uncle winced in pain and couldn’t help saying, "Just quench your thirst, that’s enough."

Song Yuncheng stopped.

He returned the enamel mug.

Song Uncle saw it was half-empty and his face instantly darkened.

Song Yuncheng, feeling guilty, scratched his head and hurriedly shifted his father’s attention.

"Da Zai and the others are all fine. My sister treated me to noodles—strange noodles, every single strand was curled. I don’t know how she made them, but they tasted amazing."

"I ate one bowl—I was full."

"Oh, and these are the rations my sister gave me to bring back." He pointed to the bag he’d brought.

Song Uncle gave him a cool look. "I told you to deliver them to your sister, not to pig out."

"She told me to eat—I couldn’t refuse, or I’d get beaten," Song Yuncheng said.

Song Uncle glared. "Nonsense. Zhao Zhao is gentle and kind—when has she ever beaten you? Don’t slander your sister’s reputation."

Song Yuncheng: "... Okay, okay. No wonder we’re blood relatives—you talk exactly the same way."

"... Oh."

Song Uncle was displeased with his answer. "What kind of ‘oh’ is that? Straighten your attitude."

Song Yuncheng stood at attention, saluted, and called out loudly: "Yes, my sister is gentle and kind—I must’ve misremembered!"

"Lower your voice! The neighbors are asleep!" Song Uncle complained.

He carried the enamel mug back to his room.

The expendable Song Yuncheng yawned, washed his feet half-heartedly, and returned to his room.

Just as he was about to sleep, a black head hung down from the upper bunk. Song Yunjin asked curiously: "Brother, did sis really treat you to noodles?"

Song Yuncheng jumped, nearly leaping up to hit him.

"You little brat, eavesdropping again."

"Hehe." Song Yunjin grinned sheepishly. "I’m just curious—I haven’t seen sis in ages."

"Brother, tell me more about sis and Da Zai and the others."

Song Yuncheng rolled over. "Pull your head back up."

After Da Zai and Er Zai fell asleep, Lin Zhao summoned the prize wheel.

The right-side task bar flickered, indicating task completion.

[Purchased a wristwatch, pleased yourself—this is the ritual of self-gifting. Reward: 100 points.]

[Reestablished contact with distant family, deepened familial bonds. Reward: 200 points.]

[Tower candy—a truly effective insecticide. You used it to deworm eight children, nurturing the nation’s flowers with care. Reward: 80 points.]

[Cooked a bowl of braised beef noodles. Reward: 5 points.]

Altogether, she earned 390 points.

Added to her previous savings, she now had 733 points total.

She could finally spin for something big.

Lin Zhao’s expression brightened.

(End of Chapter)