Chapter 46: Not an Omen

“Thank you, Mama.” Da Zai tightly clutched the item his mother gave him, then together with Er Zai, they pulled out all the candy they had saved and placed it inside, delivering it to the old homestead.

Gu Mu had numerous small wounds on her body—on her chest, neck, both arms, and her belly.

None of the wounds were deep, but even the slightest tug caused pain.

After drinking a few sips of water, she leaned back against the bed, chatting idly with Gu Fu.

“Aren’t you supposed to be naming the children? Have you decided yet? Let me see.”

Gu Fu said, “Names aren’t urgent—your health matters most right now.”

“How can it not be urgent!” Gu Mu sighed softly. “When I collapsed today, I thought I’d die in the Lu family’s house.”

“I thought then—I still don’t know Da Zai’s full name, haven’t seen them start school, don’t know what the brick house in the third branch will look like, didn’t get to see Lao San one last time… how can I close my eyes without peace?”

Before his wife finished speaking, Gu Fu cut her off with a grim face.

“What last time? What closing your eyes? Don’t speak such ill-omened words! We still have to see our grandsons marry and our granddaughter wed—don’t go imagining nonsense. The housework is ours to handle; just rest and heal.”

No sooner had he finished than two familiar footsteps halted at the door.

“Thud! Thud! Thud!”

Then came three rhythmic knocks.

Immediately after,

Da Zai and Er Zai pulled back the bamboo curtain and poked in two identical little heads.

Their faces were soft and pale, chubby with baby fat, bright and adorable.

“Grandpa, Grandma, can we come in?” Knowing Gu Mu was injured, Er Zai had lowered his usual volume, speaking instinctively more quietly.

“Of course you can,” Gu Mu smiled warmly, waving both grandsons over.

Da Zai and Er Zai carried their familiar small bamboo basket, slowly entering the room.

“What’s this?” Gu Fu rose to help, fearing they’d tire.

Da Zai looked up seriously. “Eggs, meat, brown sugar, and wheat milk powder.”

“My mama prepared them for Grandma, saying you must rest well and recover. If you don’t get better, she’ll take you to the county to see a doctor.”

The children didn’t know what a “doctor” was—they thought it was just a more powerful physician.

Gu Mu’s heart warmed. “Your mama said this?”

Er Zai nodded quickly. “I heard it too! It was my mama who said it!”

The child leaned against the bed, eyes filled with worry as he gazed at his grandma. “Grandma, you must eat well and get better soon.”

Both boys had been raised by their grandma from infancy, and their bond with her ran deep.

That noon, they’d seen their grandma injured, shedding so many golden tears.

Gu Mu felt warmth surge through her entire body, her face beaming. “Good, good, Grandma will listen to Da Zai and Er Zai—I’ll get better soon.”

She hadn’t expected Lin Zhao to send so many good things.

Gu Fu and Gu Mu had spent most of their lives inseparable; no one wished for her recovery more than they did.

Seeing the brown sugar sent by Lao San’s wife, Gu Fu immediately made her a bowl.

He used a full half spoon of brown sugar—the water glowed deep red.

“Drink this—it replenishes blood.” The sugar water was perfectly warm, not too hot. Gu Fu handed it to Gu Mu, urging her to drink. “Lao San’s wife sent plenty—I’ll make you a bowl every day.”

Gu Mu’s heart ached at how much sugar he’d used.

“Just a little is enough—why use so much?!”

Gu Fu replied, “Too little won’t help. You lost so much blood today—you need to replenish.”

“If you finish it, I’ll go buy more from Lao San’s wife.”

“…Is this about money?”

What a waste!

A little would last much longer.

Da Zai held Gu Mu’s rough hand, his small face solemn. “Grandma, listen to Grandpa.”

He lowered his gaze, his trembling eyelashes revealing vulnerability.

“I only have one grandma. Don’t get hurt. Don’t get sick. I’m scared.”

As he spoke, tears fell silently, one by one, without a sound.

Er Zai rushed forward to hug his grandma, then remembered her injuries and instead wrapped his arms tightly around his brother, instantly transforming into a little train: “Wah-wah-wah, I’m scared too! Wah-wah-wah, I don’t want Grandma to turn into a little dirt mound!”

Gu Mu hurried to comfort them. “Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid—Grandma won’t turn into a dirt mound. I’ll get better soon.”

“Grandma must listen to Grandpa and drink the brown sugar water,” Er Zai demanded, his voice suddenly serious—no tears in sight, not even a hint of redness.

He was manipulating his grandma.

“Good, good, good.” Gu Mu patted both boys’ heads, assenting repeatedly—her heart warmed like sipping hot mutton soup in the dead of winter, filling her entire body with comfort.

Er Zai finally relaxed, inhaling sharply and exhaling deeply—as if the heavy pressure in his chest had lifted.

Like a little adult, he instructed Gu Mu to rest well, then took his brother’s hand and left.

Seeing Tie Chui squatting by the door, Da Zai smiled and invited him: “Tie Chui, Er Zai and I are going to see the bicycle Mama bought—do you want to come?”

The house had been gloomy, Tie Chui had nothing to do and no one paid him attention—he stood up. “Yes!”

The three children held hands and returned to the third branch of the Gu household.

Lin Zhao was making bibs for the Long Fengtai. San Zai sat quietly on a small stool, playing with the cloth ball she’d given him; Si Zai couldn’t stay still, running around the courtyard alone, thoroughly enjoying himself.

“Mama!” Er Zai’s loud voice rang out.

Lin Zhao turned toward the sound. “Back already? Tie Chui came too.”

“Mama, I brought Tie Chui to see the bicycle,” Da Zai’s eyes flicked toward the wall, where the brand-new bicycle stood.

“Go ahead—it’s ours. Look however you like. In a few years, when you’re taller than the bicycle, I’ll teach you to ride.” Lin Zhao smiled in promise.

Now that the two boys were back, she no longer needed to constantly watch Si Zai.

“You three keep an eye on your sister.”

Raising children was truly hard.

“Yes!” Er Zai cheerfully replied, crouching before the bicycle, touching the pedals, tapping the wheels—his eyes brightening with each touch.

“It’s our bicycle!” he exclaimed excitedly.

Da Zai was also delighted, turning to Lin Zhao. “Mama, can Er Zai and I ride it?”

Lin Zhao wanted to say yes, but San Zai and Si Zai were both clever little devils—if their brother did something, they’d want to copy it. The bicycle had no child seat—what if their legs got caught in the wheels?

She gave Da Zai a meaningful glance.

Da Zai understood instantly, smiling secretly with crinkled eyes.

Time slipped by.

After dinner, Lin Zhao brought the children to the old homestead.

When they arrived, the Gu family was eating.

On the table: stir-fried cabbage with little oil, pickled radish shreds, small salted vegetables, and the only meat—a tiny dish of scallion-fried eggs—alongside sorghum flour steamed buns and sweet potato rice.

Even this was considered good in the entire Harvest Team—after all, the Gu household had many able-bodied workers who earned full work points, so they received more grain at year-end.

Some families in the village couldn’t even fill their stomachs, drinking water at night to stave off hunger.

Huang Xiulan saw Lin Zhao and stood up. “Sister-in-law, have you eaten?”

Before Lin Zhao could answer, Tie Chui, his little mouth greasy, grinned. “Mama, we’ve eaten!”

Tie Dan knew his brother had eaten meat. He knew he shouldn’t ask, yet couldn’t help himself. “What did you eat?”

“We had twice-cooked pork, mapo tofu, cold cucumber salad, and Auntie San made thick, fragrant rice porridge. Er Zai and I split a white steamed bun,” Tie Chui counted on his fingers, sharing with his brother.

Bang Bang, Lai Mei, and Tie Dan were so hungry they could only turn their envy into appetite, biting hard into their sorghum flour buns.

Hearing her youngest son had eaten so well, Huang Xiulan smiled apologetically. “You’ve spoiled them again, sister-in-law.”

“Children don’t eat much,” Lin Zhao waved it off casually.

Little Tie Chui grinned foolishly.

“…This is what they call foolish luck.”

Huang Xiulan ruffled her youngest son’s hair.

“Big Sister, eat first. After dinner, I have something to say,” Lin Zhao said.

Her tone was serious, making the entire Gu family uneasy.

They finished eating in a hurry. Suddenly, washing dishes became a coveted task. Gu Yuanshan won by bloodline, shoved past Gu Yucheng, stacked the bowls and chopsticks, and carried them off to the kitchen.

Huang Xiulan laughed bitterly.

Even the honest man had learned to play games—normally he never acted so willingly!

She sensed Lao San’s wife had changed. Still, there was no need to panic—perhaps Da Zai’s mother had good news.

Huang Xiulan grabbed a stool to sit down, but her hand trembled—suddenly, the stool slipped and crashed to the floor with a clang.

“…Didn’t hold it well,” Huang Xiulan’s smile froze.

Lin Zhao glanced over and noticed Big Sister’s hand was shaking?

What’s going on? She hadn’t even spoken yet!

Over there, Zhao Liuniang finished wiping the bumpy table and quietly tried to sneak off to the toilet.

Before leaving, she gave Big Sister a reassuring glance.

But no sooner had she taken a few steps than she was called back.

“Second Sister-in-law.”

Zhao Liuniang’s body stiffened—her smile vanished.

At that moment, Bang Bang kindly handed her mother a stool.

“Mom, here’s the stool.”

Zhao Liuniang gritted her teeth. “Showing off now? Why weren’t you this thoughtful before?”

She snatched the stool roughly, walked over in silence, and sat down beside her sister-in-law.

The second sister-in-law was unhappy, but Huang Xiulan was delighted—finally, she had company.

If they were given hard questions, at least she’d have someone to discuss it with.

“...Third sister-in-law, what do you want to say?” Huang Xiulan asked nervously.

Lin Zhao wanted to take out a mirror to check if she truly looked so repulsive—how had she scared two honest people into psychological trauma?

What a sin, what a sin.

It never used to be like this in our previous dealings!

If Gu Dacai and Gu Ercai knew Lin Zhao’s doubts, they’d surely argue back.

Before, Mother was always there to hold things up!!!

“Big sister-in-law, second sister-in-law, don’t be nervous—I want to talk about the four children.”

Huang Xiulan let out a huge sigh of relief, wiped her forehead, and smiled: “That’s all?”

I thought it was something big.

“I’ve made arrangements with Liuniang—while Mother recovers, we’ll take turns watching the four children. You two focus on work; the kids are in good hands.”

“Thank you, big sister-in-law, second sister-in-law.” Lin Zhao hadn’t expected them to be so reasonable; she sincerely thanked them, her pupils glowing like a handful of moonlight—soft and clear.

Her smile was bright and captivating, dazzling Huang Xiulan and Zhao Liuniang.

Third sister-in-law doesn’t look like a country girl at all—she’s whiter and prettier than any female sent-down youth.

Who could refuse a request from such a face?

Lin Zhao didn’t know she’d won over both sisters-in-law with her looks; she pulled out the prepared gifts and smiled: “Big sister-in-law, second sister-in-law, these are my thanks—small mirrors and snow cream.”

Work points meant food rations; Gu Dacai and Gu Ercai wouldn’t skip work, so watching the four children was extra labor—she couldn’t let them help for free; Lin Zhao understood this social etiquette well.

Zhao Liuniang took hers first, her face blooming with joy, slapping her chest: “Thank you! I promise to take good care of the four children—not a single hair will be harmed.”

Even as she spoke, she held the small mirror and snow cream as if afraid to squeeze them.

She picked up the mirror and looked—her face was clearly reflected inside.

“So clear!” Zhao Liuniang exclaimed. “I’ve never seen my own face this clearly before.”

She touched the wrinkles at the corner of her eye, froze, and smiled bitterly: “Old, old... I have wrinkles now...”

Lin Zhao said: “Your skin’s dry. Snow cream will help.”

Zhao Liuniang clutched the tiny snow cream, sighing softly: “This is my first time holding snow cream. I owe you, sister-in-law.”

When she was young, she’d wanted a jar of snow cream—but country girls had no money for such things, so she gave up.

After marriage, she had a little money—but couldn’t bring herself to spend it.

Holding her first jar of snow cream, Zhao Liuniang thought of her little daughter.

Yu Yu’s face was dried by the sun, nowhere near as plump and dewy as the four children’s. With this snow cream, her Yu Yu could be soft and fair too.

Thinking this, she looked at Lin Zhao with gratitude.

Huang Xiulan smiled too: “Yes, now we’ve seen snow cream too.”

She’d always thought watching the four children was her duty—now she felt not a trace of resentment.

That evening.

Gu Mu learned of it: “Third daughter-in-law is getting better at handling things!”

“Now Big daughter-in-law and Second daughter-in-law won’t have a single complaint. My heart can finally rest easy.”

Gu Fu adjusted the lamp brighter, took the ointment to the bedside.

“Time to change the medicine.”

The ointment stung and burned when applied to the wound; the discomfort lasted a long while. Gu Mu felt pained just seeing it, but she had to change it.

“Hurry up.”

Gu Fu replied: “Mm.”

While they changed the medicine, the Lu household was in full bustle.

Su Yuxian had dreamed of marrying into this family and now awaited her wedding night—her outer robe already off.

“Bang bang bang!!” Repeated knocking echoed.

She quickly redressed, smoothed her disheveled hair, and hurried to open the door.

At eye level, no one was there.

She looked down—saw Lu Baozhen holding a pillow.

“I’m sleeping with Dad!”

The voice was sweet and soft—but shattered Su Yuxian’s heart into pieces.

She forced a smile: “Didn’t we agree you’d sleep with Grandma tonight?”

Lu Baozhen ignored her stepmother, stepped inside, saw Lu Yizhou sitting on the bed’s edge, ran over, hugged his thigh, and cooed: “Dad, I’m scared. I want to sleep with you.”

Sleeping with a woman versus a beloved daughter—of course, the daughter who brought good fortune mattered more.

Lu Yizhou smiled: “Alright.”

Hearing his approval, Lu Baozhen giggled.

Su Yuxian couldn’t smile. She truly couldn’t.

She still hoped to conceive a son soon—how could she, with this burden?

She hadn’t been this annoying before.

Just then, Lu Baozhen spoke: “Stepmother, I need to wash my feet.”

She’d just married in, hadn’t consummated the marriage—Su Yuxian had to please everyone in the Lu household. She dared not say no, pulled her lips into a smile: “Alright.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she stepped out of the room—and her expression turned furious.

Little burden!

She cursed inwardly as she headed to the kitchen.

She lit the lamp—the kitchen entrance was littered with patches of ash. Su Yuxian knew what lay beneath the ash: blood—Gu Mu’s.

Such an unlucky day for a wedding.

As she thought this, her hand accidentally brushed the knife on the cutting board—it suddenly fell, striking her bare toe in the straw sandals.

“Ahhhh—!!”

A piercing scream rang out, echoing through the neighborhood.

Neighbors across the wall jumped up, gripping the low wall, shouting: “What’s wrong? Who’s screaming?!”

The Lu family rushed into the kitchen.

There they saw Su Yuxian bent over, clutching her foot—her big toe split open by the blade, bleeding profusely, as if severed, far bloodier than the noon incident.

“Oh my, how careless! On such a happy day!” Lu Mu shrieked, full of blame, and grabbed a handful of ash, sprinkling it over Su Yuxian’s right foot.

The bleeding stopped instantly.

In the bridal chamber, Lu Baozhen stared at her left hand and whispered: “Lili.”

The words faded.

A black carp pattern appeared on the tiger’s mouth of her left hand.

Its body was like ink-drenched abyss, gleaming with metallic luster, edges faintly revealing dark crimson blood veins—as if frozen with countless curses.

At a glance, it was no omen of fortune.

The black carp pattern seemed imprinted into Lu Baozhen’s flesh.

It wriggled briefly, then vanished.