Chapter 476: Is It Legally Required?

Ning Xiao evaded the question: “Big brother has some personal matters.”

Gu Zhiyu mumbled, “Personal matters?”

“What personal matters? Can’t even find time to come home.”

She merely muttered under her breath, never intending to dig deeper.

Everyone has their privacy.

“Forget it. I just hope Mom doesn’t feel disappointed.”

Hearing this, in a corner Gu Zhiyu didn’t notice, Ning Xiao let out a long, slow breath.

He couldn’t lie to Bao Bao—if she pressed him, he truly wouldn’t know how to answer. Luckily, she didn’t ask.

Lin Zhao was overjoyed to see her daughter and son-in-law, and personally cooked them a meal in the kitchen.

Ning Xiao and Gu Zhiyu went to help in the kitchen.

Sensing her husband was in high spirits, Gu Zhiyu turned to look at Ning Xiao.

“What’s so good? You look so happy.”

Lin Zhao also looked over curiously.

“Nothing,” Ning Xiao said softly, his whole body relaxed in the Gu household, like a fierce beast returning to its den, rolling over to expose its soft belly.

“I just remembered something from childhood,” he said.

“Childhood? What?” Gu Zhiyu asked, intrigued.

She had a strong image-consciousness—afraid her husband might recall her embarrassing past, so she absolutely had to ask.

“It’s not about your embarrassing moments,” Ning Xiao preempted.

Gu Zhiyu exhaled in relief, yet said, “I didn’t ask about that anyway. Besides, I never had any embarrassing moments as a child.”

Lin Zhao, knowing her daughter prized her image, chimed in: “That’s right. You never had any. You were always well-behaved, a quiet little girl from the start.”

The one who wet the bed and blamed her brother? Definitely not Gu Zhiyu.

Gu Zhiyu didn’t even believe it herself, but couldn’t help laughing.

She nudged Ning Xiao’s arm. “You haven’t told me what childhood memory you just recalled.”

Ning Xiao lowered his gaze slightly, his tone tinged with nostalgia: “When Yubao and Hangbao used to help Mom tend the stove in the kitchen, you and Qianbao sat by the kitchen door. Every time Mom finished cooking, she’d let you taste it—you’d be overjoyed. Back then, I was envious. I thought, having a mother like Aunt Lin must be wonderful.”

He smiled. “I never imagined we’d truly become one family.”

Gu Zhiyu stared at her husband in surprise. “You didn’t start thinking about me back then, did you?”

Ning Xiao looked horrified, dark lines forming on his forehead. “How could that be?! I’m not a monster. How old were you then? If I’d had any dirty thoughts, what would I be but an animal?!”

He spoke with righteous indignation, genuinely shaken.

“Not necessarily,” Gu Zhiyu countered with her own twisted logic. “Maybe you heard the villagers talking and thought, ‘I’ll become her child bridegroom’—then you’d be part of the family.”

Ning Xiao fell silent.

In that brief pause, Gu Zhiyu froze. “No way… you actually thought that?!!”

“No!” Ning Xiao hurried to deny it, afraid of being misunderstood. “Someone actually did say that to me.”

“I scolded them. I didn’t take it to heart. You just brought it up, and now I remember.”

Gu Zhiyu pouted. “Some people’s mouths are so gossip-ridden. So annoying.”

Lin Zhao smiled and comforted her furious daughter. “There are always people like that everywhere. Didn’t you encounter them at the TV station?”

“True. Just ignore them,” Gu Zhiyu said.

She came from a good family, wasn’t plain-looking, and had a brilliant husband—she knew people envied her. As long as the gossip didn’t go too far, she never responded.

Ning Xiao, fearing Gu Zhiyu’s gentle nature might make her a target, warned: “Sometimes you need to push back, show your strength. Don’t let people walk all over you. Human nature is complex—it always targets the weak. Don’t be too easygoing at the TV station either.”

Hearing this, Lin Zhao, who had been about to remind her daughter, fell silent. She glanced at the perfectly matched couple and smiled.

Someone else was worrying about Bao Bao now—she could afford to step back a little.

Gu Zhiyu was wrapping dumplings, her tone light. “I know. My parents raised me well—I never suffered any injustice growing up. You, too, spoil me endlessly. How could I let outsiders bully me? Don’t worry.”

In truth, at the TV station, Gu Chenghuai had already made discreet inquiries—not demanding any improper favors, just asking them to look after his daughter a bit more, ensuring the kind of gossip surrounding Jiang Rong never happened again.

Because of this, the TV station’s leadership realized Gu Zhiyu’s family background was extraordinary—her father was a top military commander, her mother came from the Lin family of Haicheng, a clan with elites in every industry, many of whom even they couldn’t reach. Gu Zhiyu had to be treated well!

Regular footsteps sounded outside the clean, renovated kitchen.

A handsome young man appeared at the doorway.

“Making dumplings? Perfect timing. Mom, I want a big bowl.”

Lin Zhao, thrilled to see her youngest son after three months, rushed over and examined Gu Zhiqian from head to toe.

“Eat as much as you want,” she laughed. “Why the sudden return? How long will you stay?”

“Half a month,” Gu Zhiqian said, washing his hands before entering the kitchen to help.

Ning Xiao handed him a rolling pin. “Help roll the dough. Mom and Zhiyu are wrapping too fast—I can’t keep up.”

Gu Zhiqian took it and got to work efficiently.

He had two older brothers who doted on him, so he’d never needed to do chores growing up—but he could do them all, and even cook.

“Having you help makes things so much easier,” Ning Xiao smiled.

He feared falling behind and being scolded by his wife.

Gu Zhiqian’s lips curled into a faint smile.

“Mom’s filling is amazing—so fragrant. I want another late-night snack tonight.”

Lin Zhao: “Alright. I’ll freeze some. I’ll boil you some tonight.”

“Mm.” Gu Zhiqian was satisfied—he was already looking forward to the next meal before finishing this one.

Gu Chenghuai returned just then.

“Lao San’s back.”

Gu Zhiqian smiled. “It’s me, Dad.”

“How long are you staying?” Gu Chenghuai asked.

The kitchen was too crowded for him to squeeze in—he waited by the door, planning to clear the table later.

“Half a month,” Gu Zhiqian answered.

He meant the time he’d spend at home—not counting travel time.

Gu Chenghuai nodded. “Good. Spend more time with your mother.”

“Mm-hmm,” Gu Zhiqian replied. “Wherever Mom wants to go, I’ll go with her.”

Lin Zhao said: “I want to go boating.”

“Any specific place in mind, or anywhere’s fine?” Gu Zhiqian mentally scanned possible boating spots and quickly formed a travel plan.

“Anywhere’s fine, as long as the scenery’s nice. I just want to clear my head.”

“Then I’ll plan it,” Gu Zhiqian said immediately. “I’ll make sure Mom has a wonderful time.”

“Great. I’m looking forward to it—we haven’t gone out together in a while,” Lin Zhao thought, already imagining taking many photos.

Lao San spent so little time at home—he had far fewer photos with the family than the others.

Hearing this, Gu Zhiqian felt a strange ache in his chest.

A flicker of guilt passed through his eyes.

His parents had raised him so well, yet he couldn’t stay by their side often—it was unfilial.

Before he could dwell on it for two seconds, Gu Chenghuai spoke.

“Your mother hates fussing. Watch over her. Stay safe. If she gets hurt or falls, I’ll hold you responsible.”

Gu Zhiqian was interrupted—the sudden sentimental mood vanished instantly.

He kept rolling, glancing at the tall figure blocking the doorway.

“Dad, I’m your son too,” he emphasized. “Grandpa always said, ‘the youngest son and the eldest grandson are the old man’s lifeline.’ I’m the youngest son—yet I feel none of your favoritism.”

“Stop being dramatic. Roll your dumpling wrappers,” Gu Chenghuai said, expressionless.

Gu Zhiqian sighed, resigned, and worked faster.

“Big brother, I’m the baby. I’m the real lifeline of Grandpa, Grandma, and Mom and Dad,” Gu Zhiyu grinned, eyes crinkling like crescent moons.

“That’s true,” Gu Zhiqian said seriously. “I’m convinced.”

Gu Zhiyu burst out laughing, collapsing onto her husband, all her public elegance gone.

“No, no—little brother’s also a treasure to Grandpa, Grandma, Mom, and Dad. When you’re away, they always ask about you.”

“I’m unfilial,” Gu Zhiqian said, upright and proud—his only regret was failing to repay the boundless love of his family.

“After I take Mom out for a walk, I’ll go visit them.”

Gu Zhiyu added: “And Uncle Gong—he and Auntie miss you too.”

“I will,” Gu Zhiqian said, warmth flickering in his eyes.

“I’ve passed on the message, but I have to work—I can’t go with you,” Gu Zhiyu said regretfully.

“Working means no freedom,” she sighed.

Society was advancing rapidly—private enterprises were multiplying, and the “iron rice bowl” no longer existed. Lin Zhao, observing closely, noticed many people now carried a deep weariness, their vitality dimmed.

She couldn’t say whether it was good or bad—only that she sighed.

Life had improved—meat and new clothes were no longer hard to get. So why were people less happy?

Everyone looked like puppets.

Lin Zhao felt this trend would worsen. She was just a grain of sand in the tide—she couldn’t change it, but she could try to guide those around her, helping them avoid unnecessary detours.

“Your job is quite good,” Lin Zhao told Gu Zhiyu. “On-time hours, high salary, good benefits—be grateful.”

Gu Chenghuai added: “You always have a safety net. Even if you quit, you’ll never starve.”

“I know, I’m just expressing a thought—it hasn’t affected my mood,” Gu Zhiqian said, quickly explaining as she met her parents’ gazes.

She wasn’t some pitiful little thing.

Her job was truly good.

The next day.

Upon learning Gu Zhiqian had returned, the Gu family sent wave after wave of visitors early that morning.

All of them came to propose matches for him.

Lin Zhao turned them all away, one after another.

She had just reached for a sip of water when another arrived.

“Lin Mei Zi is here? I didn’t interrupt, did I?” The visitor walked in uninvited, scanning the room.

Lin Zhao’s expression turned flat. “You did.”

The woman chuckled awkwardly but didn’t leave.

She stepped inside, sat on the sofa, and said, “Lin Mei Zi, I’ve come with some good news.”

Lin Zhao’s face remained expressionless. “Oh? A family joy I, as the mistress of this house, didn’t know about—someone else has to tell me? How utterly failed am I as a mother?”

These light but pointed words made the visitor’s eyelids twitch.

Remembering the hefty referral fee, she forced a laugh. “Lin Mei Zi, you’re such a joker.”

“Don’t play dumb with me…”

She dropped the pretense. “I’ve come to propose a match for your Zhiqian—what else could be good news? Don’t you think so?”

What could Lin Zhao say? She didn’t want to speak.

She’d already turned away several people—she just wanted a moment of peace!

The woman pressed on, unfazed. “The girl I’m thinking of is gentle, pretty, and works as a nurse at the military hospital. Her family is solid too—both parents are cadres. She’s about the same age as your Zhiqian. Perfect match, don’t you think?”

“I don’t think so,” Lin Zhao replied, four words sharp enough to cut. Her impatience nearly spilled over.

“At least let the two of them meet. Maybe they’ll like each other. Your Zhiqian isn’t getting any younger—if you don’t find someone soon, all the good girls will be married off.”

“And then what?” Lin Zhao countered.

“People can’t stay single forever…”

“Why not?” Lin Zhao cut in. “Is there a law saying you must marry? My husband and I don’t pressure our children on this. If they want to marry, they marry. If they don’t, they stay single. It’s their choice. Thank you for coming, Sister, but you’ve wasted your trip.”

The matchmaker met Lin Zhao’s unwavering gaze and said nothing more—further words would risk offending her.

She tugged at her lips. “Alright. If you ever need me, Lin Mei Zi, just come find me. I’ll be off now.”

Lin Zhao stood, watched the woman leave, then sank back down, rubbing her temples.

“First thing in the morning… so exhausting.”

Gu Zhiqian stepped closer, sat beside Lin Zhao, and began massaging her head.

“I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with this,” he said, apologetic.

Lin Zhao took his hand, patted his back, and scolded gently, “Why be so formal with me? I just turned a few people away—it’s nothing.”

It was just annoying.

Some people had nothing better to do than pry into others’ lives, lecturing like they knew best.

As always: she didn’t pressure her children to marry. Why should outsiders? They’re overstepping.

“Mom, if I never marry, will you feel ashamed?” Gu Zhiqian asked.

He’d never seriously considered it.

But today, he realized—even with all his excellence—his mother bore the weight of his unmarried status.

“How could I?” Lin Zhao’s face hardened with disapproval. “You’re my pride. All four of you are the greatest pride of my life. If you don’t marry, fine. What’s the issue? I’ve always said—I don’t demand you marry. Choose the life you love.”

“Marriage isn’t a quota. It’s not something you must complete. Only marry if you want to—if it will make you happy. Not because you think you should, or to save face. What does ‘should’ even mean? There’s no such thing as ‘should’.”

Her gaze softened. “I only want my children to be happy. Everything else is empty—I don’t care.”

Gu Zhiqian’s dark eyes lit up. He looked at Lin Zhao. “Mom, I don’t want to marry. I want to devote my life to scientific research. What do you think?”

“I think it’s wonderful,” Lin Zhao said without hesitation. “As long as you’re happy.”

After speaking, she smiled calmly. “I already knew.”

“Huh?” Gu Zhiqian’s tone was puzzled.

Lin Zhao said nothing more.

Because her Qian Bao was too brilliant. Few in this world could match him—not even share common language. How could he find a partner?

Gu Zhiqian saw the answer in his mother’s eyes and didn’t press further.

He had the most open-minded parents in the world. That was his greatest treasure in life.