Chapter 49: Stone Brothers

Gu Chan was nervous facing Lin Zhao, unconsciously tugging at her hem. “Zhaozhao’s back.”

She greeted her and turned to leave: “I’ve finished tidying up at home, I’ll just—”

Lin Zhao suddenly spoke: “Big sister, have a meal before you go.”

Gu Chan froze.

Since Lin Zhao gave birth to the twins, she’d come every half-month or month to help tidy the house.

Four years had passed in a blink—she’d never been asked to stay for a meal until today.

Gu Dagu was stunned, quickly waving her hands: “No need, I’ll eat at home.”

“Stay,” Lin Zhao said softly. “You’ve worked hard these past years.”

Thinking back on her own behavior these past years, she felt ashamed.

Such a wonderful sister-in-law—if she didn’t cherish her, heaven would strike her down.

Gu Chan stood rooted to the spot, emotions swirling inside her.

Her eyes burned; she quickly lowered her head to hide her embarrassment, then lifted it again with a smile: “Then I’ll boldly stay.”

Lin Zhao shook her head.

To be blunt, hiring a maid costs ten to twenty yuan a month—how much is one meal for a sister-in-law who’s cared for me for over four years?

Da Zai and Er Zai heard their aunt was staying for dinner and ran over, circling Gu Chan.

“Auntie, my mom’s cooking is delicious,” Da Zai said proudly.

Er Zai patted the little rolls of fat on his belly, grinning: “I eat my mom’s food and my belly grows fat. Auntie, feel.”

Gu Chan obliged, patting his belly, smiling: “You’ve definitely gained weight. Eat well—you’ll grow as tall as your dad!”

“Yeah, I eat a lot at each meal,” Er Zai said enthusiastically.

Gu Chan glanced at the brand-new bicycle and lowered her voice: “Did your mom buy a bicycle?”

“Yes, and a watch—my mom looks so pretty wearing it.”

Da Zai added: “The tickets came from my dad.”

Gu Chan’s eyes lit up: “Has your dad written?”

“Yes.”

So the young couple had reconnected—good news.

Gu Chan had always worried her third brother’s quiet nature would drive his wife away; knowing they were exchanging letters, she felt cheerful and walked briskly to the kitchen to help.

“Zhaozhao, let me help you.”

Lin Zhao had cooked daily for nearly half a month and thought the kitchen was already clean enough.

After her sister-in-law’s thorough cleaning, the dust in the corners was gone, the cabinets gleamed like new, and the bowls and chopsticks were neatly arranged—so clean, so comforting.

“Big sister really knows how to tidy,” she said sincerely.

So Er Zai’s obsession with order came from his aunt.

Gu Chan felt a little embarrassed—every rural child knew how to clean.

“What’s special about it? Everyone can do it.”

Lin Zhao didn’t think so: “Everyone can, but you made it beautiful.”

Gu Chan beamed.

She saw her sister-in-law pull out a strip of meat, six eggs, one tomato, half a cabbage, two sweet potatoes, washing and preparing them all.

She gasped: “...All of this?”

“We can finish it,” Lin Zhao replied.

A small, pale face peeked through the open window—it was Er Zai.

“I’m a growing boy—I can eat my dad into poverty!” he said proudly, voice light.

“...” Lin Zhao laughed and sighed.

“Gu Er Zai, stop imitating adults!”

The next second, Er Zai clapped his hand over his mouth, eyes crinkling with laughter, resting his chin on his arm as he watched the kitchen—if he had a tail, it would’ve been wagging furiously.

“Watch your younger siblings—don’t leave everything to your brother,” Lin Zhao chopped vegetables swiftly, glancing at him.

Er Zai cried foul, frowning: “Mom, I’ve done plenty of work! You didn’t see? At noon, I held onto San Zai and Si Zai when they tried to play in the water.”

He turned and yelled to his brother: “Brother! Brother! Back me up! Hurry, hurry!!”

Seeing the twins climbing the table, Er Zai forgot what he was saying, sprinted over on his short legs, snatched Si Zai away from danger, and scolded sternly.

He mimicked Lin Zhao’s tone: “Gu Si Zai!”

Si Zai looked up, big black-and-white eyes confused, smiling toothlessly—soft as a spring bud—and reached out for a hug.

“Hug!” Her voice was sweet and soft.

Er Zai nearly gave in, but remembered his duty, sternly lecturing his sister:

“Don’t climb high—it’ll hurt if you fall.”

Si Zai’s tiny hand gripped Er Zai’s hem, blinking big eyes: “Hurt.”

“Yes, hurt.”

In the kitchen, Lin Zhao watched this scene and nearly laughed herself to death.

A five-and-a-half-year-old big friend lecturing a toddler—adorable beyond words.

Gu Chan caught her sister-in-law’s smile, and something inside her chest pricked—joy followed by a sting of tears; she turned away quickly, then lifted her head with a light smile.

She’d always known—if they treated Zhaozhao well, she’d settle down happily.

Look—Zhaozhao has a job, and clearly cares for all four kids—how wonderful.

She’d treat her sister-in-law even better from now on!

The entire Fengshou Brigade’s sister-in-laws were losing their minds.

“...” What more could you want? Should we feed her mouth-to-mouth? Please!

Gu Chan’s in-laws were also laborers; they rarely ate meat for months. As the scent of meat spread, her mouth watered involuntarily—she swallowed several times, embarrassed, cheeks warming.

Lin Zhao pretended not to notice, efficiently serving the dishes onto plates.

Looking at the plates, she remembered something.

“Big sister, I bought a stack of bowls and plates—I need to take them to the old house later. Don’t forget to remind me.”

Gu Chan blinked: “Aren’t there already bowls at home?”

“We have to return them,” Lin Zhao explained. “The bowls and plates broken in the Lu family incident were borrowed from villagers.”

The items were broken under Gu Mu’s care—half the cost must be paid.

Of course, Gu Mu’s medical expenses were covered by the Lu family.

Originally, Old Lady Lu didn’t want to pay, demanding the Gu family cover the full cost of the broken bowls. Lu Yizhou, proud and honorable, insisted on splitting the cost equally after paying the medical fees.

On the surface, it was fair.

Because of this, villagers praised him, calling him upright, impartial, and fair-minded.

Lin Zhao said nothing.

Upon hearing the full story, Gu Chan immediately patted her pocket—empty. In ordinary households, a single dime was split in half; unless going to town, no one carried cash, fearing loss.

She smiled awkwardly: “Zhaozhao, I didn’t bring money—I’ll pay you next time I come.”

Lin Zhao laughed: “No need. Mom’s been taking care of the four kids for me—I’m helping because it’s right. Besides, these bowls and plates are defective items from the Supply and Marketing Cooperative—cheap. No payment needed.”

They really were cheap—a coarse porcelain bowl cost only three fen.

Fine porcelain bowls cost at least fifteen fen—several times more.

The broken ones were coarse porcelain, so the replacements would be too.

Gu Chan sincerely thanked her, then asked: “How’s your job? Are you used to it?”

“Yes. Just stocking shelves, selling goods, and keeping records.” To Lin Zhao, it was easy.

“Good. If anything happens, tell home. If we can’t fix it, call Chenghuai.”

“Okay.” Lin Zhao knew her sister-in-law meant well and didn’t argue.

Just then, the meal was ready.

Gu Chan had always been quick-handed at home, and even more so after marriage—she set the dishes on the table and arranged the chopsticks.

While she did so, Lin Zhao went to feed Da Huang and Hu Po.

The two dogs looked up at her, circling her, tails spinning like propellers.

Lin Zhao poured dog food into the bowl—only a little—and Hu Po buried his entire face in it, kicked his hind legs, and tipped the bowl over.

Da Huang, unimpressed, stepped forward calmly, bit his nape, dragged him away, then released him. Hu Po bounced back immediately—his mother, now slightly plump, lowered her body, paws digging into the ground, pinning him against her belly.

Hu Po resisted, butting his round head against Da Huang—useless. He pushed with weak little paws—couldn’t escape, so he flopped over sideways, trapped under his mother’s “five-finger mountain.”

The puppy panted, lying there defeated, doggy face utterly despairing.

Lin Zhao couldn’t help it: “Pfft...”

Gu Chan couldn’t suppress a smile either.

“Da Huang, bring your pup over to eat,” Lin Zhao called.

Da Huang stood up; the puppy leapt up instantly, waddling over, gobbling loudly.

“So tiny, but eats like a beast,” Gu Chan laughed.

Da Zai and Er Zai were washing their younger siblings’ hands.

Hearing this,

Da Zai said: “Mom says Hu Po’s scared of hunger—he’s like this because he was starved. He’ll grow out of it when he’s older.”

“When I first ate dumplings my mom made, I wanted to swallow the bowl too.” Er Zai beamed, savoring the memory, licking his lips as he looked at Lin Zhao: “Mama, when can we have dumplings again? I want some.”

“If you want them, I’ll make them another day.”

…

After finishing her meal at her siblings’ home, Gu Chan returned to the old house to urge her mother to rest and recover properly, then took home the small cloth bundle Lin Zhao had forcibly given her.

This time, she didn’t walk back—Gu Yuanshan rode her home on Lin Zhao’s bicycle.

Lin Zhao had willingly lent out her brand-new bicycle, and the Gu family internally sighed in awe: family truly was family—so straightforward. Borrowing a bike from the team captain meant enduring ten minutes of grumbling.

Gu Yuanshan washed his hands, then fondly patted the bicycle, grinning so wide his mouth nearly twisted sideways, drawing envious glances from the rest of the household.

The eldest is something else.

Gu Fu clenched his thigh in regret. If he’d known buying a bicycle would ever happen, he should’ve learned to ride too. The old father longed to shove his son off and take his place.

Gu Yuanshan rode as if he’d reached the pinnacle of life, pushing the bicycle with supreme pride.

Before he could gloat, his father slapped him on the head.

“Be careful—if you scratch even a bit of paint, I’ll peel your skin.”

Gu Yuanshan looked at his father—he was his own flesh and blood.

His father’s reply was a steady, unwavering gaze.

Yes, you heard right!

“...”

Threatened like this, Gu Yuanshan rode even more cautiously, slow as molasses.

Gu Chan rarely rode a bicycle; she was thrilled yet tense, initially not daring to move a muscle, her whole body stiffening, then carefully adjusting her posture.

After relaxing, she noticed a problem.

“Big brother, can you go faster?”

This speed was slower than her walking.

Gu Yuanshan kept pedaling slowly. “Dad said if I scratch the paint, he’ll peel my skin. How dare I go fast?”

Gu Chan: “...”

“Big brother, you just want to ride longer, don’t you?” Gu Chan pierced his secret wish.

Gu Yuanshan chuckled, not denying it. “Opportunities are rare. Once we get home, with Er Zai and your sisters-in-law watching, I won’t get another chance.”

“There’s still Dad,” Gu Chan smiled.

“Right! Dad just now wanted to yank me right off the bike!” Gu Yuanshan carefully dodged pebbles on the road, a thirty-something man, gleeful as a boy.

The siblings chatted and laughed until they reached their destination.

A bicycle—especially a brand-new one—was an eye-catching sight in any production team.

As soon as the Gu siblings appeared, every eye turned toward them.

A sharp-eyed boy spotted the passenger on the bicycle’s rear seat and shouted to his friends.

“Da Shi Tou, your mom’s back!”

Da Shi Tou heard, calmly said “Oh,” didn’t rise, and kept hunting for cicada nymphs.

So what? His mom visited her third uncle’s house every so often—he was used to it. What was so special?

The boy stamped his foot in frustration. “Da Shi Tou, your mom came back on a bicycle!!”

He emphasized “bicycle.”

Da Shi Tou’s eyes flashed bright—he shot up. “...A bicycle?”

“Yes! Exactly a bicycle!”

Da Shi Tou quickly covered his jar of cicada nymphs, grabbed his younger brother, and sprinted toward the crowd, his hair—grown past his eyebrows—flipping back to reveal a smooth forehead.

He resembled Gu Chan in features—delicate and refined. If he were paler, he could’ve been class heartthrob material.

“Big Uncle!” Da Shi Tou spotted Gu Yuanshan and called out warmly.

Xiao Shi Tou, less outgoing than his brother, clutched Da Shi Tou’s hem and hid behind him.

“This is your Big Uncle, say hello,” Da Shi Tou tapped his brother’s head.

“...Big Uncle,” Xiao Shi Tou mumbled.

Da Shi Tou edged closer to the bicycle, didn’t dare touch it, and flashed a wide, gleaming smile. “Big Uncle, this isn’t yours, is it?”

“Where would I get money or coupons? It was your third auntie’s.” Gu Yuanshan smiled, patted his pocket—no sweet potato strips inside—and chuckled awkwardly.

Slip-up.

Da Shi Tou’s smile faded. He had grievances against his third auntie—he believed she mistreated his mother.

Gu Chan happily helped her brother’s family, but villagers always gossiped, saying cruel things. Even though the Wei family’s in-laws were kind, resentment still crept in.

Da Shi Tou defended his mother, fighting with kids who gossiped about his family—gradually, none dared speak.

But.

He could silence children with his fists, but not the adults who loved stirring up trouble.

Because of this, Da Shi Tou harbored quiet resentment toward his third uncle and third auntie.

Gu Chan knew her son’s feelings. She opened the cloth bundle and pulled out two large White Rabbit candies, handing one to each son.

“Your third auntie gave these to you. These are White Rabbit candies—each one costs several jiao. Er Zai and Da Zai said they’re delicious. Here, for you two brothers.”

Xiao Shi Tou forgot his shyness, snatched the candy from his mother’s hand, clutched it tight, and blurted: “Da Zai and Er Zai are so nice!”

Da Shi Tou glared fiercely at his brother.

Traitor!

Watching Gu Yuanshan leave, Gu Chan led her two sons home.

Wei Mu had just finished feeding the chickens. Seeing her daughter-in-law return, she said: “I left your meal in the pot.”

“I already ate,” Gu Chan smiled.

Wei Mu was stunned.

Her daughter-in-law’s sister-in-law never let her stay for meals. She wouldn’t go back to her parents’ home to beg for food—she always returned hungry.

Gu Chan’s eyes sparkled with laughter. “I ate at Zhao Zhao’s.”

She pulled out the things Lin Zhao had forced on her.

“These are what Zhao Zhao insisted I take,” Gu Chan said, laying them out one by one.

A meat can, half a jar of wheat milk powder, one cured sausage, and a handful of fruit candies: White Rabbit candies, shrimp crackers.

Wei Mu’s eyes widened further and further.

Is her third auntie alright?

The question was hard to voice. After hesitation, she carefully phrased it: “What good fortune did your third auntie hit? Why all of a sudden so generous?”

Da Shi Tou and Xiao Shi Tou also looked at their mother.

“Zhao Zhao became a sales clerk at the Supply and Marketing Cooperative,” Gu Chan said proudly.

CLANG—the gourd ladle slipped from Wei Mu’s hand, hitting the ground. Her face was stunned. “A sales clerk?”

Gu Chan nodded.

Wei Mu slapped her thigh in delight. “Your third auntie’s become a city person! What good news!”

Then she sighed, regretful. “Ah, too bad we already had afternoon tea—if not, we’d have fried two eggs to celebrate!”

After all, they were connected now—selling mountain goods wouldn’t mean enduring scorn anymore!

Da Shi Tou chimed in: “Nai Nai, we can fry eggs tomorrow to celebrate.”

Wei Mu’s mood was high; her face crinkled into a wide smile. “Alright.”