Chapter 50: You Think I

Gu Chan brought back so many good things; Wei Dasao’s heart turned sour, as if she’d bitten into a wild hawthorn.

Her eyes flashed with cunning as she took the initiative: “The family hasn’t split yet—everything your second sister-in-law brought should belong to the common household.”

Though phrased as a question, her tone was absolute.

Wei Xiangdong scoffed, his gaze piercing with outright hostility.

“Things your sister-in-law brought from her own family don’t count as common property—why should my wife’s things? Who do you think you are?”

“You’re so good at taking advantage—were your ancestors part of the Eight-Nation Alliance’s supply unit?”

“You dare bully my wife right in front of me? Do you think I’m dead?”

Wei Dasao had barely spoken one sentence before being shot down; her lips twitched with rage, she could never out-debate him, so she stormed back to her room and slammed the door with a loud bang that even shook the frame.

“Pfft!” Wei Xiangdong sneered.

What kind of trash dares bully his wife.

Wei Mu rubbed her temples and said to Gu Chan: “Achan, ignore them. Go rest in your room.”

With that, she turned and walked back inside.

“Don’t ignore your sister-in-law, but don’t ignore me—I’m your husband,” Wei Xiangdong took the cloth bundle from Gu Chan’s hands and led her into the room.

He shut the door behind him.

He felt resistance; his dark eyes flickered with surprise, and he added a bit more force.

Outside, a weary voice called out:

“Dad, my brother and I haven’t come in yet.”

Wei Xiangdong released his grip; the wooden door swung open, and the Stone brothers stepped forward, standing on the threshold.

Land wasn’t precious in the countryside; every household had a large compound. Wei Fu and Wei Mu had spent half their lives building five yellow mud rooms to give their sons wives.

Each room was spacious, but the wooden lattice windows were narrow, the doors were double-panelled and too slim for two people to walk side by side.

Most striking was the knee-high camphor wood threshold, solidly blocking the entrance—effective against rats, worn smooth and glossy black by decades of use.

“Didn’t you two go to catch cicada nymphs?” Their father sneered.

Gu Chan gently patted her husband’s arm.

Wei Xiangdong worked hard every day; his arms were solid, and the pat hurt her hand.

She said: “Forget cicada nymphs. It’s time to get ready for bed.”

With their mother’s backing, the two Stone boys passed Wei Xiangdong with smug expressions.

“Mom, I want to see what the meat cans look like,” Big Stone said bluntly.

Wei Xiangdong lit a lamp.

The family of four sat around the bed; the warm yellow glow spread out, casting uneven shadows on the window, radiating a peculiar warmth.

Gu Chan took out the things she’d brought back.

“Look. These are all from your third uncle’s wife—she asked me to bring them for you to eat.”

“Big Stone and Second Stone also said they welcome you two to visit Fengshou Team.”

She knew Big Stone held a grudge against his third uncle’s family and tried hard to soothe her son.

Big Stone turned his face away, his voice stiff: “I’m not that easy to bribe.”

Then he muttered under his breath: “No one gets to bully my Big Stone’s mom!”

Wei Xiangdong heard it, slapped his son’s shoulder hard: “Good attitude. A real man protects his mother.”

Big Stone scowled, refusing to speak to his father.

Wei Xiangdong saw this, pinched his son’s mouth into a duckbill shape.

The boy was furious, shoved his father’s hand away, glaring at him with fierce eyes.

“Little brat, acting all grown-up,” Wei Xiangdong teased.

Big Stone freed his mouth, refusing to speak to his father.

He moved his stool farther away from Wei Xiangdong.

He asked Gu Chan: “Mom, how did you end up with Dad? So childish—besides being good at work and decent-looking, and protecting his wife, he’s got no other merits at all.”

Gu Chan laughed and sighed.

“Those are already impressive merits. What more do you want?”

She didn’t ask for anything else—just a hardworking man, clear-headed, and devoted to family. That was enough.

Wei Xiangdong shot his son a sideways glance, leaning against the cabinet lazily: “You don’t understand. Your mom and I were made for each other. Why else, with so many people in town, did I pick her at first glance?”

“What nonsense are you spouting?” Gu Chan slapped him, her face flushed. “Don’t listen to your father’s lies,” she told the two boys.

Little Stone smiled, lips pressed tight: “But Dad already told us.”

Gu Chan looked at Big Stone.

Big Stone nodded: “I can almost recite it by heart. Dad and Mom met in town, locked eyes, started dating, courted for half a year, got married, and then I was born.”

“...”

Gu Chan gave Wei Xiangdong a strange look: “You really said all that?”

“A condensed version. Nothing wrong with it,” Wei Xiangdong said calmly.

He’d barely finished when his wife spat at him.

"Shameless," Gu Chan scolded with a laugh. "You don't mention how I thought you were a rogue at first—how I wanted to run away the moment I saw you."

Wei Xiangdong grinned: “I just skipped the details.”

“...” Gu Chan let him save face and said nothing more.

She was in great spirits; even while wiping the cool mat, her lips curled upward.

This was her first return from Fengshou Team—and she was this happy.

Wei Xiangdong hoped that family would behave and stop tormenting his Achan.

Gu family’s third branch.

Second Stone hadn’t slept yet; he rolled around on the bed, avoiding his sleeping siblings.

“You’re not going to sleep?” Lin Zhao asked with a smile.

Second Stone flipped over and sat up. “Mom, the bed smells sweet—it’s the Sun’s scent.”

“... You can smell it through the cool mat? Your nose must be amazing.” Lin Zhao teased.

Second Stone knew how to climb a ladder: “Yeah, my nose is as sharp as Da Huang’s.”

Lin Zhao noticed he was unusually excited—nearly ten o’clock and still wide awake.

Not good.

She still wanted to spin the prize wheel.

“Second Stone, if you’ve got energy, why not practice writing two pages?” The mother said seriously.

The invisible tail behind Second Stone instantly bristled; his smiling eyes turned wary. Without hesitation, he lay down, rolled over, hugged Third Stone, hooked his finger under the thin blanket, and covered both his and his brother’s small bellies.

The next second, he began snoring.

Lin Zhao laughed. “Already asleep?”

No answer.

She sighed as if disappointed: “If you’re asleep, then I guess it’s over. Second Stone, your writing’s worse than Big Stone’s—you need more practice.”

A loud *whoosh*—someone’s heart shattered.

Second Stone, pretending to sleep, froze; his little brow furrowed. He hated writing!

Big Stone knew his mother was teasing his brother; he smirked, adjusted his pillow.

Seeing this, Lin Zhao blew out the lamp, lay beside the bed, and gently fanned with a reed fan.

The breeze blew through; the dragon-phoenix twins slept deeper, and Big Stone and Second Stone drifted off without realizing it.

After hanging the mosquito-repellent sachet she’d won on the wardrobe handle, the room’s mosquitoes dwindled; at night, not a single annoying buzz could be heard.

She didn’t know if it had an expiration—if not, they wouldn’t even need mosquito nets!

The children were asleep. Lin Zhao put down the fan and summoned the prize wheel.

Last time, she won the red string, tied it on the children’s wrists—now she could go to work with peace of mind.

Because of that, she confirmed this mysterious prize wheel wasn’t just a pretty useless thing—it had real value.

On the right side of the wheel, a string of tasks were checked off and vanished; simultaneously, her points surged upward.

【Treated the best sister-in-law in the commune, gained Big Stone’s forgiveness, reward: 100 points.】

Seeing this task completion notice, Lin Zhao realized Big Stone had held resentment toward her.

Not surprising.

She hadn’t acted like a person these past few years.

【Treat the best sister-in-law to meat, reward: 20 points.】

【Used the supply station platform to buy flawed porcelain bowls, helping the in-laws solve problems, reward: 60 points.】

Earlier, when Gu Mu was injured, Lin Zhao had sent Big Stone and Second Stone to the old house with nourishing gifts—and earned points for that too.

Plus other small miscellaneous rewards.

Total: 568 points.

Seeing this number, Lin Zhao directly spun for the 500-point prize.

Just like before.

The pointer spun and spun, taunting her patience.

Finally.

Came to a slow, leisurely stop.

“Camera”

Three characters—a brief, straightforward description.

Lin Zhao had been photographed by Gu Chenghuai, so she knew what this was.

She was quite pleased to have drawn this item.

She’d originally planned to take the four kids to town for photos in a while.

Now that she had a camera, she could take pictures herself—whenever she wanted, however she wanted, as many as she liked.

The more she thought about it, the happier she became.

When the lottery wheel flashed the four characters “Extract?”, she chose “Yes” without hesitation.

A black Seagull-brand camera—bought new, it cost 180 yuan and required ration coupons.

She’d heard cameras needed film rolls, and one roll cost enough to buy dozens of meals—clearly very expensive.

Along with the camera, she extracted one roll of film and a manual.

Lin Zhao couldn’t sleep a wink.

She got up, tiptoed to the desk, turned on the lamp, adjusted the light, and sat down to read the manual.

After skimming through it in minutes, she picked up the camera and began studying it.

Her learning ability wasn’t just talk.

In less than half an hour, she understood the camera inside and out.

She just lacked practical experience.

The allure of electronics was obvious.

Lin Zhao glanced at the four kids fast asleep in bed, her eyes gleaming.

This was perfect.

She readjusted the light until warm yellow illumination filled the whole room.

She walked over with the camera.

On the wooden bed.

Er Zai hugged Da Zai, his right leg boldly draped over his brother’s stomach. Da Zai slept peacefully, lying straight, arms folded over his chest—either dreaming or crushed by his brother, his small eyebrows slightly furrowed.

Her gaze moved upward to the twins.

San Zai hugged Si Zai from behind, both their pale, plump cheeks flushed red, swollen with flesh, begging to be kissed.

Lin Zhao’s heart melted; the curve of her smile grew wider.

She grabbed the camera, found the right angle, and clicked twice.

Still unsatisfied, she repositioned and took several more shots.

A photo of the twins together.

A photo of the pair together.

From every angle.

When she finally came back to herself, she lifted her wrist to check the time.

23:30.

“?”

Lin Zhao snapped out of her emotional haze.

She put away the camera.

Returned to bed, closed her eyes.

She’d had too much fun last night—she could already imagine how hard it would be to leave her beloved bed tomorrow morning.

The next day.

Da Zai opened his eyes, turned his head, saw Lin Zhao’s figure, paused, calmly moved Er Zai’s foot off his neck, sat up, and took the watch Lin Zhao had placed on the big cabinet.

The night Lin Zhao bought the watch, she taught the two boys how to tell time.

At this moment, the watch read: 7:10.

Da Zai widened his eyes, rushed back to the bed, shook Lin Zhao’s arm, and cried urgently: “Mama, you’re going to be late for work! Wake up!”

Lin Zhao blinked sleepily. “What time is it?”

“Past seven.”

“!!” Lin Zhao jolted awake, snatched the watch—she was almost late!

She jumped up, hurried to the next room to change clothes, washed her face and brushed her teeth quickly, applied face cream in half a minute, tied her braid, told Da Zai to feed Da Huang, and pushed her bike out the door.

As soon as she stepped outside, her legs blurred into motion as she sprinted toward town.

Thirty-five minutes later, she stopped at the Supply and Marketing Cooperative—she wasn’t late!

She locked her bike and walked inside.

“Fen Jie, good morning.”

“Comrade Wang Ju, good morning.”

Lin Zhao greeted both.

Li Fen noticed the dark circles under Lin Zhao’s eyes and teased: “Did you go thieving last night?”

She pointed to her own lower eyelids.

“My sister-in-law came over yesterday. The kids couldn’t sleep and kept up a ruckus late.” Lin Zhao replied casually.

At Fengshou Brigade, Da Zai, just dressed, rubbed his itchy nose and sneezed.

Li Fen seemed to understand. “Your kids are at the hardest age to manage—get through these few years and it’ll get easier.”

“...”

Actually, her kids were easy—none of them were hard to manage.

Lin Zhao smiled but said nothing.

Li Fen knew Lin Zhao was a respectable military wife, with both in-laws and her own family in the countryside—life must be tough. Remembering the news she’d heard last night, she leaned closer to Lin Zhao and whispered: “I’ve got a job—making matchboxes. Two fen per box. Does anyone in your family want to do it? If...”

Before she finished, Lin Zhao immediately said: “Yes! Someone does!”

This job was fiercely competed for even in town—this opportunity was right in front of her; missing it would be foolish!

She joyfully gripped Li Fen’s hand. “Sis, you’re my real sister. Thank you so much.”

Li Fen smiled. “Revolutionary families are one—helping each other is only natural.”

“My husband works at the match factory. It’s just a casual thing.”

Making matchboxes earned hard-earned money—required intense focus, strained the hands, wore out the eyes. After hours of work, your vision would double at night, and even after a full night’s labor, you’d barely earn five jiao.

No one at home wanted to do it—the family wasn’t under heavy pressure.

“You should...” Li Fen began, then saw Liu Chunhong approaching. She cut herself off, gave Lin Zhao a look to wait, and returned to her counter.

Lin Zhao smiled gratefully and got back to work.

Fengshou Brigade.

The twins were taken to the fields by Huang Xiulan; Da Zai and Er Zai happily played hide-and-seek with village children.

The two boys hid behind a century-old camphor tree at the foot of the hill.

They hid for a long time without being found.

Er Zai scratched a mosquito bite on his neck, looked down, and saw a swollen mosquito resting on his arm. He smacked it without mercy, then tossed the corpse onto the ground.

“Bro, let’s go home. There are too many mosquitoes here.”

Da Zai had never liked hiding here anyway. Hearing his brother’s words, he nodded. “Alright.”

The brothers circled the thick tree trunk and headed toward the main road.

The foot of the hill was untended; thick layers of leaves had piled up, hiding stones beneath—some small stones stubbornly poked out.

“Squelch!”

Er Zai’s sandal got caught on something, and he tumbled onto the carpet-like pile of fallen leaves, kneeling.

He stared, dumbfounded.

Regaining his senses, he insisted on finding out what divine force dared trip up Gu Ercai.

He crouched, pried apart the yellowish-brown leaves. No one had come here in a long time—underneath were countless insects.

Er Zai wasn’t afraid, didn’t kill them—calmly brushed them aside and kept searching for the culprit that made him fall.

Da Zai disliked insects. Seeing his brother busy, he sighed softly and crouched to help.

“Found it! It must’ve been this sticking-out stone that tripped me!” Er Zai spotted a sizable stone and angrily tossed it away.

He stood up, brushed the dirt off his hands.

But Da Zai didn’t react—he was still digging with his hands.

“Bro, what are you digging for?” Er Zai curiously crouched beside him.

Da Zai kept digging. “...It feels like a box.”

He lifted his head. “I think this is something good.”

Something good?!

Er Zai’s face lit up with delight. He dashed off, picked up the stone he’d thrown away, and ran back. “Bro, let me help! This stone’s pointy—it can dig holes!”

Da Zai moved aside to let his brother take over.

Er Zai raised his arm and struck hard—again and again.

Using a tool was definitely faster.

Not long after, a small pit appeared on the spot, inside which was a rectangular wooden box.

The two brothers together lifted the box out.

“So heavy,” Er Zai said, searching everywhere for a way to open the box, but found none.

“Can’t open it.”

The box was ochre in color, no more than a foot long, its surface carved with delicate and exquisite patterns; though the crevices of the patterns were packed with dirt, it did not diminish its beauty.

“Mother can open it,” Da Zai said. “Let’s take it back. This box is beautiful—Mother will surely like it.”

“Fine,” Er Zai had no objection.

The wooden box contained something unknown, and it was heavy—the two boys had to carry it together to move forward.

After circling around the old camphor tree, they finally saw the main road leading to the village, when suddenly a person appeared ahead.

Wearing a bright red round-collar tunic, with two small braids, she smiled at them.