Chapter 59: Love the House, Love the Crow

“I found a job gluing matchboxes—I want to give it to Big Sister.” Lin Zhao said.

Gu Mu had heard rumors that the city’s match factory occasionally outsourced work.

But.

Isn’t this job rare?

Many city folks want it but can’t get it.

“Is this true?” Gu Mu stepped forward two paces, her gaze burning as she fixed it on Lin Zhao.

“Of course it’s true. Sister Fen, who worked with me as a salesclerk, helped me find it. I’ve already brought back all the materials—I’ll deliver them to Big Sister this afternoon.” Lin Zhao spoke slowly.

Huang Xiulan and Zhao Yuan walked out of the house, their heads covered in dust.

“There are still such good fortunes?” Zhao Yuan’s eyes lit up; she was glad she hadn’t held grudges and had maintained a good relationship with her third sister-in-law.

Look—opportunity has arrived.

“Just luck,” Lin Zhao smiled faintly.

“Zhaozhao, if anything like this comes up again, don’t forget us,” Zhao Yuan spoke bluntly.

She watched Lin Zhao nervously as she spoke.

She knew Gu Chan cared deeply for the third household, having supported them continuously for over four years; it was only right that the third daughter-in-law would give her the matchbox-gluing job.

She wasn’t greedy.

She just hoped that if matchbox-gluing work came, other opportunities might follow—and she wanted a chance.

“Fine,” Lin Zhao nodded.

Her in-laws’ two sisters-in-law were sensible and knew how to repay kindness; if a good opportunity arose, she was happy to help—it took no effort.

“Thank you, thank you so much!” Zhao Yuan beamed, bowing repeatedly. “Every bit of income counts—everything costs money. I even want to save up a decent dowry for Yu Yu.”

Lin Zhao looked at her with disbelief. “Second Sister… are you thinking too far ahead?”

“Not far at all,” Zhao Yuan waved her hand. “Children grow fast—before you know it, they’re grown.”

“It’s still over ten years away,” Lin Zhao emphasized.

“Oh, ten years? That’ll fly by,” Zhao Yuan insisted she should prepare early.

Huang Xiulan also felt time flew—she still remembered Tie Dan and Tie Chui as crawling little rascals; now, in the blink of an eye, they could run all over the village!

Lin Zhao said nothing.

Fourth daughter wasn’t in a hurry to marry; Lin Zhao hoped she’d see the vast world before considering marriage.

Girls shouldn’t be shortsighted—it leads to tragedy.

Lin Zhao respected her sister-in-law’s thoughts and said no more; instead, she pulled out several sheets of paper. “Mother, these are my drawings—what do you think?”

Gu Mu sat down and took them to examine.

The paper showed Lin Zhao’s sketch of a small courtyard.

It was drawn beautifully—even a layperson could understand it.

Several grand rooms, with double sliding windows, wide open, clearly allowing plenty of daylight inside.

The kitchen was still planned in its original spot, with brick-built stoves and large worktables, smoothed flat; large cabinets lined the walls, looking bright and clean.

What caught the eye was the latrine, divided into two sections. The left area was for bathing; the right was a modified dry toilet—unlike any in the village.

The pit was deep, with waterproofing at the bottom, and a ventilation pipe installed to reduce odor and fly breeding.

“This is the latrine?” Gu Mu held up the drawing of the latrine, her face full of confusion.

“Yes. This way is cleaner,” Lin Zhao said.

She explained the benefits of the modified dry toilet to her mother-in-law.

Gu Mu nodded in agreement. “You really need education—even this you know. When you finish, let me see it—if it works well, we’ll build one for the whole family.”

“Gu Chenghuai ordered extra bricks—they can be brought over later,” Lin Zhao said.

Knowing she never lied, the three women in the old house were delighted.

“Thank you, Third Sister-in-law,” Zhao Yuan beamed, then added casually, “Big Sister, your new hair ribbon is so pretty.”

Being praised always felt good; Lin Zhao’s mood lifted, and from her pocket—actually her storage ring—she pulled out two red hair ribbons, giving one to Gu Chan and the other to Zhao Yuan. “Second Sister, this is…”

Before she finished, Zhao Yuan took the ribbon with a smile, continuing for her: “For Yu Yu—I know. I’ll thank Yu Yu on her behalf. Our Yu Yu has a red hair ribbon now.”

One red hair ribbon cost two fen at the Supply and Marketing Cooperative; she’d planned to buy one for the child during the New Year.

Her third aunt’s gift was even prettier—and looked more expensive.

“No need to thank me. I’ll still need your help going forward,” Lin Zhao said politely.

Gu Mu carefully tucked away her third daughter-in-law’s drawings. “Third daughter-in-law, when your father returns, I’ll show him—he’ll find a skilled builder to construct it bright and beautiful.”

She didn’t know where the old man had wandered off—whenever something important came up, he vanished.

Gu Fu, who was babysitting: “… ” The opera says, when someone wants to frame you, they’ll find an excuse.

“Your parents are both capable and meticulous—I trust you completely,” Lin Zhao said gently.

Country folk spoke indirectly; she was too blunt in her praise—but…

Gu Mu couldn’t stop smiling.

Lin Zhao didn’t stay long at the old house; after chatting a while, she left.

Not far down the path, she saw Second Son and the other children crouched on the ground, their little bottoms raised, digging at something; nearby, Bai Bai mimicked them, digging furiously with her paws, flinging dirt everywhere, coating the children.

“Second Son?”

Second Son heard the familiar voice, turned his head—and saw his mother.

Oh no!

He froze, scrambled up from the ground, his expression innocent, posture obedient—completely unlike the dirty little mud-smeared boy he’d been a second ago.

Lin Zhao said nothing, just stared at his hands.

Second Son immediately hid his hands behind his back, explaining logically: “I waited until the medicine dried before playing. Ask my brother—he’ll tell you.”

First Son hadn’t played, but he hadn’t stopped his brother either; he felt guilty, head bowed, fidgeting with his fingers, silent.

“Go ahead and play,” Lin Zhao’s attitude was remarkably relaxed. “Just wash your own clothes afterward.”

“Where are Third and Fourth?”

First Son replied: “Grandpa took them for a walk.”

Second Son wiped dirt from his cheek with the back of his hand, bluntly exposing Grandpa’s motive: “I know—he thinks Fourth looks cute with the bow, so he took her to show off to his old friends.”

“You know again?” Lin Zhao said slowly.

Second Son wiggled his leg, chin raised high. “Of course I do. What don’t I know?”

The other children gazed at the little show-off with admiration.

“Who taught you to wiggle your leg like that?” Lin Zhao narrowed her eyes.

“If your father saw you like this, he wouldn’t wait until tomorrow—he’d train you right now.”

Gu Chenghuai wasn’t as lenient as she was; that man was rigid and serious, despising habits like leg-wiggling or whistling. If he saw this, he’d summon the boy to stand in the corner for at least half an hour as punishment.

Second Son blinked. “What’s ‘training’?”

Lin Zhao smirked. “You’ll find out when your father comes home.”

“Brave little warrior, unafraid of hardship!” Second Son raised his arm, stood tall, instantly striking a heroic pose. “Any test the organization gives me, I’ll complete perfectly!”

His pale little face smudged with dirt, his smile brighter than the sun, radiant with energy.

Lin Zhao couldn’t argue with him; she turned to leave.

Then she remembered she needed to visit her eldest sister-in-law and stopped, turning back to look at the two boys.

“You two stay home. I’m going to your Auntie’s—I’ll be back before dinner.”

First Son stepped forward two paces. “Mother, can I come with you?”

Second Son couldn’t sit still—he slid over to Lin Zhao, running too fast and stopping too abruptly, his small body lurching forward and landing with a thud on his knees.

“Me! Me! And me!! I want to go too!”

“… ” Lin Zhao pinched the bridge of her nose. “I have serious business.”

She didn’t want to bring the kids—taking both would be a hassle.

“I can help you with your serious business—I’m very useful!” First Son pushed himself forward, speaking twice as fast as usual.

Second Son sprang up, trying to hug her, but Lin Zhao dodged away. “Stand there and talk.”

“...Fine.” Second Son looked down at his dirty clothes and sighed. In the village, other kids would’ve been slapped for this—Mother just finds me disgusting. That’s already pretty good.

“Mother, going alone is so boring. Take me and Brother—we can keep you company, and if anything happens, you can order us around, right?”

Not once did he say “I want to go”—every sentence implied it.

“… Doesn’t seem necessary,” Lin Zhao refused again.

“It is! It’s definitely necessary!” Second Son twisted like a tangled rope, whining. “Mother, please—I miss Auntie…”

A passerby, unaware of the context, chimed in: “Second Son, your aunt lives at your Second Uncle’s. If you miss her, go there. She does nothing but eat and sleep—oh, and she visits the sent-down youth point to find the male sent-down youths. Go to those two places—you’ll find her every time, no extra walking needed.”

He finished speaking, shouldered his hoe, and walked off.

Second Son: “… ”

Second Son’s expression was indescribable.

The children’s faces showed clear, unmistakable disgust.

Feeling a deep ache in his chest, he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted at the man: “I meant my ELDER AUNT!”

Second Son emphasized again, furious: “MY ELDER AUNT!!”

The man paused, waved his hand over his shoulder as if to say he understood—of course he did.

But hadn’t his elder aunt just visited a few days ago?

Lin Zhao silently smiled as Erzai emphatically stressed his point again, cheeks puffed up.

He’s truly made an enemy of his little aunt now.

Dacai stood before Lin Zhao, tugging at the hem of her earth-yellow floral blouse. “Mama, I miss Shi Tou and Shi Tou Di.”

After saying that, he fell silent, only gazing at his mother with his dark, bright eyes.

“Alright.” Lin Zhao, seeing how much the two boys truly wanted to go, thought for a moment and agreed outright. “Go tell your grandmother—we’re leaving now. We have to move again after lunch.”

“Move where?” Erzai blurted out, looking bewildered.

“We’re building a house next week, so we’re moving back to the old homestead first,” Lin Zhao explained.

The twins’ eyes lit up instantly.

Erzai clapped his hands, thrilled. “Perfect! When I open my eyes, I won’t even have to walk far to see the hammer!!”

His hands were caked in mud; when he clapped, specks flew everywhere. Lin Zhao stepped back. “If you’re going, clean yourself up right now—or I’ll take your brother alone.”

Afraid his mother would really leave without him, Erzai sprinted home as if his feet were on fire wheels, frantically washing his face and changing clothes.

Lin Zhao paid him no mind, hanging the matchbox-gluing materials and a cloth bag on the bike’s handlebars, then pushing it out the door.

Erzai was just about to go back inside to apply Baby Cream when he rushed to the door, shouting: “Mama, wait for me! I’m coming right now!”

He dashed inside, opened the Baby Cream, scooped a small glob with his finger, smeared it haphazardly across his face, then bolted back out.

Dacai had run all the way back from the old homestead, still clutching something in his hand.

Seeing the bicycle at the door, he ran even faster.

“Mama.”

Lin Zhao turned to him. “What’s that?”

“Grandma made a straw mat for the back seat—says it’ll keep our butts from getting jolted,” Dacai beamed.

“Your grandma really cares for you two,” Lin Zhao sighed. Even this she thought of—she must’ve prepared it in advance. No wonder she adores her precious grandsons.

Dacai’s smile widened.

He placed the soft straw mat on the bike’s rear seat. “Grandma says it’s ‘love the house, love the crow’—and that it’s the affection of a grandparent.”

“Mama, what’s ‘love the house, love the crow’?” Dacai asked, puzzled. “I ran so fast I forgot to ask!”

“It means if you love someone, you love even their dog,” Lin Zhao said, tying the mat in place, her gaze gently sweeping over her eldest son’s round head.

Dacai latched onto the key point, eyes wide with disbelief. “Grandma loves Dad more?!”

The child suffered his second ten-thousand-point critical hit—nearly broke down.

“!!!”

Before Lin Zhao could speak, Dacai slumped his head, fiddling with the straw mat’s frayed ends, like a small blade of grass bent by wind and rain, unable to straighten.

“Mama loves Dad second, Grandma loves Dad first—why? What’s so great about Dad?”

Grandma always called out in that squeaky voice: “My heart’s darling,” “my good Dacai”—but now he realized she loved Dad more.

He and his siblings were just an afterthought—the “crow” in “love the house, love the crow.”

Gu Chenghuai hadn’t even arrived home yet, and already Dacai had marked him down for two offenses.

Lin Zhao bent slightly, amused as she looked at him. “I’ll write your father a letter asking him to come home. You tell me—what’s so great about him?”

The moment she spoke, Dacai shook his head vigorously.

His long, curled eyelashes fluttered rapidly.

“Dad’s protecting the country. We shouldn’t trouble him,” he turned his gaze away, pridefully.

Lin Zhao gently brushed her fingers across his eyelashes. “What a thoughtful little boy. If your father comes home, he’ll surely bring you gifts.”

Dacai snapped his head toward her, his clear eyes betraying a small, carefully hidden hope. “What kind of gifts?”

“I don’t know,” Lin Zhao said casually. “Maybe something surprising.”

A surprise—definitely something he’d never seen before.

Dacai grew even more eager, his pink lips curling upward as he hummed a quiet tune.

Listen closely—it was the song from the loudspeaker at the county movie theater when she’d taken the two boys to watch films.

Erzai rushed out, tiptoeing to lock the door.

With a soft click, he tugged at the lock to confirm it was secure, then dashed to the bicycle and scrambled onto the rear seat.

He lifted his short right leg with all his might—almost made it.

He pushed harder—still just short.

Lin Zhao half-embraced his waist to help, and the child slid effortlessly onto the seat.

“Thank you, Mama. When I grow another finger’s height, I’ll be able to climb up by myself,” he said, shifting his bottom forward until his soft little belly pressed against the front seat.

He turned to Dacai. “Brother, get on too. Is there enough room? If it’s too tight, tell me—I can hold my breath, suck in my belly. I can hold it for ages—I won’t squeeze you.”

As he spoke, the child with seemingly endless energy added in a smug, satisfied tone: “Aww, who else but me has a mama who cooks like a god? My belly’s already grown fat! Hehe.”

Erzai pinched his soft little cheeks, his smile radiant enough to part the clouds. “Grandpa says I’m getting more and more lucky-looking.”

Dacai quietly pinched his own belly.

Hmm. Soft too. Finally, he’d grown some flesh.

Give them time—they’d surely become the luckiest children in the whole village. No, the entire brigade.

Dacai’s mind buzzed with a thousand thoughts, yet he still scrambled onto the bike’s rear seat with both hands and feet.

Lin Zhao helped him without favoring either.

“Adjust your posture—we’re leaving now.”

Dacai gripped the seat cushion, pulling Erzai into his arms, lifting both feet up. “Erzai, lift your feet like this—otherwise they’ll get caught in the wheels.”

Erzai listened, lifting his feet too.

The brothers looked alike, seated one before the other on the bicycle, the elder protecting the younger in his arms.

Two loving brothers.