Chapter 6: Pity She Has a Love-Struck Heart

The child’s hand was warm, soft, and tiny; Lin Zhao held it in her palm and felt her heart sink, her eyes automatically smiling.

Dacai glanced enviously at his younger brother, wishing their mother would hold his hand too.

Lin Zhao saw through Dacai’s thoughts and extended her other hand to him: “I’ll hold your hand too.”

Dacai’s dull eyes instantly brightened; without a word, he grabbed his mother’s hand, his lips curving upward—and the smile never faded.

The Gu family’s three left, leaving the older and younger children chattering in place.

“My mom lied—twins’ moms like them,” Yuan Bao was furious.

Thinking of something, he grew angrier and more wounded: “When twins fight, their mom doesn’t scold them—she holds their hands and takes them home. When I fight, my mom whacks my butt hard. When I ask her to hold my hand, she refuses— I must’ve been picked up.”

The little boy’s face drooped, like a stray puppy with no home.

In the field, Yuan Bao’s mother sneezed; she had no idea that refusing to hold her son’s filthy, urine-smeared hands had led him to imagine himself abandoned—and if she knew, she’d think she’d been too lenient.

“Twins’ mom’s a lazy hag, but she buys them meat buns,” Tie Niu said, envious. “I want to eat meat buns too.”

Chang Sheng snorted. “What’s so great? Tomorrow their mom won’t even look at them!”

“How do you know?” Yuan Bao dragged a stick through the dirt, still gloomy, still trapped in that unspeakable sadness.

“I just know!” Chang Sheng was stumped, scowled, and walked off.

With the kid leader gone, the other children brushed off their clothes and left beneath the old banyan tree.

Far away, faint, babyish voices could still be heard.

“It’s all Chang Sheng’s fault—I was going to ask the twins if I could smell their meat buns, and now I’ve missed my chance,” Yuan Bao muttered.

Another little girl sighed: “I wanted to smell one too.”

Passersby, baffled, saw the children’s gloomy faces and couldn’t help smiling.

Lin Zhao brought her two sons to the Gu household; barely inside the gate, two soft, cuddly little bodies clung to her legs.

It was the Long Fengtai.

San Zai and Si Zai called out “Mama,” their pronunciation off—they said “Liang.”

Dacai steadied his brother and patiently corrected Si Zai: “It’s ‘Ma,’ not ‘Liang.’”

“Liang～～” Si Zai tried again—still “Liang.” She lifted her tiny face, beaming, revealing her little milk teeth.

Er Zai teased his sister: “Si Zai’s a little dummy—can’t even say ‘Mama’ right, little dummy.” He lightly pinched her cheek.

Si Zai spotted the bun in Er Zai’s hand and reached for it.

Er Zai dodged quickly; Si Zai panicked, let go of Lin Zhao’s leg, and toddled after him, shouting “Yao!”

“Yao～ Yao～～” in a babyish voice.

Er Zai wasn’t stingy, but feared his sister couldn’t eat it—he panicked and asked Lin Zhao: “Mama, can Si Zai eat the bun?”

At that moment, Gu Mu stepped out from inside.

Er Zai shouted loudly: “Nai, Mama bought us buns—meat buns, super tasty meat buns!” Anyone hearing him would think he was bragging.

Si Zai still wobbled, reaching for Er Zai’s bun; she was short and stout, tiptoeing but still couldn’t reach—yet she didn’t give up, clinging to her brother’s arm with steady determination, her little face flushed red like a ripe apple.

Si Zai’s entire weight leaned on Er Zai; he was exhausted, and shouted again: “Nai, can Si Zai eat meat buns?”

Gu Mu replied: “Give her a piece the size of a fingernail—just let her taste it.”

Er Zai tore off a sliver of crust and gave it to her; Si Zai shoved it into her mouth, sucking the flavor with her four tiny milk teeth, her eyes crinkling, drool trickling down her chin.

“Drooling again, little dirty kid,” Er Zai scolded her in adult fashion, then pulled out a small handkerchief to wipe her drool.

Si Zai was obedient, cooperating as Er Zai wiped her face; when he did, she lifted her head, her expression unnervingly calm.

San Zai was quieter than his sister, staying beside Dacai, silent and still. When his big brother gave him a scrap of bun, he took it and chewed.

Lin Zhao watched this scene, her emotions tangled—of course, she was an outstanding background female lead in every way; barely a year old and already so remarkable. Too bad she had a love-struck heart.

This lifetime, with her here, how could these kids ever grow up with love-struck hearts?

Her gaze swept over each child.

Dacai and Er Zai felt a chill run down their spines; they looked around but saw nothing, and relaxed.

Lin Zhao turned her eyes to Gu Mu and handed her the package: “I need Father’s help with something. This is my thanks.”

Gu Mu mechanically took the paper-wrapped bundle from her third daughter-in-law’s hand, stunned.

What’s going on?

Third daughter-in-law actually came bearing gifts? First time ever.

Gu Mu didn’t feel happy—she felt panicked, her mind in chaos.

What does Third Daughter-in-law want?!

“Looking for your father? What for?”

Before Lin Zhao could speak, talkative Er Zai blurted: “Mama wants to build a house!”

“Build a house?” Gu Mu’s voice rose, thick with confusion. “Why suddenly want to build a house?”

Er Zai didn’t know; he followed his grandmother’s gaze to Lin Zhao.

“That mud hut sheds dust everywhere—no matter how much you sweep, it never cleans,” Lin Zhao said, disgusted.

Gu Mu choked, her mouth twitching—when was the last time you swept?

Besides, back then she’d suggested building a brick-and-tile house; Third Daughter-in-law had flatly refused, muttering about not having money, acting like she had no skin in the game.

Now, just a few years later, she’s changed her mind—and looks disgusted…

Gu Mu was used to Third Daughter-in-law’s whims; afraid she’d cause trouble, she said nothing and replied: “Your father’s resting inside—I’ll call him.”

Saying that, she clutched the small paper bundle and went back inside.

Gu Fu was lying on his bed; he’d heard the noise in the yard but had been busy all morning and just wanted to rest, so he hadn’t gone out.

Seeing Gu Mu enter, he opened his eyes: “Dacai and Er Zai came?”

“Yes, not just the two boys—Third Daughter-in-law came too.” Gu Mu opened the package, saw the meat buns and brown sugar, froze, and blurted: “Meat buns and brown sugar!”

Gu Fu sat up, saw the meat buns, and involuntarily swallowed—white flour meat buns. Back then, when he sent Third Son off to the army, he’d bought two; Third Son had insisted he take one. That taste had been so delicious.

He missed Third Son.

“Where did these meat buns come from?”

Gu Mu said: “Third Daughter-in-law brought them. She wants your help—she wants to build a brick-and-tile house, says the current one sheds too much dust.”

Building a house was ultimately good; she had no objection.

Gu Fu was delighted to hear about the brick-and-tile house, but had one problem: “Build it now? Everyone’s busy with the double harvest—hard to find workers.”

“And where will the bricks and tiles come from?”

Bricks and tiles were hard to get—troublesome to procure.

“Third Daughter-in-law’s outside—ask her,” Gu Fu asked, but Gu Mu couldn’t answer either, so she told him to go ask Lin Zhao.

The thought of dealing with Third Daughter-in-law made Gu Fu’s head ache—he groaned.

Third Son wasn’t home; he couldn’t ignore it. He slipped on his straw sandals and walked out.

In the yard, Gu Fu shed his usual gloom and negotiated with Lin Zhao: “Third Daughter-in-law, I heard from your mother you want to build a brick-and-tile house? It’s double harvest season—hard to find laborers. Maybe wait until after? And where will the bricks and tiles come from?”

“Waiting is fine—I just wanted to let you know in advance. Don’t worry about the bricks and tiles—I’ve written to Gu Chenghuai. He’ll figure it out.” Lin Zhao had full confidence in her husband; no matter what she wanted, Gu Chenghuai always found a way to grant it.

Gu Fu fell silent.

Asking Third Son—fine.

He trusted Third Son too.

“Alright, I’ll remember. Build it after the double harvest.”

Lin Zhao thanked him: “Thank you, Father.”

Gu Fu said nothing, thinking: If she’d just cause less trouble in the future, that’d be thanks enough.

At that moment, Gu Xing’er returned home.

“Why are you here?” Gu Xing’er glared at Lin Zhao, full of revulsion.

Dacai and Er Zai thought their aunt looked like she wanted to eat them; they hurriedly stepped in front of their mother, watching Gu Xing’er warily.

Lin Zhao placed one hand on each of her sons’ shoulders, drawing them close, and smiled at Gu Xing’er: “This is my home too—I can come whenever I want.”

She casually glanced at the firewood Gu Xing’er had gathered and reminded her: “By the way, you forgot to deliver yesterday’s firewood. Don’t forget to make up for it today.”

“Bang!”

Gu Xing’er threw down the firewood, glaring at Lin Zhao: “Lin Zhao, don’t push your luck.”

Lin Zhao ignored her, turning to Gu Mu, speaking softly: “Mother, you should discipline your daughter—otherwise people will think all Gu daughters are so disrespectful and noisy. The Gu family has more than just her.”

These words reached Gu Dashao and Gu Ershao as they returned; their expressions changed slightly.

They both had daughters; if the Gu family’s reputation was ruined by this little aunt, their own children would suffer too.

“Lin Zhao!” Gu Xing’er gritted her teeth, ready to curse—when Gu Mu snapped: “Xing’er, that’s your third sister-in-law—who taught you to call elders by their names?”

“Go gather more firewood!” she ordered, her eyes full of warning.

Gu Xing’er hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon; even drinking water couldn’t fill her empty stomach. She’d thought gathering firewood would earn her a meal—but then she came home and met Lin Zhao, the omen of misfortune, and burst into tears.

“I’ll tell my third brother…” Her voice cracked with sobs.

“Go ahead,” Lin Zhao said coolly.

She’d already written to her son’s father; Gu Chenghuai was a reasonable man—he’d know whose side to believe.

Gu Mu didn’t want to watch them fight; she told Gu Xing’er: “Xing’er, go gather another bundle of firewood and take it to your third sister-in-law—or you won’t get dinner today.”

Gu Xing’er felt utterly miserable, convinced her life was cursed; she glared at Lin Zhao, then stormed out.

The little aunt harbored clear malice; Lin Zhao didn’t trust leaving the Long Fengtai at the old house. She told Dacai and Er Zai: “Dacai, Er Zai, take your younger siblings home.”

Gu Mu stepped forward, uneasy: “Third Daughter-in-law, what’s going on now?”

“It’s double harvest season—Mother’s busy. I’ll take care of the children myself.” Lin Zhao didn’t say she feared Gu Xing’er’s foolishness might harm her own kids.

Gu Mu: “...” She’s always been busy—how could the third son’s wife just now find out?

“Alright, if anything comes up, send Dacai or Ercai to find me.” Gu Mu couldn’t say more, so she gave this reminder.

Dacai grinned brightly. “My brother and I help our mother take care of the younger ones.”

Ercai nodded along.

Lin Zhao led the children away from the old house. Just as they stepped out, the task bar to the right of the prize wheel flashed and burst into a beautiful firework display.

It read:

[The children’s wish to eat buns has been fulfilled. You have successfully completed the task. Reward: 2 points. Accumulate 8 more points to unlock a prize draw. Go, go, go!]

Lin Zhao knew the task bar existed, but she was lazy—just thinking about completing tasks felt like a hassle, so she never even looked. Who knew it would be this easy?

If it’s this simple, maybe the tasks aren’t so bad after all.

“Mama?” Dacai noticed Lin Zhao frozen in place and called out, puzzled.

Lin Zhao rubbed the top of his head. “Let’s go home.”

“What do you want for lunch?”

Ercai, a child who expressed himself well, ran over at his mother’s words and shouted loudly: “Mama, I want meat!”

At the word “meat,” the Long Fengtai echoed: “Lòu, lòu~~”

Lin Zhao felt something tugging at the hem of her white shirt. She looked down and met two sweet-smiling little faces.

It was Sanzai and Sizai, the ones crying “lòu, lòu.”

“What are you two yelling about? How much meat can you even eat?” Lin Zhao laughed.

The Long Fengtai didn’t understand her words, only giggled, showing their tiny baby teeth.

Seeing his mother was easygoing, Ercai pulled his younger siblings to his side. “Mama, Sanzai and Sizai want meat too.”

Lin Zhao pinched his cheek. “It’s you who wants meat the most, isn’t it?”

Ercai chuckled and grabbed Dacai’s hand. “My brother wants meat too, right, Brother?”

Dacai nodded firmly. “Mm-hmm.”

“Do you want dumplings?” Lin Zhao asked.

Ercai answered the loudest: “Yes!”

Dacai had eaten dumplings during the New Year—made by his grandmother, with radish filling—and he was very curious. He also said: “I want to eat them.”

The Long Fengtai didn’t understand what they were saying, but they cheered along happily.

Lin Zhao led the children home. On the way, they met villagers who stared at them in surprise. After they passed, the villagers couldn’t help whispering.

“Is Chenghuai’s wife alright? She’s actually taking care of the kids?” An old village woman’s face was full of shock.

Another old woman’s gaze lingered on Lin Zhao, unwilling to look away. She muttered sourly: “Who knows? She’s married but still dresses so flashy—more beautiful than any unmarried girl. Who’s she trying to impress?”

The first woman thought that was too harsh—this was slander. “Don’t say things like that! Chenghuai’s wife may be lazy, but she’s a decent woman.”

Seeing the other woman still looked unconvinced, she continued: “Chenghuai’s wife is a military wife. Slandering a military family member is punishable by jail. Watch your tongue.”

The gossiping woman’s heart tightened. She nervously glanced around, and when she saw no one nearby, she relaxed. “I was just joking—don’t go spreading it.”

The woman who had warned her replied coolly: “I’m not one to gossip, but you should be more careful. The Gu family isn’t to be trifled with. If Chenghuai’s mother finds out you’re spreading rumors about her daughter-in-law, she’ll come to your house with a hoe.”

The gossiping woman slapped her own mouth. “I won’t say another word. Not ever again.”

Lin Zhao didn’t know about any of this.

As they neared home, they encountered more of the village’s wandering children.

Tie Niu called out to Dacai and Ercai: “Dacai, Ercai, come play!”

Ercai wanted to play—but he wanted dumplings more.

He said: “Not today. Mama’s going to make dumplings for us, and my brother and I are going to help.”

No sooner had he spoken than Sizai’s soft, baby voice echoed: “B...ang...m...ang...” Each syllable dragged out slowly.