Chapter 65: The Split, the Split, the Split, the Split, the Split

«???»

In the instant Lin Zhao’s mind filled with a string of question marks, she looked closer and saw a line of explanation beneath the four characters.

After reading it, her expression turned oddly complicated.

«Tiny pill, specifically for curing love-struck stupidity.»

«No additives, no side effects, refreshing taste, reminiscent of mint.»

«Worried your child is a lickspittle, love-struck, a slave to romance—making their father anxious, their mother frustrated, their grandparents weep uncontrollably?»

«Come, come, give them this pill—one pill for life, raise a clear-headed, independent, well-rounded child—you deserve it.»

Lin Zhao: «...» She had the distinct feeling this pill was somehow targeting her kids.

After all.

In the original novel.

Dacai, Ercai, and Sicao were all... not particularly clear-headed.

The description of the pill lingered for a long while.

Lin Zhao felt a cold, mocking laugh and was momentarily speechless; she clicked to extract it, stored it in her storage ring, and decided out of sight, out of mind.

Then she drew again.

«Advanced dog food × 500 jin.»

«Tastes amazing, favorite of canines.»

«Friendly reminder: this dog food has magical effects—explore them yourself.»

Lin Zhao: «...» Now they’re being mysterious about it!

Both draws were mediocre, but both useful.

What she truly wanted was a scar-removing or lightening ointment—children’s skin is tender, and she feared Ercai’s tooth marks would never fade.

After these two draws, she had only 58 points left.

Back to square one.

Lin Zhao didn’t dare stir further; she lay down quietly, hugging Sicao and closed her eyes.

The people in the Gu family’s old compound fell asleep; faint light leaked from the Wei family’s second branch’s room.

The two stones, wearing patched little pants, snored loudly, occasionally scratching at itchy spots where mosquitoes bit them, half-asleep.

Skin untouched by the sun bore red scratches from their dog-chewed nails.

«Light more mugwort—the two stones won’t sleep well if they keep getting bitten.» Gu Chan paused her matchbox pasting, massaged her brow with the back of her hand, and glanced sideways at Wei Xiangdong, lowering her voice.

After three straight hours of work, her eyes were dry, unable to produce a single tear.

She blinked her stinging eyes shut, opened them, shut them again, opened them again—repeating several times to ease the fatigue.

Wei Xiangdong stood up, lit mugwort in the room, focusing especially around his wife.

Half a minute later.

Gu Chan sighed and reminded him again, «Light some near the boys too.»

Wei Xiangdong frowned.

«What’s there to fear from mosquitoes? Those two sleep like dead pigs—no bite could wake them.»

Was this the reaction of a proper father?

Even though she long knew her husband’s nature, Gu Chan still choked on her words.

«Are you going to light it or not?» She glared.

Wei Xiangdong stared steadily at his wife; after a few seconds, he looked away and obediently went to light mugwort beside the bed.

Those brats had thick skin and tough flesh—they weren’t little girls; why bother with mugwort? So dramatic.

He waved the mugwort half-heartedly, then sat back beside his wife.

Gu Chan guessed it was late; she glanced at him and said, «Why don’t you sleep first? I’ll finish these matchboxes and then rest.»

Wei Xiangdong ignored her and joined her in pasting matchboxes.

He hated manual labor—sitting still for such tedious tasks made him prefer hunting in the mountains or even working the fields.

But Wei Xiangdong couldn’t bear to let his wife do it all alone.

So he volunteered to learn from Gu Chan; he ruined one at first and earned a glare, but eventually mastered it!

«Isn’t your third sister-in-law saying it’s not urgent?» Wei Xiangdong yawned casually. «You’re not planning to finish all these tonight, are you?»

«But we have to finish them if we can.» Gu Chan whispered back, her voice hoarse.

She patted the pile of remaining materials. «Finish this stack and then sleep.»

Rare chance to earn money—just starting, shouldn’t she show her best?

Lin Zhao worked hard to get this opportunity.

«Why don’t you sleep first? I’ll finish these.» Wei Xiangdong felt for his wife.

Gu Chan shook her head. «We’ll do it together—finish sooner, sleep sooner.»

Wei Xiangdong said nothing more, lowered his head, and worked faster.

When they finally finished and lay down, they were dizzy, their waist, neck, and arms aching as if ready to flee the body.

So exhausted, they obviously couldn’t wake on time in the morning.

Rural folks slept early and rose early.

Just after five, doors opened in every room, footsteps gradually emerging.

Wei’s mother glanced at the tightly shut door of the second branch’s room, frowned, said nothing, and carried a wooden basin to wash clothes.

«Lazybones! A whole house of lazybones!» Wei’s eldest daughter-in-law muttered under her breath toward the second branch’s room.

Knowing her younger brother was inside, she dared not be bold—only vented her frustration verbally.

A clear boy’s voice came from behind.

«Shall I call out my father and mother? Big Aunt, if you have something to say, say it to their faces.» Da Shitou’s tone revealed no emotion.

He stood there, dark eyes fixed on Wei’s eldest daughter-in-law, his face expressionless.

Xiao Shitou stood behind his brother, peeked at Big Aunt, then immediately withdrew his gaze.

With his father home, he wasn’t afraid of Big Aunt’s harshness; the little boy bolstered himself, fists clenched.

Wei’s eldest daughter-in-law jumped, opened her mouth to curse—when a wooden door creaked open a meter behind her.

«After you pee, why don’t you come back? Do I have to fetch you?» Wei Xiangdong leaned against the doorframe, eyeing the two stones.

«No need, we’re coming.» Da Shitou ignored Big Aunt, walked calmly toward his father; Xiao Shitou followed.

Back inside.

Wei Xiangdong told his sons to keep away from the bed so they wouldn’t wake his wife; he lowered his voice and asked, «What did that woman say now?»

«She called us a whole house of lazybones.» Da Shitou complained.

«Damn!» Wei Xiangdong swore.

Who the hell was a lazybone?!

Achan was far more diligent than that troublemaker!

«Fine. Before we split up, you two can do whatever you want—nothing’s required. Whoever wants to do chores, do them.» He was furious.

«Split up?» Da Shitou’s eyes lit up instantly, his tone hopeful.

Wei Xiangdong clamped his hand over his mouth, glanced at the bed—his wife hadn’t woken—and released his troublesome son.

«What?! You don’t want to split?» he teased.

«How could I not want to!» Da Shitou spat twice, clearing the salty sweat taste from his mouth, glaring at his father like a little wolf ready to scratch him.

He held back, pressing: «When are we splitting?!»

Xiao Shitou also had questions, sat beside his father, furrowed his small brow: «Father, where will we live if we split?»

Wei Xiangdong pinched Xiao Shitou’s bony cheek—no flesh, dry and hard, not fun to squeeze.

They needed to split soon—hunt some meat. These two brats were too thin; would they even grow tall? He worried.

«Once we split, we won’t live in any ‘house’—we’ll move out.»

Xiao Shitou, gentle by nature, endured his father’s pinching without protest, only gazing at Wei Xiangdong with wide, clear, lake-like eyes, pitifully.

Da Shitou couldn’t stand it; he rescued his soft brother, shot a silent glare at his father: «Father, where can we move to? You’re not planning to put us in the cowshed, are you?»

Before Wei Xiangdong could answer, he fired another question: «Do we have any money?»

Wei Xiangdong eyed him. «You’re asking whether we’ll have money left to send you two to school after we move out, aren’t you?»

Da Shitou’s face turned serious, argued with his father: «I want to go to school for the family too!»

«You didn’t even finish primary school—you’re stuck like this for life.»

«I’m different. Mother says I’m smart, I can learn—if I study hard, I can change my fate.»

«When I gain skills, I’ll take Mother to the city.»

He’d heard city folks live in apartment buildings, eat meat several times a month, and women never work the fields.

He would take his mother to the city—no matter what.

«Thud!»

Da Shitou took a blow to the forehead; he clutched the spot, gritted his teeth, furious enough to run away.

«Disrespectful brat.» Wei Xiangdong scolded his son, feeling zero guilt.

What did he mean by “you’re stuck like this for life”? He was barely thirty—his life was barely halfway over!

«Relax. I promised your mother: any child of hers who wants to study, can study—keep studying as long as they want.»

He could afford it.

“My brother and I have benefited from Mother’s luck,” Big Stone said to his father in a mocking tone.

Wei Xiangdong didn’t catch it; he looked at him with an expression that said, “Good, at least you know your place,” “Then you two must be filial, or else…”

He shook his fist, as big as a sandbag.

Big Stone sneered, “...” Dad is so childish!

Little Stone mumbled, “...Dad is so mean!”

At noon, Wei Mother finally learned that the second son’s family hadn’t gone to work; she calculated the lost work points in her head and felt a sharp pang of grief.

She pounded on the second son’s door.

Wei Xiangdong opened the door, yawning and slouching.

“Mom, what are you doing? Knock if you must, but why hit so hard? You break the door, I have to fix it. What do you want? If it’s nothing, I’m going back to sleep.”

What?

You’re still sleeping?!

Wei Mother punched her son, shouting, “Sleep?! The sun’s already on your butt and you’re still sleeping!”

“If you don’t earn work points, what will you eat? What will you drink? Get up, get dressed, and come work with me this afternoon.”

“No,” Wei Xiangdong cut off his mother’s nagging.

“Big Sister says our whole family is lazy. Since she says that, we might as well lie down.” He spread his hands, indifferent and defiant.

Wei Mother choked on her anger, cursing her eldest daughter-in-law in her heart.

“Her nature is like that—why do you care what she says...”

Before she finished, Wei Xiangdong interrupted listlessly, “I have a short temper. I can’t take being wronged. I won’t go. I won’t go. I won’t go. Even if I starve, I won’t go.”

He fell silent.

He turned and walked back inside, shutting the door casually.

Wei Mother pushed hard against the door, shouting, “Then what do you want to do, huh? I can’t control you if you want to act however you like, but don’t corrupt Ah Chan and the two Stones!”

“I want to split the family. Tonight.” Wei Xiangdong stated his purpose.

He looked at his mother. “I can’t take it anymore! Not one day more. Not one day without splitting. I won’t go to work. My wife won’t go. The two Stones won’t go. We’ll just eat free meals and be lazy.”

Wei Mother froze.

Even half a year was too long for the second son to endure?

“Didn’t we agree to wait until year-end?”

Wei Xiangdong was in a bad mood, his tone harsher. “It’s not that I can’t endure—it’s that some people deserve a beating. If you don’t want this household to be in chaos every day, split now.”

My wife agreed I could go into the mountains! If I hadn’t cared about letting the first family benefit, I’d have come home long ago with rabbits in one hand and chickens in the other!

His disgusted gaze swept over the first family’s door as he continued without pause: “If not for you, Mother, I would’ve moved out with my wife and children five years ago!”

“This life... it’s meaningless.”

He was sick of Wei Big Sister constantly picking fights with his wife, and his own brother, who pretended to be dead and let his wife run wild.

And then—

At night, when I want to do something private, those two cold, stiff Stones stand there, watching me—annoying as hell!

Wei Mother had no idea of the hidden thoughts behind Wei Xiangdong’s irritated face.

She knew the eldest daughter-in-law was annoying, but she wanted her children and grandchildren close by.

Once the family split, things would be different.

“Dong...”

Wei Xiangdong made a stop gesture. “Call me Xi, it won’t help. I want to split the family.”

Playing the victim was useless. Wei Mother’s expression turned awkward; she dropped her pitiful gaze. “Fine. Split tonight. Split you all out.”

She glared at her son fiercely. “I can’t control this unfilial son of mine, and I don’t want to. But make sure the two Stones come back often.”

“Or you can let them stay.” Wei Xiangdong scoffed, but his expression was serious, hopeful.

Wei Mother’s lips twitched. She said nothing, turned, and walked away.

The old woman ran off quickly.

Split, split, split, split, split—split now.

The next morning.

Early that morning, after washing up, Lin Zhao headed to the kitchen to boil some noodles for breakfast, but met Huang Xiulan coming toward her, holding freshly made fried eggs.

“Third sister-in-law, you like my fried eggs, don’t you? Try these—see if they still taste the same.” She rinsed the chopsticks and handed Lin Zhao the bowl and chopsticks together.

Convenient—no need to cook again.

“Thank you, Big Sister.”

Lin Zhao sat down and ate. Two fried eggs floated in the bowl. The broth was special—Huang Xiulan’s secret recipe: sesame oil, with a few green vegetables as garnish.

Delicious and pretty.

She nodded in satisfaction.

Huang Xiulan smiled and quickly warmed the corn cakes.

The Gu family ate lightly in the morning: half a coarse grain cake each, a sip of water, and the morning was over, waiting for lunch.

Grain was scarce—if they ate like last night’s meal for all three meals, the grain jars would be empty!

Lin Zhao finished her broth quickly. Tie Dan rushed over to take the bowl. Seeing the greasy surface, his mouth stretched wide.

She knew his thought—he wanted to pour water into the bowl and drink the egg yolk as soup.

“Don’t pour water!” Lin Zhao stopped him.

Tie Dan’s eyes instantly lost their light. He hugged the bowl, pleading softly, “Third Aunt, pretend you didn’t see it.”

They’d eaten well last night, but it had all digested by now. His stomach was still empty. A child who rarely got good food was naturally greedy.

“No,” Lin Zhao said gently, the coldest words Tie Dan could hear. His head drooped. “But it’s such a waste.”

Tie Dan stared at the scraps in the bowl, wishing he could lick them.

Lin Zhao couldn’t bear it. Their usual habits didn’t matter—but he couldn’t eat her saliva. She couldn’t accept that.

“Don’t eat it. I’ll ask your mother to boil you some noodles and give each of you a fried egg.”

Worried Tie Dan would pretend to obey but sneak a bite, she added, “If you don’t listen, you get nothing.”

Tie Dan tore his eyes from the bowl, licked his lips, and rushed over. “Really?”

He gestured excitedly with his hands. “The thin, long white noodles? The kind Big Stone and Second Stone talked about?!”

Tie Dan was seven, at the age when he could eat everything. With so many children in the Gu family, they couldn’t be fed full. It wasn’t his fault he craved even dog food.

He was thin, his face sunken, and because he ran wild all over the hills searching for food, his skin was dark and gleaming.

“Yes,” Lin Zhao said softly.

Tie Dan shoved the bowl into his mother’s hands, staring at Lin Zhao with wide, hopeful eyes. “Third Aunt?”

He hadn’t licked the bowl—where were the noodles? Could he eat them yet?!

Huang Xiulan, seeing how hungry he was, pinched his ear.

“Third sister-in-law, ignore this boy. At his age, when his stomach’s empty, he eats everything and still cries hunger. Don’t bother. The morning will fly by.”

At least in the Gu family, they got seven-tenths full. Other village kids got only five-tenths.

Tie Dan nearly cried.

Is it so hard to get one bite of white noodles?!

The seven-year-old boy stared anxiously at Third Aunt, his hands clasped tight, breath nearly stopped.

Don’t think it’s exaggerated—those who’ve never tasted white noodles are desperately hungry for them!

Lin Zhao chuckled. She handed the noodles to Huang Xiulan. “Boil them. Today’s my first day back in the old house—I’m treating the children.”

Hearing this, Tie Dan jumped up and down. “Thank you, Third Aunt! I’ll wash Big Stone and Second Stone’s clothes today!”

The twins had said yesterday they’d wash clothes—they hadn’t had time when they moved, so they planned to do it today.

“Good,” Lin Zhao smiled. “Thanks for helping, Tie Dan.”

“Washing clothes isn’t hard,” he said. “Working the fields is hard.”

Watching his mother boil the noodles, Tie Dan ran off to call the others.

Lin Zhao returned to the room to fetch a few eggs for Big Sister, then, seeing the time, pushed her bicycle out the door to go to work.

The Gu children, who had noodles for breakfast the moment they woke, were nearly fainting with happiness.

White noodles.

Real white noodles—not a speck of black flour. Take one big slurp—it’s so fragrant you want to cry. Is this really food meant for humans?!

“White noodles are this delicious? Grandma, when can we eat them every day?” Tie Dan savored the broth, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

Gu Mother didn’t know—everyone wanted to eat white noodles every day.

She didn’t crush their hopes. “Study hard. Become a high school student like your Third Aunt, get state rations, and you can eat them every day.”

The Gu children memorized those words.

Especially Bang Bang.

He was about to enter fifth grade. Before, he hadn’t cared about school, always scoring average.

He hadn’t fully understood how education could change his fate—until Third Aunt became a city person. Suddenly, he awakened. He flipped through books in his free time, night after night, leaving Gu Yucheng and Zhao Liuniang stunned.

“Bang Bang,” Gu Mother remembered something and asked, “I heard from your Third Aunt you’ll take the junior high entrance exam next year?”

Bang Bang nodded. “Yes. The government issued a document: the school system will change to ‘five-two-two’—five years elementary, two years junior high, two years senior high.”

Gu Mother thought it through. “So total, nine years of school.”

“Right,” Bang Bang said.

He wanted to get to high school, at the very least to junior high; Third Aunt was right—education was a key to the door.

Factories hiring workers would screen out most applicants by education level; they all required junior or senior high graduation.

Gu Mu did a quick mental calculation: raising each child through high school would be a substantial sum.

She dared not think, dared not think deeply.