Chapter 82

Qiulian struggled, gripping the doorframe with her hands and hooking her foot around the threshold, wailing loudly, “I won’t go back—Lin’s home is my home.”

Lin Shisheng sneered inwardly.

This woman has always been like this—always like this!

Not a single word out of her mouth is sincere.

“What a joke!”

He sneered, “Stop disgusting people! Qiuxia is your real home—I can’t afford to keep you, you holy statue!”

Too lazy to waste more words on Qiulian, he yanked her arm hard, dragging her down the narrow path.

It was rest time; the road was empty, silent except for the chirping of insects.

Qiulian saw the seriousness in his eyes, turned pale as death, and burst into tears just as she had countless times before, pleading softly.

“Xuanxuan’s father, I know I’m wrong—I won’t go back to my parents’ home. If I do, I’ll have no peace there—I can’t even get enough to eat, just clear broth every day, and I have to do all the chores, and the work points I earn aren’t even mine…”

Work points? This woman in the Lin household didn’t even bother to sweep the floor without dragging her feet—yet now she was eager to earn work points at her parents’ home.

Truly, a good daughter of the Qiu family!

Lin Shisheng’s white teeth ground together with a sharp crack, veins bulging on his temples.

Qiulian continued sobbing pitifully.

“I don’t even have a room at home, no bed—I have to sleep in the kitchen, swarmed by mosquitoes every night. The night before last, I even saw a venomous scorpion! Xuanxuan’s father, I really know I’m wrong—don’t send me back, waaah!”

Lin Shisheng knew full well Qiulian’s situation at her parents’ home.

When they first married, he’d told her plainly: the Qiu family didn’t care for her, treated her as expendable—she shouldn’t cling to her natal home, but focus on their own little family.

She ignored him.

She even suspected him of ill intent—thinking he wanted to sever her ties with her family, isolate her, and let his entire household bully her.

Lin Shisheng was utterly speechless.

This woman’s mind was as dull as a rusted machine—and yet stupid, unable to tell good advice from bad. The faint hope he’d once nurtured to live peacefully with her vanished instantly into ash.

In the end, he thought: who you spend your life with doesn’t matter—just endure it.

But he never imagined—

This woman would dare put a green hat on his head—the very color men despised most.

“Grit-grrr!!” The sound of his grinding teeth grew louder, harsher.

Lin Shisheng’s fury burned hotter, his grip on Qiulian’s arm tightening.

“Ahh!! Lighten up, it hurts!” Qiulian tugged at his hand, crying out in pain.

The tall figure ahead remained unmoved, striding even farther, each step heavy, thick with suppressed rage.

Qiulian sensed something was wrong. She dropped the exaggerated pain on her face, her heart pounding hard several times.

Why is Xuanxuan’s father acting so strange?!

The woman forced a smile, continuing to beg, “I really know I’m wrong—I won’t quarrel with my sister-in-law anymore, won’t covet my little sister-in-law’s things. Forgive me this once.”

Lin Shisheng said nothing, his face like frozen frost.

He didn’t even turn around.

Afraid that if he looked at Qiulian’s face, he’d fly into a rage and kill her.

He had family—two daughters.

This woman wasn’t worth it.

Qiulian had gone days hungry at her parents’ home; today she’d eaten only a sweet potato. Her stomach was empty, limbs weak. Dragged like this, she stumbled, tripping frequently.

If not for her arm being held, she’d have collapsed long ago.

Her throat was parched, lips cracked; finally, she dragged herself forward with barely any strength.

Lin Shisheng dragged her all the way to the Qiu home, exhausted himself—his sweat soaked through his blue cotton shirt.

He shoved open the courtyard gate; the wooden door creaked loudly, startling the Qiu family into turning around.

“...Son-in-law?” Old Qiu squinted his aged eyes, bewildered.

Seeing Lin Shisheng’s icy expression, he felt a chill: something’s wrong?!

He was about to ask what his daughter had done to anger him—when Lin Shisheng coldly said: “Qiulian misses her natal home. I’ve brought her back.”

Just as she was about to ask her daughter what she had done to anger her son-in-law, Lin Shi Sheng coldly said: “Qiulian missed her natal family, so I brought her back.”

He dropped Qiulian’s bundle, turned, and walked away—steps urgent, vanishing in an instant, leaving only a trail of dust.

Old Mrs. Qiu had a thin face, high cheekbones, lips perpetually pursed, corners downturned. She habitually glanced sideways at people, looking unfriendly.

“What did you do now?” she asked, face dark.

Qiulian protested, voice hoarse as a broken gong: “What could I have done? I did nothing!”

“You did nothing, yet you were sent back.” Old Mrs. Qiu glared at her. “Tell the truth—what did you do to make your husband so angry? Speak up. Only then can your father and I help you.”

“You did nothing—you were sent back.” Qiu Laotai glared at her. “Tell the truth—what exactly did you do to make your son-in-law so angry? Speak up, so your father and I can think of a way to help you.”

“I really didn’t do anything.” Qiulian scooped water with a gourd ladle and drank deeply for a long while before regaining her strength.

She said: “My little sister-in-law gave my sister-in-law red dates and brown sugar, but gave me nothing. I got angry and didn’t help cook. That Lin Shisheng—who favors his sister over his wife—refused to let me eat, humiliated me in front of everyone, so I made a scene. That bastard grabbed me and dragged me back here.”

“No one in the Lin family is decent! Not one of them!” Qiulian spat, eyes filled with bitter hatred.

After cursing, she straightened her chest, shoulders thrust back, as if to appear more confident: “I won’t go back on my own this time—unless he comes to fetch me, and apologizes to me.”

The Qiu family’s daughter-in-law’s mouth twitched, eyes wide with the absurdity of a madwoman.

She burst out laughing, mocking: “Big sister, have you forgotten? You only gave birth to two money-losing girls—never even a golden egg for the Lin family. You think Xuanxuan’s father will come for you? How bold of you.”

Qiulian stubbornly insisted: “I can still have children—it’s just fate hasn’t arrived. I gave birth to two girls, so I can give the Lin family a fat, healthy boy.”

“I fear… the fat boy won’t even bear the Lin surname.” The daughter-in-law’s mockery deepened.

A few days ago, when Big Sister stayed at home, she’d rushed back in the middle of the night, disheveled collar, a red mark on her neck, cheeks flushed unnaturally—clearly just finished some illicit act.

She’d been so shocked, her jaw nearly dropped.

She’d known Big Sister was a fool—but never imagined she was also a flirt.

Hard to believe she had energy after a full day’s labor.

Qiulian turned pale, eyes blazing red as she glared at her sister-in-law: “You’re lying! You’re trying to drive me to death!!”

“You know whether I’m lying or not.” The daughter-in-law sneered.

Before Qiulian could reply, she scoffed and strolled off lazily.

Old Mrs. Qiu had just learned of this. Suspicious eyes fell on Qiulian, seeing her nervous expression, the flicker of guilt in her eyes.

She lunged forward and slapped her with a palm as rough as a fan.

The blow spun Qiulian around twice; her dark, thin face swelled instantly.

“You little wretch—did you do something immoral?!” Old Mrs. Qiu jabbed her forehead with fingernails like sawteeth, voice vicious.

“Mother, don’t listen to her—I didn’t do anything to betray the Lin family.” Qiulian hated her sister-in-law with venom.

She wanted to kill her big sister—so cruel, truly so cruel!

Old Mrs. Qiu stared straight into her eyes, jabbing her forehead as she spoke: “You’d better have done nothing! There’s no room for you here—if you’re thrown out, go beg on the streets, don’t bring shame to us!”

The old woman had said her piece. Old Qiu said nothing, his gaze over his daughter laced with disdain.

If she couldn’t even manage her own life, how could she care for them? She was useless—completely useless.

Qiulian didn’t think deeply, didn’t grasp the gravity, didn’t feel her family’s cruelty.

She thought her mother was just worried for her.

“I know—I won’t burden the family. Xuanxuan’s father is just angry now—he’ll come for me in a few days.”

She disliked the two girls, blamed them for her lack of a son—but she also knew those two daughters were her only leverage.

Qiulian carried her bundle to the kitchen, spread straw on the floor as a bed.

She turned to wash the sweat from her face.

Old Mrs. Qiu unceremoniously opened the bundle, rummaged through it, picked out the few clothes with few patches, hung them on her arm, and tossed back the ones covered in mending.

Qiulian returned, saw this, cried out: “Mother, what are you doing?!”

“I’m organizing your clothes. What’s wrong? You’re my daughter—can’t I touch your things?” Old Mrs. Qiu lifted her chin, utterly self-righteous.

She ignored the scattered clothes on the ground, pretending to be a loving mother.

“These few clothes are decent—give them to your brother’s wife. She gave the Qiu family two fat sons—she’s a great contributor. As a big sister, you should give them to her. If I have to remind you, you’re just a waste of food.”

Qiulian rushed forward, wanting to snatch the clothes back but dared not, speaking weakly: “Mother, these are my only two decent clothes—if you take them, what will I wear?”

“What decent clothes do you need? You’ve contributed nothing to the Qiu family.” Old Mrs. Qiu rolled her eyes, crushing her.

The kitchen was dark, no lamp lit—only faint light filtered in.

The old woman’s face was deeply lined, eyelids drooping, expression sour and bitter.

Qiulian lowered her head.

“Where’s the money? When you come back to live with us, your husband won’t leave you with nothing.” Old Mrs. Qiu’s sharp eyes fixed on Qiulian.

Qiulian stammered: “No money—I saved some last time, but you took it. I’ve only been back a few days, haven’t touched any money. Besides, it’s not time for grain or cash distribution yet—our household head probably has nothing either.”

“Smack!” Old Mrs. Qiu grabbed a rolling pin and struck Qiulian’s arm hard.

The blow left Qiulian’s arm red and swollen.

“What do you mean your savings were taken by me? You’re my daughter—you belong to me!” The old woman’s voice brimmed with irritation.

“If you have money, you should hand it over willingly—how dare you make me ask? You think you’ve grown wings now?!”

Qiulian covered her arm and dodged: “I don’t have any—I wanted to give it to you, that’s why I brought it.”

“Then why didn’t you bring a single coin today?” Old Mrs. Qiu sneered, muttering curses: “You’ve come back with just your mouth to eat and sleep for free—what a money-losing wretch, utterly useless.”

"What about today? Why didn’t you bring a single coin?" Old Lady Qiu sneered, muttering curses, "You’ve come back with nothing but a mouth to mooch off your natal family—such a money pit, good for nothing."

After cursing, she ignored her completely and left with the clothes.

The Qiu family were all lazybones; their kitchen had no door, only a greasy black bamboo curtain hanging, the stove filthy and cluttered, flies crawling everywhere, mosquitoes thick.

Compared to the Lin family’s conditions, it was heaven and earth apart.

Qiu Lian lay on the straw pile, mosquitoes buzzing in her ears, keeping her awake—only then did she faintly feel regret.

…

Dusk fell.

Lin Shisheng arrived at the door of a household in the same village as the Qius and knocked loudly.

The one who opened the door was a thin, sharp-eyed young man.

“Shisheng? It’s so late—what are you doing here? Come in.” He stepped aside.

Lin Shisheng shook his head. “No, just two words.”

The young man instantly understood, stepped out of the house, closed the wooden door, and walked with his friend toward the village entrance.

The road was empty; stars and moon appeared, spilling their light everywhere.

The whole village lay draped in a light veil, quiet and beautiful.

The two remained silent.

The young man couldn’t hold back: “… You came today because of the Qiu family?”

“Mm.” Lin Shisheng nodded, eyes lowered, his emotions unreadable.

“I sent Qiu Lian back. Keep an eye on her. This time, I’m sending her to the farm.”

The young man clapped his friend’s shoulder solemnly. “Jianjun and I will take turns watching. As long as she dares—”

“Brother, I’m putting you through hardship.”

Lin Shisheng punched his friend’s shoulder, his eyes filled with relief—as if he’d finally let go. “Stop looking at me with that disgusting pity. It’s no big deal.”

The young man saw he truly didn’t care about Qiu Lian and quietly exhaled.

“That woman isn’t worthy of you. Her character’s terrible. Good riddance.”

Lin Shisheng said nothing. “Good character? She’d crawl back to her benefactor like a beggar.”

…

He sighed deeply. “I was too kind back then. My brain was crushed by a door—I pitied her and married her.”

“I’m the one who’s pitiful!”

Wu Guodong also thought his friend pitiful—why marry a family wrecker, especially one who wasn’t even content to just wreck?

If it were him, he’d be furious to death—he wouldn’t be this calm.

Lin Shisheng pulled a pack of Da Qianmen from his pant pocket, took out a cigarette, stuck it in his mouth, and offered one to Wu Guodong.

Wu Guodong took it dumbfounded, surprised and delighted: “Da Qianmen? Where’d you get this? You’re living well now—you can even smoke Da Qianmen!”

“Click!” A match flared, igniting a small orange flame.

Lin Shisheng cupped his hands, leaned down, the cigarette tip glowing dimly then bright.

He inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly—the white smoke curled and dispersed in the night. Then he said lazily: “My brother-in-law brought it back during his family visit. Also a bottle of Maotai.”

Wu Guodong choked. Suddenly he felt his earlier sympathy was utterly unnecessary.

This kid didn’t need anyone’s pity—he was smoking Da Qianmen and had Maotai.

“Your brother-in-law’s generous to his second brother-in-law,” Wu Guodong muttered enviously.

Hearing this, Lin Shisheng’s eyebrow shot up, his chin lifted slightly, a smile tugging at his lips, tone tinged with pride: “He is generous.”

Wu Guodong didn’t want to see him preening, waved him off.

“Go home already. I don’t want to see you right now—I’m afraid I’ll call Jianjun and the others to beat you up.”

It was indeed late. Lin Shisheng didn’t delay, turned, and strode forward, casually raising his right arm in farewell.

Wu Guodong watched him leave, sniffed the cigarette, carefully tucked it behind his ear, and hummed a tune as he headed home.

Having entrusted someone to watch the Qius, Lin Shisheng felt the heavy stone on his heart lifted—for now, his steps were light on the way back.

He returned to Dongfeng Team.

Pushed open the door.

Lin Xuan and Lin Zheng hadn’t slept; the two girls were curled on bamboo chairs, feeding mosquitoes, heads leaning together, dozing off.

Hearing the faint sound, both sisters snapped awake, turning to the door and standing up.

“Dad, you’re back.” Lin Zheng spoke first, voice still drowsy.

Lin Shisheng locked the door behind him, strode over, frowning at his two daughters. “Why aren’t you asleep? Aren’t you tired?”

Lin Xuan opened her mouth, but swallowed the words, lips turning white from biting.

But Lin Zheng stared straight at her father and suddenly blurted: “Dad, are you going to divorce Mom?”

The words were razor-sharp—a bone-cleaning knife, straight to the point, no turning.

Lin Shisheng was caught off guard, throat bobbing twice before forcing out: “Who told you that?”

“So it’s true.” Lin Zheng said calmly.

Her dark, bright eyes fixed on Lin Shisheng, serious. “Dad, I’m a Lin. I carry the Lin name. I’m staying with you.”

“If you give me to Mom, I’ll go to Fengshou Team to find Auntie—she’ll break your legs!” The girl lifted her chin, lips tight, fists clenched—her words were hard, but her eyes betrayed vulnerability.

Lin Shisheng laughed and sighed.

Was he such a terrible father? They didn’t trust him at all—threatening him with their own aunt.

“I—I want to stay with Dad too,” Lin Xuan’s voice trembled.

“Foolish!” Lin Shisheng patted each girl’s head, heart aching. “What’s your surname? Lin! The Qiu family doesn’t deserve girls as good as you two—you’re staying with Dad.”

Lin Zheng’s lips first pressed together, then couldn’t help curving upward, her tense jaw softening.

“What if the Qiu family insists on taking you?” It was a casual question—but then she remembered the Qius’ ways: snatch them, wait a few years, then collect two dowries. They’d do it.

Lin Zheng clenched her fists tighter. “Dad, if the Qius take me and Sister, they’ll trade us for dowries…”

“You think your dad’s dead?” Lin Shisheng’s fists tightened at the thought alone.

“As long as I’m alive, the Qius won’t dare lay a hand on you. If they do, I’ll take a mob and tear down their house.”

He never lied. Lin Zheng relaxed, her eyes gazing at her father with trust. “Dad, Sister and I rely on you.”

Lin Shisheng felt deeply encouraged. “Don’t worry—I can raise you both alone.”

The two girls had full faith in their father, eyes crinkling with smiles.

In their short lives, all the suffering came from the one who gave them birth. Without her, they’d only be happier.

…

Lin Zhao’s family of six returned home with the night breeze.

On the way back, Er Zai sat on the back seat and could easily see his mother riding with his younger siblings.

He lifted his sun-bright face, eyes sparkling, voice cheerful: “Mom, I’m so happy—can I sing?”

Lin Zhao turned her head, lips curving gently. “Of course. Then we’ll have our little singer.”

Er Zai perked up instantly, gripping the hem of Gu Chenghuai’s military uniform, his pink-and-white face serious.

“Mom, I’ll sing ‘The Train Heads Toward Shaoshan.’”

He cleared his throat, his childish voice soaring in the wind.

“Woo, rumble-rumble rumble-rumble

Wheels spin, whistle cries,

The train heads toward Shaoshan,

Through mountains, across rivers,

Facing thousands of rays of dawn,

Hey, facing thousands of rays of dawn,

…”

The child’s voice was clear, like a joyful lark, bursting with energy.

After finishing, the boy looked expectantly at his mother, face begging for praise.

Lin Zhao obliged: “Beautiful, Er Zai sings wonderfully—full of energy, clearly a lovely, lively little boy. How did such an outstanding child come to be? So wonderful!”

Er Zai loved hearing his mother praise him.

His eyes shone like little suns, his grin impossible to suppress.

Lin Zhao didn’t overlook the quiet, well-behaved Da Zai. Her smiling eyes turned to him: “Da Zai, can you sing this too?”

“...Yes.” Da Zai pressed his lips, revealing a shy smile.

Lin Zhao encouraged him: “Then sing it for Mom another day, okay?”

“Mm.” Da Zai replied.

Gu Chenghuai let out a soft laugh. “Sang well. You could be a cultural soldier someday.”

Both boys puffed out their chests, proud.

Er Zai asked the most important question: “Dad, what’s a cultural soldier? Do they earn money?”

Da Zai’s eyes were serious. “Can cultural soldiers fly planes?”

…

Laughing and chatting, the family of six returned to Fengshou Team after over half an hour.

Xiao Tiechui and Da Huanghuang waited at the village entrance.

“Third Uncle, Third Auntie, Da Zai, Er Zai…” He called each name clearly. “Big Aunt is back home!”