Chapter 411

After a very awkward wedding ceremony finally ended, all the relatives and friends who attended felt the gift money was well worth it—this kind of drama was worth chatting about with family back home for half the night.

But who could have expected that the wedding rites were just the appetizer—there was still more to come, enough to leave you utterly stuffed.

"I came here just to deliver my granddaughter. Since she's already completed the wedding rites, she's officially joined the Yang family."

"But this old man can't help but worry, so I just want to give her a few final words. I hope all you relatives and friends will grant me one more minute."

After the wedding rites concluded, Li Zhongfa bowed to the crowd, then turned a "severe" gaze toward Li Yue.

"Xiao Yue, now that you've become a Yang family daughter-in-law, you must act like one—you can't keep behaving as you did when you were a girl. You must care for every elder in this household."

"For instance, these two."

Li Zhongfa pointed to Yang Yumin's biological parents, then paused, embarrassed: "Excuse me, may I ask your surnames?"

What the hell? You're asking us our surnames in front of all these people? You're the grandfather of the bride—don't you already know who we are?

Just say we're outsiders outright, would you?

If Li Zhongfa hadn't shown up, those two old folks would've already stormed off in a huff—but Li Zhongfa is one generation above them. Dare you put on the airs of an elder to set rules for the new daughter-in-law?

Even scolding Yang Yumin won't work! His adoptive mother is still holding that photo frame! His adoptive father is right here—what are you, a mere biological parent who never raised him, doing bullying people here?

"No need for formalities—we're surnamed Jia. Li Laoshu, you don't need to worry. Now that Xiao Yue has entered our home, if she doesn't understand something, we'll surely guide her."

The old Jia man smiled broadly, assuring Li Zhongfa not to worry—but Li Zhongfa's gaze subtly sharpened.

This old Jia was speaking with hidden meaning.

Your granddaughter's married in now—watch yourself.

Divorce now is terrible for women; unlike decades later, where failing to split tens of thousands in assets would be a massive loss.

Li Zhongfa gave a strange smile, then continued advising Li Yue: "Whether it's the Yang mother or the Jia father-in-law, you must support them in their old age."

"In the future, you two must carefully budget your household expenses. Even if life gets hard, you must set aside eight yuan every month and send it back to the Jia elders as their pension."

Many present were stunned upon hearing Li Zhongfa's words.

Most of them, aside from a few locals, were workers who'd come to Beijing from elsewhere—each had parents and relatives back home, and each sent money home regularly.

But sending money? That's easier said than done.

Don't think eight yuan a month is nothing—in 1984's countryside, not every elder received support from their children.

And this eight yuan is monthly, yearly—what if you can't scrape together the money one month? Back then, couples fought over sending money home all the time.

So household matters like this shouldn't be settled publicly—it invites gossip.

But Li Yue lifted her head and said firmly: "Grandpa, don't worry. Starting next month, even if I have to eat bran and chaff, I'll send them eight yuan every month—no less."

"Clap, clap, clap, clap."

Suddenly, applause broke out.

Everyone turned—and saw Director Yang gently clapping.

Though Yang Yumin had only briefly greeted him today without explaining the relationship between his adoptive mother and biological parents, his boss could still guess some of the truth.

This kind of situation was tricky—handle it poorly, and people would judge his character.

But now the bride had settled it decisively—at least she'd claimed the moral high ground.

They're already ensuring the elderly are cared for—what more do you want?

Don't say eight yuan is small—how much does a new worker earn monthly? How much can they even send their parents?

With this eight yuan, even if someone gossips, Director Yang can back his subordinate.

Seeing Director Yang clap, what were they waiting for? Quickly follow suit!

So applause erupted loudly, offered to Li Yue, this open-minded and generous daughter-in-law.

But after the applause faded, Li Zhongfa smiled and said: "You don't need to start sending money next month."

"Our country has rules: men are considered unfit for labor at sixty, women at fifty-five. You can wait a few years. Once both your in-laws reach retirement age, then it's strict—every cent must be paid, no exceptions."

The crowd fell silent again—many first stared, then laughed, looking at the Jia family with complex expressions.

Li Yue, watching her grandfather's smile, could barely hold back her own.

She was a bright, spirited girl—how could she suppress such laughter?

Eight yuan a month, only after they hit retirement age? He could save enough just by buying fewer high heels for Pei Wenhui and Xiao Ruo each year—enough to support those two old bastards till their deaths.

"I understand, Grandpa. I'll follow the state's rules."

To hell with your state rules!

Li Ye stood among the crowd, unable to resist giving Old Li a thumbs-up.

In this situation, sweeping the Jia family out with a broom was impossible—it'd cause terrible fallout.

So we follow the state's rules—who can say otherwise?

In the countryside, there's no such thing as retirement age—seventy-year-old men still work the fields, eighty-year-olds still rise at dawn to collect manure!

So my granddaughter pays you eight yuan a month once you're old enough—how much more do you want?

How much does a steamed bun cost now?

If you still complain, you're just ungrateful.

Li Ye glanced at the Jia family—hmm, they really seemed determined to be ungrateful.

Since Li Zhongfa is laying down the rules, don't be ungrateful—after all, the old man's been enforcing rules since he was fifteen, following the army for decades.

But money is most likely to cloud a person's judgment.

Old Jia saw Li Zhongfa about to lock in his entire future income—he couldn't accept it.

Eight yuan a month wasn't satisfying, but at least it showed intent—now you delay payment until retirement? You're pushing us off for years—by then, who'll remember today?

"Li Master, you misunderstand us. We're not here for pension money—we came to Beijing to live with Yumin."

The courtyard had been silent for a long time, but everyone's heart burned with gossip.

Especially the gossipy women, tiptoeing to catch the expressions of the "main characters."

Li Zhongfa's expression was especially vivid.

He looked at the Jia couple—first surprised, then speechless, finally a fleeting look of contempt.

"You two want to come to Beijing and live with the young couple? Did you discuss this with the children?"

"Li Master, this is our family matter—you're an elder, please don't bring it up on such a happy day. Besides, we couldn't have discussed it before—Xiao Yue was an outsider until she married in."

Old Jia's face flushed, yet he stood firm, even subtly challenging Li Zhongfa—as if to say: this is our business, none of your concern.

But Li Zhongfa wouldn't fall for the trap—he snapped: "What kind of talk is this?"

"After marriage, husband and wife are one. Yumin's money is Xiao Yue's, Xiao Yue's money is Yumin's. If you come to live with them, why wouldn't you need to consult my granddaughter?"

"Why must you come to Beijing to live with the young couple? Do you expect my granddaughter to serve you? We're in a new society—this isn't allowed anymore!"

Old Jia's face flushed crimson.

Li Zhongfa's words were brutally direct—as if slapping a label of "lazy, greedy, selfish" onto the Jia couple.

But Li Zhongfa was a senior elder—now wasn't the time to retort, especially since he'd already secured the eight-yuan pension.

Though discussing money here was inappropriate, Li Zhongfa had subtly planted the idea that the Jia family was money-hungry.

After this chain of questions and suggestions, everyone felt the old man was perfectly reasonable.

Forget the row of cars outside—the motorcycle tied with red silk in the courtyard had made the young men especially envious.

This was Li Yue's dowry—though delivered earlier, Yang Huaibai had placed it prominently, wrapped in fresh silk with a big bow, to show respect to the bride.

Eight yuan a month for pension—that's only ninety-six yuan a year. This motorcycle alone cost decades' worth. Could you, Old Jia, truly accept that?

But it's the bride's dowry! According to the ancient Huaxia tradition of "three letters, six rites," you can't spend it without her consent.

Of course, under that same tradition, if the couple divorces, the bride-price must be returned to the groom's family.

"Li Master, you're wronging us," the old Jia woman cried.

"Yumin is our biological son! We didn't raise him for over ten years—we just want to come care for him, make up for lost time!"

"Why are you slandering us? I might as well hang myself now, wuhuhu…"

Crying, screaming, threatening suicide—no one could stand this tactic.

The old Jia woman's outburst threatened to turn the wedding into chaos.

The Jia family had been advised by a schemer—they counted on Yang Yumin's public position and his fear of moral scandal.

Li Zhongfa, having spent years in the system, understood this perfectly.

So Li Zhongfa sighed: "Even if you want to live in Beijing, who will farm your land?"

The old Jia woman wiped her tears and muttered: "We don't need to farm—we get little grain anyway. We just want to live with our child."

Li Zhongfa's lips twitched slightly, revealing a mocking look.

"You don't need to farm? That's breaking the rules. Farming is your state-assigned duty."

"Don't look down on agricultural household status. Our ancestors said: 'Food is heaven.' Scholars, farmers, artisans, merchants—farmers rank second."

"Even now, we say 'farmer brothers' and 'worker elders.' Your role in farming is even more vital than the worker elders."

Li Zhongfa spoke seriously: "Farming is a vital state policy for national stability. If you abandon your land, refuse to pay grain taxes, and let fields lie fallow—what happens? People starve."

Hearing this massive accusation, the old Jia woman hurriedly replied: "We're not refusing to farm—we're just not farming ourselves. We'll hire someone else—we won't let the land go to waste!"

But Li Zhongfa glared, unleashing the authority of a senior official at a meeting.

"Hire someone else? That's shirking your state-assigned duty and responsibility! Yumin works in propaganda—you can't tarnish his reputation. Ask your leader if you don't believe me."

Today, Li Zhongfa's strategy was clear: use his seniority to say what others couldn't, and override human sentiment with law.

You come with moral blackmail? I'll show you that state law outweighs family sentiment.

Director Yang glanced at Li Zhongfa, thinking: Old comrade, your instant noodles weren't given for nothing—you dragged me in to help.

Still, Director Yang slowly and seriously said: "Indeed, agricultural production is vital. Ensuring it is a fundamental state policy we cannot ignore."

Yang Yumin, who'd been quietly listening to his wife, looked up in surprise—just as Director Yang turned to look at him.

Director Yang smiled faintly at Yang Yumin, instantly easing most of the worry that had gripped him all night.

What kind of happiness is it to have a leader willing to back up his subordinates?

When Yang Yumin turned to look at Li Zhongfa, his moist eyes spilled over with tears.

This wasn't just about having a wife who fully supported him—this was his entire family helping him resolve his troubles!

Although Li Ye had once scowled at Yang Yumin for marrying his sister, when real trouble came, Li Ye had even mobilized his grandfather.

So today's matter was essentially over; no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't stir up much more trouble.

But the eldest sister-in-law of the Jia family still couldn't swallow her anger: "What about Yang Huaihua? Why did she give up agricultural production? Isn't that slandering my brother Yumin?"

Everyone couldn't help but shake their heads—this kind of relentless nagging was simply beneath dignity.

But at that moment, everyone heard Yang Yujiao softly say: "Our family is a distinguished household; the village has always helped us farm our land."

Well then, though Yang Yujiao always seemed weak and meek, she could strike with lethal precision when it mattered.

Families of martyrs have special privileges; Yang Huaihua's husband died in service, and their only male relative went off to school—how could the village committee not help with farming? What kind of awareness would the village chief have then?

No matter how you spin it, this is perfectly justified—why don't you all become martyrs and try it yourselves?

Seeing his wife being rebuked, Jia's eldest son immediately scowled: "You little girl, when did you get the right to speak here? Go stand over there."

Yang Yumin, who had held back for so long, could no longer contain himself: "Why doesn't she have the right? For over ten years we've been on the same household register."

"We grew up relying on each other. To save money for my schooling, she dropped out of junior high for a year and delayed high school by another year—who says my affairs aren't hers?"

"This family really has it hard—I'm moved just listening."

"That's right. When they first arrived, that little sister went out every day to gather firewood; her hands were cracked from the cold, yet she never stopped—clearly someone used to hardship."

Hearing the murmurs around him, Old Jia could no longer control his emotions.

He angrily pointed at Yang Yumin: "You're related to her? You're not related to me? You don't even share the same surname—you share mine!"

The whispering stopped. Everyone had the feeling this gossip drama had a sequel.

Li Zhongfa was also stunned: "You're planning to—"

As a grandfather, Li Zhongfa found some things too delicate to say outright, so he trailed off and glanced at Li Ye.

My good grandson, it's your turn now, you reckless fool.

Li Ye immediately exclaimed: "What? You're going to take Yang Yumin's surname? Are you trying to change Jia to Yang? Can you even do that?"

Old Jia glared at Li Ye, teeth clenched.

Are you an idiot? Do you think someone my age would change from Jia to Yang? What about our ancestors' honor?

Jia's eldest son had to step forward and explain: "We checked—it's allowed to change surnames, but we're not changing to Yang. We want Yumin to change his surname to Jia."

As the saying goes: 'Leaves fall back to their roots; one must recognize one's ancestors. Those who don't recognize their ancestors are unfilial; those who are unfilial have bad character; those with bad character—'

Everyone gasped: "Wow."

In front of so many people, the Jia family had laid all their cards on the table.

This wasn't about the eight yuan a month—it was a scheme to steal the cow and pull up the post, aiming to snatch the child too!

But the moment Jia's eldest son finished speaking, Li Ye sneered: "Pfft."

"I'm young, but don't try to fool me—I've studied Chinese traditions carefully. Our ancestors long ago had the practice of adoption."

"Yang Yumin grew up with the Yang family—he's their child, meant to carry on their lineage. And the household register proves it!"

"Yang Yumin's household registration has always been Yang since childhood; his school records are Yang; his work files are Yang."

"You just open your mouth and expect to erase all that history? Do you think your tongue is that powerful—or do you think official rules are worthless?"

"Are you just tired of the eight yuan a month and planning to make Yang Yumin hand over his salary to you?"

"Then first tell my sister: how much have you paid the Yang family in child-rearing fees over the past ten years? Otherwise, Yang Yumin's salary isn't yours to control."

Li Ye stood with hands in his pockets, gazing up at a forty-five-degree angle, rolling his eyes as he rattled off a long stream of words—his tone, his cadence, utterly begging to be punched.

Yeah, Li Ye thought he'd performed excellently—he'd already reached seventy or eighty percent of the skill of a certain professional lawyer.

In the future, if Hu Renqiang's movies ever need a masked vigilante role, Li Ye decided he'd audition, gather some big-name actors to support him, fight ten men at once, and make a glorious mess of it.

Old Jia was stunned—truly stunned.

He never imagined that in this setting, the conversation would still come down to "money."

Had he given Yang Huaihua even a single coin in the past ten or twenty years, he could've argued today.

But the problem was—he hadn't given a single cent.

Li Zhongfa glanced around the courtyard and felt the timing was right; push further and it would burn out.

So he turned to the matchmaker, Li Ganshi: "Why don't we start the banquet? Letting so many guests stand here staring is poor hospitality, isn't it?"

Li Ganshi immediately replied: "Today you're the most honored guest. If you say we sit, we sit."

Li Ganshi quickly coordinated with the surrounding groups, even making sure the Jia family wasn't ignored.

Old Jia agreed too—he saw Yang Yumin was furious, and the guests' glances were painfully humiliating. He needed a way to retreat, rest, and regroup.

But he didn't realize Li Ye had no intention of letting them off after one round.

You think it's over? Hehehe, you really underestimate me—I've been topping the headlines for years.

Li Ye was thinking about how to deal with the Jia family, but Li Zhongfa was thinking the exact same thing.

The Yang family's wedding banquet had barely begun when Li Zhongfa called Li Yue over.

"I've figured it out—those Jias are like sticky plaster; they'll do anything to stay in Beijing. This matter falls to you, Xiao Yue—you must find a way to drive them out."

Li Yue blinked, then, angry and frustrated, said: "Grandpa, how can they be so sneaky? And I—I just got married. You just told me in front of everyone to be patient, to treat them well—why are you making me the villain now?"

"You silly girl, don't you get it? Those words were for outsiders. This villain role must be yours."

Li Zhongfa lowered his voice and whispered advice to Li Yue: "Yumin just started his job—this is the most critical time. He must maintain his reputation. Even if he suffers, you must urge him to swallow it."

"But you're different—what daughter-in-law hasn't argued with her in-laws? It's normal. Even if it reaches his workplace, it's no big deal. And today, Grandpa has already laid the groundwork for you—what are you afraid of?"

Li Yue, straightforward by nature, frowned: "But Grandpa, I don't know how to bully people. Why not just pick a fight with them? I'll beat them and drive them out."

"Tsk."

Director Li sighed in disgust: "Fighting is low-class. Fine—I'll have your grandmother stay in Beijing for a few days. She'll teach you properly."

Li Yue widened her eyes, disbelieving: "My grandma knows how to do this?"

"Pfft," Li Zhongfa said. "Do you think I've weathered all these storms alone? Your grandmother's an expert at playing both the good cop and the bad cop."

At that moment, Li Ye quietly sidled over, grinning wickedly: "Older sister, don't stress. Learn from Grandma first—I'll think of more tricks. Together, we'll make them flee in shame."

(End of Chapter)