RMM -Chapter 339 An Unforeseen Disaster Thanks to Su Ruo

Since that incident, Xi Yuechen had learned his lesson and no longer spoke ill of Xi Zi in front of Su Ruo. Any issues? Simple—he’d just call her into the study. In the study, Xi Yuechen had no reservations; he could voice any dissatisfaction he had. After all, Su Ruo wouldn’t go gossiping about it.

So, by the time Su Ruo discovered these “secret activities,” everything was already set in stone. There was nothing she could do to reverse it. What else could she do? Let it be and observe the situation quietly.

Thus, after that incident, life for the three of them continued peacefully, comfortably, and sweetly.

In recent days, Su Ruo had become obsessed with a TV drama. She watched it so engrossedly that she completely lost track of time. Today, there were only a few episodes left, so she decided to binge-watch them all at once. Once finished, she could relax and wouldn’t have to worry about guessing what would happen next.

Naturally, Su Ruo completely forgot about cooking. If Xi Zi hadn’t reminded her, Xi Yuechen might have returned from work to find no dinner ready.

Xi Zi sat on his designated spot—the blanket on the balcony—leaning against the large cushion Su Ruo had specially bought for him, quietly reading a book. Perhaps inheriting his father’s high IQ, Xi Zi was precocious, though this precocity referred to his intellect. Other than being slightly taller and more outstanding-looking than children his age, everything else about him was age-appropriate.

Having learned to speak early, Xi Zi grew at an astonishing rate. His comprehension and learning ability often left Su Ruo stunned. She thought to herself: good thing I’m not his peer; otherwise, his super-intelligence would utterly crush me.

Although he had been a premature baby, careful care over time had brought him up like a normal child, without any deficiencies. He could stand and walk early.

Xi Zi was quiet and didn’t enjoy being noisy or playing with other kids. There were a few children in the yard, and Su Ruo had initially thought he was shy or afraid of bigger kids. She even encouraged him a few times. Later, she realized that her son simply didn’t want to play with them.

Watching him glance coldly at the shouting, rowdy children with his big eyes, full of disdain, Su Ruo couldn’t help but laugh and cry at how much he resembled his father. From then on, she stopped urging him to go downstairs to play with the other kids.

Worried that Xi Zi might be bored staying home all day, or worse, become socially withdrawn, Su Ruo returned to the Zhengjia compound and brought back a large stack of cartoons, children’s books, and many toys to occupy him. This strategy worked well; Xi Zi willingly looked at illustrated books and played with toys—mostly intelligence-building ones like blocks. As for cartoons, he showed little interest except for brain-teaser types like Detective XX, which gave Su Ruo headaches. Her son was far too unusual.

Xi Zi read quietly. Initially, he couldn’t recognize characters or pinyin, so he just flipped through the pictures repeatedly, not bored. When tired, he played with his toys. Seeing how much he enjoyed books, Su Ruo began teaching him characters. In a few days, Xi Zi had mastered pinyin fluently. He could read books with pinyin on his own, only asking Su Ruo when something confused him, remaining silent the rest of the time.

While pleased, Su Ruo also worried that too much reading would turn him into a bookworm. She decided to teach him drawing or music, reasoning that he liked the illustrations in books, so he likely wouldn’t resist drawing.

Finally, Su Ruo had a proper task at home: educating her son—a responsibility that weighed heavily on her. She reflected on herself several times a day and asked Xi Yuechen if she had any bad habits. If Xi Zi learned them, she would feel like a criminal, leaving Xi Yuechen both amused and helpless.

When relatives from Zhengjia and the military compound heard Su Ruo had begun focusing on Xi Zi’s education so early, they were shocked and repeatedly called her, worried for him. They assumed her eagerness to cultivate a prodigy was pressuring him at an age meant for play. The two grandmothers nearly scolded her for it.

Su Ruo rolled her eyes, thinking: if this were my desire to cultivate a prodigy, fine. But my grandson is just too smart. He rarely plays, preferring reading, building blocks, or watching military channels. With such a strong desire to learn, how could I refuse him? Even if she couldn’t pass on superhuman intelligence, she couldn’t hold him back.

After much persuasion, she managed to appease the two grandmothers, but they remained skeptical. How could a child under three read books and draw?

Helpless, Su Ruo had Xi Zi explain it to them himself. Once he spoke in his innocent voice, they immediately believed him, praising their precious grandson over the phone. The next day, they came in person, bringing more books and toys, leaving Su Ruo speechless.

It was a stark reminder: different people, different fates. The difference in treatment was shocking for just a little kid.

Shen Liang had brought top-tier professional art supplies. Su Ruo was flabbergasted, explaining that she only intended to teach Xi Zi very simple drawings from book illustrations—flowers, plants, small animals. Still, it felt excessive.

A child’s three-year-old introduction to drawing didn’t need such elaborate tools. If a professional teacher came, it would have been utterly ridiculous.

There wasn’t enough space in the living room to store all this. If neighbors saw it, it might create discomfort, given most kids had simpler conditions. Naturally, Xi Yuechen’s study became the temporary storage for all Xi Zi’s supplies.

Su Ruo placed everything there, and suddenly, the cold, empty study transformed into a crowded children’s room. Xi Yuechen observed silently, accepting the overnight change without complaint.

With her son grown enough to help, he noticed dinner wasn’t prepared and approached her:

“Mom, Dad’s coming home soon. It’s time to cook.”

Su Ruo snapped back to reality and started cooking: first fresh mung bean porridge for Xi Yuechen, then preparing the meal. Feeling overwhelmed, she shamelessly called Xi Zi to help peel scallions and wash vegetables.

And then, disaster struck.

While rinsing rice, Su Ruo heard Xi Zi call:

“Mom.”

She instinctively responded and turned to look at him. Something felt off—his voice was muffled.

To her shock, her precious son rubbed one eye with a hand still covered in scallion residue. The other eye was bloodshot and tearing uncontrollably.

“What happened?” she asked frantically, holding him. Xi Zi rarely cried, and seeing him like this made her heart race.

“I don’t know… I just rubbed my eye…”

He sounded aggrieved, lips slightly pouted, face wet with tears.

Su Ruo grabbed his hand to see what happened and immediately smelled a familiar scent…

“Son… you rubbed your eye with a hand that had been peeling scallions?” she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“Mm,” the little guy replied, snuggling into her arms, finally showing a touch of age-appropriate emotion.

“You… what should I even say?” Su Ruo felt both heartache and helplessness, rushing him to the bathroom to wipe his eyes.

“Forget it, it’s my fault for letting you peel scallions. You didn’t know any better,” she sighed, apologizing solemnly, “Mom is sorry, seeing you suffer like this…”

Using scallion-covered hands on the eyes? Of course not! But little Xi Zi had no idea. This was truly an unforeseen disaster, caused by Mom.

Perhaps this is the proverbial “stealing a chicken only to lose the rice,” or “too clever for one’s own good.”

In any case, Su Ruo’s attempt to be clever backfired, and Xi Zi bore the consequences.