TIPS – Chapter 58

“They’re the ones who are bad, but you’re the one apologizing. Does that mean you care about them a lot?” Song Jingwei asked, still unsure about what kind of status Yang Shuangjiao and Wang Chunxing had in the eyes of the Shen family’s main household.

“…” Shen Junxi shook his head outright. This was his first time meeting his aunt and cousin —how could he care about them that much?

“If that’s the case, then let’s not talk about them,” Song Jingwei said as he walked, casually rubbing his stomach—he really wasn’t full.

“Hmm?” Shen Junxi stared at him, intrigued. He loved observing Song Jingwei’s expressions, which made it easy to notice his troubles. “You’re still hungry?” Shen Junxi thought for a moment, then gestured, “I didn’t eat enough either. How about we make some noodles?”

Song Jingwei frowned. “Noodles again?”

“Then what do you want to eat?” Shen Junxi gazed at him warmly.

“Anything but noodles.” Song Jingwei had a typical southern palate, meaning he wasn’t particularly fond of noodles. Eating them occasionally was fine, but the Shen family’s main household liked having them for breakfast nearly every day. When he got tired of them, he had Yang Shi make him porridge instead.

“Hmm…” Shen Junxi tilted his head in thought, then grabbed Song Jingwei’s hand and led him toward the kitchen.

“You can go by yourself…” Song Jingwei thought to himself. Why do I have to go too? Also, Shen Junxi was getting bolder—grabbing hands, touching his face—who allowed him to do that?

“It’s not good to lie down right after eating; it’ll cause indigestion,” Shen Junxi gestured seriously, pulling him along again.

“You don’t have to hold my hand,” Song Jingwei said coldly, yanking his hand back. The way Shen Junxi spoke about indigestion made it sound so convincing, but the real problem was that he hadn’t eaten enough in the first place.

“Hmm…” Shen Junxi didn’t seem affected by the rejection and simply smiled as they walked toward the kitchen together.

When they arrived, Song Jingwei pulled out a chair and sat outside, saying, “You handle it yourself. Call me when it’s done.”

“Mm.” Shen Junxi stood by the stove, troubled, his gaze shifting between the eggs and the fish tank. Eggs were easy to cook, but fish was more nutritious…

“Hurry up. If it’s not done in fifteen minutes, I’m going back to sleep,” Song Jingwei called out when he didn’t hear any movement in the kitchen.

“Mm…” Shen Junxi quickly abandoned the idea of cooking fish, grabbed a porcelain bowl, cracked a few eggs into it, and beat them thoroughly, preparing to make egg soup.

As the water neared boiling, he took a handful of chopped scallions and waved them in front of Song Jingwei. “Hmm?”

“No,” Song Jingwei frowned. He used to be indifferent about scallions, but for some reason, he had grown to dislike them in the past few months.

Shen Junxi tossed the scallions aside and made a large bowl of pure egg soup. There was still rice in the pot, so he scooped out a steaming bowl of freshly cooked rice.

The bowl in front of him was simple—tender yellow egg pieces decorating the top, emitting a rich egg aroma. Song Jingwei took it, blew on a piece, and took a bite. The flavor was well-balanced, and the texture was soft. Not bad.

“Hmm?”

“It’s pretty good,” he admitted.

Shen Junxi smiled, his eyes curving into crescents. Even when he was happy, he only showed a slight, reserved smile, carrying a sense of quiet contentment. He then served himself a bowl, sat on the doorstep not far from Song Jingwei, and ate at the same pace, savoring every bite.

This was the first time Song Jingwei had eaten something cooked by Shen Junxi, and he had to admit—it wasn’t bad. He couldn’t help but glance at the man beside him. Is there anything this guy can’t do?

The most baffling thing was… he could even have children.

That thought, which had been lingering in his mind, was quickly disrupted by the presence of Yang Shi’s relatives. Song Jingwei sighed internally—he probably wouldn’t be able to bring it up until they left.

After finishing lunch, he slowly made his way back to the courtyard.

Shen Junxi glanced at the pile of dishes in the sink and decided to wash them before heading back to his wife. He could have left them for his mother, Yang Shi, but he was worried she might overthink it and assume they were upset.

It was already October, and the afternoon sun wasn’t too harsh. Yang Shuangjiao and her daughter took a nap in the afternoon and didn’t wake up until nearly dusk. In the evening, they simply waited for dinner and enjoyed the hot water Yang Shi had prepared, soaking in a large wooden bathtub for a comfortable bath.

Dinner was richer than usual, though not excessively extravagant. The Shen family’s main household already ate well on a regular basis—otherwise, Song Jingwei’s stomach wouldn’t have tolerated it.

Yang Shuangjiao couldn’t help but be amazed. My little sister is living in such comfort. The food, the clothes, everything is of such fine quality—it’s clear she’s wealthy now.

After dinner, the sisters sat in Yang Shi’s room with Wang Chunxing, chatting. In the room, there was an unfinished embroidery project—a long robe made from high-quality fabric. There were also several bolts of cloth on the table, all of excellent material.

Yang Shuangjiao ran her hand over the fabric and marveled, “This must be expensive. How much does a bolt of this cost?”

Yang Shi replied, “Oh, these? They came from my daughter-in-law’s dowry. He said he didn’t need that much, so he gave some to our family to make clothes. We get several bolts for each season. I already sent some to the tailor for summer clothes, but I haven’t made the autumn ones yet.”

It was yet another thing given by that daughter-in-law. Yang Shuangjiao clicked her tongue in mild displeasure but reluctantly put it down.

“Sister, Niuniu and I came in a hurry and didn’t bring anything with us,” Yang Shuangjiao said. “Do you have any extra clothes at home? Can I borrow a few sets to wear for now?”

Yang Shi usually dressed simply. Though Song Jingwei had given her fabric to make clothes, she hadn’t worn much of it. So she said, “I have some new ones in my wardrobe. Pick a few if you’d like.”

“Great, let me take a look.” Yang Shuangjiao eagerly opened Yang Shi’s wardrobe and found several brand-new outfits inside. She smiled and said, “The colors and styles are quite nice. You haven’t worn these?”

“No, I can’t possibly wear them all. Jingwei insisted that I have them made,” Yang Shi replied with a smile.

“Hah, sounds like your daughter-in-law treats you well,” Yang Shuangjiao remarked, facing away from Yang Shi with an odd expression on her face.

“Yes, very well,” Yang Shi said, thinking of her son and daughter-in-law with a fond smile. She didn’t bother arguing with Yang Shuangjiao. She knew that her elder sister might not truly care for her, but after forty years of being siblings, maintaining a cordial relationship was better than outright hostility.

Yang Shuangjiao flipped through the clothes and picked out two sets. She sighed regretfully, “These clothes are nice, but the patterns are too old-fashioned. They suit me, but they wouldn’t look good on Niuniu.”

Yang Shi thought about it and agreed. Young girls liked bright and pretty clothes, and this was the perfect age for dressing up. However, she didn’t have any brightly patterned fabric on hand. Previously, Song Jingwei had mentioned that he had a stash of vibrant floral fabrics and asked if she needed any. At the time, she had waved him off, saying she didn’t need such fancy materials—simple blue and green fabrics were enough for her.

“That’s true. But I don’t have any brightly patterned fabric right now. How about this? Tomorrow, I’ll go to Jingwei and ask for a piece,” Yang Shi suggested. She figured that one piece would be enough—those fabrics weren’t cheap. She understood her sister well; if she didn’t get something out of this visit, she wouldn’t let it go.

“In that case, Chunxing and I will go with you tomorrow. We’ll just say it’s for his cousin, so your daughter-in-law doesn’t take issue with it,” Yang Shuangjiao said. She reasoned that as cousins, it was only natural for a brother and sister-in-law to gift fabric to their younger cousin.

“There’s no need for that. I can go alone,” Yang Shi replied. It was just a piece of fabric—why bring her sister and niece along to make things awkward? If Yang Shuangjiao were more tactful, it wouldn’t be an issue, but her sharp tongue made things difficult. Who knew if she had already offended Yang Shi’s daughter-in-law?

“What’s the trouble? It’s decided then. We’ll go together tomorrow,” Yang Shuangjiao said, making the decision on her own. She was curious—if Yang Shi’s room was already this spacious and well-furnished, wouldn’t her daughter-in-law’s courtyard be filled with even more valuable things?

She knew she wouldn’t be able to take anything, but she just wanted to see for herself.

Yang Shi remained silent. Fine, come if you want. I’ll just go early in the morning and get the fabric before you arrive.

With their own thoughts in mind, the sisters changed the subject.

Yang Shuangjiao sighed, “Mother really misjudged things back then. If she had known you’d be living so well now, do you think she would have regretted it?” As if she hadn’t joined in mocking Yang Shi all those years ago.

“How has Mother been all these years? And what about our younger brother?” Yang Shi asked. She still harbored resentment toward her mother, but at the end of the day, she was still her mother. More than twenty years of estrangement should have been enough. And as for her younger brother—he had been an honest and kind man, much like Shen Dongming.

“Mother’s doing fine. Our little brother has a craft to support her, so she eats well and lives comfortably,” Yang Shuangjiao said, sighing. “But our poor brother—he finally got married and had a son, but that lazy woman was nothing but trouble. She complained about how poor he was and ended up running off with someone else after a few years.”

“That happened?” Yang Shi was shocked. Women remarrying for money wasn’t unheard of, but she wasn’t sure she believed Yang Shuangjiao’s version of events. She knew exactly what kind of person their mother was. If her brother’s wife had left because she couldn’t stand their mother’s mistreatment, that would have been more believable.

“Yes. But she’s gone, so it doesn’t matter. It’s not like he can’t get married again. But our little brother was so disheartened that he refused to take another wife,” Yang Shuangjiao explained, omitting the fact that he couldn’t find another woman willing to marry him. She preferred to put things in a better light. “But now, he has married an honest and hardworking husband instead. Mother says he’s much better than that lazy woman.”

Yang Shi forced a smile but couldn’t help thinking to herself, Of course. A husband is strong and resilient, never talks back when beaten or scolded—what could they possibly complain about?

Oh, and there was one more thing—a husband could do all kinds of labor, no matter how dirty or exhausting.

Sometimes, Yang Shi deeply resented her mother. Why did she have to be so cruel? That was someone else’s child too—someone with flesh and blood, who could feel pain and sorrow. But Mother didn’t care. She wasn’t just like that with outsiders; even her own children weren’t spared.

“You haven’t been back in over twenty years. Why don’t we go visit Mother together sometime?” Yang Shuangjiao suggested, already forming a plan. She wanted Yang Shi to accompany her back to their mother’s house.

“I… I’d like to, but Mother…” Yang Shi hesitated, still apprehensive. Even after all these years, she could vividly remember Feng Shi’s curses and the way she had treated her so cruelly.