WRS – Chapter 56

When Zhang Qiulai returned, it wasn’t just Fang Min who felt much more relaxed — even Jin Xiuzhu felt a great deal lighter. She discussed it with Fang Min and said that from now on, she would also contribute some money every month. Once Bai Jingzhi and the two children started school, she would definitely come over often for meals, and she couldn’t just keep eating and drinking for free.

Knowing Jin Xiuzhu’s temperament, Fang Min didn’t refuse.

That way, when Jin Xiuzhu brought her children next door for meals, she felt more at ease — otherwise, she would always feel like she was taking advantage of others, which she disliked.

During the day, when the children needed to read and do homework, Jin Xiuzhu would carry Liu Liu over to Fang Min’s house. The two of them would stay in the study, drawing and reading together. Fang Min even specially prepared a new desk for her so they could sit side by side to work without disturbing each other.

Once the two babies had full bellies and were laid down to sleep, Zhang Qiulai would occasionally step into the room to check on them.

The little ones already recognized each other now. Every time they were placed on the bed together, they knew it was time to sleep — they’d start yawning right away, close their eyes soon after, and didn’t even need coaxing.

Before, Fan Fan had been very domineering. He knew it was his bed and wouldn’t let Liu Liu sleep there. Every time Liu Liu lay down, he would wail at the top of his lungs — but he was perfectly fine sleeping on Jin Xiuzhu’s bed. Liu Liu would always stare at him curiously with her big eyes; sometimes, maybe because she found him too noisy, she’d simply turn her head away and ignore him.

Nowadays, even when Fang Min heard her son crying, she didn’t rush to soothe him anymore. Sometimes she would leisurely drink a sip of water or wash her hands before going to pick him up.

Perhaps realizing that crying didn’t help, Fan Fan cried less often now. When he woke up, he would just lie there with wide-open eyes; and upon seeing the little one beside him, he’d reach out to touch her.

Liu Liu had such a good temper — even when woken up, she wouldn’t get angry. Thinking he was playing with her, she’d open her mouth in a bright smile.

Every time Jin Xiuzhu saw that, she could only sigh helplessly. She couldn’t understand — she considered herself a smart person, so how did she give birth to such a sweet but silly little girl?

It must be that she took after her father. Definitely.

Jiang Mingchuan, however, thought everything about his daughter was perfect. When Commissar Zhu once jokingly suggested an arranged marriage between the two babies, Jiang Mingchuan had pretended not to hear and immediately changed the topic. He thought to himself that Fang Min’s son Fan Fan was far too domineering — not suitable for his little girl. Who knew what kind of person Fan Fan would grow up to be? Wouldn’t that be digging a pit for his daughter?

On this matter, his head was unusually clear.

Later, he even mentioned it to Jin Xiuzhu, telling her not to agree to any of Fang Min’s suggestions.

Jin Xiuzhu rolled her eyes at him, annoyed. “Fang Min isn’t as childish as you two men,” she said. “She herself says her son has a bad temper and worries that he’ll cause all sorts of trouble when he grows up. As for marriage and all that — I doubt it’s even crossed her mind.”

Indeed, it hadn’t crossed Fang Min’s mind at all. These past two days, Fan Fan had developed a bit of a cough, and she’d stopped Jin Xiuzhu from bringing her baby over, afraid of spreading it to Liu Liu.

After taking the cough remedy Jin Xiuzhu had given, Fan Fan was much better last night. This morning, Fang Min even came over specially to thank her. But from caring for the sick child, she looked quite worn out — pale-faced, and she yawned several times even just while talking.

Jin Xiuzhu told her to go home and get some proper rest, saying they could talk about anything else after she woke up.

Fang Min nodded and went back home.

But before she could even get any sleep, visitors arrived at her house.

It was Commissar Zhu who brought them. Hearing voices outside, Jin Xiuzhu looked up curiously toward the door, wondering who he was talking to.

But she didn’t get up to look — instead, she continued sketching while holding the just-awake Liu Liu. Her elder daughter, sitting beside her, also heard the voices and turned her head toward Jin Xiuzhu.

Jin Xiuzhu gestured for her to keep reading.

Fu Yanyan had no choice but to lower her head again and listlessly flip through her book.

A while later, around eleven-thirty, came a knock at the door. He Yan and the others, who had just finished their homework, came out of their rooms. As they reached the living room, they heard the knocking, and He Yan immediately said, “I’ll get it.”

He ran to the door in a few quick steps and opened it.

Fu Yanyan simply sat back down again.

It was Zhang Qiulai at the door, coming to call them for lunch. After saying so, she added, “Cousin… Ms. Fang’s family has arrived.”

She’d gotten used to calling her “cousin” and now kept slipping up.

Hearing that, Jin Xiuzhu frowned. “Family?”

Zhang Qiulai nodded. “From the capital.”

Jin Xiuzhu thought for a moment and then said considerately, “Then we won’t go over. Tell Commissar Zhu we’ll eat at home.”

She knew that if she said it directly to Fang Min, the other woman would never agree.

Zhang Qiulai hesitated, unsure what to do. “Should I go ask?”

“No need. Just say it’s my idea — we still have food at home.”

Zhang Qiulai nodded. “Alright.”

After she left, Da Ya said goodbye to Jin Xiuzhu, intending to go home for lunch too.

But Jin Xiuzhu stopped her. “No need to run back and forth. You still have lessons this afternoon — stay and eat here. You can help me out a bit, too.”

Hearing that, and remembering her mother was at work and not home, the girl agreed.

But soon, there was another knock at the door. He Yan went to open it again — this time it was Commissar Zhu, smiling at the door. “Fang Min’s parents are here — they’re not outsiders. We all usually eat together anyway; there’s no need to cook separately today. Come over.”

All the children turned to look at Jin Xiuzhu.

Since he’d come to invite them in person, she couldn’t refuse again. Smiling, she said, “Alright then, I’ll tidy up and come over.”

The commissar nodded.

Jin Xiuzhu then led the children next door. Da Ya seemed a little nervous, standing still for a moment until Bai Jingzhi took her hand. Relieved, she followed along.

Fang Min’s parents had assumed only one or two people would be joining for lunch. But when they saw a whole line of people entering, their faces froze in surprise.

The large table Commissar Zhu had ordered before was usually big enough — Jin Xiuzhu and her children could all sit comfortably when they came. But today, with Fang Min’s parents and the extra child, the table suddenly felt crowded.

Fang Min’s parents’ expressions were not very pleasant.

In fact, their mood had soured ever since they entered the base. They had waited outside the gates for quite a while before their son-in-law came to fetch them. They had written earlier saying they wanted to visit, but never received a reply — they had assumed the delay was just due to the New Year postal traffic. Yet once inside, their daughter’s attitude was oddly calm. When she saw them, her face didn’t show much joy.

They told themselves that this was just her personality and didn’t press her about it.

But now, seeing the lively group from next door enter — and how both their daughter and son-in-law immediately brightened and smiled warmly — their expressions darkened further.

Jin Xiuzhu led the children to greet Fang Min’s parents.

The couple, seated in the place of honor, only nodded faintly.

Jin Xiuzhu simply smiled and said nothing.

Fang Min took Liu Liu from her arms and said, “Go eat. I’ll hold her for a while.”

“And Fan Fan?”

“He’s asleep again.”

No sooner had she said that than the sound of crying came from the bedroom.

Jin Xiuzhu chuckled and took the baby back. “Go check on him.”

Fang Min could only smile helplessly and return to her room.

Commissar Zhu arranged the children at the table. There weren’t enough seats, so Zhang Qiulai slipped into the kitchen. She had already noticed that Fang Min and her parents didn’t seem to get along very well — they’d barely exchanged a few words since entering.

Unlike her — whenever she visited her brother and sister-in-law’s home after months apart, they’d always have endless things to talk about.

Jin Xiuzhu sat next to her daughter, and Commissar Zhu said, “Let’s eat.”

Fang Min’s father asked, “Why don’t you call your sister out to join us?”

Commissar Zhu paused for a moment, chopsticks in hand, then smiled and explained, “She said there’s no room, so we should start first.”

Fang Min’s father frowned, displeased. “We’re all family here. Call her out.”

Commissar Zhu said nothing more, just smiled and stood up to fetch Zhang Qiulai from the kitchen.

Zhang Qiulai felt awkward — she wanted to explain that she wasn’t his sister at all, just there to help out.

Fang Min, hearing this from her room, came out holding her son and deliberately said, “Come sit, Cousin. We’re all family here.”

Only then did Fang Min’s father realize the woman wasn’t actually a blood relative. After Zhang Qiulai sat down, sensing the awkward atmosphere, he tried to smooth things over and asked, “Whose children are these?”

Commissar Zhu smiled and said, “Not relatives either. My sister had to return home after a while, and since Fang Min couldn’t manage both kids alone, we found a friend’s acquaintance to come help. To avoid gossip, we’ve just been saying she’s my cousin.”

Zhang Qiulai gave them a polite smile.

Upon hearing that, Fang Min’s father regretted his earlier words.

Fang Min’s mother pursed her lips and interrupted, “Let’s eat. The food’s getting cold.”

So the whole table fell silent as they began to eat.

After the meal, once Jin Xiuzhu helped Zhang Qiulai clean up the table, she took her child and went home.

Once they left, Fang Min’s mother went into the room.

Inside, Fang Min was nursing her baby. When she saw her mother come in, she turned slightly to avoid her gaze.

Fang Min’s mother frowned. “I’m not an outsider. What are you hiding for? When your sister used to feed, she never avoided me.”

That kind of behavior—like she was being treated as a stranger—annoyed her.

Fang Min said nothing. She and her sister were not the same. She wasn’t close to them at all.

Fang Min’s mother sat down at the foot of the bed, looked at her younger daughter’s frail body, and, for once, felt a flicker of pity. “Why haven’t you written home lately?”

Fang Min didn’t want to talk, but finally sighed. “Too busy.”

Fang Min’s mother thought about her daughter’s work. She didn’t really understand what she did, but she figured it must be demanding.

“When you have time, write home,” she said.

“Mm.”

The room fell silent. Fang Min’s mother looked at her quiet daughter, unsure what to say next. The younger girl was so withdrawn—so unlike her elder sister. Wherever the older one went, the atmosphere was always lively and cheerful; being around her just felt pleasant.

After a moment, she started a new topic: “Who was that family next door? Why’d they come over for dinner with so many kids?”

Her tone carried the unspoken criticism: her daughter and son-in-law were foolish, letting others freeload. Waste of money. Once or twice was fine—but judging by how familiar they seemed, it clearly wasn’t the first time.

Fang Min picked up on her meaning and pursed her lips. “They live nearby. We’re close. She just gave birth, so we take turns hosting meals.”

Fang Min’s mother’s lips tightened—she felt she’d guessed right. “Even if you take turns, you’re still getting the short end of the stick. They’ve got so many mouths to feed.”

Fang Min was displeased by the remark. “Jin Xiuzhu gives us money.”

Actually, she didn’t even think it was necessary. When she herself was pregnant, she often ate next door for free at first.

Fang Min’s mother glared. “You silly child. Even if she pays, you still lose out! Those two boys of hers eat as much as grown men. You and your husband don’t make that much—how can you afford to feed others like that? Don’t let them come anymore. You’re being taken advantage of and don’t even realize it.”

Fang Min’s expression went cold. She could tolerate a lot, but not this—she couldn’t stand anyone accusing Jin Xiuzhu of using her. She turned sharply, controlling her temper. “Did you see the baby’s clothes and shoes? Do you think they look nice?”

Fang Min’s mother followed her gaze to the child’s outfit—fine, glossy fabric embroidered with intricate designs, the tiny tiger shoes exquisitely made. Such craftsmanship was rare these days; she never expected to see it on her own grandchild.

Her heart itched with curiosity. She wanted to ask where her daughter had bought them—maybe she could buy a few sets for her elder grandson.

Without thinking, she said, “They’re beautiful.”

Fang Min spoke calmly: “Jin Xiuzhu made them. There are several more sets in the cabinet. And that quilt on the crib—she had someone make it for us. When I first got pregnant and didn’t know what to do, I had stomach pains at night—she was the one who took me to the clinic. The next morning she brought me to the county hospital and taught me how to boil medicine. While I was pregnant, whenever Zhengwei wasn’t home during the day, she’d invite me over to eat. She makes all kinds of pastries, and no matter what she cooks, she always brings some over.”

“And the night I went into labor, Zhengwei wasn’t home. I was in terrible pain. It was her husband who carried me to the county hospital. His hand and leg were still injured, but he didn’t say a word—just carried me all the way from here to the river, then from the pier to the hospital. Zhengwei told me later that Commander Jiang’s lips went white from the pain. And the next morning, Jin Xiuzhu—still heavily pregnant—came to see me…”

“You say she’s taking advantage of me? I don’t know how you came to that conclusion, but to me, besides my grandparents and Zhengwei, she’s the person who’s treated me the best in this world.”

It was the first time Fang Min’s mother had heard her quiet daughter speak so much at once. As she listened to her calm recounting, her own face grew uneasy.

Especially that last sentence—that Jin Xiuzhu, not her parents, was one of the people who treated her best—hit her hard. It felt like a reproach, an exclusion.

Unhappy, she said, “Your father and I are both busy. You married so far away—we couldn’t take care of you even if we wanted to. If you lived nearby like your sister, you wouldn’t have had to suffer so much.”

“Don’t say we don’t care about you. If we didn’t, would we have come all this way to see you?”

Fang Min laughed—but her eyes were cold. “Mom, I’m not a child anymore. I’m past the age where I believe everything you say. I have a child now. I know what it means for parents to truly love their children.”

She looked down at her baby. The little one nursed while gazing up at her with bright, round eyes. When their eyes met, he smiled, softening her heart and giving her the courage to say what she’d kept buried.

“If you and Dad really cared about me, you wouldn’t have waited until now. If it were my sister giving birth, you’d have taken the night train that same day. I still remember—when she had her baby, you bought piles of new clothes, washed each one three times yourself in case they were dirty, bought all sorts of supplements. When it was my turn—nothing.”

“I did buy things for you!”

Fang Min said quietly, “Did you buy them yourself?”

Her mother frowned. “I told your sister to. I was busy—where would I find the time?”

Fang Min shook her head, done talking. “Forget it. Rest for a bit and then go back. It takes hours to get to the city. The house is small—we can’t fit more people.”

Fang Min’s mother’s face darkened. “What do you mean by that?”

Fang Min laid it bare: “Nothing. I just think we were never close, so there’s no point forcing contact. Don’t write to me anymore. I won’t reply. I don’t even eat the food you send—I give it away. You can see I’m living well now. I don’t need that so-called concern.”

Fang Min’s mother stared at her in disbelief, then shot to her feet. “Say that again!”

Fang Min, unfazed, finished nursing and wiped the baby’s mouth.

Outside, her husband and father were having a half-hearted chat, but when they heard the raised voices, they fell silent.

Then Fang Min’s mother’s shout came through the door, and Commissar Zhu hurried in, trying to calm things down. “What’s going on? Let’s talk nicely.”

Fang Min’s mother, furious, turned to him. “Listen to what she said! She’s telling us to leave and never come again. Is that how a daughter talks to her parents?”

Fang Min let out a short, bitter laugh. “Parents? You don’t even know my husband’s only sister. What relationship is there to maintain?”

Fang Min’s father stood in the doorway, looking at his daughter’s calm, indifferent face. He opened his mouth but couldn’t say a word.

Zhu Zhengwei had meant to smooth things over, but hearing that, he couldn’t find the words.

In his heart, ever since their marriage and through her pregnancy, he’d realized that her parents truly didn’t care for her. They doted on the elder daughter, but toward Fang Min—they were indifferent. If he were in her place, he’d feel hurt too.

Especially since she’d given birth—they’d shown no care or effort, unlike his own elder sister, who had visited twice and rushed over when his niece’s family was in trouble.

The contrast was glaring.

After a moment, he smiled and said gently, “Minmin doesn’t speak well, but she means well. It’s getting late—you should head back soon. I have to be on duty in half an hour. I’ll walk you out.”

His tone was polite, but the meaning was clear—they were being asked to leave.

Before they could react, he’d already gone to the door, carrying the things they’d brought. “We have plenty of food here. Take these back and eat them yourselves. We can’t be around to serve you often—keep them for your health.”

Their faces turned uglier by the second. They were respectable people back in the capital, yet here they were—fed, then sent away by their own daughter and son-in-law.

With their pride wounded, they left in silence, not even saying goodbye to their daughter.

After they left, Fang Min soothed her baby to sleep. Though she felt a twinge of sadness, mostly she felt relieved.

Zhu Zhengwei saw them to the gate, then stopped. Facing their dark expressions, he said gently but firmly, “I think Minmin did the right thing. You never treated her as a daughter, so there’s no need to pretend anymore. I used to believe there were no parents who didn’t love their children—that’s why I encouraged her to stay in touch. But from her pregnancy till now, even I, an outsider, could see your neglect and coldness.”

“We’re living well now. We don’t expect anything from you. Don’t write again—we won’t come back. Take care.”

The couple watched their son-in-law’s retreating back, their expressions complicated.

They didn’t want anyone to see, so they left quietly.

But walking down the road, sadness crept in. She was still their daughter—no matter how distant, they had never meant to sever ties.

Fang Min’s mother blamed her husband. “If you hadn’t mistaken her at first, we wouldn’t have angered them like this.”

Fang Min’s father was irritated. “How is it my fault? You’re her mother! When she got pregnant, why’d you have Niuniu buy the baby things? Of course she had no time—she probably had that Sun woman buy them. Who knows what cheap junk she picked, no wonder Minmin got upset.”

Fang Min’s mother realized it too and darkened. “I told you not to rely on her relatives. You insisted it was fine. Happy now?”

“What’s the point of arguing about it now?”

…

The two bickered all the way back.

Afterward, Commissar Zhu comforted Fang Min for a while before heading out for work.

Zhang Qiulai, who had been hiding in the kitchen the whole time, waited until everyone was gone before creeping back to her room.

That afternoon, after a nap, Jin Xiuzhu carried her child Liuliu next door, holding a plate of pastries she’d made—planning to give them to Fang Min’s parents.

But when she arrived, she learned they’d already left.

She froze for a moment, glanced at Fang Min’s expression, and didn’t dare pry.

Fang Min told her everything.

Jin Xiuzhu was surprised and gave her a long look.

Fang Min smiled, a lightness in her voice. “Every time they wrote, I couldn’t help reading. But every time I did, I wondered—why bother? Better not to. Now it’s done. We won’t contact each other again. Zhengwei didn’t blame me, either. He even praised me—said I was clear-headed and decisive, that I’ll achieve great things one day.”

Maybe it was his leadership tone from so many meetings, but for once, she truly felt at ease.

Seeing she wasn’t upset, Jin Xiuzhu took her hand and smiled. “Trust me—your life will only get better from here.”

Fang Min smiled back. “I believe it.”

That night, when Jiang Mingchuan came home, Jin Xiuzhu told him the whole story. After listening, she sighed. “I really underestimated her. She looks so quiet, but she’s so decisive when it matters.”

Many children crushed under parental favoritism grow up trying to please their parents. To cut ties like that—it’s incredibly hard. Like Qian Yufeng—she always said she’d stay out of her family’s affairs, but every holiday she still went back.

Fang Min truly surprised her.

But Jiang Mingchuan explained, “That’s part of it. But if I’m not mistaken, Commissar Zhu’s due for a promotion in a few years. It’s better to sever ties now—cleanly. Later, if they come asking for help, it’ll be easier to refuse.”

Jin Xiuzhu thought about it and understood.

Jiang Mingchuan added, “From what I’ve heard, her sister’s husband isn’t doing well.”

She looked at him, surprised. “What do you mean?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know exactly—someone said he works in a factory and keeps offending people.”

Jin Xiuzhu nodded. That made sense—it was wise to prepare early.

The children nearby overheard everything. He Yan piped up with a comment, “Every family has its own messy pile of feathers.”

Jiang Mingchuan laughed and tapped him on the head with his chopsticks. “You’re too young to be saying that.”

Jin Xiuzhu laughed beside them. “Such a mischievous kid.”

He Yan huffed, “You underestimate me. I know a lot, okay?”

But just as he finished, an argument broke out upstairs.