WRS – Chapter 57

The shouting came from a stranger—a woman yelling at the top of her lungs. “I’ve been working my fingers to the bone taking care of your family of three, and you pay me only fifteen yuan a month! Other people do the same job and get thirty or forty, and they even get help sometimes, gifts during holidays, and time off to go home. But you—nothing! You still dare to give me attitude, acting like I’m the one begging you. Yes, I am begging you—begging you to introduce me to someone! But it’s been two months now, and where’s that person you promised? Not even a shadow!”

“You bunch of stingy thieves! Why don’t you just die from hoarding your money, huh? You’ve got the nerve to call yourselves respectable people? Bah! I’m done serving you! Do whatever you want, you ungrateful bastards! I must’ve been cursed for eight lifetimes to end up here—”

Then came Yang Yao’s voice, but it was muffled and unclear.

The woman, however, was even more furious. “Talk nice? Talk my ass! If you’ve got the guts, then pay me what you owe me! Introduce me to someone! You do nothing but take advantage! Have some shame, will you?”

After that, it went silent upstairs.

At the dining table, the six people sitting there stared at one another.

It was Jin Xiuzhu who reacted first. “Let’s eat.”

Then she lowered her head and started eating quietly, guessing that Zhang Qiulai must’ve accidentally let slip how much she earned. Before, Zhang Qiulai’s salary was thirty yuan a month, all paid by Fang Min and her husband. Now that Jin Xiuzhu shared the expense, each contributed twenty.

A moment later came a loud BANG from upstairs—a door slamming hard—followed by angry, heavy footsteps down the stairs. From the sound alone, it was clear someone was fuming.

Jin Xiuzhu frowned, wondering what kind of trouble was brewing upstairs this time.

Upstairs, Yang Yao sat in the living room, his face dark. The bedroom door was open; inside, Zhao Yun sat on the bed holding her son, her face pale and tense. The baby, who had been nursing, had started crying from all the shouting.

Zhao Yun gently patted his back to soothe him.

Outside, Yang Yao was getting increasingly agitated by the crying. Finally, he snapped and yelled toward the room, “Crying, crying, always crying! Can’t you even calm him down? What kind of mother are you?”

Zhao Yun’s hand froze mid-motion. Her lips pressed together, and she slowly raised her head, giving him a cold, sharp look.

Yang Yao turned his face away, his chest heaving. Still angry about what Zhao Qing had yelled earlier, he couldn’t help but mutter, “I told you we should’ve gotten your mom to come help, but no—you found this one! Fifteen yuan a month, and she’s still complaining! If she’s so capable, why doesn’t she go work in a factory? Always asking me to find her a husband—how the hell am I supposed to do that? Has she even looked in a mirror? She scared Yingxiong away, and I didn’t say a word, yet now she’s calling me stingy!”

He grew angrier the more he spoke. “I just don’t get your family! Do you people even care about your daughter? Instead of helping, you just bring me more trouble—”

Zhao Yun listened to his self-righteous tirade with growing disgust.

But Yang Yao didn’t stop. He started bringing up old grievances—how she’d driven his mother away.

That was the last straw. Zhao Yun slammed her baby onto the bed and stormed to the door, shouting furiously, “Yang Yao! You spineless coward! Whenever something happens, you dump all the blame on me, don’t you? You think it’s my fault your mother left? It’s because you’re useless! You know what kind of person your mother is—she bullied your eldest till she died, chased off the younger one, and even mistreated your own son! Did you ever stand up for anyone? In the end, you were the one who told her to leave! Don’t pretend it was all for my sake. You just wanted to wash your hands clean, didn’t you? If you had even an ounce of ability, would you be living like this pathetic mess?”

Yang Yao stood up, face livid. “You—!”

But Zhao Yun had lost all her usual gentleness. Her eyes blazed as she cursed, “What, you what? Every word I said is true! You’re useless! A coward! You’ve got no right to scold me or my family! If your mother were worth anything, would I have needed to beg my family to send someone over to help me? Go look at other households—whose wife needs her mother’s family to take care of her after giving birth? What are you, a live-in son-in-law?”

“My cousin was right—you are stingy! Fifteen yuan a month is a joke! If you’d given her thirty, would she have been this mad? People in factories only work eight hours a day. She’s here cooking and cleaning for us. What more do you want? You always compare me to others—why don’t you compare yourself to someone better?”

Yang Yao shot back, “I do give money! Didn’t I hand all my pay to you? You’re the one who didn’t give her enough!”

Zhao Yun let out a sharp laugh. “You send half your pay back home every month, then another ten to your eldest son. What’s left after all our expenses, huh? You expect me to chip in too? You can’t even support your own household—why did you get married in the first place? To ruin someone else’s life?”

Yang Yao snapped, “That’s my mother! I can’t just ignore her!”

Zhao Yun sneered. “See? It’s always your fault. I regret marrying you. I must’ve been blind to think you were a good man. You’re not even half the man my ex-husband was!”

That last sentence hit Yang Yao like a slap. He stepped closer, glaring at her pudgy, sallow face, and spat, “You don’t regret marrying me—you regret not marrying Jiang Mingchuan! But have you looked at yourself lately? You think Jiang Mingchuan would still want you? He’s probably thanking his lucky stars he didn’t marry you!”

“Shut up!” Zhao Yun exploded.

Her looks were what she cared about most, and his words cut straight to the heart.

“I used to be beautiful! And now I look like this—whose fault is that? I called you a coward because it’s true! You know it better than anyone! You married me because I was a factory worker—with money and a house! You wanted the status, but deep down you were jealous because you knew you weren’t good enough! You say I’ve become ugly, but whose doing is that? You think if I’m ugly now, it makes you better than me? Dream on! Even now, I’m still better than you! You’re ugly inside and out! And don’t think I don’t know—you stole someone else’s spot to join the army!”

SLAP!

Yang Yao, trembling with rage, struck her across the face.

Zhao Yun froze. Her hand went to her cheek as she turned to stare at him in disbelief.

“You hit me?” she asked quietly.

Yang Yao froze too, staring at his hand as if he couldn’t believe it himself. He gasped a few breaths and quickly stammered, “I… I didn’t mean to. Don’t be mad, okay? I’m sorry, I’m sorry—it’s my fault. I won’t ever do it again…”

Zhao Yun lowered her head. His words sounded distant, as if she were underwater—like she both heard them and didn’t. She pressed her lips together, shook off his hand, turned, and shut herself in the bedroom.

She sat on the bed. Her son had fallen asleep. At some point, her daughter had quietly slipped in. The little girl was patting her brother’s belly, trying to soothe him, though it did no good. She didn’t dare call for her mother. She’d rarely seen her mother fight with anyone—the last time had been when her father died and her grandmother and uncle had come demanding her mother give up her job and house.

But this time, her uncle had hit her mother.

Tang Ying bit her lip and quietly moved closer to Zhao Yun. She placed a small hand on her mother’s arm and met her empty, glassy eyes. Softly, she said, “Mama, don’t cry. You still have me.”

The emotion Zhao Yun had been holding back broke all at once. Her nose burned, and she bent down to hug her daughter tightly, burying her face in the child’s neck, crying silently.

Tang Ying wrapped her little arms around her mother and patted her like she’d done to her baby brother earlier. She wanted to make her mother smile, so she thought hard and said, “Teacher praised me the other day. She said my braids looked the prettiest in class—none of the other kids’ moms can braid as nicely.”

It was a lie. The teacher hadn’t praised her—she’d praised Fu Yanyan. Fu Yanyan wore different braids every day, and Tang Ying admired her so much.

She didn’t understand why her mother didn’t like Auntie Jin. She thought Auntie Jin was nice—she always brought snacks when she came to school to give Fu Yanyan an umbrella.

Fu Yanyan didn’t talk to her much, but once, when she didn’t have an umbrella, Fu Yanyan shared hers. When Tang Ying told her mom that a classmate had walked her home, that classmate had been Fu Yanyan.

Fu Yanyan even gave her pastries once. They were delicious.

She used to think the man downstairs—Uncle Jiang—wasn’t that great, but now she thought he was much better than Uncle Yang. She said angrily, “Uncle Yang is a bad man. He hit Mama.”

Zhao Yun’s arms tightened around her.

Everything upstairs had been loud enough for the people downstairs to hear. After dinner, Jin Xiuzhu hurried the children to wash up and told them not to overthink things.

He Yan hugged the quiet Yang Yingxiong and led him back to their room.

In the kitchen, Jiang Mingchuan and Jin Xiuzhu washed the dishes together. She lowered her voice. “Did you hear what Zhao Yun said just now? About Yang Yao stealing someone’s army quota?”

Jiang Mingchuan frowned deeply. “I’m not sure if we misheard or if they were just arguing nonsense. Even if it’s true, it’s been over ten years—there’s no way to check now.”

Jin Xiuzhu nodded. “Still, if it’s true, that’s disgusting. Those army spots are rare—sometimes a whole brigade doesn’t get one. He stole someone’s chance, and now he’s living comfortably while that poor soul’s probably still toiling away in the countryside.”

The original Jin Xiuzhu had been from the countryside. She knew how hard life there was—people worked all year for work points, even in the rain, and still went hungry.

She couldn’t help asking, “Should we report it?”

Jiang Mingchuan thought for a moment, then said, “Don’t get involved. I’m sure Commissar Zhu next door heard everything too.”

Jin Xiuzhu nodded—true enough. The argument had been loud, and lately Commissar Zhu had been coming home early.

The next morning, Fang Min came over holding her baby, with Zhang Qiulai following behind, looking uneasy. As soon as she entered, Zhang Qiulai grabbed a broom to start cleaning.

Jin Xiuzhu told her to stop, but she only worked harder.

Puzzled, Jin Xiuzhu looked at Fang Min, who chuckled and explained, “She ran into that relative from upstairs yesterday morning at the co-op—the one who stormed out last night. My cousin’s mentioned her before. Every time they meet, that woman loves to pry and gossip.”

Zhang Qiulai straightened up, frowning. “She always pesters me with questions, and I never answer, but she just won’t quit—keeps blocking me on the street! Yesterday, she was bragging that she made fifteen yuan a month and could eat whatever she wanted. I couldn’t hold back and told her I make more than twice that working for my cousin’s family—they pay me forty now, gave me six days off during New Year, and even gifted me clothes and candy. I didn’t even want to take them, but she insisted.”

After saying that, she shot a timid glance at Jin Xiuzhu. Jin Xiuzhu had once told her to stay low-key, avoid gossip, and not to discuss wages or family matters. She hadn’t meant to slip up—but she had—and now she felt guilty.

For some reason, gentle, smiling Jin Xiuzhu scared her more than quiet Fang Min did. She was terrified of upsetting her.

That’s why she’d begged Fang Min to come along and help plead her case—afraid Jin Xiuzhu would get angry and fire her.

Fang Min smiled. “It’s really not her fault. That woman’s nosy by nature. Otherwise, my cousin wouldn’t have said a word to her. But maybe it’s for the best—now that she’s gone, we don’t have to worry about her spreading gossip. Right?”

Jin Xiuzhu heard the hint in her tone, glanced at Zhang Qiulai, and sighed. “Fine, let’s forget it this time. But what you said has caused quite a mess. I think that couple upstairs… they might not last.”

Both Fang Min and Zhang Qiulai froze. Fang Min frowned. “What do you mean?”

Zhang Qiulai wanted to say, It’s just a fight—my brother and sister-in-law fight too, and they’re fine after a few days.

But Jin Xiuzhu said quietly, “If I’m not mistaken, Yang Yao and Zhao Yun are going to split up.”

For the first time, she didn’t call him Captain Yang—just Yang Yao.

However, neither Fang Min nor Zhang Qiulai noticed the change in how Jin Xiuzhu addressed her. The two exchanged glances—both knowing Jin Xiuzhu wasn’t someone who spoke carelessly—and were quite surprised. They hadn’t expected the situation to turn out this serious. Zhang Qiulai, in particular, regretted what she’d said yesterday. “I… I didn’t mean…”

For a moment, she didn’t know what to do.

Jin Xiuzhu comforted her. “It’s not your fault. Even without you, that couple would’ve fallen out sooner or later.”

Zhang Qiulai had only sped up the inevitable. Zhao Yun was a strong-willed woman, while Yang Yao was an ordinary, selfish man. With their personalities, something was bound to happen eventually.

Quarrels between couples were nothing strange—she and Jiang Mingchuan argued too—but they always left some room for each other and never made things too ugly. Yet Zhao Yun, who was usually calm and calculating, had actually torn open Yang Yao’s ugliest side in public. That showed she truly no longer wanted to live with him.

And that slap from Yang Yao last night…

Jin Xiuzhu wasn’t sure whether Fang Min had heard it, but if she were Zhao Yun, she would have left with her child this morning.

Unexpectedly, Zhao Yun upstairs seemed to be enduring it well—no sound, no movement.

The sixteenth day of the first lunar month was when Bai Jingzhi and the three children at home were to start school. Bai Jingzhi had to go early to her school in the city, which meant she couldn’t stay for the Lantern Festival. So Jin Xiuzhu prepared ahead of time and made tangyuan—black sesame and red bean fillings.

After wrapping them, she had the children send some to Qian Yufeng, Wang Ling, and Chef Zhang. They probably didn’t lack such things, but it was a matter of goodwill.

After the Lantern Festival dinner, early the next morning—before dawn—Jiang Mingchuan and the children escorted Bai Jingzhi to the city.

Before leaving, Bai Jingzhi hugged Liu Liu tightly, clearly reluctant to part.

Fang Min laughed. “You’re acting just like a child.”

Bai Jingzhi smiled shyly, then picked up her luggage and left. Jin Xiuzhu accompanied her to the door, instructing carefully, “Be careful getting on and off the bus. Keep your money close. Don’t talk to strangers, and don’t fall asleep too deeply…”

“Got it.”

At the stairway corner, Bai Jingzhi turned and waved with a bright smile, then headed down and disappeared from view, Jiang Mingchuan and the others following behind.

Once they were gone, Jin Xiuzhu closed the door.

Fang Min sighed. “When I first met your sister-in-law, she was shy and reserved. I didn’t expect her to change so much. She’s really a joy to see now.”

Hearing this, Jin Xiuzhu felt a surge of pride.

She remembered that the older servants used to say that women needed to be nourished by a man’s love. You could always tell the favored concubines and wives apart—the ones who were loved looked younger and more radiant, no matter their age.

She had once believed that too. But now, she thought the old servant was wrong. No matter who it is—man or woman—if they are treated with love and care, they will bloom and become better.

Bai Jingzhi was like that. He Yan was like that. Even Yang Yingxiong and Da Ya too.

At first, Da Ya couldn’t even look people in the eye when she spoke. She’d bow her head timidly every time. But at some point, she started visiting others to play, asking Bai Jingzhi questions about her lessons, smiling as she greeted people…

Jin Xiuzhu thought—everyone needs to be loved.

After Bai Jingzhi left, the three children at home also began school.

This year, they didn’t have to walk to the nearby production team’s school anymore. It wasn’t far, but a round trip took forty to fifty minutes—even in good weather. On rainy or winter days, it was miserable. Many children from poor families had only one pair of shoes for the whole winter. When it rained or snowed, they walked barefoot to school, only putting their shoes back on after wiping their feet clean at home.

Fortunately, the elementary school within the army compound was now half finished. Since there weren’t many children in the compound, it was barely usable.

The teachers were chosen from among the soldiers’ wives. So many applied that to be fair, the unit held an exam and selected three Chinese teachers, three math teachers, one for music, one for art, and one for physical education.

Jin Xiuzhu had wanted to apply, too. But when she looked at the baby in her arms, she decided against it.

She didn’t want to have to stop teaching halfway through to change diapers.

Still, it was much more convenient for the children to study within the compound. They could come home for hot lunch every day, and the house felt livelier too.

It was much better than before, when the children had to carry cold meals. In summer, the food spoiled easily; in winter, it was ice-cold. Even if you warmed it on a small stove, only the bottom part got hot while the top stayed cold. At first, her daughter even got diarrhea from eating it.

Now things were much better. They could come home, eat a warm meal, and even take a nap.

But on the second day of school, when her daughter came home for lunch, she said, “This morning, Aunt Zhao came to school—and she took Tang Ying away.”

Jin Xiuzhu paused mid-bite, frowning. “What do you mean, took her away?”

Fu Yanyan shook her head uncertainly. “I don’t really know. Aunt Zhao was holding a bag and pulling Tang Ying along. Tang Ying said she had to get her schoolbag, but her mom wouldn’t let her. She said she wouldn’t need it anymore. They left without even telling the teacher.”

Fu Yanyan had a bad feeling in her heart, but she didn’t want to say it aloud. She had a hunch that it would be a long time before anyone saw that mother and daughter again.

Thinking of it, she felt a strange sense of unreality.

In her previous life, Zhao Yun’s family had always been superior to theirs. Even when nothing was wrong at home, Zhao Yun would find ways to stir up trouble for them. The more chaos there was in her own family, the better Zhao Yun seemed to live.

But this time, Father Jiang and Jin Xiuzhu were happily married, she herself got along well with He Yan, and now Zhao Yun couldn’t live with Commander Yang anymore—and had even left with Tang Ying.

Jin Xiuzhu had a bad premonition, but still comforted her daughter. “Don’t overthink it. Maybe they just went out for a while.”

Around three in the afternoon, the sound of a child crying came from upstairs. Hearing it, Jin Xiuzhu felt a little relieved—she thought she had been mistaken.

But after a long while, the crying didn’t stop. Even Fang Min, who had been napping next door, was woken up. She came over and said, “What’s going on upstairs? Why is the child crying nonstop?”

Jin Xiuzhu shook her head. “Let’s wait and see.”

It was still uncertain, so there was no point speculating.

After a while, the crying stopped.

But by five or six in the evening, the child upstairs started crying again—this time weaker but constant, without pause.

They were having dinner next door that night. After eating, Jin Xiuzhu brought the children home. Not long after they got back, Jiang Mingchuan returned too. Jin Xiuzhu told him to go next door for dinner, but he shook his head. “I’ll just make something simple here.”

The others had already cleaned up over there, and it would only cause trouble to show up late. So he went into the kitchen and cooked a bowl of noodles.

Just as he came out holding the bowl, someone knocked on the door. Jin Xiuzhu was sketching across from him. Jiang Mingchuan told her to stay put, set down the bowl, and went to open the door.

The moment it opened, he saw Yang Yao standing outside with a child in his arms.

Jiang Mingchuan frowned. “What’s going on?”

Yang Yao said in a slightly pleading tone, “Something’s come up. Could you help look after the child for a bit?”

Jiang Mingchuan frowned deeper. “What’s the matter? Where’s your wife?”

Yang Yao said awkwardly, “We had a fight. Zhao Yun left the child and ran off. I’m going to the city to look for her.”

Hearing that, Jin Xiuzhu stood up and came to the door. Without hesitation, she refused. “That’s your child—you should be the one taking care of him. Feeding him is one thing, but we can’t be responsible for his care. If anything happens, we can’t take that responsibility. Just because we accepted Yang Yingxiong as a godson doesn’t mean we have to take care of all your children. We’re not saints.”

Jin Xiuzhu really disliked Yang Yao’s behavior—always preying on their kindness. Yang Yingxiong had lived in their house for so long, yet Yang Yao had never expressed gratitude, not even a simple greeting. And now he wanted to dump another child on them? That was just shameless.

After hearing her, Jiang Mingchuan stayed silent.

Yang Yao looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think it through.”

He truly hadn’t. He had just assumed that since Jiang Mingchuan and Jin Xiuzhu were good people, they wouldn’t refuse. He hadn’t expected a flat rejection.

Fang Min, hearing the commotion, came out and saw the tear-streaked child in Yang Yao’s arms. She couldn’t bear it. “I’ll look after him for a bit.”

Yang Yao brightened. “Thank you, thank you!”

He quickly handed over the child and promised, “I’ll be back soon.”

Fang Min nodded.

She didn’t like Yang Yao either, but the child was innocent—and ever since having her own baby, she couldn’t stand seeing any child suffer.

Yang Yao left.

Watching him disappear down the stairwell, Jin Xiuzhu turned to Fang Min with exasperation. “You’re too soft-hearted. You know what they say—once, twice, and there’ll be a third and a fourth. You’re just inviting trouble.”

Fang Min sighed. “What else can I do? I can’t just ignore the child. And even if I didn’t agree, you’d feel soft-hearted too. My house has fewer kids—it’s fine.”

Jin Xiuzhu didn’t reply. Fang Min was wrong—she wasn’t that kindhearted.

The reason she’d taken in Yang Yingxiong was that he was a good boy, nearly grown, and worth guiding. But this one—he was too young, and his parents were both people she disliked. She wasn’t about to start feeling charitable again.

She closed the door and returned to the living room with Jiang Mingchuan.

There, they saw He Yan and Yang Yingxiong standing at the bedroom door. Yang Yingxiong’s face showed deep worry. He had recognized his father’s voice earlier, and he’d heard the fights between his father and Aunt Zhao in recent days. He’d thought they had reconciled—but now, with Aunt Zhao gone and his little brother left behind, he felt something serious had happened.

He hesitated, looking at Jin Xiuzhu. “Auntie…”

She could read his thoughts and comforted him gently. “It’s alright. You just stay calm. We’ll talk more when your father gets back.”

Yang Yingxiong nodded, his expression settling—though there was a quiet determination behind it.

He Yan greeted Jiang Mingchuan and Jin Xiuzhu, then took Yang Yingxiong back to their room.

Later that night, after washing up, Jin Xiuzhu and Jiang Mingchuan went to bed. Jin Xiuzhu lay on the big bed with Liu Liu, and Jiang Mingchuan squeezed himself in, sandwiching their daughter between them.

Jin Xiuzhu shot him an annoyed glance, then sighed softly. “Yingxiong’s a good boy. Most people can share good times, but not hard times. Yet even with how his father treats him, the moment something happens at home, he still feels responsible.”

Especially since here, he had everything—food, warmth, clothes—and yet he still wanted to go back.

Instead of being upset, Jin Xiuzhu couldn’t help but praise him. “A child with character like that will go far one day.”

Jiang Mingchuan chuckled. “He’s still so young—already predicting his future? But you’re right, he’s a good kid. Probably afraid that if Zhao Yun doesn’t come back, his father will dump the younger one on us.”

Jin Xiuzhu hummed in agreement. He must’ve overheard her earlier saying that Yang Yao and Zhao Yun would split up.

“He’s not stupid. Zhao Yun took only her daughter and left her son behind—she’s not coming back.”

Jiang Mingchuan glanced at their sleeping daughter. Two adults’ failures would only end up hurting the children most.