WRS – Chapter 58

Sure enough, the next morning, Yang Yao knocked on the door next door. It wasn’t clear if he had slept at all that night—his face looked like it had aged ten years overnight. He looked utterly exhausted, his skin sallow and oily, his hair a mess, and his eyes dull with fatigue.

He came to take his son, who had just been fed.

Fang Min didn’t ask much. Just by looking at his empty expression, she could guess that he hadn’t found Zhao Yun and her daughter.

She didn’t know what to say either, so after he left, she held her own son and went to find Jin Xiuzhu.

Jin Xiuzhu was at home painting. She’d suddenly been struck with inspiration and wanted to finish the piece in a few days to give to Wang Ling. Last time she’d advised her to go to the hospital for a checkup—she wasn’t sure if Wang Ling had gone or not.

When Fang Min arrived, Jin Xiuzhu put down her brush, got up to rinse a cup, and poured her some freshly brewed floral tea.

The tea was sweet. Fang Min didn’t know if it was just her imagination, but she felt her skin had gotten much better recently—rosier and smoother. The only difference she could think of was that she’d been drinking Jin Xiuzhu’s floral tea regularly.

Jin Xiuzhu took the baby from her arms. Liu Liu was asleep in the bedroom, but Fan Fan was wide awake and curious. She didn’t try to make him nap, just gently pinched his little hand to play. The little one glanced at her, then turned his head toward the painting on the table, waving his arm as if he wanted to grab it.

After taking a sip of tea, Fang Min told Jin Xiuzhu about Yang Yao’s visit. “He didn’t see Zhao Yun or her daughter. Probably didn’t find them.”

Jin Xiuzhu nodded, unsurprised. “If she could abandon her younger son, she must’ve really made up her mind.”

What kind of mother could bear to leave her child behind?

Fang Min frowned. “But the child’s so small—how’s he going to survive?”

Jin Xiuzhu thought silently, Isn’t that why he came to you?

Fang Min worried for the boy. “He’s still nursing. What a sin.”

But she couldn’t bring herself to blame Zhao Yun either. For a mother to do something like that, she must’ve been utterly desperate—and not only because of herself.

By noon, Yang Yao came down again with his son. This time he didn’t knock on Jin Xiuzhu’s door; he went straight to Fang Min’s and asked her to feed the baby again.

Fang Min looked at the disheveled baby—his little face was streaked with dried tears. She’d washed it clean that morning and even rubbed clam oil on it.

The child was still wearing yesterday’s clothes, stained and grimy across the chest. Clearly, he hadn’t been cared for.

Fang Min couldn’t help but ask, “Why didn’t you change his clothes?”

Yang Yao froze, looked down, seemingly realizing it for the first time, and said awkwardly, “I’ll change him this afternoon—I forgot.”

Fang Min took the baby from him, but the moment her hand touched his bottom, she felt the dampness underneath—it was soaked.

Yang Yao apologized, “Sorry to trouble you. I still have something to do, I’ll pick him up in the afternoon,” and hurried off.

Fang Min frowned as she watched him leave, then looked down at the baby in her arms.

Jin Xiuzhu heard the noise and opened the door. Seeing Fang Min holding the baby, she sighed helplessly.

Fang Min reassured her, “It’s fine, I’m just feeding him a little.”

But Fan Fan wasn’t so understanding. When Fang Min opened the door, he had just woken up and began fussing. Zhang Qiulai brought him out to find her, and when he saw his mother holding another child, he burst into tears.

Fang Min was at a loss—she looked from her son to Jin Xiuzhu.

Jin Xiuzhu quickly took the baby from her, and Fang Min gratefully gathered her son into her arms to comfort him.

Fan Fan buried himself in his mother’s arms, sulking.

The baby in Jin Xiuzhu’s arms began to cry too, and the more she patted him, the louder he cried.

In the living room, Yang Yingxiong, who was eating, heard the commotion. He clenched his chopsticks, then set them down and silently walked over, staring at his baby brother.

Jin Xiuzhu turned her head and smiled. “Go finish your meal. It’s fine—he’ll calm down soon.”

Yang Yingxiong’s eyes were slightly red. “Auntie, give him to me. He’s my brother. I should take care of him.”

He reached out his hands.

Jin Xiuzhu feigned a scolding glare. “Don’t be silly. Go eat. He’s just a baby—you wouldn’t know how to care for him.”

Yang Yingxiong bit his lip.

After urging him to finish eating and rest, Jin Xiuzhu went next door with Fang Min. Fang Min soothed her own son, then brought out a clean set of baby clothes for Yang Yao’s son and even prepared a basin of warm water to wash the baby’s face until he was fresh and clean.

Only after both children had fallen asleep did Jin Xiuzhu return home.

But as soon as she stepped inside, she saw Yang Yingxiong standing there, his belongings packed, waiting for her. He straightened up when she entered, his face showing a maturity and determination beyond his years.

He Yan stood there confused, not understanding what was happening. Only Fu Yanyan kept glancing between the two.

Jin Xiuzhu sighed. “Why do this? He’s your brother, yes, but you’re still a child. You shouldn’t bear this burden. Stay here—your brother will be cared for.”

The truth was, Zhao Yun wasn’t stupid. She’d left with her daughter and abandoned her son because she knew there were soft-hearted military wives in the compound who couldn’t stand to see a baby neglected. Even if Yang Yao didn’t care, someone would help, and though life might be hard, the child wouldn’t starve.

Yang Yao clearly thought the same. That was why he brought the baby to them—he figured Jin Xiuzhu and Jiang Mingchuan were kind enough to take him in, since they’d already adopted his elder son.

But he hadn’t considered what kind of pain that would cause Yang Yingxiong—or whether it would make him feel unwanted.

He Yan hurriedly said, “Yeah, don’t go back! You can’t help much anyway.”

This time, Yang Yingxiong didn’t listen. He knew his auntie was comforting him. Aunt Zhao was gone, his father was busy, and his brother had no one to care for him. Asking others for help once or twice was fine, but not forever—it wasn’t right to keep burdening kind people like Aunt Jin and Aunt Fang.

He slung his schoolbag and coat over his shoulder—the same ones he’d arrived with—and said, “Auntie, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of my brother.”

He even tried to joke, “Next time I come for dinner, I’ll probably bring my brother along.”

Jin Xiuzhu’s nose stung. “You silly boy… whenever you come, Mom will make your favorite dishes.”

The tears Yang Yingxiong had been holding back finally welled up. He didn’t have a mother, but he’d always longed for one. Though Aunt Jin and Uncle Jiang called themselves his godparents, he never dared to call them Mom and Dad.

He had often imagined what his mother might be like. Before, he couldn’t picture her—but now, whenever he tried, it was always Aunt Jin’s face that appeared.

He wanted so badly to call her “Mom,” like He Yan did—but he couldn’t.

Even now, he still couldn’t.

But in his heart, he silently called out: Mom… Mom…

With his schoolbag on his back, he walked out. The moment he stepped through the door, he paused and took a deep breath. He knew that once he left this house, he would no longer truly belong here.

But he didn’t regret it. The time he’d spent here had been the happiest of his life—and that was enough to give him the courage to face what lay ahead.

A knock came from next door.

Then came his voice, speaking to Fang Min.

Fang Min was a bit dazed. She handed over the baby she’d just fed, and after thanking her, Yang Yingxiong carried his little brother upstairs.

He knew his father kept the house key on top of the door frame. Standing on tiptoe, he reached up and found it. Brushing off the dust, he unlocked the door and went in with his brother.

The house was quiet and messy. He laid his sleeping brother on the bed, then went to clean. He had just carried out a basin of water when he saw He Yan and Fu Yanyan in the living room, helping him tidy up.

His eyes reddened. “You guys…”

He Yan smiled. “Even if you go home, you’re still my brother.”

Fu Yanyan asked where the broom was.

Yang Yingxiong set the basin down and hurried to fetch it. As he turned around, he quickly wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

He Yan and Fu Yanyan pretended not to notice.

Downstairs, Fang Min let out a quiet sigh of relief. Taking care of two babies was exhausting, and she honestly didn’t know if she could’ve kept helping forever.

After all, Fan Fan was her own child—she couldn’t bear to let him feel neglected.

She asked Jin Xiuzhu, “What’s with Yingxiong?”

Jin Xiuzhu told her about his decision. Fang Min was moved. “That kid… he’s so straightforward.”

Even though she disliked Yang Yao and Zhao Yun, she could never bring herself to dislike Yang Yingxiong.

Jin Xiuzhu only nodded.

That afternoon, Yang Yingxiong even carried his brother to school. Mimicking how Jin Xiuzhu carried Liu Liu, he wrapped the baby to his chest. When the baby cried, he would run out of class to comfort him.

Most of the children in the compound came from good families, but there were still a few older sisters who brought younger siblings to class, so it wasn’t that unusual. Neither the teachers nor classmates said much.

During recess, He Yan and the others came by to visit, bringing snacks and even helping change diapers.

After school, He Yan told him, “Mom says you should come back for dinner. She said even if you move home, you’re still her godson.”

Yang Yingxiong’s eyes reddened again as he nodded.

That evening, Jiang Mingchuan returned. He didn’t say much—just patted Yingxiong’s shoulder and said, “Let’s eat.”

Yang Yingxiong sat quietly through dinner. After eating, Jin Xiuzhu helped feed the baby. Liu Liu wasn’t as good an eater as Fan Fan, so she still had plenty of milk.

After dinner, Yingxiong washed the dishes and then went home with his brother, careful not to overstep.

He Yan couldn’t bear it. “Can’t we just let him and his brother stay with us?”

Fu Yanyan scolded him. “Are you out of your mind? We’re not running a charity. Why should we raise both sons? People would talk! They’d think we were trying to steal someone else’s children.”

And she wasn’t wrong.

Even He Yan knew it—it was just that he felt sorry for Yingxiong. After finally having some happiness, the boy was back in that miserable home.

Yang Yao, however, seemed pleased. When he came home and saw his older son caring for the baby, he was both surprised and delighted. “Yingxiong, why’d you come back?”

In the past, Yingxiong might’ve said “no reason,” but this time he spoke directly. “I don’t want Aunt Jin and Aunt Fang to be troubled by our family’s mess. They’re good people. Good people shouldn’t be taken advantage of.”

Yang Yao’s face twitched—he felt like his son was scolding him.

Yingxiong continued, “From now on, I’ll take care of my brother, but I have conditions. First, you can’t bring Grandma here. Second, you’ll give Aunt Jin fifteen yuan a month for food. I’ll take my brother there to eat every day.”

Yang Yao was taken aback—his son was negotiating with him, even banning his mother from coming. He didn’t like that at all. He had considered bringing her, but knew she wouldn’t truly help.

He started to wonder if these people had “corrupted” his son.

Fifteen yuan for food—what kind of child ate that much? It was obvious Yingxiong’s heart leaned toward the Jiang couple now.

When Yang Yao didn’t reply, Yingxiong said firmly, “If you don’t agree, I’ll leave right now and won’t care for my brother again. This is your only chance—decide.”

Yang Yao sighed. “Alright, alright. Whatever you say. From now on, I’ll hand my salary over to you.”

Yingxiong felt both relieved and heartbroken.

He’d wanted his father to agree—but hearing it for real, he couldn’t be happy. It meant he was now bound to this family, to this brother, for the rest of his life.