Chapter 51: No Regrets About This Choice

No matter how you looked at it, the sight of little Mengmeng, just over two years old, struggling to carry a toy car the size of a soccer ball and handing it to a boy half a head taller than her, was a bit out of place.

But it was happening right before their eyes.

Dongdong’s gaze was glued to the toy car—he couldn’t look away.

It was obvious he liked the toy, but he didn’t know how to communicate, and felt too shy to take it.

“Gege, here!” Mengmeng took another step forward. “It’s heavy.”

“Dongdong, take it. Say thank you to your cousin,” Li Xiaojuan coaxed gently.

But Cheng Tiandong really wasn’t good at talking. He bit his lip, eyes still fixed on the toy car, one hand clutching Grandmother’s clothes. He glanced at his grandmother, then at his little cousin Mengmeng, but just couldn’t get the words out.

Mengmeng could barely hold on anymore. With a careless slip—clunk!—the toy car dropped to the ground.

Mengmeng let out a little “Ouch!” Luckily, she wasn’t tall, so the toy didn’t break.

Seeing the car on the floor, Dongdong didn’t hesitate this time. He quickly squatted down, scooped it up, and hugged it to his chest. “Tha…thank you!”

“Heehee.” Mengmeng broke into a wide, delighted grin when her cousin said thanks.

Li Xiaojuan took a hand of each child and led them into the house.

“Mom, your chicken’s almost boiled dry—I added some hot water,” Cheng Xiaolin called out, coming out of the kitchen just as her mother walked in.

“I got caught up talking to you all and forgot to check the pot,” Li Xiaojuan replied.

She turned to her daughter. “Did you taste it? Is it almost done?”

Cheng Xiaolin nodded. “Tastes fine to me, but for Dongdong and Mengmeng, better let it stew a bit longer.”

This was just an ordinary farmhouse courtyard—red bricks, concrete slabs, a spacious yard, everything neatly organized.

Cao Shujie came to relieve his wife in the kitchen. “Go keep Mom company, I’ll watch the pot.”

Seeing his nephew Cheng Tiandong come in hugging the toy car, with his daughter Mengmeng beside him, Cao Shujie thought his nephew was doing better. He waved him over, but Cheng Tiandong just glanced at him and didn’t move.

“He’s a bit withdrawn,” Cao Shujie muttered to himself, watching his nephew.

He knew exactly why, but it wasn’t something he could fix.

The aroma of chicken drifted from the pot. Cao Shujie checked the time, lifted the lid, and tasted a piece—the meat fell apart at the slightest bite.

“Time to dish up.” He turned off the gas and carried the pot straight to the north room.

During the meal, Li Xiaojuan bustled about, making sure her grandson and granddaughter ate first. She wasn’t in a hurry herself.

That was when Cheng Xiaolin noticed something.

Her daughter was gripping a spoon, using her own little bowl to shovel meat into her mouth.

But her nephew, Cheng Tiandong, just sat there quietly, waiting for Grandmother to feed him.

He was a little over three. Not that it was wrong, but compared to Mengmeng, the difference was obvious.

Li Xiaojuan tried to feed another piece of chicken to Mengmeng, but Mengmeng refused. “Nana, Mommy Buddha, I eat myself.”

With her mouth full of chicken, Mengmeng’s words were muffled and unclear.

“It’s fine,” Li Xiaojuan said, about to try again, but Cheng Xiaolin interjected, “Mom, we don’t feed her. Let Mengmeng eat by herself.”

Hearing her daughter, Li Xiaojuan finally relented. She turned to feed her grandson, but Cheng Xiaolin protested, exasperated, “Mom, Dongdong’s old enough—let him eat by himself.”

“No use. He doesn’t eat properly. If you don’t watch him, he’ll take half an hour to finish a meal,” Li Xiaojuan insisted.

Cheng Xiaolin wanted to argue, but her husband tugged her sleeve. Cao Shujie shook his head, signaling her to let it go and just eat.

After the meal, Mengmeng was sent to play in the yard with her cousin Cheng Tiandong. Only then did Cheng Xiaolin finally speak her mind.

It was clear Li Xiaojuan wasn’t ignorant—she understood reason, but putting it into practice was another matter.

“Mom, can’t you let Yingying come home? Or maybe let them find some work nearby,” Cheng Xiaolin suggested.

“If that doesn’t work, they could lease some land here and plant fruit trees,” she added.

Li Xiaojuan shot her a look. “Linlin, just because your in-laws made money growing fruit trees doesn’t mean everyone can. It’s not that easy.”

Clearly, that idea wouldn’t work. Some things just weren’t as simple as they seemed.

But over dinner, Cao Shujie and Cheng Xiaolin noticed their nephew Dongdong seemed much livelier. Under Li Xiaojuan’s gentle guidance, he even started calling them “Auntie” and “Uncle.”

Seeing her grandson’s change, Li Xiaojuan was overjoyed. She could tell that when her grandson played with her granddaughter, his mood improved a lot.

But it wasn’t realistic to expect her granddaughter to stay here long-term just to keep her grandson company.

That night, Cao Shujie and Cheng Xiaolin’s family of three rested in the room Li Xiaojuan had prepared for them. Mengmeng was practicing somersaults on the bed.

She was careful, tucking her head into the quilt before curling up and rolling forward.

After a successful somersault, Mengmeng chirped excitedly, “Daddy, your turn!”

Cao Shujie looked embarrassed. With his old back, he’d probably throw it out if he tried.

Cheng Xiaolin couldn’t help but laugh. She scooped up her daughter. “Mengmeng, stop messing around. Your dad’s old bones can’t handle it.”

“I can do it!” Mengmeng insisted, glaring at her parents, eager for praise.

Cao Shujie and Cheng Xiaolin indulged her, watching their easily satisfied daughter. Thinking of their quiet nephew, the couple shared a silent understanding.

“Honey, I really think we made the right choice coming back,” Cheng Xiaolin said softly. “It’s not about how much money we make a year, or whether Mengmeng has to go to school in Beijing. As long as our family is happy, that’s what matters.”

The contrast between their daughter and nephew only made her more certain they’d made the right choice.

Is Beijing good?

In every way—convenience, opportunities, education—it was great.

But her husband was working himself to the bone in Beijing, his health visibly declining, his spirit worn out. They barely had time to spend with Mengmeng.

Now, without all that mental strain, it felt like everything had fallen into place.

Her husband’s energy was coming back, he was healthier than he’d ever been in Beijing, and now they could be there to watch Mengmeng grow up every single day. It was wonderful.

As for money, she’d always believed as long as they had enough to spend, that was enough. What good was earning more if you worked yourself to death?

…

The next afternoon, after lunch at her mother’s house, Cao Shujie and his family of three set off in their car, Li Xiaojuan watching them go with reluctant eyes.

As the car drove away, Cao Shujie glanced in the rearview mirror and realized the one most affected was actually his nephew, Cheng Tiandong.

He clung to Grandmother’s hand, jumping up and down, trying to chase after their car.

Seeing this, Cao Shujie sighed. But he knew that even if they stayed a few more days, it wouldn’t solve the real problem.

“Honey, should we just head home? I’ll call my mom and let her know,” Cheng Xiaolin asked.

Cao Shujie shook his head. “Let’s stop by Ji Guangyou’s place first and settle up for the fruit tree saplings.”

Hearing this, Cheng Xiaolin said nothing more.

Maybe because she’d been playing with her cousin all morning and hadn’t napped, Mengmeng fell asleep on her mother’s lap not long after they set off.

Cheng Xiaolin gently smoothed her daughter’s hair, watching her sleep so peacefully, her heart full of contentment.

(End of chapter)