Chapter 121

His sister-in-law was telling him not to work so hard?

Li Dazhuang’s back stopped aching, his legs stopped hurting, and he stood there dumbfounded. His first instinct was: this must be a trap!

He quickly waved his hands and put on a smile, his voice dripping with false sincerity as he said, “Sister-in-law, I know our family’s situation, and with An An eating so much every day, I have to work hard and not slack off. I promise I won’t lose a single Work Point.”

Since he had to work anyway, he might as well say something nice to please his sister-in-law. That way, it’d be easier for his son to mooch off relatives in the future. Li Dazhuang’s mental abacus was clacking away.

But the more he said that, the worse his sister-in-law felt.

Li Dazhuang was working hard from dawn to dusk every day, while her own son had landed a job at the Furniture Factory and was now walking around with his head held high. The contrast was too stark.

She also remembered the old Li Dazhuang—never home, never working, always messing around. Compared to that, she’d be more than willing to support him now, especially for something like a factory job quota.

“It’s fine. You’ve still got me and your brother. Taking a day or two off won’t hurt. Tomorrow, take An An into town for a stroll. If you see something you like, don’t hold back.”

She shoved all her carefully saved private stash into Li Dazhuang’s hands, planning to ask her mother-in-law to contribute some more later that evening.

Her mother-in-law probably wouldn’t refuse. She’d only held back before out of concern for her daughter-in-law’s feelings. Now that she was the one bringing it up, she’d definitely agree.

With the money and ration tickets already in his hands, Li Dazhuang couldn’t bring himself to give them back. He stuffed them into his pocket.

He walked over to his son and squatted down, wanting to pinch the boy’s chubby cheeks.

But just as he crouched, An An hesitantly pulled out his last piece of candy and held it out to him, pouting as he muttered, “It’s the last one.”

“Huh?”

“Papa’s tired, right? If you eat this, you won’t be tired anymore.”

Even though he didn’t want to part with it, An An still offered it up.

Li Dazhuang looked at his son’s heartbroken little face and couldn’t bring himself to take it. He just ruffled his hair and said softly, “I’m not that tired. Let me play on the swing for a bit.”

“Okay.”

An An obediently hopped down. When Elder Brother Li built the swing, he had anticipated that his younger brother would want to try it too, so he made it extra sturdy.

Thankfully, the tree outside their courtyard was big enough to handle Li Dazhuang’s weight with no problem.

That night, while cleaning up after dinner, his sister-in-law brought up the matter to her mother-in-law.

“Mom, Younger Brother-in-law has been working really hard these past few months. He must be exhausted. How about you give him some money and ration tickets tomorrow, so he can take An An to town for a bit?”

Granny Li paused mid-dishwashing and gave her daughter-in-law a suspicious look.

That didn’t sound like something her eldest daughter-in-law would say.

She used to keep a close eye on Granny Li, afraid she’d secretly favor the third son’s family. But now she looked so serious, it didn’t seem like she was lying.

“Really?”

Her daughter-in-law nodded firmly. “Really.”

Granny Li had always doted on her youngest son, and now with An An in the picture, she felt even less stingy.

Her daughter-in-law even volunteered to finish cleaning the kitchen so Granny Li could go give the money to her younger son.

When she saw her mother-in-law wiping her wet hands on her clothes and heading out, she finally relaxed, smiling as she continued tidying up.

She no longer thought of her Younger Brother-in-law as a good-for-nothing. In fact, she felt a little guilty for ever thinking that way.

Now that her son had become a factory worker with a stable monthly wage and the Factory Manager held him in high regard—just the other day, Shitou came home and said he might get promoted next year to a junior section head.

Shitou was honest and not very flexible, but the Factory Manager appreciated that kind of person and was grooming him as a trusted aide.

Once word got out in the village that her son had become a factory worker, a bunch of aunties came offering to introduce him to girls—much better matches than before.

This time, she had asked Shitou in advance, but he turned them all down, saying the Factory Manager wanted to introduce him to a relative of his wife’s after the New Year.

The girl worked at the Supply and Marketing Cooperative, couldn’t get away right now, but she was said to be sweet-natured and had a lucky face.

After that, she gave up on matchmaking and used Shitou’s young age as an excuse to turn the aunties away.

If that match worked out, Xiao Hua would have a brother who was a factory worker and a sister-in-law who worked at the Cooperative—her future would be bright.

The more she thought about it, the more energy she had to clean. In the past, she wouldn’t have even dared to dream of a life like this.

Back then, she only hoped Shitou would marry a good-tempered girl who wouldn’t stir up trouble, and that Xiao Hua could marry well, with a kind husband and a decent mother-in-law.

After finishing the kitchen, she closed the door and stepped into the courtyard, where she saw An An looking up at the stars. She walked over and scooped him into her arms.

“It’s dark now. Kids shouldn’t stay outside.”

“Why not?”

An An looked puzzled. He’d been trying to count the stars for a while but couldn’t keep track.

Still, he had a good temper. Even when interrupted, he wasn’t upset—just curious.

“It’s cold. You’ll catch a chill.”

“Oh~”

An An nodded solemnly, half-understanding. Sister-in-law Li, who already doted on him, couldn’t help but smile at his expression, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes deepening.

After washing up, Li Dazhuang came out to find his son and took An An from her arms, murmuring a thank-you.

An An waved goodbye to his aunt as he snuggled back into his father’s arms.

When sister-in-law Li returned to her room, her husband was still awake. As soon as she walked in, he asked curiously, “Why did you suddenly want Dazhuang to take An An to town? Aren’t you afraid they’ll waste money?”

She shot him a glare while changing for bed. “What kind of big brother are you, being so stingy? It’s just a little money! Dazhuang’s been working his butt off for months. What’s wrong with taking An An to town once in a while?”

Elder Brother Li was stunned by the scolding. Once he recovered, he nudged her shoulder and lowered his voice.

“So… do you still want to divide the household?”

She had gone on and on about splitting the household so many times that his ears were practically calloused.

He had always resisted, pretending not to hear, afraid that if they split, his little brother and the kid would starve on their own.

But as soon as he brought it up today, she kicked him right off the bed.

“Fine, we’ll split—just you by yourself!”

“What? Why me?!”

She couldn’t be bothered to argue anymore, leaving Elder Brother Li lying on the floor, wondering how things had escalated so fast.

The only reason he brought it up was because he was still thinking about that issue and wanted to hear his wife say she no longer wanted to split the household. Only then could he relax.

But he never expected her to turn around and say she’d kick *him* out alone. What the hell?

The next morning, Li Dazhuang set off for the county town with a sleepy An An on his back. He hadn’t eaten breakfast, planning to splurge on something good in town.

Only Granny Li, worried about An An, steamed a sweet potato for him to take along so he wouldn’t go hungry on the road.

Kids An An’s age were usually carried when going to town—their legs were too short, and they’d start whining after just a few steps. It was easier to just toss them in a basket.

Granny had padded the bottom with two layers of old clothes, so it wasn’t scratchy. An An sat there peeling his sweet potato carefully, nibbling at it like a little mouse stealing lamp oil.

Back in his idle days, Li Dazhuang hadn’t been completely clueless. He’d picked up a thing or two during his time loafing around.

He’d never actually eaten at the county restaurants, but he knew exactly which ones were good.

The State-run Restaurant was too expensive. All the money and ration tickets he had would barely cover one meal—not worth it.

He stood outside and looked for a moment, then turned away without shame and bought three pork buns from a nearby stall instead.

The vendor was skilled—the buns were thin-skinned and stuffed full. One bite and the savory juices spilled out. Li Dazhuang hissed from the heat but couldn’t bear to spit it out.

An An, holding his own bun, watched and learned. He took a small bite first, then blew on the filling before continuing.

After eating, Li Dazhuang took An An for a stroll around town and bought some candy at the Supply and Marketing Cooperative. He still remembered how stingy the kid had been with his last piece.

There wasn’t much rare stuff in town. In his head, Li Dazhuang had always wanted to buy this or that, but now that he was here, he realized there wasn’t much he actually wanted—or could afford.

So he bought some sesame candy for An An, wrapped it in paper, and tucked it into the basket.

“Wow~”

An An’s eyes went wide with delight. Seeing his excitement, Li Dazhuang snorted and pinched his nose, lowering his voice.

“You better share some with me when we get home, got it?”

“Okay!”

An An hugged the candy tightly, grinning from ear to ear.

After wandering around town, Li Dazhuang decided to head back. He ran into some old buddies from his loafing days, gave them a nod, and didn’t even stop to chat.

An An might be small, but he was sharp. He picked up everything adults did, and fast.

Li Dazhuang didn’t mind for himself, but when it came to his son, he couldn’t help but be cautious. He didn’t want to set a bad example for the kid.

On the way home, An An sneakily pulled out a piece of candy and popped it into his mouth.

The breeze carried the scent of flowers and leaves, and birds chirped in the distance.

After finishing one piece, he wanted to try another. He swallowed hard, told himself this was definitely the last one, and snuck another into his mouth.

He thought he was being sneaky, but Li Dazhuang had heard the crunching of the sesame candy loud and clear. He just didn’t feel like calling him out.

When they got home, Li Dazhuang told An An to share the candy with Xiao Hua. His sister-in-law had let him take the kid to town—no way he’d let his own son eat it all.

Long-term planning meant giving Xiao Hua a share. That way, his son could keep mooching off the relatives.

And if he kept his sister-in-law happy, maybe he could take An An to town again next time.

“Okay~”

An An hugged the candy and ran off to find his sister, bouncing with joy.

Li Dazhuang got back just before noon. His sister-in-law and Granny Li had assumed he’d take An An to eat in town and had given him some ration tickets just in case.

At lunch, Li Dazhuang shoveled food into his mouth and mumbled, “Eating at the State-run Restaurant costs too much. Better to eat at home.”

Granny Li was pleased to hear that. She felt her youngest son had finally matured and gave him an extra helping of food.

An An wasn’t very hungry after all the candy. He sat with his sister, excitedly recounting everything he’d seen in town. The two of them made a pact to go together next time.

“Let’s have Big Brother take us.”

Xiao Hua was clever. Now that her brother was a factory worker, he had money saved up. Tagging along with him would definitely be better than going with their uncle.

“Okay!”

An An didn’t think too hard about it. He liked both his dad and his brother.

The weather was turning colder. After the bustling autumn harvest, rumors began to spread about a policy allowing Educated Youth to return to the city.

In their production team, some young couples who had been doing well suddenly started talking about divorce—usually the Educated Youth side wanting out.

The Li family had little to do with the Educated Youth, so they just watched the drama unfold. An An sat on his father’s lap, nestled in his arms, and asked softly:

“Why do they have to get divorced? Is that the only way to go back?”

Li Dazhuang looked into his son’s wide, curious eyes and was momentarily at a loss for words.

Divorce wasn’t a requirement to return to the city. It was just that some people, once they saw a chance to go home, no longer wanted their rural partners and pushed for a divorce so they could leave alone.

“Why are little kids asking so many questions?”

Not knowing how to explain it, Li Dazhuang poked his son’s soft cheek and changed the subject.

“Wanna go to the mountain and look for rabbits?”

An An’s eyes lit up. He nodded eagerly, flashing a mouthful of tiny white teeth.

He still remembered how Grandma had said that if they caught a few rabbits, she’d make him a pair of gloves from the fur—perfect for winter.

The last batch of rabbit fur had gone to make gloves for Xiao Hua. An An had been envious ever since.

His aunt had even offered to give him Xiao Hua’s gloves, but An An couldn’t bear to see his sister go cold.

With the promise of going up the mountain to look for rabbits dangling in front of him, An An had completely forgotten about the whole Educated Youth divorce drama. There was no need for Li Dazhuang to coax him any further.

Ever since it became clear that every time An An went up the mountain he’d somehow come back with a bunch of small animals—and even when he didn’t pick them up, a whole trail of them would follow him—Granny Li had grown reluctant to let them take An An along. She was afraid someone might notice there was something unusual about the child.

But An An was still just a kid, and she couldn’t stop thinking about it. So every time, he’d sneak up the mountain with either his father or his older sister.

This time was no different. Not long after they set out, they found two wild pheasants and a rabbit.

They’d done this so many times now that Li Dazhuang no longer felt the same thrill he had at first. He stared at the animals in his hands, a bit troubled.

If he brought these back home, there was no way his mother would believe An An hadn’t gone with him.

An An, worried that Grandma might get angry, tugged gently at his father’s sleeve after they’d walked a while. Once he had his attention, he shared the solution he and her sister had come up with before.

“Dad, can we give them away?”

Li Dazhuang followed An An’s pointing finger and saw the cowshed built from yellow clay.

Most people in the village avoided the folks who lived in the cowshed. The Production Team Leader didn’t like them either and simply pretended they didn’t exist.

Back when Li Dazhuang used to be lazy, he never went up the mountain. After he changed his ways, he only went with a purpose and rarely came this way.

He stood there for a long moment before remembering who lived there.

He wasn’t the type to blindly follow rules, so he didn’t automatically assume the people here were bad. Instead, he thought his son was pretty clever for coming up with a decent solution.

They’d all lived through hard times. It was a shame to waste good food.

Better to give it away—even if it was to someone unpopular—than to throw it out or bring it home and get scolded.

An An held a pheasant in one hand and the rabbit by the leg in the other, standing at the door and calling out:

“Is anyone there? Hello?”

A familiar child’s voice rang out, and Su Xiansheng responded from inside the cowshed.

Only after hearing a reply did An An set the animals down and head down the mountain with his father.

Maybe it was spending so much time with An An, but the rest of the family’s luck seemed to be improving too. Every now and then, they’d come across a wild pheasant or rabbit on the mountain—it had become almost routine.

As long as they only brought back one pheasant and didn’t return home together, father and son could probably get away with it.

Su Xiansheng watched them leave, then waited a while before stepping outside to retrieve the pheasant and rabbit.

He and his wife lived in that cowshed. Just having something to eat was already a blessing—they often went hungry.

But ever since his wife had made it through that difficult time, her body hadn’t fully recovered. She needed nourishment. The herbs on the mountain were hard to find, and they relied on that little boy’s occasional gifts.

To An An, it might just be a way to get rid of a problem. But to them, it was life-saving.

Su Xiansheng didn’t know when he’d be able to leave this place, but whether he did or not, he just hoped his wife would be healthy.

On the way down, the more Li Dazhuang thought about it, the more something felt off. Judging by how familiar his son seemed with the whole process, this clearly wasn’t the first time.

Granny had taught An An to watch his step carefully on the way down, so he didn’t notice the strange look his father was giving him.

Once they reached the bottom and were walking the path home, Li Dazhuang scooped An An up into his arms.

An An was getting bigger by the day, and Li Dazhuang was increasingly grateful that he’d started working hard—he was stronger now. Otherwise, he probably wouldn’t even be able to lift his own son.

Kids An An’s age weren’t usually carried anymore in their village, but Li Dazhuang didn’t care. He liked it.

“Be honest with me—how many times have you done this? Do you even know who lives in that cowshed?”

An An furrowed his little brows and shook his head. He really didn’t know. No one ever explained these things to a child.

He only vaguely knew that most people in the village didn’t like them, but he had no idea why.

“They’re all what we call ‘Stinking Old Nines,’ you understand? If someone sees you sneaking food to them, they’ll start disliking you too.”

“I’m sneaky. I won’t let anyone see.”

That much An An understood. He didn’t want to cause trouble for the family.

“Have they hurt anyone? Or done anything bad to others?”

An An was genuinely curious. After he asked, Li Dazhuang thought about it carefully—and realized, based on what he knew, they actually hadn’t.

“Forget it. Just be extra careful next time, alright? Don’t let anyone see you, got it?”

“Got it!”

When they got home, both Li Dazhuang and An An could sense something was off. They exchanged a glance, and their expressions grew serious.

They thought maybe their little secret had been exposed, but once they saw Granny Li, they realized the anger wasn’t directed at them.

“What’s wrong, Ma?”

The moment Granny Li heard her youngest son’s voice, it was like she’d found a place to vent all her pent-up frustration. Before she could even speak, An An piped up in his sweet little voice:

“Grandma, don’t be mad. You don’t look pretty when you’re mad~”

“Ai, alright, alright. Grandma’s not mad. Help me take this to Grandpa, would you?”

Granny Li handed An An a bamboo cup. He was old enough now to help out around the house.

Running small errands to Grandpa or Uncle was no big deal—he knew the way well, and it was all within the village.

Once An An was out of the way, Granny Li calmed down and finally shared what had happened.

Lately, the Educated Youth households in the village had all been dealing with divorces. Everyone could see what was going on. Those who already disliked the Educated Youth now loathed them even more.

And today, of all things, Xiao Hua had said she liked one of the male Educated Youth at the Educated Youth Point. That had sent Sister-in-law Li into such a rage she’d been lying in bed all day with a splitting headache.

“Xiao Hua? She didn’t seem like the type to be so foolish.”

Li Dazhuang’s face turned serious in an instant. He’d always thought Xiao Hua was smart and capable, destined for great things.

He’d even thought that once Shitou got married and couldn’t be relied on, maybe his own son could cozy up to Xiao Hua—another path to lean on.

“Exactly! She’s always been sensible about everything else. How could she be so muddled about this?”

Granny Li looked pained. No matter how much they tried to talk sense into her, nothing worked. After getting slapped by her mother, Xiao Hua had run off in anger and hadn’t come back yet.

Outside the door, a small figure crept away quietly after hearing the last of the conversation.

Spending so much time with his father had made An An just as nosy and curious. At his age, everything was fascinating.

He’d realized Grandma had deliberately sent him away, so he’d crouched nearby to eavesdrop.

After delivering the water to Grandpa, An An thought about the place he and his sister often went to. From a distance, he saw her sitting on a hillside, hugging her knees with her chin resting on them.

An An ran over and hugged her from behind.

“Jiejie~”

Hearing his voice, Xiao Hua quickly wiped her tears and sniffled.

“What are you doing here?”

In their village, girls Xiao Hua’s age were already being matched up for marriage. They’d get to know someone, grow familiar, and then marry in a few years.

It was because Sister-in-law Li had mentioned it that Xiao Hua brought it up to her mother—and got slapped for it.

An An sat down beside her, resting his chin in his hands and tilting his head as he stared at her.

“Jiejie, why do you like the Educated Youth?”

“Don’t you like them?”

Xiao Hua didn’t answer, instead asking him in return.

An An didn’t even have to think. He shook his head decisively.

“Nope. Don’t like them.”

“Why not? The Educated Youth know so many things. He’s been to faraway places. He said the books hold worlds I’ve never touched before, that ignorance is the root of the unknown.”

Xiao Hua didn’t fully understand what those words meant—she was just repeating what the Educated Youth had said, stumbling a bit as she spoke.

An An picked a wildflower and handed it to her. Only after she took it did he reply:

“But Jiejie, you can do all that without him. You don’t need to be with an Educated Youth.”

After everything the Educated Youth had done, An An couldn’t bring himself to like them. He didn’t want his beloved sister to get involved with them either.

“I don’t need to be with an Educated Youth…”

Xiao Hua repeated the words softly. After a moment of thought, the light in her eyes dimmed again.

“I can’t do it.”

“Yes, you can!”

Compared to her uncertainty, An An’s voice rang out with clear determination.

Xiao Hua looked up into her brother’s bright, beautiful eyes. Her lips curved into a faint smile.

She knew she probably couldn’t do it—but that didn’t stop her from feeling happy that her little brother believed she could.

“You don’t really like him, do you? You just like people who know a lot. Just wait—when I grow up, I’ll know even more. Then you’ll like me.”

An An leaned his head against her arm. Xiao Hua looked down and saw his little face, then reached out and gently ruffled his hair.

The early winter wind was chilly, clearing her mind.

Back when she’d gone to the Educated Youth Point to teach the new arrivals how to sew, she’d overheard their conversations. It had opened a new world to her.

She’d started to feel restless, unwilling to be trapped here. She wanted to see more of the world.

No one at home understood. Her mother just wanted her to marry well. Only one kind-hearted Educated Youth had resonated with her.

But feeling her brother’s small arms around her, Xiao Hua suddenly realized how selfish her thoughts had been.

“Jiejie, don’t be with the Educated Youth. Wait for me to grow up. I’ll be better than all of them.”

Watching a child you helped raise naturally made you biased, and An An had always been clever. Of course Xiao Hua wanted to believe him.

“Alright. But when you grow up, you have to be amazing.”

“Mm!”

An An patted his chest with confidence. Seeing his proud little face, Xiao Hua suddenly didn’t feel so upset anymore.

She stood up, brushed the dust off her clothes, and took his hand to head home.

What had really hurt Xiao Hua wasn’t that her family disapproved of the Educated Youth—it was that her mother had slapped her without hesitation.

She’d never been slapped before. When she got in trouble as a kid, her mother would hit her legs with a broom.

That had hurt, sure—but a slap to the face was different. It wasn’t just pain. It was humiliation.

“Jiejie, don’t like the Educated Youth. They’re all bad.”

An An had seen what happened to the village girls who got involved with them. Once rumors spread that they might return to the city, their boyfriends all wanted divorces. Those girls never smiled anymore.

He didn’t want his sister to end up like that.

“Okay. I won’t like the Educated Youth.”

Xiao Hua could tell that the Educated Youth did have feelings for her. But now that her whole family was against it, she wasn’t the type to go against them for love.

And with her little brother constantly worrying and reminding her, she couldn’t bear to either.

When they got back, An An quietly pushed the door open without making a sound. As soon as they stepped into the courtyard, Xiao Hua heard crying from her mother’s room, along with her grandmother’s comforting voice.

Sister-in-law Li was leaning against her mother-in-law, sobbing uncontrollably. She talked about how hard it had been to raise a daughter, cursed the Educated Youth for being no good, and worried endlessly about Xiao Hua’s future. Her voice was hoarse from crying.

An An reached out and gently took his sister’s hand, looking up at her with concern.

“Ma.”

Xiao Hua’s voice rang out, and the crying inside stopped instantly.

“Ma, I don’t want to be with the Educated Youth anymore. Don’t cry, okay? I just meant… I liked how they looked—like they knew a lot.”

The next second, the door flew open. Sister-in-law Li rushed out barefoot, grabbing her daughter’s shoulders.

“Really?”

Seeing her mother’s red, swollen eyes, Xiao Hua nodded lightly.

“Mm. Really.”

“Good. That’s good.”

An An was pushed to the side. When Granny came out, he gave her a cheeky little wink.

There was no way to keep this matter a secret from the family. Thankfully, Xiao Hua had made it clear that she just liked that type, or else no one in the household would’ve gotten a wink of sleep that night.

After Shitou went to work in the county as a laborer, the distance and his supervisor’s appreciation of him earned him a dormitory in his first year. Since then, he only came home once a month.

This time, after returning, he first handed out the things he’d brought to his younger siblings, then headed straight to his grandparents’ room to discuss something important.

“Expand the house?”

Granny Li shot to her feet the moment she heard her eldest grandson’s proposal. Her first instinct was to refuse—after all, everyone knew how much it cost to build a house.

But the more she thought about it, the more she realized it really was time to expand.

“Grandma, I’ll be getting a bonus at the end of the year,” Shitou explained. “The Factory Manager said it’s a reward for my previous contributions. I was thinking, why not just rebuild the whole thing?”

Back then, the whole family had squeezed into the small courtyard. Xiao Hua slept with her parents, An An with his father, and Shitou had a room to himself.

But now Xiao Hua and An An were growing up. After Shitou left for work in the county, his room had been repurposed. A curtain was hung in the middle to divide the space for Xiao Hua and An An to share.

Every time Shitou came back, he had to squeeze in with his youngest uncle.

As Xiao Hua and An An grew older, An An had moved back to his father’s room. Whenever Shitou returned, the three of them ended up crammed together.

To be fair, it really was hard on Shitou.

On one hand, he was now the most promising member of the family. On the other, he had to share a room with Granny Li’s once most-beloved youngest son and her current favorite, little An An.

Occasional crowding was manageable, but it couldn’t go on forever.

With no factory shifts and nothing urgent in the fields, now was the perfect time to rebuild the house.

Once the decision was made, Grandpa Li went to find the Production Team Leader to get approval for building on a new plot.

The Team Leader was well aware of the family’s situation. He had a good idea of how much money Shitou could bring home now that he was working in the county. With the kids growing up, it was only natural to want to renovate.

After confirming there were no issues, the Team Leader gave the green light. Shitou brought the money home and chose a site not far from their current house.

Of all the family members, An An was the most excited about building a new house. He bounced around the courtyard twice and still couldn’t calm down.

As he got older, An An became increasingly unwilling to share a bed with his father.

Li Dazhuang had developed some bad habits over the years, and they weren’t easy to change—not even for the son he doted on.

In the hotter months, when work left him completely exhausted, he’d come home, eat, and immediately lie down to rest. An An, all sweaty and smelly, couldn’t stand it.

In the village, people rarely refused to lend a hand. Whenever someone had something going on, neighbors would pitch in without being asked. Soon, the construction was in full swing.

If everything went smoothly, the house should be finished before the New Year.

Heaven seemed to be on their side too. That winter, there was only a light snowfall, and the weather stayed relatively mild.

This time, Granny Li specifically told her husband to make sure there were separate rooms for Shitou, Xiao Hua, and An An. Ideally, they’d build an extra room to save for Shitou’s future children.

But halfway through the project, something happened in the village—the third child left behind by the Song family had frozen to death that winter.

The cold hadn’t been severe, but the child’s health was just too poor.

He’d gotten up in the night to use the bathroom, slipped and fell in the courtyard, and by the time the family woke up the next morning, he was already gone.

An An, swinging on the swing in the courtyard, overheard the adults talking and found the name strangely familiar.

That’s when the System appeared, ready to clear up Zai Zai’s confusion.

After Song Laosan passed away, Song Longqi had been taken in by his grandparents.

Though they felt sorry for the boy—mother gone young, father now dead—they still had other grandchildren to care for.

With so many kids in the family, conflict was inevitable. There was no way to show favoritism toward Song Longqi.

As the grandparents aged, they became less inclined to get involved in disputes. They just wanted to get by peacefully, offending no one.

No one knew why, but the boy grew up gloomy and withdrawn, never mixing with the other children.

When the other kids bullied him, all it took was one glare from him, and misfortune would strike them the next day.

If he’d had parents to protect him, they could’ve brushed it off as coincidence. But he didn’t. And once other children pointed fingers, their parents didn’t care whether it was true or not—they pinned the blame on him.

In this village, when kids misbehaved, the standard solution was a good beating.

Song Longqi didn’t take it lying down. After one of his uncles laid hands on him, that uncle had a stroke of bad luck the very next day.

To the Song family, that was proof enough—the boy was cursed!

From then on, the beatings only got worse. Whether or not he was actually involved didn’t matter anymore. As long as someone in the Song family had bad luck, they’d go beat him.

The Secret Art that allowed Song Longqi to absorb others’ fortune required a strong physical foundation.

In the original story, he eventually soared to success. When Xiao Hua first encountered him, he drained her luck, and that very day, her family met their end.

But now, he was getting beaten at home every day. His body grew weaker and weaker, and the Secret Art’s power faded until it was nearly useless.

If you said Song Longqi had been beaten to death by the Song family, the Production Team Leader might go and give him a hard time.

But the thing was, he’d slipped and frozen to death on his own one night. The Production Team Leader had just taken a glance and called the villagers over to handle the arrangements.

After hearing the story, An An popped the candy into his mouth. He adored his sister, so naturally, he harbored a deep dislike for the man who had once tried to kill her.

Even now, hearing about Song Longqi’s pitiful end, he couldn’t muster a shred of sympathy. All he felt was that the man had brought it on himself—he got exactly what he deserved!

The System felt the same way as the little one: sometimes, it takes a villain to deal with a villain.

Song Longqi had been too young, after all, so things were wrapped up quickly. Once that was taken care of, everyone went back to helping the Li Family build their house.

Sister-in-law Li and Granny Li were busy every day, preparing meals for the villagers who came to help. Their household made sure everyone was well-fed.

These days, no one talked about payment. Everyone lived in the same village—if you came to lend a hand, being fed was enough.

Families like the Li Family, who could provide full meals for every worker, were truly rare in the village. Just for that, the folks helping out were more willing to put in the effort.

An An’s favorite thing lately was to drag over a little stool and watch them build the house from a distance.

Chin propped on his hands, his big, beautiful eyes sparkled with anticipation.

How wonderful—not having to sleep in the arms of his stinky, sweaty dad anymore.

————

“Old Nines” or “Stinking Old Ninths” (臭老九) was an insult used during China’s Cultural Revolution to target intellectuals — including teachers, scholars, and other educated individuals.

Mao’s ideology glorified peasants and workers while portraying educated people as elitist and potentially disloyal. Intellectuals faced public humiliation through struggle sessions, dunce caps, and ridicule, and were often forced into manual labor, farm work, or menial tasks such as cleaning toilets.

Their families were also punished, with children frequently barred from education. Associating with intellectuals could politically taint others, creating intense social pressure to betray colleagues or friends.

Even loyal communists were not spared, resulting in broken trust, ruined careers, and the disruption of an entire generation’s education. The persecution largely ended after Mao’s death, marking a major turning point in modern Chinese history.