“No, Big Brother, Big Sister-in-law is really troublemaker, and her heart is not on you,” Song Laosan quickly changed the topic when he saw the old lady couldn’t respond.

Song Qingshan’s voice sounded angry: “A widow and her children, it’s because she can cause trouble, but what good has it brought? Look at the two kids—patched-up clothes, not a single good outfit to wear?”

Song Laosan dared not say anything further.

directly chimed in, “She writes letters to the second son every day. Do you think she stayed here for you? She stayed for your second son. Don’t you know that?”

Song Qingshan furrowed his brow and muttered in frustration, “Mom, can you stop bringing up these old, useless stories? I just got back, and I don’t want to hear this.”

After all, Su Xiangwan hadn’t hidden anything from him, and Song Qingshan wasn’t unaware of it.

“Ludan, get out of here!” Outside, Song Fu suddenly shouted.

Song Qingshan swiftly lifted the door curtain and saw a six-year-old boy, tall and thin, with almond-shaped eyes, a straight nose, and tightly pursed lips.

He was holding a stick and facing off with Song Fu.

“You’re Ludan, right? Come inside,” Song Qingshan extended his hand and said.

Song Fu immediately added, “His nickname is Shit Pot because he always picks up manure, and he smells just like it.”

Song Qingshan’s face immediately darkened.

Lu Dan, who hated being called Shit Pot more than anything, turned red in the eyes and immediately ran off.

“He has a name—Song Donghai,” Song Qingshan turned and pointed at Song Fu. “Your name is Song Fu, right? You’d better remember his name.”

Who would want their child to be called a stinking shit pot?

Song Qingshan, with his good temper, would have already kicked him out, but he held back.

Song Laosan immediately slapped his son: “Don’t call Ludan ‘Shit Pot’ again. We’re brothers, and that’s disrespectful!”

“You’re always calling him that too,” Song Fu was quick to tear down his father.

“Alright, alright, Baoyu, Qingyu, you two hurry up and clean up. I’ll make a meal for Big Brother,” quickly intervened Old Lady Song.

Song Qingyu and Fang Baoyu, who had been standing outside, rushed off to the kitchen.

Song Qingshan stepped out of the main room, wanting to take a look around his home.

Song Laosan hurriedly followed him.

He pushed open the door to the east room where Song Laosan and his wife lived, glanced around, then opened the west room where Song Qingyu lived, and finally stopped in front of the small room where Su Xiangwan had lived.

Song Laosan had already emptied it out, and now it was filled with miscellaneous items.

He was about to leave when Old Lady Song chased after him: “Your dad’s making tea for you, sit down and drink it slowly, why are you leaving?”

“Isn’t the family split now? Don’t I need to go back to my own house?” Song Qingshan asked.

Old Lady Song quickly added, “Should I send Old Third to follow you?”

“I’m not lost. Why does Third Brother need to follow?” His tone was calm, but it was clear he was upset because his wife and children had been mistreated.

“That truckload of things, you need to bring it back to our house,” Old Lady Song insisted.

Song Qingshan furrowed his brow: “Has the family run out of food? Can’t you light the stove?”

“Well, no,” Old Lady Song hurriedly replied.

Clearly, the Song family’s place was the wealthiest in the village.

“Well, as long as we’re not starving, it’s fine,” Song Qingshan said as he turned to leave.

Just as Song Qingshan stepped out the door, a black shadow rushed past him in a blur.

It was none other than the long-legged, delicate-faced Ludan, holding the stick and running incredibly fast.

His little backside was sticking out, and his legs moved like windmills, making him run with remarkable speed.

The former landlord’s big courtyard is now a labor re-education center.

From the outside, it looks spacious since it was once the landlord’s property, with slogans posted on the walls: “All landlords, rich farmers, and counter-revolutionaries must accept re-education through labor!”

The red exclamation marks were striking, and the three large characters for “Labor Re-education Center” were painted over many times in red.

The doors to all the rooms in the courtyard were heavily guarded with iron bars, and more slogans were posted. In the corner, there was a small room with its door open.

Song Qingshan had been to the old landlord Song Bapi’s house before and remembered that this room was used to store miscellaneous items.

The seal on the door had been torn off, and inside stood a baby in the window.

There was only a half-worn quilt on a thin mat with no cotton blankets, and on the ground lay a woman preparing powdered milk for the baby.

There was also a five- or six-year-old boy, looking strong and healthy, crouched beside the woman.

The room had only two smooth, large tree roots serving as stools. There was no table, only a stove.

This, was Song Qingshan’s home.

Su Xiangwan let him look around.

Since he didn’t ask, she didn’t speak either.

Lu Dan appeared from nowhere, standing beside Su Xiangwan, looking wary at this unfamiliar, tall man who had suddenly barged into their home.

“You have a name. It’s Song Donghai. From now on, if anyone dares to call you ‘shit pot,’ just grab a stick and hit them. Don’t be afraid. If anyone gets hurt, I’ll take responsibility,” Song Qingshan said to his son.

Lu Dan sniffed and gave a small grunt.

Donghai, to Ludan, didn’t have any clear concept or impression, but “sea” seemed to be bigger than “river” and sounded quite impressive.

When Goudan heard the name “Donghai,” although he didn’t know what it meant, it sounded nice, and he wanted to ask if he also had a name and what it was.

However, in his heart, he felt that Zhao, the cadre, seemed more like a father to him. So, after thinking about it, he decided not to ask.

“Is there a basin? I need to wash my hands,” Song Qingshan suddenly stood up and walked over to Su Xiangwan.

He was so tall, and being a soldier, his face was dark and fierce-looking.

Lu Dan and Gou Dan thought he was going to hit their mother, and they instinctively rushed over, hugging her to protect her.

“This is your father. He’s not like your Uncle Laosan. He doesn’t hit people. Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid, okay?” Su Xiangwan hurriedly reassured them.

The two children slowly loosened their hold on her.

At home, there were two basins—one for washing vegetables and cooking, and the other for washing faces—both of which Su Xiangwan had bought at a high price from the black market.

She fetched half a bucket of water from the well using an old bucket, mixed in some hot water, and placed the basin on the ground. “We’ve just split the family, and we’re poor. Even the rack for a face-washing basin is missing, so you’ll have to squat and wash.”

Song Qingshan splashed water on his face and neck, rubbing himself down.

Then he asked, “Do you have a towel?”

Su Xiangwan pulled a towel from the rope behind the door and handed it to him. “Here it is.”

Suddenly, with a strong grip, he grabbed her hand.

His hands were large and calloused, especially at the thumb, making Su Xiangwan’s hand ache from the pressure.

The grown woman, Su Xiangwan, was startled, realizing that she was now legally married to this unfamiliar man.

She tried to pull away, but couldn’t.

“I’m not talking about anything else. You’ve worked hard these past two years. If you’ve been faithful, I appreciate it. If you hadn’t been, I wouldn’t say anything. After all, I was presumed dead, and if you wanted to live however you like, that’s fine. You’ve done nothing wrong,” Song Qingshan said.

Su Xiangwan thought to herself, “This man’s not bad. He doesn’t say much, but when he speaks, he makes it clear.”

Before Su Xiangwan could respond, there was a loud clatter outside: “Hey, hey, strange person, come out here!”

Song Qingshan immediately pushed open the window.

Outside were Ludan and Song Laosan.

Song Laosan was holding at least five radios in his arms and mumbling about a flashlight, preparing to run, while Ludan was desperately tugging at his leg.

“Old Third, put it down,” Song Qingshan ordered.

As it was getting dark, the flashlight in Song Laosan’s hand flickered, shining wildly as he moved.

Goudan, more aggressive than Ludan, didn’t even get off the bed and leaped out the window.

He quickly shut the door behind him and shouted, “That person told you to put it down! Anyone who doesn’t put their things down, I’ll beat him down!”

The little brat was getting bolder with his words.

Song Laosan dropped four of the radios but was still holding one. “Big Brother, Dad wanted a radio to listen to the news.”

“Put it down,” Song Qingshan growled, making both Lu Dan and Gou Dan shiver.

With a clatter, Song Laosan dropped all the radios and said, “Mom called you to dinner. She made your favorite cornmeal with beans and fried rice. It’s ready. Hurry up and eat.”

Su Xiangwan took the chance to break free from Song Qingshan’s grip, and she looked slightly embarrassed but asked, “What do we do with those things?”

She was referring to the radios, flashlights, and the several bundles of preserved meat that she had brought back in the truck.

Su Xiangwan was torn.

Should she act weak and submissive? The truth was, she couldn’t act that way.

Should she give those things to the Song family? She didn’t want to, and she wouldn’t even feed the dogs to them.

“If it were up to me, I’d take everything. Can you give it to me?” Su Xiangwan retorted, and in doing so, she freed her hand.

Song Qingshan raised his voice and called out to Song Laosan, “Those things belong to my comrades. Old Third, bring everything inside.”

“Bro, why do I have to move things?” Song Laosan asked with his hands raised.

Song Qingshan replied, “Because you’ve always been lazy and waiting for your brother to do everything for you. Now move them!”

Well, after failing to steal, Song Laosan, under the pressure of his elder brother, began unloading things from the tractor’s bucket into the house.

“Let’s go, we’ll all go back to the old house for a meal,” said Song Qingshan after watching Song Laosan unload everything.

He picked up the little one who was crawling on the kang and trying to stand, and added, “Let’s go, we’ll eat at your grandma’s house.”

Since Ludan and Goudan hadn’t left yet, he said, “Come on, let’s go to your grandma’s for dinner.”

At this moment, Su Xiangwan thought that, for now, this man seemed to be behaving decently, and she could continue observing him.

So, she followed along and went to the old house for dinner.

At the Old Song House.

Old Lady Song, Fang Baoyu, and Song Qingyu were all stunned.

If you were to talk about being mistreated, abused, or even being forced to get up by Su Xiangwan, Grandmother Song would admit that she hadn’t been kind to her in the past.

Yes, she had never even given her a torn quilt, essentially kicking her out like dirt, and the village women would gossip about her so much that they’d avoid Grandmother Song on sight.

Now, the three of them sat in silence, not knowing what to say.

Just then, Big Brother said he wanted to eat his mother’s fried noodles, and Grandmother Song immediately went to the kitchen.

While urging Qingyu to start the fire, she asked Baoyu to add water and wash the vegetables as she began cooking.

Cornmeal mixed with soybean flour for fried noodles, a stir-fried potato dish, heating up cornmeal cakes, pickled salted leeks, and sour pickled cabbage—all were laid out on the table.

As she cooked, Grandmother Song thought to herself: her eldest son was a soldier, and he would leave in a few days at most, right?

Once he left, she would just stop fighting with Su Xiangwan, waiting to receive the money she always got every month. After all, her eldest son always sent the bulk of his money to her.

So, a harmonious family meal began.

Grandmother Song’s cornmeal mixed with soybean flour fried noodles, red chili oil, salted leeks, and mustard greens, along with a pot of sour pickled cabbage, were delicious.

Moreover, Old Lady Song kept insisting that Ludan and Gou dan eat more: “You two children, eat more. Xiangwan, you should also eat more. Your man is a soldier, and he’s not home often. You’ve had the hardest time. Since he’s back, you can let all your frustrations, exhaustion, and anger out on him. He’s a man, he can take it.”

This was meant to prevent her daughter-in-law from slandering her and accusing her of wrongdoing. Old Lady Song said this deliberately.

After all, in a family, both sides had their reasons.

Su Xiangwan had never hidden her affection for Song Tingxiu and often wrote letters to him. Everyone in the village knew this.

Song Qingshan knew too.

As long as there was a misunderstanding between her and Song Qingshan, Grandmother Song was not afraid of Su Xiangwan exposing her to others.

“But, Eldest son, what unit are you working in now? When are you leaving?” Old Lady Song hurriedly asked as she filled her son’s plate with fried noodles.

Su Xiangwan also listened intently.

Then Song Qingshan said, “Mom, I need to tell you something seriously. Our unit’s designation has been disbanded, and I have no unit to return to.”

Su Xiangwan smiled faintly.

Old Lady Song almost jumped up: “What did you say?”

You’re not leaving?

“What about your salary? Will you still get paid every month?” Grandmother Song asked with a trembling voice.

Song Qingshan looked serious: “The unit is completely dissolved, there’s no salary.”

Old Lady Song sat down, as if feeling around for something, but in the end, found nothing. She spoke helplessly: “Don’t you have a designation? You belong to the military; you can be discharged, right? Once discharged, like your uncle, you could become an official?”

Old Lady Song’s maiden surname was Cao, and although she was just a rural woman, her brother was a political commissar at the county hospital.

So, he had been discharged from the military.

Song Qingshan was serious, and his tone turned a little heavier: “We are different from the regular army. There’s no discharge for us. I can only return to the village and slowly see if I can find a job.”

If he couldn’t find a job, would he become a regular citizen?

It was like a huge, trembling, multicolored bubble under the sun, and once it popped, everything was gone.

Suddenly, Old Lady Song lowered her head.

The moonlight coldly illuminated her half-gray hair at fifty-two, and she said, in a difficult tone, “Forget it, forget it. I thought you were dead, but since my son has come back alive, what else could I ask for?”

These words genuinely brought a sense of relief, showing a mother’s deep joy and gratitude upon her son’s return, transcending the temptations and madness driven by money.

Su Xiangwan was stunned. This man seemed so serious, but he was lying!