After a pause, Old Lady Song said again, “That pension, it’s probably the last money you’ll ever make in your life, isn’t it? Do you know that your wife took four hundred and twenty of it with a single stroke, planning to live a good life with Zhao Guodong, huh?”

At this point, she still wanted to divide that money.

Song Qingshan spoke sharply, “That’s the country’s money; it has to be paid back. Mom, how much did you take? You need to give it back to me now.”

“Take what? I never took a penny,” Old Lady Song immediately replied.

Qingyu and Fang Baoyu also said, “No, Mom never took any money.”

Clearly, it was something that could be exposed when it reached Village Head Han’s place, but the women all worked together and spoke as if it were the truth.

Eighty yuan—nowadays, that could buy a thousand jin (about 500 kilograms) of fine white flour, while in the commune, each person got only five jin of fine flour per month.

This meant that to earn a hundred yuan’s worth of white flour in the commune, one would need to work for a full sixteen years. In sixteen years, Xiao Zhi Zhi would be married.

“We took eighty; you should quickly return it to the eldest,” Old Man Song interjected with a fair remark.

Song Laosan quickly said, “Yes, we did take eighty, but the family’s expenses were large, and it was all spent long ago.”

“Even if the money is all spent, it’s fine. I’ll find a way for you to pay me back myself,” Song Qingshan stood up. “Alright, everyone disperse. We need to go home.”

Goudan had cracked a tooth and was already tired and sleepy after the long day.

He was lying on Su Xiangwan’s lap, and Su Xiangwan was gently rocking the little one, who was fast asleep in her arms.

The night air was cool, and the soft, little girl in her arms felt like a natural warm baby, smell of milk.

It was so comforting.

Song Qingshan, without asking, went over to pick up Goudan.

“I don’t want you to carry me. I want my mom to carry me,” Goudan pushed him away, refusing to be carried by Song Qingshan.

Su Xiangwan patiently said, “That’s your dad. What’s wrong with having him carry you?”

Goudan still felt that his father wasn’t as good as Officer Zhao, so he climbed up, shook his head, and slowly walked away.

Ludan, because of his uncertainty over the name Donghai, felt nervous.

He was suddenly picked up by Song Qingshan. The child had never been carried by an adult before, and he felt dizzy and disoriented but strangely excited at the same time.

Song Qingshan took out a flashlight from his pocket and turned it on.

He was walking slowly, but the flashlight shone backward, meaning that he was walking in the dark, only lighting the way for Su Xiangwan.

Well, this guy does have some boyfriend points.

However, how many of the things he said could actually be trusted?

After all, it was mentioned in the book that he had a job, and it was a high-ranking one.

But now, if she brought up the compensation money, would she also come off like the old lady, a leech?

The man in front of her didn’t speak; it seemed like he was still trying to figure out which way to go.

Of course, he left for the army in 1953, and since then, he’d spent only seven days in the village. It was no wonder he didn’t recognize the roads at night.

“About that money, do you really want them to pay it back?” The concern over money finally overtook his sense of shame.

With the extra money, Su Xiangwan wouldn’t have to work ten jobs to earn labor points.

She could buy some fine white flour from the black market to get by, and with the three kids, she could manage.

But if the money ran out, wouldn’t she have to go work in the fields to earn labor points?

The man in front of her suddenly asked, “Do you want them to pay it back?”

Su Xiangwan immediately responded, “It’s the country’s money. Do you think I can just decide not to pay it back? But I’ll tell you clearly, I can only pay back 400. The rest, you figure it out yourself. Your mother’s debt has nothing to do with me.”

The man suddenly stopped. “This should be the road.”

Tonight was the fifteenth of August, and the moon, unaffected by air pollution, was particularly bright.

Su Xiangwan, holding one child, with another half-asleep around her waist, bumped into his back.

“You, when you stop, can you say something first?” she said, a bit annoyed.

His back was wide and solid.

“I was shot down from a plane due to some reasons, and since no one recognized me locally and I couldn’t reveal my unit number, I was mistaken for a spy from the Soviet Union and locked up in the Haixi County prison for a year,” Song Qingshan said slowly, his voice soft.

Su Xiangwan listened and thought to herself, This is bad. His story is exactly like the one in the book.

But this man was real. He was so close to her that she could see the slight movement of his temple as he spoke.

“After a year, because I behaved well, I was transferred to a labor camp. From there, I escaped and made it back to our unit,” Song Qingshan continued, pausing briefly before spreading his hands. “But the unit no longer exists.”

“Okay, I understand why you were thought to be dead and why you suddenly came back. But why didn’t you write a letter before coming?” Su Xiangwan asked.

You’d think that for a living person, if he was alive, why not write a letter home to reassure them?

“I first went to Beijing and repeated my statement. Once they confirmed I wasn’t guilty, they just released me,” he explained quietly.

He paused again before adding, “Forget it. You wouldn’t understand. Just know that I’m back now.”

If it were anyone else, they might not understand Song Qingshan’s words.

But Su Xiangwan did. In her previous life, her grandfather was involved in the nuclear industry, so she was very familiar with the history of the 1960s.

At that time, the spy wars in the north were just as dangerous as those along the coast.

Imagine a plane crash where everyone died except for one person. It was lucky if that person wasn’t suspected of being a spy, let alone allowed to send letters to the outside world.

Well, everything he went through matched exactly what she had read in the book.

That meant the things he just said to his parents were all lies.

He didn’t really have a job, but the work he was about to take on was probably something the villagers couldn’t even imagine.

Back at the house, Goudan didn’t bother washing his feet and just jumped onto the kang.

Ludan was a bit better, swaying as he looked for water to wash his feet.

Su Xiangwan heated some water in the stove and, turning around, saw Song Qingshan standing with his hands in his pockets, curiously staring at the three kids.

She asked, “Are you going to wash your feet?”

“You go first, then let the kids wash, and I’ll wash last,” Song Qingshan replied.

Su Xiangwan washed her face first, then filled a basin with water for the kids, forcing the two little ones to wash their feet.

Afterward, she washed her own feet and handed the water to Song Qingshan.

Sure enough, he started washing his feet with the water she had used.

In this large courtyard of the landlord’s house, there was more than one kang. Though the other rooms had iron bars and a bit of wire.

Su Xiangwan, of course, didn’t want to sleep in the same bed with this man.

After all, he and the original body had no real relationship, yet they had three kids together.

The first time they slept together, the purpose was just to have children.

While this wasn’t unusual now, Su Xiangwan couldn’t approve of this behavior, even if she had crossed over.

“Well, if you don’t want to…”

“You didn’t want it, did I touch you?” Song Qingshan retorted.

He was different from the children.

He even brushed his teeth, carefully cleaning each one, then splashing all the water outside before coming in to sleep.

After all, the bed in the rich family was big. Su Xiangwan often woke up in the middle of the night to check on the children, because they rolled all over the bed and could end up anywhere.

At this moment, Song Qingshan, far away from the others, was sleeping on the upper bed.

And once he lay down, he fell asleep immediately.

He slept as straight as if standing in military posture, without saying a word.

The family at the labor reform point could sleep soundly, but the family in the old house couldn’t sleep a wink.

After all, the eldest wasn’t leaving anymore and had become an old farmer.

This situation was enough to make the old lady’s hair turn gray.

What she had always been proud of in Songjia Village was that two of her sons had joined the army, receiving allowances and subsidies.

Only the third son was here to show filial piety, bringing money into the home every month, right?

Look at her bedding.

Everything was made of cotton and wool, not like most families in the village who used simple matting for their children, no matter the season.

If the eldest really did become an old farmer and started farming, then the things he brought back couldn’t just be quietly sold off by Su Xiangwan, right?

You see, now a flashlight costs five yuan.

Who wouldn’t want one?

After all, for a young couple getting married, having a flashlight as a wedding gift or dowry is something fresh.

That flashlight had to be brought back by Song Qingshan.

After some discussion, the old lady and Song Laosan decided to wait for a few more days.

After all, what if Song Qingshan was lying, right?

But after three days, Song Laosan found out that the eldest truly wasn’t leaving.

Every morning, he would go to the old house for a meal, saying it was to handle his household registration.

Then he would take the tractor out and be gone all day.

When he came back in the evening, he would have another meal, chat with the old couple for a bit, and even personally help with washing their feet and feeding the donkey.

He was quite handy around the house.

Of course, he hadn’t been back for many years, so showing filial piety to his parents and even to the neighbor Song Guangguang, who kept scolding his sons, saying they were no match for Song Qingshan’s filial devotion.

When he returned to the labor reform point, he immediately went to sleep.

Song Fu and Jin Gui often ran around.

Song Laosan even sneaked out in the middle of the night to eavesdrop, fearing that Su Xiangwan would report him.

But what did he find? Song Qingshan and Su Xiangwan didn’t say a word to each other.

Neither did they mention Song Tingxiu nor the mistreatment Su Xiangwan had suffered from the old lady over the past two years.