Chapter 28: Wanting Both This and That

Second Grand Uncles Lizheng’s home sat at the western end of the village, while Chunsheng’s house was located at the far eastern edge.

Little Qiusheng ran ahead, with Song Jinxiu and Song Jinfang on either side, each helping Fuquan push the cart.

Along the way, they were greeted warmly by the aunts and elder women they passed.

“Chunsheng’s been discharged? His leg’s all better now?”

“He’s recovered, but he still can’t walk just yet.”

“Well, of course—not surprising, they say it takes a hundred days to heal tendons and bones. Eh? Isn’t this Sanya? Weren’t you—huh? You weren’t sold?”

Song Jinxiu couldn’t help but feel a vein pop in her forehead.

“Aiya, is that so? Who’s the dimwit spreading nonsense? I knew it—your family is blessed. Saving a life isn’t easy, after all. It’s only right for someone to repay that kind of kindness.”

The two dimwits responsible for spreading the gossip were, in fact, right there—one cradling her belly while munching on sunflower seeds, the other picking at her large yellow teeth with a seed shell as they both stared over in this direction.

It was none other than Widow Sun and Qian Daya, Song Erzhu’s wife.

Widow Sun frowned and jerked her chin forward. “Eh? Second Sister-in-law, look over there—isn’t that them?”

“Isn’t it just those little brats? Back from the hospital already?” Qian Daya narrowed her eyes. “Better go tell Sanzhu right away—have him stop them.”

Widow Sun bit into a bad seed and quickly spat it out.

“Peh! Peh! Peh!
Why stop them? Didn’t you hear Wuya loud and clear? She said the money was a reward from a benefactor whose life they saved. We’ve already severed ties—why would they give you a single coin of that reward money?”

“Isn’t Sanzhu still their real father? Even if ties are cut, he’s still their Father. Why can’t he ask for some?”

“Oh, give it a rest. When the whole village was chipping in to help pay for Chunsheng’s leg treatment, I said we should contribute something too. After all, he’s Sanzhu’s own son. Everyone else gave. We didn’t—don’t you think that was going a bit too far?
You two kept shouting that we shouldn’t give a thing. Maybe you didn’t care, but do you know how many clan elders scolded Sanzhu over this? Their words practically slapped him across the face!”

“Second Sister-in-law, you’re even pushing our Sanzhu to go ask for money? Our Sanzhu still has his pride, you know. If someone’s going to ask for money, why don’t you send Second Brother instead?”

Qian Daya was momentarily choked speechless. This remarried Widow Sun was truly infuriating—she never showed her, the Second Sister-in-law, the slightest respect when speaking. But there was nothing she could do about her.

This woman was her third younger brother’s precious darling. If she said something too harsh, Widow Sun would just tear up a little in front of Third Brother, squeeze out a few crocodile tears, and he’d come storming over to fight with her husband.

What’s more, Widow Sun had brought her entire dowry with her when she remarried—she even came with a house and a few mu of land. Even their in-laws turned a blind eye to her behavior.

Ah! The old Third Sister-in-law was still better—she’d do whatever she was told. And if she ever got a little defiant, Qian Daya would just tell Third Brother, and he’d beat her into submission to vent her anger.

Qian Daya rolled her eyes and turned to head home.

She had to hurry back and tell her mother-in-law—those ungrateful little ingrates weren’t just building a house now, they were planning to buy land too. Who knew how much money they still had on hand?

Widow Sun let out a cold snort. She couldn’t stand that family either. What were they all thinking?

They had made such a huge scene cutting ties—so loud and dramatic that not just Songjia Village, but even the neighboring villages had heard about it.

And now that the family had money, they wanted a share? Just the money, not the people? What kind of wishful thinking was that?

Widow Sun truly couldn’t afford to lose face. She had always loved scheming, but she also cared about her reputation. She fancied herself clever—the kind of person who wanted both to have her cake and eat it too, all while pretending to be virtuous.

If it were up to her, getting money wasn’t impossible.

You just had to melt people with affection.

Be a little kinder, say the soft words when needed, show true emotion when it counted. As long as you put on a convincing act of sincerity, as long as he believed you truly cared for him, then you’d pretty much have him in the palm of your hand.

Wasn’t that exactly how she had Song Sanzhu wrapped around her little finger? So what were a few children compared to that?

She knew perfectly well what to do—but she simply refused to say it.

She was the stepmother, after all. By fate, she and her husband’s children were never meant to walk the same path.

In the eyes of those children, she was the very reason their birth mother had been cast aside—the true culprit behind it all. Could she expect them to be filial when she was old? They were probably wishing for her to drop dead as soon as possible.

So when those children severed ties and left the family, she was more than happy about it. Who wanted to be someone’s stepmother anyway? Putting in effort only to be resented?

Besides, even if she did speak up, what good would it do?

The one exhausting himself, scheming, pretending to be kind, was their Song Sanzhu. And when he got the benefits, would any of it come to their branch of the family?

No—never. The old man’s heart was set only on Dalang and Erlang.

As for her own son—hmph! Did they really think she didn’t notice? Those two old fools had been suspicious for years, doubting that her second son, Song Youcai, was their real grandson.

More than once, she’d caught the old couple pulling aside both her sons—Youcai and Youtian, the ones from her and her former husband—and scrutinizing them with narrowed eyes.

Hmph. They were brothers born of the same mother. Of course they looked alike. What, did that prove they had the same father?

And even if someone wanted proof, it wasn’t possible. Youtian’s father had been dead for ten years. Were they suggesting she’d somehow conceived Youcai with a dead man?

Utter fools, the lot of them.

If Song Sanzhu hadn’t been good-looking and easy to manipulate, and if she hadn’t needed a father figure for her children, she wouldn’t have given the old Song family a second glance.

The four siblings saw from a distance that their Courtyard was bustling with activity.

The Lizheng’s eldest son—Song Fusheng’s father, Song Qingshan—walked over with a cheerful smile.

“Chunsheng’s back?”

“Big Uncle,” Song Chunsheng greeted him quickly, climbing down from the cart. He braced himself on his crutches, tucking them under his arms, and lifted the leg wrapped in plaster, standing upright.

Song Qingshan glanced at the white cast on his leg and asked, “What’s that white stuff on your leg?”

“It’s plaster. Wrapped like this, my leg’s protected inside. Once the bone sets in a few days, they’ll break it open.”

Song Qingshan bent down and knocked on the cast, praising, “Ho, this thing’s not bad at all—like a turtle shell. Plaster, you say? Could this be that plaster Sanya came up with?”

Song Jinfang puffed up with pride. “Mm-hmm! It was my Big Sister’s idea. Uncle, my Big Sister is super smart. Physician Li even said she’s a genius.”

“Is that so? Sanya’s got a real sharp mind.”

As everyone chatted and laughed, Song Qingshan pointed toward the Courtyard and said:

“The framework for the main hall and the eastern wing is pretty much up. Once the eastern wing is finished, we’ll be ready to raise the main beam.

Your Grandfather Lizheng said that raising the beam must be done on an auspicious day. We’ll need someone to calculate the exact time and date so the household will prosper and the descendants thrive.”

Song Jinxiu quickly said, “We’ve troubled Second Grandfather, Big Uncle, and Second Uncle so much already.”

“We’re all one family now—no need for such polite words. Besides, your Second Uncle and I are just like the other villagers, earning fifteen wen a day in wages.”

Song Jinxiu replied, “Fifteen wen isn’t enough. Big Uncle, you’re not just doing labor—you’re managing the entire project. Second Uncle too, he’s even staying here overnight to watch over everything. How can you take just a laborer’s pay?”

Song Qingshan laughed, “What now? Are you planning to issue me a manager’s bonus?”

Song Jinxiu nodded. “Mm-hmm. Isn’t that exactly what should be done?”

“Alright, you,” Song Qingshan chuckled, tapping Song Jinxiu lightly on the head before turning to Chunsheng. “Chunsheng, tell me—should your Big Uncle get a pay raise?”

Song Chunsheng quickly replied, “No raise. Once my leg heals, I’ll buy Big Uncle some wine.”

“Aha, now that’s more like it. Sanya, looks like you’re still treating your Big Uncle like an outsider!” He pointed at Song Jinxiu, shaking his head in mock disapproval.

Song Jinxiu had no choice but to say, “Then I’ll buy Big Uncle some meat.”

Song Jinfang chimed in, “I’ll buy some too.”

Little Qiusheng raised his hand eagerly, “Me too! I’ll buy wine!”

“Hahaha! Alright then, your Big Uncle will be waiting to drink wine and eat meat!”