Chapter 62: Phrogging 3

Zhang Guodong’s shoulders sagged as he exhaled heavily, his resignation evident in the sound. “Let your aunt and the Song family split the compensation. As adults, everyone needs to face the consequences of their actions.”

Mrs. Song’s sobs crescendoed into a wail, her hands wringing in despair. “Over 100,000 yuan! How will we live? You’re taking even our burial funds! You might as well kill us now.”

Zhang Heping’s fists clenched, his knuckles turning white as rage coursed through his veins. “You think your measly 100,000 can compare to the value of my house’s belongings? If you’re so capable, go buy the replacements yourself!”

Seeing the Song family’s continued lack of remorse, Zhang Guodong’s eyes narrowed as his temper snapped. “Fine, if you won’t take responsibility, then go sit in a cell.”

He turned on his heel and stormed out, Lin Lihua’s pleas falling on deaf ears.

“Heping, please…” Lin Lihua’s voice wavered as she attempted to reason, but he remained unmoved, his gaze fixed on the wreckage of his once-immaculate home.

The police, sensing further negotiation was futile, intervened. “We’ll have to take the Song family into custody.”

As the officers led them away, Song Qingqing’s eyes sought Zhang Heping’s, tears streaming down her face. “Do you really have to be so cruel?”

Zhang Heping’s words were razor-sharp, each syllable dripping with ice. “Your family is in this mess because of you. If you hadn’t brought them here, none of this would have happened. Song Qingqing, don’t play innocent. You knew about their actions, yet you did nothing. Aren’t you the one who made this irreversible?”

After the Songs were gone, Lin Lihua collapsed onto the sofa, drained. “Heping, can’t you let them off the hook?”

Zhang Heping’s jaw set, his resolve unwavering. “Only when my home is restored to its original state will I forgive them.”

Lin Lihua sighed in resignation. “Alright, give me the list. I’ll replace everything myself.”

Zhang Heping silently moved through the house, his footsteps echoing in the eerie quiet. In each room, he assessed the damage, gathering the ruined items in a growing pile in the living room. With meticulous care, he checked each item against its receipt before handing the damning list to Lin Lihua.

Lin Lihua’s eyes widened as she scanned the extensive list, the cost weighing heavily on her. “But Heping, these things are still new… can’t you–”

Zhang Heping’s hand sliced through the air, cutting off her words. “No. This is a new house. Why should my belongings be ruined? If you like their things so much, take them, sell them, or donate them.”

His words left her unable to argue. Swallowing her objections, Lin Lihua conceded, “Okay, I’ll buy new ones to replace everything.”

As the door clicked shut behind her, Zhang Heping stood alone in the wreckage of his home, the day’s unexpected tensions with his uncle and aunt swirling in his mind. The insult still stung, his anger a slow-burning ember in his chest.

He knew his uncle’s family could easily afford the compensation, but a flicker of guilt danced at the edges of his conscience. Zhang Heping couldn’t shake the feeling he’d damaged their relationship, perhaps irreparably.

But, he argued silently, the Songs should have taken responsibility from the start. Lin Lihua’s choice to shield them absolved him of any blame for the tension that now stretched between them.

In a dark corner of his mind, he acknowledged that a part of him wanted to punish his Aunt for constantly pushing Song Qingqing on him and ignoring his feelings. Her actions had only added to his resentment.

After today, things might never be the same with his aunt and uncle. Zhang Heping accepted this new reality, recognizing that their family bonds had always been tenuous at best.

Pushing aside the tumult of his emotions, Zhang Heping resolved to offer support if his uncle encountered hardship in the future. It was the least he could do.

Drawing a deep, steadying breath, Zhang Heping left for the hospital.

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In the warm glow of unit 1602, newlyweds Shen Yanming and Bi Qiao’an basked in the afterglow of their intimate night. Steam curled from the bathroom door as they emerged, their skin flushed from the shared heat of the bath. They settled at the table, the aroma of seafood congee from Shen Yanming’s space filling the air.

Later, as they stepped out into the night, Shen Yanming’s arm wrapped gently around his still-tender bride, supporting her while she carried two small stools as they strolled toward Qingning Mountain. 

Both of them hoped the energy rain would soothe Bi Qiao’an’s lingering soreness from their passionate wedding night. Their fingers intertwined, pulses beating in sync as they ambled along. The warmth of their newfound union formed a cocoon against the world.