Yunnan’s southern border was in a constant state of unrest, leaving Lu Zhenping with little to no time for rest. One day, as he was finishing up on the training field, he saw a soldier running toward him, letter in hand.

“Commander Lu, your letter.”

Taking the letter, Lu raised his brows slightly—this was the third letter from home this month. That was unusual; typically, his family only wrote when something was happening. His wife, for instance, usually sent maybe one letter every six months or so.

As he read through the letter, he couldn’t help but smirk. Since when had his wife gotten the smarts to fight back? He was genuinely pleased. The letter was mostly his mother complaining about Shen Meng’s supposed disrespect, lack of gentleness, and accusations that she was withholding money and food stamps meant for them. There was also a request that next time, any money and supplies he sent be addressed directly to her instead.

At the end of the letter, there was another request from Lu Jiaxuan for a favor to help him secure a clerk’s position on the local Revolutionary Committee.

Finishing the letter, Lu Zhenping put it back in its envelope and set it on his desk, along with other recent letters. After some thought, he sat down and wrote a letter to Lu Zhanghong.

He was intrigued by Shen Meng’s newfound determination to stand up for herself, but he also couldn’t help worrying about the children. Before he’d left, he had told her to take care of them, and he’d even asked her parents to occasionally check in on her. He had ensured they were supported—Lu Zhanghong in the village, Shen’s parents in the nearby town, and even contacts in the county office. He’d covered every base, or so he thought, but ever since becoming a father, he realized that no amount of planning could fully ease his mind, especially when it came to Mingyang and the other children. And then, of course, there was Shen Meng.

A strange feeling stirred within him as he thought of her. He searched his desk drawer, eventually finding a slightly damp cigarette, which he promptly lit. The smoke hit him hard, making him cough for several moments.

Hearing him cough, Ma Xiang peeked in with a raised eyebrow. “Where’d you dig that out of? That thing’s moldy—you’re still smoking it?” With a look of mild disgust, Ma Xiang tossed a fresh pack at him, which Lu caught and grinned at.

“You know I don’t crave a smoke that badly, but since you offered, I’ll gladly take one.” He pulled out a cigarette and lit it using the damp one he’d been smoking.

“What’s got you so stressed? Worried about the new recruits?”

Lu Zhenping shook his head. Recruits were the responsibility of the sergeants and the captains; if he had to worry about them, what was everyone else doing?

“Nothing much.”

“Sir!”

“Send this letter out,” he said, handing over his newly written letter.

“Yes, sir.”

Ma Xiang noticed the address on the letter and wondered if something was wrong at home. This was the third letter Lu had received this month, an unusual frequency. But he held his tongue; Lu Zhenping was notoriously private about family matters. The one time he’d come to his comrades for help, it was about adopting Mingyang and the other children. Ma Xiang made a mental note to set some money aside—just in case Lu needed it.

Lu Zhenping exhaled deeply, the smoke giving his sharp features an even grimmer look. It was time to split from the Lu family.

---

Shen Meng had no idea of the arrangements Lu Zhenping had set in place. If she knew just how many people he had enlisted to watch over her and the children, she would likely be wagging a disapproving finger in his face, calling him naïve. She would have scoffed at how he thought he could protect her from the powerful forces surrounding her. After all, she knew that meddling with the lives of main characters was a surefire way to speed up her own exit from the story.

Just two days ago, she’d gone to Zhang Hongfa to discuss enrolling the children in school. Tuition was 1.30 yuan a semester, and she had already enrolled all three children. But when the Lu family heard about it, all hell broke loose. Lu Jiahe, still angry over the family food allocations/distribution, said “If you have money to send them to school, then you have to pay for the food you eat here. If you’re going to keep doing this, we might as well officially split the family. At least that way, we’ll stop having to feed you for free!”

Lu Jiahe was especially agitated because, even with his brother’s allowance, they hadn’t been getting as much lately. To make matters worse, his mother often asked them to send food to the eldest brother’s household, which only fueled Lu Jiahe’s resentment.

He had a quarrel with Liu Sanjin over this matter. During the conversation, Liu Sanjin mentioned that Lu Jiaxuan was going to build a house. That revelation stirred up even more chaos.

Lu Jiahe, who was already seething, exploded. “If they’re building a house, then I should be able to build one too! Why should they get everything while we’re left with nothing?”

The Lu household devolved into daily arguments, their once-united front splintering. Meanwhile, Shen Meng focused on her own family. Despite the chaos in the Lu household, her relationship with the children continued to improve. Mingfang and Mingkai clung to her, following her every move. Even Mingyang, who tried to maintain a stoic front, couldn’t hide his jealousy at how much attention his younger siblings were getting.

“Mom, what’s for dinner tonight?” Mingyang asked, peeking into the kitchen.

“Did you finish practicing your writing with your third aunt today?” Shen Meng countered, placing a hand on her hip.

Mingliang eagerly ran to grab his notebook, holding it out for her to see. “Mom, look at this! I think I write better than my brother! Third Aunt said I’m really talented and could become a top scholar someday.”

Shen Meng glanced at the messy handwriting, noting a missing horizontal line in the character for “bright.” She stifled a laugh.

“Not bad,” she said with a smile. “Tonight, we’re having dumplings. There’s even meat in the filling, so eat as much as you want. I’ve set aside a small bowl of meat for you and your brother to deliver to Daqing, Erqing, and Gao later. Remember how they shared food with us when we needed it? We should never forget their kindness.”

Mingyang, who was outside watching his younger siblings, felt a pang of emotion. He vividly remembered the times when their grandmother refused to feed them, and how neighbors like Daqing’s family had helped them get by.

However, as he watched his mother dote on Mingliang, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy.

“Mom, are we spending too much lately?” Mingyang asked hesitantly. “We’ve been eating so well—meat soup, ribs, dumplings, buns… It feels like we’re living too extravagantly. Are we going to run out of money soon? Is something wrong?”

Shen Meng stared at him, her expression a mix of amusement and disbelief.

Mingyang whispered nervously, “I heard people say that before someone dies, they get to eat well one last time so they won’t be reborn as a hungry ghost…”

Shen Meng blinked, utterly speechless.

What a sharp observation—but perhaps too sharp for her liking.