Chapter 54: Insomnia

After leaving the Xing family, Qi Tao didn’t go home right away. Instead, he stepped out of the courtyard and took a walk outside.

By the time he returned, it was already dark. The courtyard was nearly empty; it was around the time when people were washing up and getting ready for bed, so everyone was busy inside.

He walked up to his door but stopped and stood outside.

Inside the bathroom, his wife was bathing their daughter, and he could hear their voices now and then. His mother was sitting in the living room, squinting as she mended his torn military trousers.

The fine needle passed through the fabric. She pinched the tip and pulled the thread through. As she raised her head and saw him, she asked curiously, “Why are you just standing there?”

“Nothing,” Qi Tao shook his head and walked in. “Have you taken your bath?”

“Did it right after dinner,” said Old Mrs. Qi while mending the trousers. “Did you go out just now?” By “go out,” she meant him leaving the Xing household and stepping outside the courtyard.

Qi Tao replied with a hum, “Just remembered something I needed to say to someone.”

“What was it?”

“Something about the unit.” After speaking, he added as if just remembering, “Oh right, I have night duty tomorrow. I won’t be coming back.”

“Didn’t you just have night duty yesterday?” Since arriving on the island, Old Mrs. Qi had picked up quite a bit about army life and knew her son took night duty every three or four days.

Qi Tao said calmly, “Our deputy battalion commander has something to take care of tomorrow and asked me to cover for him.”

“In that case, make sure you tell your wife later,” she said. Her tone when speaking about Yang Yi was as indifferent as ever, as if she had completely forgotten about the apology incident a few days ago.

Before today, seeing his mother so sensible had been a comfort to Qi Tao.

He wasn’t especially shrewd—many of the things Xing Dong had said were news to him. But he wasn’t completely clueless either. The flames in the backyard were practically licking the eaves; it would be impossible not to notice anything.

In fact, he had already sensed that things were no longer harmonious between his mother and wife when he returned home to bring Yang Yi and the children to live with the army.

Even biological mothers and daughters can have conflicts, not to mention in-laws, who aren’t even blood-related. From a man’s perspective, as long as it wasn’t a total war, it wasn’t a big deal.

Besides, he was taking his wife and children to live with him. Once his mother and wife weren’t under the same roof, the distance and time apart would gradually dissolve any grudges.

So at the time, he didn’t bother to investigate what had caused the conflict between them—he didn’t think it was necessary.

He had been truly happy that his mother and younger brother came to visit this time. The last time he reunited with family was when he brought Yang Yi to join him in the army. After years apart, he missed them deeply.

Blinded by his excitement, he hadn’t thought about the tension between his mother and wife at first. Even when he later remembered it, the sight of them getting along made him believe things had improved.

Last week, when he noticed Yang Yi seemed off, he had his suspicions. But when he asked, she wouldn’t say anything. His mother and brother both claimed everything was fine at home. Plus, he was busy with work then, so he didn’t dwell on it.

Then came the incident where Lin Wei and his mother had an argument.

If it were just the quarrel between the two of them, even hearing his mother mutter those words might not have meant much to him. But after what Lin Wei had said, those words suddenly sounded harsh. Remembering how his wife cried secretly at night, he asked his mother to apologize.

At first, she was reluctant. She felt that, as a mother-in-law, it was humiliating to bow her head over one wrong word.

He had to patiently reason with her bit by bit. His younger brother also helped persuade her, and eventually, she admitted she was wrong.

But did she really understand her mistake?

Qi Tao suddenly asked, “Has Xiao Ze done something to make you angry lately?”

“Your brother’s very obedient. Why would he make me angry?” Old Mrs. Qi immediately defended her younger son and took the opportunity to ask, “Did you help with his job yet?”

Qi Tao was born when Old Mrs. Qi and her husband were already middle-aged. While not quite a “miracle baby,” they did dote on their youngest.

When Old Man Qi died, Qi Tao was already in the army. Though his stipend wasn’t much, he was dutiful and sent most of it home by scrimping and saving.

So although Qi Ze lost his father at a young age, he was spoiled by his mother and cared for by his sister-in-law. He never really suffered, and thus became quite averse to hardship.

During his third year of middle school, school was suspended. He started hanging out with others at school, putting up big-character posters and causing trouble. When Qi Tao found out, he realized it couldn’t go on and thought of bringing him into the army. Qi Ze had started school late and was already of age to enlist.

But Qi Ze thought being a soldier was too hard and refused. Old Mrs. Qi also couldn’t bear to part with her youngest, so she rejected the idea. Still, he calmed down and stopped associating with those troublemakers.

In 1968, during the send-down movement, Qi Ze returned to their village. But since he didn’t have to go to a faraway region, things were easier for him. Still, he wasn’t given any special treatment. He had to work in the fields like everyone else.

Less than half a month into it, he couldn’t take it. Old Mrs. Qi felt sorry for him and begged the brigade leader to give him lighter tasks. Out of respect for Qi Tao, the leader agreed and assigned him to weeding and harvesting rice with the older kids. But even that became too much for him after two or three months.

Later, during a visit to the commune, he ran into an old classmate who was wearing a new factory uniform. After learning the classmate had gotten a job at a state-owned factory, Qi Ze became interested.

When Old Mrs. Qi heard he wanted to become a factory worker, she was thrilled and immediately told Yang Yi. Back then, she hadn’t yet turned against her daughter-in-law, and Yang Yi genuinely wanted good things for her brother-in-law. She called Qi Tao and told him about it.

Qi Tao then reached out to an old friend and secured Qi Ze a spot as an apprentice at a state-run flour mill. The factory wasn’t big, but the work was relatively easy. Qi Ze stayed on, and later started dating a female coworker. As soon as they were of legal age, they got married.

About half a year after the wedding, Yang Yi joined the army to be with her husband. Qi Ze, perhaps because he now had a family, matured and became more dependable. He was even promoted to team leader last year.

Everything had been going well—until he came here with Old Mrs. Qi.

At first, she made subtle complaints about the flour mill, hinting that she wanted Qi Tao to find a better job for his younger brother.

But Qi Tao didn’t agree. Getting someone a job wasn’t just a matter of talking—it required favors. Besides, Qi Ze was already a team leader; switching to a new workplace would mean starting over. What was the point?

Seeing that she wasn’t getting anywhere, Old Mrs. Qi finally admitted the truth: Qi Ze hadn’t just taken leave—he’d already quit the job. But Qi Tao wasn’t easily fooled and insisted on knowing why. With no choice, they told him Qi Ze had offended someone and was set up, which cost him his job.

But they refused to say who he offended or how he was set up, so the whole matter stalled.

Now Qi Tao didn’t want to talk about his brother’s job. He only asked, “Then how come the neighbors said they always hear you scolding Xiao Ze in the mornings?”

“When did I ever…” Old Mrs. Qi started, then quickly changed her tune. “I just speak a little loudly, that’s all. It’s not as dramatic as they make it sound.”

Qi Tao said meaningfully, “You’re not usually that loud. Xiao Ze must’ve done something to upset you. Just tell me, and I’ll discipline him.”

Old Mrs. Qi was going to make something up, but after hearing that, she didn’t dare. Her youngest couldn’t handle being lectured by his older brother. She stiffened and said, “It’s really nothing. I’m just worried about his job. He’s a grown man now, with a wife and kid to support—how can he go without work? Taozi, you’re his big brother. You can’t just ignore him.”

“Mom, it’s not that I don’t want to help him, but you’re all being so vague. I don’t know how he was set up, or why he was forced to resign. If I don’t understand any of that, how am I supposed to arrange a job for him?”

“We’re not asking you to get him back into his original unit. What does it matter what mistake he made if it’s just a new job?” Old Mrs. Qi didn’t understand and tried to appeal emotionally. “Taozi, he’s your own younger brother. If you won’t help him, no one else will.”

“It’s because he’s my brother that I need to know what really happened,” Qi Tao said, waving his hand. “Until you’ve all decided to tell me the full story, don’t bring up the job again.”

Just as Old Mrs. Qi was about to speak again, Qi Tao’s daughter, Zhenzhen, came out of the bathroom.

Zhenzhen had just turned six in September, still very young. She didn’t notice the tense atmosphere. She skipped over happily to Qi Tao and said proudly, “Daddy, I’ve learned to write your name!”

Qi Tao, who had been frowning just a moment ago, smiled and asked, “Really?”

“Yep! I’ll show you!” Zhenzhen looked around, ran into the master bedroom to get her little backpack, pulled out a pencil and a notebook, then squatted beside the coffee table and wrote two large characters: “爸爸” (Daddy).

Qi Tao looked at the characters with high expectations, then stared in confusion before breaking into a laugh.

Seeing her dad laugh, Zhenzhen thought he was happy and confidently pointed to the two characters. “Daddy, is it right?”

Qi Tao replied helplessly, “The characters are correct, but that’s not my actual name.”

Zhenzhen widened her eyes, looked at Qi Tao, then looked at the notebook, confused. “But I call you Daddy!”

Yang Yi, who had just finished in the bathroom, heard her daughter and asked, “What’s going on?”

“Today the teacher taught us how to write ‘Daddy’ and ‘Mommy.’ I learned it and wrote it for Daddy, but he said it’s not his name,” Zhenzhen said, then asked in confusion, “Mommy, is ‘Mommy’ your name?”

Yang Yi explained, “Daddy and Mommy are titles, not names—just like how your little brother calls you ‘Big Sister,’ but your name is Zhenzhen.”

Zhenzhen had an epiphany and turned to ask, “Then what are Daddy and Mommy’s names?”

Qi Tao looked at his wife, picked up the pen, and wrote on the notebook as he said, “Mommy’s name is Yang Yi, and Daddy’s name is Qi Tao.”

Looking at the happy family of three, Old Mrs. Qi couldn’t help thinking of her little grandson back in the hometown. They had originally planned to go back once things were settled, but now, because her eldest son was being so stubborn, their return kept getting delayed.

With that thought, Old Mrs. Qi found her daughter-in-law’s smiling face particularly irritating.

Her eldest son had always been sentimental. The only reason he was dragging things out must be because his wife was egging him on.

She remembered how a few days ago, Qi Tao had asked her to apologize to Yang Yi—saying she’d been filial and helped raise her brother-in-law after marrying into the family—and she couldn’t help but sneer internally.

What daughter-in-law doesn’t have to be filial and help with the in-laws’ younger children after marriage? Why did she have to act so delicate, barely did any work, and yet acted like she was some kind of benefactor to the Qi family?

She’d only said a few words to her, and she had the nerve to act all aggrieved. Then she, as the mother-in-law, was made to apologize—and the woman even had the audacity to accept it calmly.

The more she thought about it, the more furious Old Mrs. Qi became. She didn’t fall asleep until the sky began to brighten.

…

There were many people who couldn’t sleep that night, and Gao Xiulian was one of them.

The official job title of “vegetable washer” was actually “general kitchen assistant.” But after the state-run restaurant opened, the first person who did the job jokingly called herself that, and over time, everyone just went with it, forgetting the original title.

It didn’t matter that the title was forgotten—there was still no shortage of work. Gao Xiulian’s current duties included washing vegetables, washing dishes, cleaning the kitchen, and more.

Of course, the director of a state-run restaurant wasn’t some capitalist exploiting her to death, so there was another person assigned to help in the kitchen.

But the job was split into early and late shifts. The early shift started at 4 a.m. like the rest of the kitchen staff and went until 2 p.m. The late shift started at 10 a.m. and lasted until 8 p.m. So the two had little overlap, and the work was as heavy—if not heavier—than working at the service window.

Gao Xiulian had been on the early shift recently, getting up at 3 a.m., starting work at 4, and not finishing until 2 in the afternoon. By the time she got off, her legs were shaking, and she was ready to collapse. After coming home, she only wanted to sleep—but if she slept too much, she couldn’t sleep at night and wouldn’t be able to wake up the next morning, so she had to tough it out.

She was truly exhausted and had no energy to go out and chat with people, which made her fall behind on the neighborhood gossip.

When she finally rotated to the late shift and didn’t have to work until 10 a.m. the next day, Gao Xiulian went home after work and took a glorious nap. She slept until she woke up from hunger around 5 p.m., got up to wash, and went to eat with her children who had just returned from school.

While eating, Gao Xiulian thought about how her day-night schedule had been flipped recently. She hadn’t had time to talk to her kids, and they’d been eating every meal at the restaurant. She was too tired to listen to their chatter when she got home.

But she was in a good mood today, so she decided to be a proper mom and asked about their studies.

And that’s when the anger hit.

It turned out that during her time buried in work, her second daughter, Zhao Mei, had gone through three phases: her main subject teacher got injured—there was no one to teach, so they had to self-study—then a substitute was assigned and classes resumed.

That wasn’t the worst part. Though Gao Xiulian had come to value education more after joining the army and realizing her own lack of qualifications limited her job opportunities, she still didn’t think missing a few days of class was a big deal.

What infuriated her was that the substitute teacher assigned by the school was actually Lin Wei!

Although Lin Wei was only a temporary teacher and wouldn’t be working for more than a few months, Gao Xiulian couldn’t help but feel bitter. She’d been killing herself every day trying to impress, still unsure when she’d be transferred out of the kitchen to a better job.

Yet Lin Wei, because of her higher education level, had quickly landed a substitute teacher position at the military district elementary school—even after Gao Xiulian had ruined her chances at a cushy hospital pharmacy job.

She completely lost it.

That night, every time she closed her eyes, she couldn’t help imagining Lin Wei standing at the front of a classroom. The rage burned hotter and hotter.

So the next morning, Gao Xiulian went to work with huge dark circles under her eyes.

Another person with dark circles that morning was Lin Wei, but hers weren’t from insomnia—they were from Zong Shao exhausting her.

Because of that letter, Zong Shao had been in a gloomy mood all night. So when they were being intimate, Lin Wei gave him a little leeway. But one indulgence turned into a whole night of regret—he flipped her over again and again, and it wasn’t until deep into the night that she finally got to sleep.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, before 5 a.m., she was woken up by Zong Shao kissing her. Thank goodness he had to leave for camp that day—if he’d had the day off, she honestly felt like she might fall apart.

But even now she didn’t feel much better. She lay groggily at the edge of the bed, torn between sleep and wakefulness—her body awake, but her head still spinning.

Meanwhile, Zong Shao, standing by the wardrobe, looked fresh and full of energy. Lin Wei ground her teeth just looking at him.

Zong Shao put on his shirt, turned, saw the expression on her face, and couldn’t help laughing. He buttoned his shirt as he walked over and leaned down to kiss her.

But before he could, Lin Wei blocked his face with her hand and said, “I’ve figured out your punishment if you smoke today.”

“Hm?”

Lin Wei said through gritted teeth, “Abstinence.”

Zong Shao made an “oh?” sound, then asked, “Then can the reward be upgraded too?”

Lin Wei immediately said, “No way!”

Zong Shao looked disappointed. “Alright then.”

It wasn’t until Lin Wei woke up from her nap and remembered the conversation that she suddenly realized—she hadn’t even agreed to Zong Shao’s so-called reward in the first place. So what upgrade was he talking about?

Sneaky!