Chapter 34: Sending a Telegram

“Dad, you’re too much! You let your precious daughter freeze awake!” Little Zhong Ling, who had been uncovered by the blanket and woken up from the cold, saw her father sleeping with his back to her and angrily slapped his face. How could he treat his baby like this?

Zhong Youliang was exhausted from the previous night. Still half-asleep, he opened his eyes to see that it was still dark outside. He hugged little Zhong Ling and laid back down, covering her with the blanket and gently patting her to sleep.

Nestled in her dad’s arms, Little Zhong Ling felt warm and cozy, so she quickly forgave him and drifted off again.

When Zhong Youliang’s internal clock woke him up, he looked at the two girls in his arms and felt like he owned the world. After leaving a kiss on his wife’s forehead, he picked up his daughter and went for a run.

“Dad, you were too much! You didn’t even give me a blanket last night. I almost froze to death!” Little Zhong Ling still held a grudge when she brought it up again—her dad really went too far.

“Lingling, is that how your dad treats you? Come stay at Uncle’s house! Uncle promises not to steal your blanket at night,” said Cheng Qian, laughing heartily at the little one’s complaints about his friend.

“Uncle Cheng, I’ll stay home and take care of Dad. After all, I’m his daughter,” said Little Zhong Ling with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Alright then, Uncle will have a good talk with your dad. We can’t let Lingling freeze again,” Cheng Qian said, laughing as he patted his friend.

“Hey now, Lingling, how can you embarrass your dad like this? Did you forget who covered you with the blanket last night? And you said I was the best dad!” Zhong Youliang looked at Little Zhong Ling with mock innocence. He strongly suspected that she had kicked the blanket off herself—he always slept very still.

“Dad, don’t be childish. When you do well, I praise you. When you make mistakes, you have to accept criticism too.” Little Zhong Ling, in her sweet little voice, lectured her unreliable dad.

“HAHAHA!” Cheng Qian burst out laughing—this little girl was truly a gem.

Zhong Youliang also laughed at his precious daughter’s antics and promised not to let her freeze again. Only then did Little Zhong Ling happily join her brothers for a run.

“I just hope my Xiaoxiao will give me a daughter as precious as Lingling. She’s just too adorable,” Cheng Qian said, full of hope.

“Yeah, right. Did you forget people say your house is a monastery?” Like Zhong Youliang’s household, Cheng Qian had only sons. With his wife now pregnant with their third child, their comrades had started placing bets—most believed it would be another boy.

“Well your place is a monastery too, and if you can have a daughter, I definitely can too!” Cheng Qian retorted, stomping in frustration.

After training, Zhong Youliang went to the county office to send a telegram home. Only then did he hurry back to cook. He’d gone too far last night—time to properly make it up to his sweet wife.

At the Zhong Home—

“Mom, Youliang sent a telegram saying you should visit the army base for a few days. But why take the kids too?” Zhang Xiaofen was clearly displeased—taking all those children would just burden her brother and sister-in-law.

“Exactly, Mom. Leave the kids at home and just go see Youliang,” Wang Dahong agreed. With five kids between the two families, it would be exhausting for the younger couple.

“Alright, since your brother sent a telegram, it means he already discussed it with Yashu. He said Lingling misses her brothers,” Zhang Xiuying was thrilled to receive the telegram, though she kept a level head.

“Let’s all go. It’ll be nice to visit their third uncle too. Be sure to bring food with you,” said Old Zhong with a hint of envy—he wanted to visit his youngest son too, but someone had to stay and handle things at home.

“Yay! That’s great! We miss Lingling so much!” The five little “eggs” (nickname for the kids) jumped for joy when they heard the news.

“You just miss Lingling? Don’t you miss your little uncle?” Zhang Xiuying teased her grandsons.

“Yes, we do,” the older two nodded, shyly recalling their uncle. The younger three just giggled—seeing Lingling was enough; they had no memory of their uncle.