On the first day of the new year, every family in the village began their visits to relatives. The village was bustling early in the morning, with people dressed in new clothes, carrying gifts as they headed out.

Zhou Song got up early and put on the new clothes he’d bought during their trip to town—a rare bright color, making him look full of energy. Shen Qingzhu also got up unusually early, though after staying up for New Year’s until midnight, they hadn’t returned until close to the fourth watch. He couldn’t help but stifle a yawn as he got up.

Zhou Song, watching him with concern, brought over his new clothes to help him get dressed, saying, “After we visit Aunt Qian, you can come back and catch up on sleep. Having lunch with her later is the same; I’m sure she won’t mind.”

As for his own family, Zhou Song hadn’t planned on bringing Shen Qingzhu along. He’d go by himself, just to fulfill his duty to visit Granny Zhou on behalf of his father. He’d leave the gifts and go without lingering.

In this village, he didn’t have many close relatives. According to custom, he should visit Wu Lanshu tomorrow, and as for the other villagers and neighbors, they weren’t actual relatives, so he’d drop by if he had time. Only the head of the village needed a formal visit.

“It’s alright,” Shen Qingzhu said, wiping the slight dampness from his eyes and patting his face. “It’s just for a few days; a little less sleep won’t hurt.”

With that, Zhou Song didn’t say any more. Although he was worried, he respected Shen Qingzhu’s choice.

After getting themselves ready, they filled up on the dumplings Aunt Qian had sent them home with yesterday and headed out with their prepared gifts.

The snowfall from yesterday had stopped before dawn, leaving no snow on the ground, but it was slightly muddy. Zhou Song held Shen Qingzhu’s hand, carefully guiding him around the mud puddles to avoid dirtying his shoes.

Aunt Qian was already up, waiting to welcome them. When she saw their outfits, she immediately broke into a smile, praising how festive they looked and saying that it was perfect for the new year.

Zhou Song felt a bit shy under her praise, thinking that such comments were meant for children showing off new clothes, not grown adults. Shen Qingzhu, however, remained calm and even smiled, thanking her politely.

They were invited into the main room, where a fire was burning warmly, and the table was set with fruits and snacks. Aunt Qian told them that Xiaobao had just woken up and that Lin Erzhu and Liu Fang were helping him get dressed and would join them soon. The little one had been fussy until nearly dawn, keeping his parents up with him. Lin Erzhu kept complaining that Xiaobao was a “little rascal” who was getting harder to handle and would likely cause even more trouble as he grew.

After chatting for a bit, Aunt Qian pulled out a red paper packet and handed it to Shen Qingzhu.

Startled, Shen Qingzhu quickly tried to decline, “Auntie, I’m not a child anymore; I can’t accept your New Year’s money.”

“Take it,” Aunt Qian insisted, her face stern as she pressed the packet back into his hands. “This is your first year after getting married, and it’s tradition for the in-laws to give New Year’s money. Given the situation with Song’s family, I’m giving this on behalf of his mother. We villagers don’t have much, but don’t think it’s too little.”

“How could I think that…” For once, Shen Qingzhu was at a loss for words and instinctively looked to Zhou Song for support.

Zhou Song nodded, “Go ahead and accept it; it’s Aunt Qian’s goodwill.”

Aunt Qian had looked after him since childhood and was like a mother to him. Arguing with her over something like this would only upset her.

With no other choice, Shen Qingzhu accepted the red packet, saying, “Thank you, Auntie.”

Satisfied, Aunt Qian patted his hand with a smile.

After a bit more small talk, Zhou Song handed Xiaobao his own red packet before announcing he’d be making a trip to West Village. Shen Qingzhu would stay with Aunt Qian; he’d be back soon and didn’t plan to stay long.

Aunt Qian understood that no matter the past issues, he still had to make the visit, and she joked that they’d take good care of his husband so he wouldn’t need to worry.

“Go early and come back soon. I’ll wait for you here at Auntie’s,” Shen Qingzhu said, understanding that Zhou Song didn’t want him to interact too much with those people and didn’t offer to go with him. He knew Zhou Song could handle things on his own.

Zhou Song left, first returning home to pick up the prepared gifts, and then headed to West Village. Since the last time he’d visited, no one from the Zhou family had come to bother him again, clearly having taken his words to heart. Whatever conflicts they had among themselves, he neither cared nor wished to interfere.

Arriving at the familiar courtyard, he knocked on the door.

The one to answer was Hu Lan, who seemed more worn out than before, with a hint of exhaustion on her face. She gave him an awkward smile, “Nephew, you’re here…”

Zhou Song nodded as acknowledgment and stepped inside without a word. Hu Lan followed, saying, “Mother’s been eagerly waiting for you since early morning.”

Without responding, Zhou Song headed straight to the main room.

The room was dimly lit, with a small fire burning, enough to keep it from being cold but not truly warm, likely to save on coal.

Zhou Dashan was nowhere to be seen; only Granny Zhou was there. When she saw him, she immediately stood up to greet him with a slightly ingratiating smile, “Song, you’re here. It must’ve been cold on the way; come, have a seat.”

Zhou Song avoided her reaching hand and placed the gifts on the low table. “These are from Father, for you.”

Granny Zhou was momentarily speechless, her hand awkwardly retracting.

Zhou Song remained indifferent, turning to leave immediately.

“Wait, don’t go just yet. It’s rare for you to come by; why don’t you stay for a while and chat with us? Have lunch here,” Granny Zhou said, rushing after him.

“Yes, nephew, stay and have lunch with us,” Hu Lan chimed in.

Zhou Song paused but didn’t turn back, “No, I’ve already promised Aunt Qian I’d have lunch at her place.”

Granny Zhou hurriedly added, “But no matter what, aren’t relatives closer than outsiders…”

She stopped mid-sentence as Zhou Song turned around, his cold expression causing her to fall silent instinctively.

“To me, they are family; you’re the outsiders. I thought you understood that the last time.”

Granny Zhou’s face turned pale, leaving her at a loss for words.

Zhou Song turned and left.

“You shameless woman! I haven’t even divorced you, and you’re constantly clamoring for separation!”

“Zhou Xiaofu, have you no heart at all?”

As Zhou Song entered the courtyard, he heard a loud quarrel coming from Zhou Xiaofu’s room and paused.

Hu Lan, who had followed him out, turned pale and quickly hurried over.

Shortly afterward, Wang Cuixiang emerged from the room, wiping tears from her face. Inside, he could faintly hear Hu Lan trying to reason with her son.

Seeing Zhou Song in the courtyard, Wang Cuixiang froze briefly, then wiped her tears with her sleeve and forced a smile, “Cousin, you’re here.”

She’d always been frail, and now she looked even more emaciated, her cheeks sunken and visibly aged.

It wasn’t surprising—having lost her child and facing constant conflict with the Zhou family had taken a toll on both her body and spirit.

Glancing at the door behind her, Zhou Song said, “The Zhou family only respects strength, not softness. If you’re really set on leaving, don’t let them sway you. Stand your ground.”

Wang Cuixiang was stunned to hear these words from him, and her eyes reddened. In a family like this, having someone who understood her made her feel comforted.

Seeing her on the verge of tears, Zhou Song was silent for a moment before adding, “I don’t want to meddle in the Zhou family’s affairs or deal with them anymore. I can’t help you with the separation, but if you manage to leave them and encounter any difficulties, you can come find me in East Village.”

This made Wang Cuixiang’s heart ache, and she couldn’t hold back her tears. She bowed deeply to him, unable to say anything.

Zhou Song didn’t say more and left.

Some people ultimately have to live their lives on their own. External help is temporary; whether or not they can change their fate depends on themselves.

His visit didn’t take long, and by the time he returned to the Lin household, the courtyard gate was open, likely left for him.

Inside, he heard Lin Erzhu’s booming voice talking about visiting Liu Fang’s family the next day.

As he entered the room, everyone looked up.

“Oh, Song is back! Come warm up by the fire,” Aunt Qian said, beckoning him over as she poured hot water from the kettle on the stove.

Lin Erzhu quickly pulled up a stool next to Shen Qingzhu for him to sit on.

Rubbing his hands, Zhou Song, still chilled, sat down and took a sip of the hot water Aunt Qian handed him.

“Cold out there, huh? Everything’s frozen in the morning,” Aunt Qian said, noticing his red nose.

Zhou Song nodded.

No one asked him about the visit to the Zhou family or if there were any problems. In this joyous moment, no one wanted to bring up such unpleasant matters.

Seeing that he’d warmed up, Shen Qingzhu turned to him and said, “We could take the carriage tomorrow. With a small heater inside, Xiaobao won’t get cold. After all, Sister-in-law hasn’t fully recovered; it’s probably best this way.”

Before Zhou Song returned, Lin Erzhu and the others had indeed been discussing whether to bring Xiaobao along on Liu Fang’s family visit.

Liu Fang’s relationship with her family wasn’t great. Her parents favored her brother, always giving him the best while barely smiling at her. But they were still her parents, just like Zhou Song had to visit Granny Zhou, so she couldn’t sever ties that easily.

She wanted to bring Xiaobao along, since the baby was too young to be away from his mother for long. Aside from the emotional connection, he needed feeding every couple of hours. But with such cold weather, it seemed harsh to take him.

Liu Fang thought about it for a moment and said, “We won’t bring Xiaobao. Erzhu and I will go, drop off the gifts like Song, and leave without staying for a meal. With the carriage, it won’t take long—just a couple of hours.”

This was probably the best choice, though…

Aunt Qian and Lin Erzhu exchanged hesitant glances with Liu Fang.

“Don’t worry. We’re not that close, and there’s no need to linger,” Liu Fang said, her outlook softened, especially since Xiaobao’s birth.

Since her parents hadn’t come to see her or Xiaobao after his birth, she felt less obliged to care too much.

Seeing she truly didn’t mind, Aunt Qian and the others felt relieved.

With that settled, they quickly moved on to other topics.

After lunch at Aunt Qian’s, Zhou Song and Shen Qingzhu returned home, where Zhou Song told him about Wang Cuixiang’s situation.

Shen Qingzhu didn’t object, leaving it to him to handle. They weren’t saints, but neither were they heartless. If they could help without causing trouble for themselves, they’d consider it a good deed.

With Shen Qingzhu’s understanding, Zhou Song felt at ease. He helped prepare the bed for Shen Qingzhu to catch up on his sleep.