Hearing Zhou Xiaowei's voice, Zhou Zhijun got up and walked out of the inner room.
He saw Zhou Xiaowei's face flushed red, sweat beading on his forehead, and mud caked on his shoes and trouser cuffs.
Zhou Zhijun frowned and asked, "Look at you, rushing over here all breathless. What's the emergency?"
Aunt Zhou and Second Aunt Zhou also hurriedly got up and followed him out of the inner room.
Seeing the visitor, the midwife began packing up her birthing tools, ready to head home.
"Auntie, take these!" Aunt Zhou stuffed a new towel and two packets of brown sugar into the midwife's bundle.
Then she pulled out ten yuan from her pocket and pressed it into the woman's hand, saying with a smile, "Thanks for making the trip. Let me see you out!"
With that, she turned and waved at Zhou Xiaowei. "Don't rush. Whatever it is, say it slowly!"
Just as Zhou Xiaowei was about to speak, a soft, milky baby coo drifted out from the inner room, and the words on the tip of his tongue died in his throat.
He froze for a moment, then pointed at the inner room and asked, "Uncle, is my Chuntao—" Catching himself before repeating the wrong title, he quickly corrected, "Has my Aunt given birth?"
Before Zhou Zhijun could answer, Second Aunt Zhou cut in with a gleeful voice, "Yes! She's given birth! Your aunt did well—twin boys and girls, a perfect pair!"
"Twins?!" Zhou Xiaowei's eyes went wide with shock, and he made to rush inside. "I'm going in to see!"
"Stop right there!" Zhou Zhijun's voice turned suddenly cold and hard. "You ran all this way—tell me the real news first!"
Zhou Xiaowei's feet stopped dead, and the joy on his face faded in an instant. He looked at Zhou Zhijun, his tone turning somber.
He muttered, "The commune is pulling people to support the reservoir construction at Chengbei Banqiao, and your name's on the list. They said you have to report to the commune in a few days. If you don't go, not only will there be a fine, but they'll revoke the title of Honorable Military Family!"
Grandpa's frantic, so he sent me to tell you!"
At this, Zhou Zhijun's heart sank like a stone. His body stiffened, his hands clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
His parents were old, and the family's seven or eight mu of responsibility farmland depended entirely on his labor.
But what worried him most of all were Chuntao and these two newborns.
The babies had barely been born, and Chuntao had just made it through the gates of death, her body still weak. How could he leave at a time like this?
Zhou Zhijun's brows knitted so hard that a deep crease formed between them.
Though he had been discharged from the military, the soldier's sense of duty still ran deep in his bones. The country needed people for construction, and he should have been at the front.
But he was also a husband and a father of two. Chuntao and the babies needed him now, and he couldn't just abandon them.
On one side, there was the commune's policy pressing down on him—he couldn't refuse it. On the other, there were his wife and children.
Zhou Zhijun was caught between a rock and a hard place, grinding his teeth, unable to utter a single word.
Aunt Zhou finished seeing off the midwife and returned to the courtyard, just in time to catch what Zhou Xiaowei had said. Her brow furrowed as well.
Before she even stepped inside, she blurted out, "That won't do! Your aunt just gave birth!"
Zhou Xiaowei glanced at the grim-faced Zhou Zhijun, then at the worried Aunt Zhou.
He said helplessly, "Uncle, the village party secretary said it himself—you have to report to the commune the day after tomorrow. If you don't go, they'll fine you, and they'll take away the Honorable Military Family title!"
Zhou Zhijun pulled out his cigarette pack, squatting on the threshold, and lit one up. He took a few hard drags, but the smoke was too harsh, and it made him cough.
Aunt Zhou sighed. "What a mess. What awful timing—Chuntao just gave birth and now this..."
She mulled it over in her mind. If Zhou Zhijun really left, she could ask Zhou Zhiguo's family to lend a hand, and the farm work could still be managed. But what she feared most was Chuntao's weak condition, having to care for the twins all on her own.
Second Aunt Zhou chimed in as well, "They could've picked any other time to build that reservoir, but no, they chose now. It's just adding to the chaos!"
Aunt Zhou sighed and turned to Zhou Xiaowei. "How many people from our village are going?"
"Grandma, just Uncle and Zhao Qingyun!" Zhou Xiaowei paused, then lowered his voice, his tone indignant, "I suspect Zhou Dana is behind this behind the scenes!"
Aunt Zhou's brow furrowed even deeper. She knew it in her heart—that old fox Zhou Dana just might be the one.
Zhou Zhijun had often argued with him over matters of fairness in the village. Zhou Dana never said a word to his face, but he surely held a grudge. This was deliberately making trouble.
"Whether it's him or not, the commune's notice has come down. There's no fighting it..."
Aunt Zhou stopped mid-sentence, and her eyes suddenly lit up. She looked at Zhou Zhijun and said, "Zhijun, go find Wu Mingwei! He knows people in the commune. Ask him to see if someone can be substituted for you?"
Zhou Zhijun shook his head. "The list is already public. It won't be easy. With so many people drawn from the whole commune, if I set that precedent, the commune won't approve, and the honorable title would end up with a stain on it!"
He knew very well that if the title of Honorable Military Family was stripped away, all the preferential treatment and benefits the family could enjoy in the future would be gone.
Chuntao lay in bed, half-conscious, not fully asleep.
The conversation outside drifted into her ears in fragments.
Building a reservoir wasn't a ten-day or half-month job. It could last anywhere from three to five months, up to a year or more.
She had just given birth, her body weak, and she hadn't yet returned to Wangjia Village.
If Zhou Zhijun left, she'd have no one to lean on, and she felt lost.
Going back to Wangjia Village later with two babies, she'd have to endure no telling how much gossip and side-glances. She didn't even know how to face the neighbors.
But she also understood that since the commune had issued the notice, refusing wasn't an option.
She understood Zhou Zhijun's dilemma all too well. The reason he couldn't make up his mind was nothing but his worry for her and their two children.
Chuntao squinted at the two sleeping babies beside her—their little faces rosy, their breathing soft and gentle—but her heart was a tangled mess.
She didn't know if the family had the money to pay a fine, and even if they did, they couldn't pay it.
Now that there were two more mouths to feed, everything ahead—food, clothing, daily supplies—would cost money.
Aunt Zhou and the old man were both getting on in years, with all kinds of ailments cropping up, and they needed money too.
If the Honorable Military Family title was lost, the loss would far outweigh the fine.
Chuntao's mind raced as she calculated quickly. She bit her lip, mustered her strength, and called out softly toward the outside, "Brother Zhijun..."
Zhou Zhijun heard Chuntao's voice and immediately stubbed out his cigarette. He strode into the room, his tone instantly softening. "Chuntao, you're awake? How do you feel?"
She looked at him, her gaze tender, and said quietly, "Go. I'll be fine."
He looked at her pale face, then at the two sleeping infants on the bed, his eyes filled with guilt and reluctance.
"Chuntao, you and the babies just came through death's door. You're so weak. How can I leave you with peace of mind?"
"I really am fine," Chuntao said, reaching up to gently rest her hand on the back of his. She soothed him, "I can take care of myself and keep an eye on the twins. Go with ease."
Zhou Zhijun gripped her hand tightly, his voice heavy. "Let me think it over..."
"Oh! Silly me!" Aunt Zhou suddenly burst in, flustered.
"I got so caught up talking about the reservoir that I forgot something more important! The babies have been born for over an hour now—they need to be fed."
At that, a thought suddenly popped into Zhou Zhijun’s mind.
He hadn’t had a proper white steamed bun in days, and from now on, that rare treat would likely be even further out of reach for him.
He instinctively glanced at Chuntao. Seeing her pretty face flush slightly, her lips pressed together, her gaze soft as it rested on the two babies beside her, with that shy, new-mother air about her, an inexplicable restlessness stirred inside him.
“Mom, the babies are sleeping soundly—no need to feed them just yet!” Zhou Zhijun forcefully suppressed that urge and looked at Aunt Zhou.
“That won’t do! Even if they’re asleep, you wake them up! The first feeding has to happen early, or else the milk will get clogged and won’t come down—Chuntao will suffer terribly, and the babies will have nothing to eat!”
With that, Aunt Zhou carefully picked up Jianshe and placed him into the crook of Chuntao’s arm, then gently lifted the edge of her clothes.
“You’ve got to let the baby latch on properly, not just nibble, or else you’ll be in agony, and the baby won’t get much milk either!”
Aunt Zhou murmured softly as she guided Little Jianshe’s tiny mouth toward Chuntao, cooing gently, “Little Jianshe, eat now, eat now…”
Chuntao stiffened all over, her hands gripping the corner of the blanket so tightly that her knuckles went white. Her body was rigid, and she instinctively wanted to pull away, yet she was afraid of hurting the soft little bundle in her arms.
Little Jianshe’s eyes stayed closed, his little mouth seeking out the warmth on instinct, his tiny nose nuzzling as he began to feed.
His cheeks puffed in and out as he sucked, one tiny hand unconsciously clutching at Chuntao’s clothes.
Chuntao let out a soft hiss at the sensation, but she bore it without moving.
Aunt Zhou listened to the sound of her grandson gulping down milk and her face broke into a beaming smile.
“This boy’s got a big appetite, just like his father—sucking away like a little piglet!”
Aunt Zhou’s casual comment made Chuntao’s mind flash with an image of Zhou Zhijun’s face… Her cheeks flushed even deeper, red all the way to the tips of her ears, and she kept her head down, afraid to look at anyone.
Zhou Zhijun’s gaze lingered on the partly exposed skin of Chuntao, listening to his son’s clear, rhythmic swallowing. His Adam’s apple bobbed involuntarily as he swallowed hard.
His eyes were filled with complicated emotions—reluctance, guilt, and more than a hint of unspoken longing.
He clenched his fists, his mind already made up, but seeing Chuntao so weak and the two soft, helpless babies, the words on the tip of his tongue were swallowed back down in the end.
