Everyone had left, and the house fell quiet again.
Sizhe stared at his bowl of rice, forcing the food down his throat as if swallowing grains of sand.
After tidying up, Nan Sheng noticed something was wrong—his bowl was only half-empty, and he’d barely touched the dishes.
"Son, if you can’t eat, don’t force yourself. You’re still recovering—why torture yourself?"
Sizhe looked up, his face full of grievance. "Mom, my throat hurts." But wasting food was shameful; he couldn’t let it go to waste!
Nan Sheng simply took the bowl away, then returned to massage the pressure point on his hand. When Sizhe swallowed again, the pain had lessened.
"Mom, you’re amazing!" Sizhe mimicked her, pressing the spot himself, and instantly felt his throat ease.
Siqi also stretched her tiny hand out for Nan Sheng to squeeze. Even if it made her frown, she demanded the same treatment as her brother—this child never missed a chance to compete for attention.
After tending to the two little ones and giving them their medicine, Nan Sheng finally lay down with Siqi curled beside her, drifting off to sleep.
Siqi didn’t make a sound. She carefully tucked the blanket around Nan Sheng before nestling close, resting her small hand on Nan Sheng’s soft belly. To her, this was the safest feeling in the world.
Mom was Mom—she wasn’t any "stepmother"!
Yesterday, when Shen Wen and Shen Wu had muttered about "stepmothers," Siqi had felt both hurt and angry, but she’d kept it to herself.
Liao Xian stayed in Sanwei Town for a full half-month before leaving, having smoothed out much of Nan Sheng’s workload. When he departed, laden with gifts, he joked, "Sanwei Town is too nurturing—I don’t even want to leave!"
Nan Sheng knew it was just banter and replied, "You’re always welcome back to guide us, sir!"
Back in the office, Liu Song reported in detail about the past two weeks, noting that while Liao Xian seemed easygoing, he’d been quietly observing Nan Sheng’s work and conduct, as if assessing her worth.
"He tried fishing for information once, but when I caught on, he dropped it. The man’s extremely cautious."
"Did you think he earned Director Jin’s trust by accident? Sometimes, turning a blind eye benefits everyone."
Director Jin barely knew Nan Sheng, so sending a trusted aide to keep tabs wasn’t unreasonable. Nan Sheng figured that once Liao Xian returned, her official promotion would soon follow.
All her hard work—and the hospitality—hadn’t been in vain!
But rising too fast came with its own worries. The military district was strict, and Nan Sheng felt secure living there. Moving to the county town might unsettle the children…
Over in Huaishan Town, Yu Feng had swiftly arranged for his daughter’s transfer back after her engagement. Now, she and Mingli saw each other almost daily, often visiting Nan Sheng’s family or her uncle’s house on days off.
After the downfall of the revolutionary committee, people’s faces brightened. Even the "sent-down" individuals were treated better, granted basic dignity instead of beatings over trivial matters.
When the committee was first purged, Yu Feng’s relatives had clamored for him to break off the engagement.
"Nan Sheng’s the only accomplished one in that family, and now she’s fallen. This match is beneath us."
They say mothers-in-law grow fonder of their sons-in-law over time, but this time, Madam Yu didn’t even let Yu Feng speak—she tore into them herself.
"Stop looking down on people! Even without his sister’s help, Mingli will go far. Our Yu family doesn’t break promises. Mind your own business and stop showing up where you’re not wanted."
Yu Feng stayed silent, silently applauding his wife. His son and daughter-in-law, however, were far from pleased.
"Dad, when are you getting me a government job?"
Back when Yu Feng was town mayor, he’d secured his son Yu Ping a factory job in the county and bought them a house. They’d lived comfortably.
But after his promotion to county chief, their ambitions ballooned. Dissatisfied with their current lives, they both wanted government positions.
Yu Feng had repeatedly warned them: "With your wits, you’d drown in government work. Even a sinecure wouldn’t pay much. Stick to the factory—you’re already supervisors."
But Yu Ping wouldn’t listen. He’d even quit his job in secret!
Now, his stance was clear: "If you won’t get me into the government, I’ll stay unemployed." The father-son standoff had reached a stalemate, neither willing to yield.
Madam Yu privately urged her husband, "Just let him try. If he fails, he’ll give up."
Yu Feng scowled. "Look at his attitude! Even if he gets in, will he work hard? He’ll just slack off under my name.
I didn’t climb this far just to hand my enemies ammunition by nepotism."
Yu Feng’s real plan was to groom Mingli. By the time Mingli rose high enough, Yu Feng would retire. His own children? He’d written them off—neither had the makings of a politician.
Yu Luotong had set a rule for herself: visit home once a month. After swapping shifts with another teacher, she pedaled her bicycle back, gifts from Mingli in tow for her parents.
At home, she found Yu Ping lounging in a courtyard chair, basking in the sun. "Bro, you’re not working today?"
Yu Ping didn’t even glance up. These days, everything irritated him, especially the thought of his parents lavishing dowry gifts on his sister.
When no reply came, Yu Luotong paused mid-step. Then Madam Yu hurried out to greet her, and she forced a smile.
"Mom, I’m home!"
"Silly girl, why bring so much? It’s your own house!"
Madam Yu inspected the haul—liquor, meat, pastries, canned goods—and immediately guessed the source.
"Mingli sent these, didn’t he? Tell him not to bother next time. You two should save up—life’s easier with money."
Yu Luotong nodded cheerfully. Inside, she whispered, "Is Brother in a bad mood? He ignored me."
Madam Yu filled her in.
"Your brother and his wife have gotten it into their heads that they’re too good for factory work.
Your father’s already kicked them out once over this. If they argue again, fists might fly. Just pretend you don’t know—no use mediating."
