Zhong Jianguo: “I blame myself for being too greedy.”
“You sure have some self-awareness.” Song Zhaodi glared at him. “Let me make this clear: if you dare to be reckless in bed, we’re getting a divorce.”
Zhong Jianguo’s face changed. “I was just talking. Why are you taking it so seriously?”
“I’m taking it seriously because I don’t want you thinking I’ve compromised.” Song Zhaodi spoke frankly.
Zhong Jianguo coughed to cover his embarrassment. “Teacher Xiao Song, can I ask you a question? Why do you hate girls so much?”
“I don’t hate children,” Song Zhaodi replied. “I already told you the first time we met, I just hate giving birth.”
Zhong Jianguo recalled that conversation. “They say daughters are their mothers’ little cotton-padded jackets. Don’t you want a daughter?”
“A daughter like Liu Ping?” Song Zhaodi asked.
Zhong Jianguo hesitated. “No! I trust you and I believe I wouldn’t spoil our child like that.”
“What if our daughter likes Zili or Gengsheng?” Song Zhaodi pressed.
Zhong Jianguo’s breath hitched. “…That’s impossible, right?”
“Even you aren’t sure?” Song Zhaodi said. “If Liu Ping could fall for you, wouldn’t it be normal for your daughter to like your adopted son? So, Comrade Zhong Jianguo, just forget about it.”
Zhong Jianguo felt like crying. “What kind of fate is this?”
“Being ungrateful invites divine punishment,” Song Zhaodi said as she spread out the freshly cut noodles. “Start the fire, I’m cooking noodles.”
Zhong Jianguo handed her some garlic cloves. “Is this enough?”
“It’s enough.” Song Zhaodi then started preparing a cold cucumber salad.
She was a woman of action. The next day, she went next door to find Duan dasao and asked when she was going to visit Liu Ping.
Hearing that Song Zhaodi planned to scavenge books from the junkyard again, Duan dasao said they could go the next day.
On May 30th, a Sunday, the two took a fisherman’s boat to Yongcheng. Song Zhaodi carried a sack to the school, while Duan dasao carried a bag of vegetables to Liu Ping’s home.
At noon, they met at the dock.
Song Zhaodi looked pleased, while Duan dasao seemed listless.
They exchanged a glance but said nothing. Back on the island, they each went home, cooked, ate and then Duan dasao came over.
Song Zhaodi was sorting through the thirteen books she had found. Duan dasao was sewing clothes for a child.
“What’s going on with Liu Ping?” Song Zhaodi asked as she wiped dust off a book.
Duan dasao sighed. “Xiao Jin didn’t go to work today. When I got to Liu Ping’s house, they were still in bed. Can you believe that’s how they live?”
“That’s it?” Song Zhaodi was unimpressed. “I thought the Jin family was bullying Liu Ping and you were upset because you saw your daughter suffering.”
Duan dasao shook her head. “She’s about to give birth, Xiao Jin wouldn’t dare bully her. I’m upset because when I scolded Liu Ping a little, she told me that if anything happened, she would call me. Since she didn’t call, that meant everything was fine and I shouldn’t visit. Is that something a daughter should say?”
“Your daughter is really worthless,” Song Zhaodi commented.
Duan dasao choked. “Xiao Song, you have such a sharp tongue.”
“I’m just cooperating with you,” Song Zhaodi said. “You brought it up because you wanted me to scold Liu Ping for you. Now that I have, you feel bad.”
Duan dasao opened her mouth, hesitated, then admitted, “I do feel bad. I only scolded her because I want what’s best for her.”
“I know,” Song Zhaodi said. “But everyone has their own way of living. It’s her life, she can live it however she wants. As a mother, you shouldn’t interfere too much. Besides, they don’t have farmland. What would she get up for? Staying in bed saves a meal.”
Duan dasao frowned. “But it was already past nine. The neighbours had all eaten breakfast and she was still asleep. That’s just unacceptable.”
“Living isn’t about putting on a show for others,” Song Zhaodi called upstairs. “Zili!”
Zili ran down. “What is it, Mom?”
“Take these upstairs,” she said, pointing to the books. “Look up any words you don’t know in the dictionary.”
Zili beamed. “Thanks, Mom!”
“Silly kid, what are you thanking me for?” Song Zhaodi chuckled. “Don’t tell anyone and remind your younger brothers too.”
“We know,” Zili said, hugging the books as he ran upstairs, calling out, “Dawa, come quick! Mom found us more storybooks!”
Duan dasao watched Zili, then looked at Song Zhaodi, feeling that she was much better at raising kids. “Am I really being too controlling?”
“Do you want the truth?” Song Zhaodi asked.
Duan dasao nodded.
Song Zhaodi said, “As long as your daughter isn’t being mistreated, whether she soars to the heavens or burrows into the earth, you shouldn’t care. Just pretend you didn’t see anything.”
“But I can’t help it,” Duan dasao admitted.
Song Zhaodi nodded. “I understand. But think about it, how many more years can you control her? By the way, are you making that for Liu Ping’s baby?”
“Yes,” Duan dasao said. “But I was smart about it. I told Liu Ping to get fabric ration coupons from her mother-in-law. I didn’t use mine. I plan to use up the Jin family’s coupons before using mine.”
Song Zhaodi raised an eyebrow. “Liu Ping actually listened to you this time?”
“At first, she refused,” Duan dasao explained. “But her mother-in-law said babies should wear old clothes. I told her that if she only dressed the baby in old clothes, people would think that the daughter of a dignified regimental commander couldn’t even get a fabric coupon. Then she finally went to ask for them.”
Song Zhaodi laughed and said, “If Liu Ping keeps sleeping in, just tell her that moving around more will make childbirth easier. She’s a nurse, after all. If she doesn’t believe you, she can ask the doctors in the maternity ward, they’ll also advise her to stay active instead of sleeping all day.”
“Oh, right! Why didn’t I think of that?” Duan dasao was delighted. “I’ll tell her tomorrow.”
Song Zhaodi couldn’t help but hold her forehead. “You visit too often. Even if you say nothing, your daughter will still get annoyed.”
“Then… then I’ll wait a while before going again.” Duan dasao said this, but she only held off for a week. On June 6th, the day of the Grain in Ear solar term, she went to Yongcheng again.
Duan dasao left early. When she went out with her handbag, Zhong Jianguo hadn’t yet left for the camp. Standing under the eaves, he saw her back and couldn’t help but ask, “Did you go to Yongcheng or Hangcheng last weekend?”
“Yongcheng. Why?” Song Zhaodi stepped outside, followed his gaze, shook her head and sighed. Then she recounted what Duan dasao had told her after returning from Yongcheng. “Liu Ping better have a son. If she has a daughter, the couple will fight every day, Aunt Liu will worry herself sick and she’ll age ten years in an instant.”
Zhong Jianguo curled his lips. “She just likes to worry. If it were me–”
“You’d have to have a daughter first,” Song Zhaodi interrupted.
Zhong Jianguo choked on his words. “You won’t even give me one.”
“Oh yeah, Mom, I wanted to ask too.” Dawa, who was about to go out to play, suddenly turned back. “Aunt Liu Ping and Uncle Xiao Jin just got married and they already have a baby. You and Dad have been married for years, why don’t you have a baby?”
Song Zhaodi: “Aren’t you a child?”
Zhong Dawa shook his head, then thought for a moment and nodded. “I mean a really, really small baby. Like Lin Zhong’s sister’s baby.”
“Dawa, do you want a little brother or a little sister?” Zhong Jianguo quickly asked.
“Little brother, of course!” Dawa blurted out.
“Forget I asked.” Zhong Jianguo grabbed his jacket and walked out.
Zhong Dawa blinked, confused. “What’s wrong with Dad?”
“He wants a daughter,” Song Zhaodi explained. “I want to give you a little brother. We can’t agree, so we haven’t had another child.”
Zili was curious. “Why not have two?”
“I don’t want two.” Song Zhaodi thought to herself, I don’t even want one.
Zhong Dawa sighed. “Well, that makes things difficult.” Before Song Zhaodi could speak, he added, “Anyway, I don’t want a sister.”
“Me neither,” Erwa chimed in. “Mom, tell Dad to stop thinking about having a girl.”
Suddenly, Sanwa spoke up. “It’s okay if he wants one.”
“Zhong Xiangnan!” Dawa glared at him. “If you want a sister, you take care of her.”
Sanwa shook his head. “We can just give her away when Dad’s not home.”
“Oh, right.” Erwa thought for a moment. “That’s a good idea.”
Zili and Gengsheng exchanged glances, both seeing the helplessness in each other’s eyes.
Song Zhaodi was speechless but also amused. “You’re overthinking it. You’ll never have a little sister.”
“That’s good.” Zhong Dawa waved his small hand. “Let’s go!”
The house finally quieted down, but Song Zhaodi couldn’t help wondering: had someone told Dawa that she couldn’t have children and was just a hen that wouldn’t lay eggs? The more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed. She couldn’t hold back a curse, who was the shameless person spreading rumours?
After that, Song Zhaodi took her sewing kit and went to the Ma family to find Zhou Shufen, asking her to find out who had been gossiping about her.
As soon as Zhou Shufen heard why she had come, she immediately asked, “I want to know too, why hasn’t there been any news from your belly all this time?”
Song Zhaodi suddenly felt short of breath. “I don’t want to give birth. Too many kids already, I don’t want to work myself to death.”
“You do have quite a few children,” Zhou Shufen admitted. “But don’t you want one of your own?”
“Dawa and the others are my own,” Song Zhaodi said.
“I mean one that you gave birth to,” Zhou Shufen clarified.
“Why does it have to be one I gave birth to?” Song Zhaodi asked.
“So they’re truly yours,” Zhou Shufen blurted out.
Song Zhaodi laughed. “Is your son Zhenxing closer to you or is Dawa closer to me?”
Zhou Shufen was speechless. She took a deep breath. “I’m not helping you ask around anymore.”
“Then I’ll go buy some fabric tomorrow and make new clothes for the kids,” Song Zhaodi said. “Once they’re done, I’ll have Dawa wear his new clothes and go play at your house.”
Zhou Shufen wasn’t skilled with needlework, not because she was lazy or inattentive, but because she had clumsy hands. No matter how hard she tried, the clothes she made never looked as good as Song Zhaodi’s.
Children loved to show off and Zhou Shufen didn’t dare imagine how her son, Ma Zhenxing, would react when he saw Dawa in a new outfit while he had none. “Fine, you win.”
“Don’t say it like that,” Song Zhaodi laughed. “It’s not like I forced you.”
Zhou Shufen gave her a long look. “Teacher Song, does your husband, Commander Zhong, know your true colours?”
“He knew from the start,” Song Zhaodi said. “That’s exactly what he likes about me.”
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