Zili stood up and said, “I’ll go take a look.”
“Let Dawa go,” Song Zhaodi said. “He’s sitting by the door, closer to the entrance.”
Dawa put down his chopsticks, glanced at Song Zhaodi, and sighed in frustration. “I’m only one step behind Zili.”
“But you take one step less than Zili, so you’re closer,” Song Zhaodi countered. “Did I say anything wrong?”
Zhong Dawa waved his hand. “I won’t argue with you. I can’t win anyway.” With that, he dashed out.
Moments later, Zhong Dawa returned holding a letter. He looked at his father, then his mother, hesitated for a few seconds, and finally handed the letter to Song Zhaodi.
Song Zhaodi took the letter but didn’t open it. “Let’s finish eating first. If the letter contains bad news, it might spoil our appetite.”
“It’s from Uncle. His name is on the envelope,” Dawa pointed out. “Not from Grandpa or Grandma.”
Zhong Jianguo said, “If your uncle had something urgent, he would have called or sent a telegram. Since he wrote a letter, it means it’s nothing urgent. Your mother said we’ll read it after dinner, so we’ll read it after dinner.”
“Dad, you really listen to Mom,” Zhong Dawa remarked, curious about the letter’s contents, stealing glances at it beside Song Zhaodi.
Zhong Jianguo chuckled. “Don’t try to provoke me. I’ve played this game longer than you.”
“Wow, you’re amazing, playing everything before me,” Dawa muttered, obviously not believing him.
Zhong Jianguo gave him a calm glance, making Dawa shut up and focus on eating. He scooped some tomatoes and loofah onto his rice and took a bite, surprised. “Teacher Xiao Song, this dish is pretty good.”
“Tomatoes go well with everything,” Song Zhaodi said. She noticed the kids eating three bites of vegetables before barely touching their rice. She almost reminded them to eat more rice, but then she suddenly recalled her own childhood in Song Village. Her mother and elder sister used to nag Dalì the same way.
Back then, she found it annoying. Vegetables were plentiful in the fields; they didn’t have to buy them. Dalì eating vegetables like a meal wasn’t a big deal, why complain?
“What’s wrong?” Zhong Jianguo nudged her. “What are you thinking about?”
Song Zhaodi opened her mouth, about to say she almost turned into someone she used to dislike. Instead, she said, “Just remembered something. Nothing important. Zili, Gengsheng, eat more vegetables. If you finish them, I’ll make more tonight.”
“Yeah! Four eggs tonight!” Zhong Dawa chimed in. “Mom, you sure know how to eat.”
Song Zhaodi shot him a glare. “Is your mouth not busy eating? Keep talking, and I won’t add eggs to the dish tonight.”
“I believe you,” Zhong Dawa replied. “Mom never lies.”
Song Zhaodi was momentarily speechless. “Zhong Dawa, you’re getting cheekier by the day.”
“That’s because you taught me well, Mom.” Zhong Dawa blurted out.
Zhong Jianguo frowned. “Zhong Jianqiang!”
“Sorry, Mom,” Dawa immediately apologised. “I got my quick wit from Grandma.”
Zhong Jianguo chuckled. “Do you even know what genetics is?”
“Of course!” Dawa said confidently. “If you resemble someone, it means you inherited their traits. Mom explained it before, I remember.”
Song Zhaodi put down her chopsticks and opened the letter. “Enough joking. Eat up. After lunch, take a nap. You still have afternoon classes.”
A few years ago, Zhong Dawa wouldn’t have noticed people’s moods. Now, he had grown. Hearing the tone in Song Zhaodi’s voice, he knew he shouldn’t joke any further. Otherwise, he might be stuck eating tomato and loofah stir-fry again tonight.
Eager to know what the letter said, Zhong Dawa quickly ate his rice, drank some water, then scooted next to Song Zhaodi, craning his neck to read along. “Did Grandma and Grandpa cause trouble again?”
“Your uncle said that last month, your grandparents visited your aunt’s house. On the way back, it rained heavily, and your grandfather slipped and fractured his leg,” Song Zhaodi explained. “When Grandma asked Uncle for money to treat Grandpa, she also told him to write to your dad, asking for 100 yuan.”
Zhong Dawa was shocked. “A hundred yuan? That’s enough to support our family for a long time! She really dares to ask.”
“In Grandma’s eyes, your dad is a big, fat sheep,” Song Zhaodi said. “Before, she couldn’t even pluck a bit of wool from him. Now that she finally has the chance, of course she’s asking for a fortune.”
Zhong Dawa turned to her. “So, Mom, are you giving her the money?”
“Your uncle suggested we send fifty since Grandpa can still walk with a cane. He says it’s not too serious,” Song Zhaodi said, looking at Zhong Jianguo. “It’s your father’s decision. What do you think?”
Zhong Jianguo thought for a moment. “Write back to my brother and tell him we’ll send fifty yuan a year for Grandpa’s care, starting this year. And let him know that we’ll be covering this ourselves.”
“I’ll write it now and send it this afternoon,” Song Zhaodi said, patting Dawa. “Get me a pen.”
Zhong Dawa frowned. “Why give them money? Grandpa didn’t even want to raise Dad when he was little.”
“That may be true, but that’s not how we should act,” Song Zhaodi replied, pausing for a moment. “In the past, when your grandma and my mother came here making a fuss, I really wanted to beat them up. But I had to hold back.”
Zhong Dawa was feeling anxious. “Why do we always have to deal with these kinds of people?”
“Every family has them,” Song Zhaodi replied as she took the paper and pen handed to her by Gengsheng. “There are good people and bad people in this world. Some are reasonable, while others have the thickest skin imaginable. Some will call you their friend to your face but claim they don’t know you behind your back.”
Zhong Jianguo added, “And some might even conspire against you.” He paused for a moment. “You’re still young. When you grow up, you’ll realise that sometimes you wish someone would just drop dead, but when you see them, you still have to put on a smile.”
“Like how Dad acts around Ma Zhonghua?” Zhong Dawa asked.
Zhong Jianguo was momentarily stunned and almost didn’t react. “I don’t have that much hatred for Ma Zhonghua. Old Ma might be unreliable in small matters, but when it comes to major issues, he never wavers.”
“That’s all?” Zhong Dawa thought for a moment, looking a bit disappointed.
Zhong Jianguo pointed at Song Zhaodi. “Have you noticed that your mother doesn’t like Lin Zhong’s mom?”
“I know,” Dawa said. “I don’t like her either, her smile is so fake.”
Zhong Jianguo continued, “Then have you noticed that every time your mom talks to Chen dasao, she smiles like a fool?”
“You’re the fool,” Song Zhaodi retorted, stepping on his foot.
Zhong Jianguo gasped. “I was just making an example.”
“Well, I didn’t break your toes,” Song Zhaodi said before turning to Dawa. “I don’t like Chen dasao, yet I still smile at her. Do you know why?”
Dawa thought for a moment. “Because you’re hiding a knife behind your smile.”
“Pfft!” Zhong Jianguo spat out the water he was drinking, soaking his pants. “I should spank you for that.” He cleared his throat. “Chen dasao is our neighbor, and Lin Zhong’s father is my comrade-in-arms. We see each other all the time, so it’s not wise to create hostility. That’s why your mom tolerates her.”
Gengsheng was curious. “Why can’t we just ignore her? Just because they live nearby?”
“That’s not the only reason,” Zhong Jianguo explained. “For example, if I’m not home and Sanwa suddenly falls ill, your mom would have to take him to the hospital. If the Grandma next door is also out, she could go to the Lin family and ask Chen dasao for help, maybe to cook for you guys or steam some rice. But if we don’t talk to her, your mom would have to find someone else. That’s the advantage of having good relations with neighbors.”
Song Zhaodi added, “There’s one more thing your dad didn’t mention. If I ignore Chen dasao, she might badmouth me to Lin Zhong’s father. He would then think I’m a bad person and start distancing himself from your dad. Over time, he might even turn against your father.”
“You adults are so complicated,” Dawa muttered, not fully understanding. His head was spinning, and he couldn’t help but yawn.
Seeing this, Song Zhaodi said, “Adults are indeed complicated. If you don’t want to hear this, go upstairs. Zili, take your younger brothers for a nap.”
“Okay.” Zili led the half-asleep Sanwa ahead. Dawa and Gengsheng walked side by side in the middle, while Erwa trailed behind them.
Watching the five children leave, Song Zhaodi sighed. “If only they were this well-behaved all the time.”
“No other kids on the island are as obedient as ours,” Zhong Jianguo remarked as he noticed how slowly she was writing. “Still not done?”
“I was just about to finish, but then the kids interrupted me, and I forgot what I was going to write,” Song Zhaodi replied. “Your dad got injured on the way back from your stepsister’s house. Your stepmother shouldn’t be asking us for money, she should be asking her own daughter.”
“Do you think that’s possible?” Zhong Jianguo scoffed. “Not a chance. But we can have my elder brother mention it to my dad. Also, tell him to give the fifty yuan in five separate payments.”
Song Zhaodi clicked her tongue. “Ten yuan at a time? Zhao Yin is going to curse you out.”
“No matter how much money I give her, she’ll never be satisfied. She’ll just think it’s too little,” Zhong Jianguo said. “For someone as ungrateful as her, even giving ten yuan a year pains me.”
Song Zhaodi chuckled. “So should we just stop giving her money?”
“If we do that, she’ll make a scene at my brother’s house every day,” Zhong Jianguo said. “She might even find a way to dump my dad on my brother.”
Song Zhaodi smirked. “As if giving her money would stop her from doing that. No offense, but your dad might as well have died from that fall, it would save both our families from endless trouble.”
“You’re ruthless sometimes, Teacher Xiao Song,” Zhong Jianguo said. “That’s still my father. It’s one thing to think it, but saying it to my face? That’s too much.”
Song Zhaodi rolled her eyes. “Oh, stop pretending to be a filial son. Be honest, when I told you your dad was injured but not seriously, weren’t you a little disappointed?”
Zhong Jianguo coughed and quickly stood up. “I’m heading to the base.”
“Wash the dishes before you leave,” Song Zhaodi reminded him.
Zhong Jianguo rubbed his forehead. “You’re free this afternoon. You do it. I’m busy.”
“Alright, go then,” Song Zhaodi said. “But you’re cooking dinner tonight.”
Zhong Jianguo froze. “Song Zhaodi–”
“We agreed: When you’re not home, I handle everything. But when you are home, you wash the dishes and do the laundry,” Song Zhaodi stated firmly. “What’s wrong? Do you want to call me petty? Or say I’m not a good wife?”
Zhong Jianguo took a deep breath. “I must have owed you in my past life!”
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