Chapter 253 Gossiping

She paused, as if considering her words, before finally saying, "Li An and I can take care of ourselves. Our home is small, but it's enough."

"He can take care of people? You must be kidding me!"

Song Yazhi's voice suddenly rose, her tone filled with undisguised doubt. But as soon as she finished speaking, she seemed to realize something and quickly lowered her voice, as if afraid of disturbing the peace in the room. "Wanyin, Mom knows... I was really a jerk before... I shouldn't have treated you like that, I shouldn't have... driven you away..."

Her eyes dimmed, her fingers gripped the edge of her apron tightly, her knuckles turned white, and her voice trembled slightly.

"mom."

Qiao Wanyin gently interrupted her, her tone calm but not argumentative, "We're home."

Fu Li'an was squatting in the yard, holding an axe in his hand, chopping at a thick piece of firewood.

Wood chips flew everywhere, and sweat beaded on his forehead. Hearing the commotion outside the courtyard, he suddenly looked up.

He saw his parents at a glance, his hand trembled, and the axe almost slipped from his grasp and hit his feet.

"Dad? Mom? Why... are you back?"

He stood up in shock, still clutching the axe in his hand, his face filled with surprise and panic.

"What, you don't want to see us?"

Fu Xianxiu kept a straight face and deliberately lowered his voice, but the corners of his eyes couldn't help but curve upwards, even the fine lines at the corners of his eyes hid a smile, like a spring breeze blowing across parched land.

"Don't mention it! Come inside, come inside! Don't stand in the wind by the door! It's chilly, be careful not to catch a cold!"

Fu Lian immediately snapped out of his daze, hurriedly pushed open the creaking courtyard gate, brushing the sawdust off his pants while urging him on.

After dinner, Song Yazhi rushed to clear the dishes before Qiao Wanyin could, her movements so swift and efficient that she didn't seem like a guest at all.

She stacked the dishes and carried them into the kitchen. She turned on the tap, and the sound of running water immediately filled the small space.

As she washed, she hummed a few off-key old songs softly, her voice so low it sounded like she was talking to herself, or perhaps trying to soothe some kind of unease.

Qiao Wanyin did not stop her.

She just sat silently on the edge of the bed, her fingers unconsciously twirling the corner of the blanket.

Listening to the sound of water coming from the kitchen, and the intermittent old tune, she felt as if her heart was blocked by a wet cotton ball, making her feel suffocated and unable to breathe.

The cotton ball, soaked with water, pressed heavily against her chest, making her almost cough, yet unable to utter a sound.

What are you thinking about?

Fu Lian gently lay down next to her, the pillow sinking slightly.

He handed me a cup of hot milk. The cup was warm, and wisps of steam rose up, swirling like smoke in the dim light.

Qiao Wanyin took the cup, her fingertips touching the warm porcelain surface. The warmth seeped into her body little by little from her palms, but her heart was still hanging in mid-air.

She stared at the milky white liquid swirling in the glass, her voice so soft it was almost a whisper: "Your mother... has changed so much. I'm a little... unsure how to respond."

She had considered that this return might be another setup.

Could it be another case of outward warmth masking underlying malice?

She was hurt so deeply that even now, hearing the word "mother-in-law" makes her instinctively tense up.

Fu Lian gently grasped her hand, his fingertips caressing the inside of her wrist, his movements extremely light, as if afraid of hurting her.

He was silent for a few seconds before slowly sighing: "Dad said in the letter that Mom hid in her room and cried for three whole days after she went back."

He paused, his voice lowering, tinged with heartache: "She's never given in her life, this is the first time she's been like this. She wouldn't listen to anyone's advice, she just sat there, tears streaming down her face, without saying a word."

"What she did in the past really hurt you deeply."

He looked at her, his eyes filled with guilt and helplessness, "But now... she really regrets it."

"But now, she really wants to change, Qingqing... are you willing to trust her one more time?"

These words floated lightly in the air, like a withered leaf falling into a deep pool.

Song Yazhi's voice trembled slightly, her eyes filled with trepidation and anticipation, as if she were waiting for a judgment whose ending was already predetermined.

Her fingers unconsciously twisted the edge of her apron, her fingertips turning white, but she dared not look directly at Qiao Wanyin.

She knew that she had made too many mistakes in the past. Those cold words, those sarcasm, and those days of pointing fingers at her behind her back had already left deep scars on her daughter's heart.

Now she wants to turn back and make amends, but can this door to her heart still be reopened for her?

She didn't know.

She could only ask this question cautiously, as if reaching out her hand at the edge of a cliff, begging for a chance to be pulled back.

Qiao Wanyin didn't speak, but simply rested her head gently on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

Her movements were very light, as if she was afraid of disturbing something.

Li An stood to the side, not moving, but silently reached out and gently put his arm around her shoulder.

His palms were warm, carrying a reassuring strength.

Qiao Wanyin closed her eyes, her eyelashes trembled slightly, but there were no tears.

Her thoughts were like a leaf floating on the water, drifting with the waves, yet unable to find a place to return to.

It wasn't that she didn't hate, nor that she didn't understand, but at this moment, she only wanted to escape those past conflicts briefly, even if it was just for a moment of peace.

She leaned on his shoulder, like a weary bird finally landing on a branch.

letter?

The word churned in her heart, like a stone sunk to the bottom of water, stirring up ripples.

When her eyes are open, it swirls in her mind; when her eyes are closed, it churns deep within her memory.

She asked herself, can I still really trust them?

The person who pushed her into the depths of despair, the person who stood by coldly when she was at her most vulnerable, the person who laughed and said "she deserved it" in front of her relatives...

Now you say you want to change?

She did give them chances.

The first time, during the first three months of her pregnancy, she suffered from severe morning sickness and could barely eat anything.

She called Song Yazhi, just wanting to hear, "Eat more, don't go hungry."

But the other person said, "Kids these days are so spoiled. Back in our day, who didn't have to work in the fields as usual?"

There was not a trace of pity in his tone, only indifference and disdain.

The second time, she suffered unbearable abdominal pain in the middle of the night and was taken to the hospital, where the doctor said she had signs of threatened miscarriage.

She lay on the hospital bed, pale-faced, her hands still trembling.

When Song Yazhi arrived, she didn't ask if she was alright, but instead scolded her in front of the doctor: "How could you be so careless? If the baby is lost, how will you explain yourself!"

The tenth time, at a family gathering, she was publicly mocked by several relatives for "being in a hurry to get married because she can't get married herself." She lowered her head and pretended not to hear, but Song Yazhi laughed and echoed, "Yes, only Li An would want her."

Once, twice, ten times...

She treated everyone with sincerity, but all she got in return was cold looks, barbs, and gossip behind her back.

She naively believed that as long as she was filial enough and tried her best, she would one day earn a heartfelt word and a warm hug from her mother.

She had secretly shed tears countless nights, asking herself if she had done something wrong.

She tried to understand, tried to be tolerant, and tried to forgive.

But what I got in return was repeated heartbreak.

Now, she doesn't even want to hope anymore.