My eldest cousin said that grandma was seriously ill and asked us to send money. Our mother thought it was not a big deal and didn't want to send money. Our father thought that the old man and the old woman had been bad in the past, but since it was a matter of life and death, he didn't want to be too heartless, so he wanted to send some money and malted milk.
You know, Mom has been spending a lot of money on my second brother's family lately, and she's got a bad temper. Plus, Dad doesn't talk much, but he still insists on sending money, so they started arguing. Dad is sighing in my room, and Mom is also wiping her tears in the room."
After listening to a lot of what my younger brother said.
Song Jiayu didn't think it was a big deal at all.
He patted the three of them on the head and said, "Alright, I'll go down and take care of it later. You all follow me to the kitchen and make dinner for tonight, otherwise you'll all go hungry."
There was no time to knead the dough for dinner today, so Song Jiayu just steamed a few bowls of rice, fried two dishes, and steamed egg custard for An An and Ning Ning.
When it was time for dinner, Song Jiayu asked Jiang Baizhou to invite the sulking and honest father Song to come down, while she herself went to invite the furious mother Song to come out.
When I opened the door, I saw no kerosene lamp in the dim room. Comrade Zhao Qiuqin was sitting by the window with a stubborn back and she was wiping away tears from time to time.
Song Jiayu walked over, put her hands on her mother's shoulders, then hugged her from behind and said, "What's going on? Comrade Zhao Qiuqin is also crying. Do you want me to call An An and Ning Ning to come in and comfort you?"
"...What are you doing here?" Zhao Qiuqin's surging emotions were largely dissipated by Song Jiayu's teasing. Although her tone was not good, it was not that aggressive.
"I'm here to comfort my mother. I've prepared dinner and I'd like to invite you out for dinner!"
"No, I don't want to see Song Demin now!"
"Then you don't see An'an and Ning'ning either? Both kids said they missed grandma~"
Zhao Qiuqin wanted to see An An and Ning Ning, but she was still angry.
"Song Demin and I have spent most of our lives together. Doesn't he understand what kind of person I am? If you don't believe what the village chief says, then you believe what Song Chengjiu says? I didn't say I would ignore my sick mother-in-law, but I still have to find out what the illness is. I just said this, and your father said I was reluctant to spend money.
Am I reluctant to spend money? I just don't want to be exploited by the old family.
Living with your father, I didn’t enjoy a good life. Instead, it was only after I came to the city with Jiayu that I began to live a comfortable life…”
The more I spoke, the sadder I became, and the tears that had been paused began to flow again.
Song Deming, who was called down by Jiang Baizhou, heard all this.
Sighed again.
He had indeed spoken too harshly, and it was his fault that his wife was so angry.
When she walked into the room and saw him coming, Zhao Qiuqin immediately turned around, as if she was disgusted and couldn't bear to look at him even once more.
"Qiuqin, I said something wrong. If you want to hit me or scold me, I won't fight back or say anything back."
"Why would I hit you or scold you? After all, you all have the surname Song, and I'm the only one with the surname Zhao."
"Mom, don't say that. If you want me to have the surname Zhao, I'm willing to do that."
"Yes, and me."
Zhao Qiuqin was touched by the two children and the anger in her heart disappeared, but she still acted like "I'm angry and I don't want to talk to you" to Lao Song.
While the family was having dinner, Song Jiayu shared her solution.
"Dad, if you're really worried, let Beiwang accompany you to the village for a walk."
No matter what Old Man Song and Old Mrs. Song did, she never thought of letting her biological mother go back, and Comrade Zhao Qiuqin did not grow up eating the Song family's food.
As for whether he would bring his two elders to the city?
Not to mention that Song Beiwang, who went with us, would not agree. Even if he brought the child, his biological father would not be able to raise him by himself. Not to mention, the unfair treatment he had suffered was still engraved in his heart. If his father was really foolishly filial, he would not be sitting here to eat. He would probably have bought a train ticket back to Lushan Village. He would not just say to send some money.
It would be a good idea to go and take a look, and at the same time get in touch with the old village chief to maintain our friendship.
Comrade Song Demin, who was silent for a while, agreed to go and take a look. As for Song Beiwang, it certainly didn't matter whether he went or not. It would be nice to go back to the village and see his old friends.
In this way, the father and son went to Lushan Village during the harvest season in July and returned to the city in August.
Not only did he get a darker tan, but he also brought...food.
"When we went there, they were harvesting wheat. We earned ten work points a day. Beiwang and I worked for over twenty days and accumulated a lot of work points. When the grain was distributed, we exchanged all our work points for grain."
Song Beiwang listened to his father's brief account of the hardships he had endured during that period, rolled his eyes, and complained like a woman in the boudoir, "I'm so miserable. Mom, big sister, second brother, look at me, my skin has been sunburned several times, and Dad still forced me to go to work. Ah—I'm so miserable—"
Song Jiayu just listened to her younger brother's pity talk and asked her father about the things in the village, "Dad, should grandpa and grandma be okay?"
Song Demin shook his head: "It's not a big deal, it's just Song Chengjiu and the others talking nonsense."
"Is everything okay in the village? Where's the old village chief?"
“…”
Song Beiwang:!
Zhao Qiuqin glanced at her youngest son, who was still as gloomy as ever, so she ignored him and took her second son with her, moving all the food they had brought into the kitchen.
Song Beiwang:!!
An An: "Grandma, let me help you~"
Ningning: "I want to come too~"
Song Beiwang:!!!
He looked up at the sky with grievance.
Aaaaaahhhhh!!!
No one pays attention to me!!!
No one knew about Song Beiwang's grievances, but starting from today and for several days in a row, his family stewed a chicken, stewed a duck, made fish soup, and cooked meat pie soup... This was to make up for the fatigue that the two had suffered in the village for so many days.
…
"It's so hot! Want a popsicle?"
Shen Mingyue broke the popsicle into two halves. Song Jiayu reached out to take it and took a bite. Her mouth felt icy and cool, and the heat brought by the hot summer disappeared a lot.
With one hand supporting her face boredly, her teeth biting on ice, and her eyes staring blankly at the front, Song Jiayu had been here for twenty minutes and her patience was about to run out.
"When are you going to tell that kid Lu Hanguang about your feelings?"
"No, yes...how did you know?"
Shen Mingyue almost swallowed the unmelted ice in her mouth.
She really wanted to give it a try soon.
But how did Sister Jiayu know?
Humph! The second mission of the love triangle has only come today after a month or two. Of course she would know.
But the check-in system for all people and things couldn't be said. She finished eating the popsicle on the wooden stick, smiled evilly at the gentle little sister, stood up, and when she looked up at her, she said: "This summer, Lu Hanguang's college students are on vacation. Did you guys go out together a few times?"
Shen Mingyue retorted: "Sister Yiyi and Zhang Qi are also going to play together."
"Oh my~" Song Jiayu reached out and put her hand on the gentle little sister's shoulder, sitting close to her, and continued, "So, he has come to your house several times to bring you your favorite food, right? With such gentle treatment, your little girl's heart must be full of thoughts."
This made Shen Mingyue so embarrassed that she covered her face with her hands.
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