Chapter 5: Mother-in-law is not my mother, but it is also troublesome
Yueyue is missing.
It was 170 kilometers from home to Tianjin. Wang Qingwei drove the car like he was on a hot wheel. The couple didn't speak a word along the way. Only the whistling sound of the night wind rushed back and forth in the car with poor sound insulation. The occasional smell of dust that drifted in through the sealed and aging car windows tickled He Xiaolan's nose, making her want to cry. However, the tears could not flow out, as they could not disturb the mind of those who were driving at night.
Yueyue is the only chain in Wang Qingwei and He Xiaolan's marriage. The rusty chain is tied with the daily necessities, which makes the two people hesitate when saying "divorce" and quietly add "there are still children".
"What if Yueyue can't be found?"
This was the only sentence he said tonight. Wang Qingwei's hand shook violently and the front of the car veered towards the highway guardrail. He quickly turned the steering wheel and the suddenly braked tires made a harsh sound as they scraped against the ground.
"What nonsense..." Wang Qingwei is considered a competent father. When Yueyue was little, he was responsible for feeding her at night. At that time, He Xiaolan even teased him that the effect of staying up late to write code had finally been realized.
He Xiaolan didn't have time to blame He Lianhua. The three of them split up to look for her, and the police station also called the police. At the police station door, the plastic bag in He Lianhua's hands clattered, and five mineral water bottles bumped into each other inside. She kept saying, "The police won't accept a case within 24 hours. That's how it's played out in TV dramas." Even though her son had the police report receipt in his hand and it was crushed to pieces, He Lianhua kept nagging. It was useless. He had to look for her own child and take care of her own child. As if repeating this sentence could cover up the fact that "Yueyue was missing."
At this moment, no one cares about quality, knowledge, seniority or social status.
"I don't know what you're thinking. Are you really stupid? Why didn't you pick Yueyue up after school? Why did we ask you to come here? Are you here to collect junk in Tianjin?"
Yes, even at this moment, He Lianhua still refused to let go of the plastic bag containing the five mineral water bottles. She felt wronged. How could sharing the responsibility for her son be wrong? She looked at Wang Qingwei, hoping his son would speak up for her, but the younger one was more important than the older one. Wang Qingwei's words of comfort were also tinged with resentment. He Lianhua had no choice but to throw away the five mineral water bottles and swear for the hundredth time that she would never again interfere in her son's family's troubles.
Only women know the pain of childbirth. Talk too much about it and people will accuse you of being sentimental; too little and they'll pressure you into having a second child. Ultimately, you're left to grapple with it, waiting for years to pass. As the happiness of raising a child gradually increases, the pain is overwhelmed by the joy of having a child call you "Mom." This cycle repeats itself, and when a woman in her seventies or eighties encounters a younger woman, she'll simply say, "It's good to have a child. I'll take care of you when you're old."
He Xiaolan believed this allegory and was willing to endure all the discomforts of morning sickness, edema, and a cold and fever that couldn't take medicine to give birth to the child. For a while, He Xiaolan couldn't stand Wang Qingwei anymore. He was like a chicken covered in shit, smelly and noisy. He Xiaolan told Qin Tiantian that she wanted a divorce. When she mentioned the child, she only said, "If I had to choose again, I definitely wouldn't give birth to her, but I don't regret raising her."
Finally, they found Yueyue under the bridge by the Haihe River. She sat at the entrance to the cruise ship dock, gazing at the boats with a melancholic expression, a few coins clutched in her hand. At that moment, anyone would have wanted to pick her up. Just like in those melodramatic TV dramas, He Xiaolan crouched by the river, clutching her child, sobbing uncontrollably. Wang Qingwei stood behind the mother and daughter, a look of melancholy on his face, then lit a cigarette he had just bought from the newsstand. A cigarette, whether happy or sad, is like a man's second brother; it must be used to express his emotions.
Yueyue said she didn't want to stay in Tianjin anymore. The waste her grandmother had collected was piled up at home, stinking, and sometimes you could even see bugs crawling around. Wang Qingwei said a few words to He Lianhua, but they were as gentle as a tickle, completely useless. No matter how wrong a mother was, a son couldn't say anything harsh. In the end, all he could do was ask his wife to be "more understanding." Fortunately, Wang Qingwei didn't say that, otherwise He Xiaolan would have hit him right there.
By midnight, the couple, both in their late 40s, were exhausted. Wang Qingwei lay on the floor, He Xiaolan on the sofa. They both sighed almost simultaneously, the sticky exhaustion in their voices like a wet rag, dimming the light in the room.
"Why don't you call your mother over? She's retired and doesn't have anything to do at home." Wang Qingwei turned over. The floor was hard, and the pain in his already herniated disc became even worse.
He Xiaolan suddenly became nervous. Although Ms. Zhang Xinrong would definitely not do something as demeaning as picking up trash, she would definitely do more incredible things. When He Xiaolan and Wang Qingwei first started dating, He Xiaolan went to a fortune teller to calculate their horoscopes. The fortune teller said that they would both have to leave their hometowns to develop their careers and absolutely could not return to their hometowns. They also had few relatives and no one to help them.
"I said that the master's calculations were very accurate at that time, so we have to rely on ourselves. Otherwise, we can find a college student to pick us up from school, tutor us, and let us go back to school to sleep at night. I will go and inquire about the price tomorrow."
Wang Qingwei, the materialistic and stingy person, snorted disdainfully and turned away, "How much does that cost? It's already at least 5,000 yuan a month. Can you accept an additional 5,000 yuan in expenses a month?"
"It's not about the money. If you really can't do it, just hire a part-time worker to take care of dinner and pick-up. It can't be too expensive, right?"
He Xiaolan poked his butt with her toes to make him continue to listen to her. It is said that an old couple will hug each other more tightly after going through many storms. Wang Qingwei was now in a sexual mood and grabbed He Xiaolan's ankle and pulled her into his arms.
It was a magical hug. It felt like they hadn't properly hugged each other since Chinese New Year. Wang Qingwei still smelled like the shower gel he'd bought himself, and his own shampoo. His pajamas were a discarded T-shirt, the collar yellowed from washing, limp and clinging to his body. The laundry detergent smelled like home, so familiar, like hugging a male version of himself.
But at the height of her passion, she was desperate for some excitement. This man's physique hadn't changed much at all; he didn't have any abdominal muscles. He felt like a soft, sagging mass of flesh, a middle-aged man devoid of desire. She kissed him on the mouth, and the garlic-soaked fennel dumplings she'd eaten that night entered her mouth. Wang Qingwei had forgotten to brush his teeth that night.
Forget it, let’s stop here. At this age, there is no need to play some little love games to have in-depth communication. It will increase costs and reduce efficiency, and it is easy to have unexpected costs such as having a second child. That will really push yourself into the fire pit.
The word "freshness" loses its freshness if you say it too much, just like the dead lychees sold in supermarkets, trying hard to maintain their value in the ice. If it is not fresh, it is not fresh. No matter how you try to hide it, your tongue can always taste it.
He Xiaolan and Wang Qingwei were introduced by a friend. At the age of 29, they were both eager to get married. Their courtship felt like a formality, devoid of romance. He Xiaolan still loves watching idol dramas, staring at the male and female protagonists hugging and kissing on screen. It's a form of romantic compensation, a way to find some real comfort in the fake romance.
Qin Tiantian knew Yueyue was almost lost, and she insisted on buying a high-speed rail ticket to Tianjin to confront He Lianhua. When He Xiaolan was about to give birth, Qin Tiantian told her that Yueyue would be her goddaughter from now on. She paid for all the tutoring fees, but the price she paid was that when she was old and living in a nursing home, Yueyue would have to bring her the same fruit she brought to He Xiaolan and her husband. When she died, Yueyue would burn paper money and handsome men for her on important occasions like Qingming Festival, so she wouldn't be alone in the afterlife.
Qian Helin was assigned by Wang Qingwei to go to Tianjin to help him send his mother to meet his mother-in-law. He Xiaolan and Wang Qingwei were both pinched by the neck and dared not slack off for a minute. When Qian Helin called He Xiaolan, He Xiaolan was in the bathroom silently insulting Yang Fan in front of the mirror.
On the other end of the phone, Ms. Zhang Xinrong was giving Qian Helin a "lecture," saying that he and Hua Hudie were in a good relationship and that they should have a child quickly. Qian Helin didn't respond, but just kept praising her, his words as sweet as honey. If he had discovered his ability earlier, would there be no need for Yu Qian? Zhang Xinrong said one sentence, and he responded with another, flattering the old lady so much that she almost said on the spot that she would pass all her property to him. After hanging up the phone, He Xiaolan looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were blue, as if she had been up all night. The keyboard in the office outside was clacking non-stop, like a web that would never be finished.
Just after hanging up Qian Helin, Hua Hudie called, asking if she'd be working overtime that night, saying she wanted to take Qin Tiantian to the bar. He Xiaolan had almost forgotten how to say "no overtime." When she'd first joined the company, the job posting had said, "10 AM to 6 PM, relaxed atmosphere." But when she finally got in, she realized it was all fake. The job posting was a massive scam, using 3D-printed fake grass to lure a herd of nearly-formed cattle and horses into the pen.
At noon, most office lights were still on. In the sunless cubicles, people sat buried in piles of paperwork, their keyboards clacking away as the only sound. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of the recreation area, the sky was gray. It was almost October, and the leaves of Beijing's trees were slowly turning yellow. Their branches, facing the leaden sky, seemed to be countless hands reaching out for help.
A large cake sat in the lounge area, ordered by Ge Lin. He Xiaolan had taught her: "Work should be done in front of the boss and in front of colleagues and friends." Ge Lin remembered this and followed two principles when ordering cakes: it had to be a famous brand and it had to be beautiful.
The buttercream on the cake was curled high. Coworkers glanced at it as they passed, but no one really wanted to eat it. The sweetness was laced with the bitterness of overtime and the panic everyone felt about losing their jobs. He Xiaolan stood beside the cake, sniffing the cloying sweetness. Suddenly, she felt nauseous. She turned and walked back to her office, placing her hands on the keyboard. The keyboard clicked, and she had to go on with her life.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
