Song Qi'an politely declined the Zhou family's offer to stay for dinner. Just as his car stopped at the door, Zhao Xinfeng ran over.
"Brother, Uncle came over today."
Song Qi'an couldn't help but use a little force when closing the door, and Zhao Xinfeng glanced at his face, which looked unpleasant.
“My dad and mom kept people outside, so my uncle didn’t even get to see my aunt.”
Song Qi'an glanced at the lit area on the second floor of the house and asked, "How is my mother?"
“My aunt didn’t know that my uncle had come; my grandfather had taken her to the fields at the time.”
Upon hearing this, Song Qi'an's tense jawline finally relaxed.
He looked away and reached out to Zhao Xinfeng, "Give me a cigarette."
"What cigarettes? What are you talking about, brother? My grandpa doesn't let me smoke." Zhao Xinfeng tried to play dumb.
Song Qi'an gave him a sidelong glance, and without saying a word, Zhao Xinfeng obediently took out a pack of cigarettes from his inner pocket.
"Don't tell your family if you smoke my cigarettes, or my dad will beat me with his belt again."
He lit a cigarette with a lighter, took a drag, and exhaled smoke rings that filled the air in front of him.
Zhao Xinfeng turned his head to look, and perhaps because of the darkness of the night, he felt that his omnipotent cousin had a touch of sorrow between his brows.
With a cigarette between his slender fingers, the red dot flickering on his fingertips, Song Qi'an gazed ahead, his eyes deep and unfathomable.
Zhao Xinfeng cautiously asked, "Brother, are you thinking about Aunt and Uncle?"
Song Qi'an lowered his eyes to look at the cigarette between his fingers. He had only taken one puff, but the cigarette was burning quite quickly, already more than halfway through.
Suddenly, Song Qi'an loosened his grip and stomped out the burning cigarette.
“Xinfeng, soon he won’t be your great-uncle anymore.”
When he said this, Song Qi'an's eyes were filled with ruthlessness.
Zhao Xinfeng was shocked. "Brother, putting aside whether Auntie agrees or not, how could Uncle possibly get a divorce?"
“He will agree,” Song Qi’an said calmly.
Only Song Qi'an himself knew how hard he tried to suppress his anger.
"I'm going upstairs to keep my mom company." With that, Song Qi'an strode up to the second floor.
Zhao Xinfeng didn't dare to linger; he needed to quickly tell his family about it so they could be mentally prepared.
When Song Qi'an went up, Zhao Wenxiu was reading a book, and under the lamplight, there was a faint white strand in her hair.
"mom."
Seeing her son approach, Zhao Wenxiu put down the book in her hand and stood up.
"Qi'an is back. Mom will go get you something to eat."
"Mom, I've already eaten, don't bother." Song Qi'an stopped his mother and pulled up a stool to sit down next to her.
Zhao Wenxiu, who had just sat down, reached for a blanket. "It's already autumn, why are you still wearing so little?"
Song Qi'an was worried about the smell of smoke on his coat, so he took it off and draped it over the railing in the corridor when he came up, leaving him in only a shirt.
He was physically strong and didn't feel cold at all, but he didn't reject his mother's concern.
After exchanging a few casual words with her son, Zhao Wenxiu asked, "Is there something you want to tell me?"
Song Qi'an replied: Did I make it too obvious?
Zhao Wenxiu chuckled, "Mom knows you too well. You're not exactly a sweet, caring girl; you never talk about family matters."
"Mom knew you had something to say."
No one knows a son better than his mother. Zhao Wenxiu understood her son and guessed what he wanted to say.
"You're going to talk about your father, right?"
Song Qi'an nodded and told him everything he had found out without any reservations.
"That woman is pregnant."
Zhao Wenxiu was momentarily lost in thought; her nose twitched rapidly, clearly indicating that she was extremely excited.
Song Qi'an held his mother's hand, "Mom, we can still live a good life without him."
“Now my business is back on track, and our lives won’t be any worse than before, even without him.”
Zhao Wenxiu stared blankly at her son, whose face overlapped with her husband Song Yuan's, but the two faces quickly separated again.
Song Yuan's face became increasingly blurry, until only his son's face remained.
"Silly child, what's the difference between living a normal life?"
“We’ve survived such hard times before, and now that you’re so successful, what do I have to be afraid of?”
Zhao Wenxiu choked up a little, but she held back in front of her son.
"Qi'an, Mom doesn't want to see him again. Let's arrange a divorce as soon as possible."
I feel disgusted just looking at her!
"Mom doesn't want anything, she just wants you."
Song Qi'an knelt down in front of Zhao Wenxiu, his expression resolute.
“Mom, I’ll handle the rest. What’s yours must be taken. You’ve worked so hard all those years to earn money to support his education. We can’t let all that hard work go to waste, and we can’t let it go to someone else.”
Zhao Wenxiu closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. "You decide."
"Mom is tired and wants to rest. You've been out all day too, so go and get some rest."
After Song Qi'an came out, he did not leave immediately. He looked out the window and saw his mother slumped over the table. He could not see the expression on her face, but her shoulders were shaking violently.
As soon as Song Qi'an stepped down the stairs, he found that the rest of the Zhao family were waiting at the bottom of the stairs.
Everyone looked at him. "Qi An, what did your mother say?"
They all knew that Song Qi'an had gone up to ask Zhao Wenxiu for her opinion.
Song Qi'an nodded slightly. "My mom agreed."
Zhao Xinfeng's father, Zhao Wenbing, clapped his hands suddenly, "I knew it, my sister is perfectly sober."
Tian Xiaoyun, who was standing next to him, slapped him and said, "Keep your voice down, don't disturb your sister."
"Let's talk inside." Old Master Zhao Fengshou, holding a pipe, was the first to enter the house.
He looked at his grandson, "Qian, if your mother agrees, then we'll do what we need to do."
"Resolve this matter as soon as possible, so that no one keeps coming to our door shamelessly and causing gossip."
Since Zhao Wenxiu returned to live here, Song Yuan has come several times, but he has never entered the Zhao family's gate. The neighbors have noticed this and, although they haven't asked openly, they've been gossiping about it behind her back.
Zhao Wenbing gritted his teeth, “Dad, our Zhao family isn’t afraid of gossip. If that bastard Song Yuan comes again, none of you can stop me. I’m going to beat him up.”
"What are you afraid of, you're a grown man? I'm mainly afraid that I'll hear something unpleasant."
Tian Xiaoyun rolled her eyes at her husband; men just think things too simply.
Song Qi'an's eyes darkened. "Grandpa, Uncle, Aunt, I'm going to the city now. Please take care of my mother."
"Hey." Zhao Wenbing grabbed his nephew. "It's so late, why are you still going to the city?"
"The sooner this is resolved, the sooner my mother will be free." Severing ties with Song Yuan was urgent, and Song Qi'an didn't want to wait even a minute longer.
"Let's do it Qi An's way," said Old Master Zhao.
"Qian is a thoughtful child; you can't go wrong by listening to him."
Zhao Wenbing then let go of Song Qi'an's hand. Song Qi'an took the car keys, got out, and started the car. The taillights quickly disappeared from the Zhao family's sight.
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