Jiang Canran waved his hand. “Go home. Don’t run around town hanging out with idle youths, got it?”
Jiang Zhi pouted. “Nagging. I’m going.”
Jiang Canran watched her walk away, frowning. He had heard that recently she’d been getting close to the local gang of young troublemakers.
These idle youths had hands and feet but no work; they spent their time doing all sorts of shady things—selling illegal tapes or extorting people. Whenever they got caught, it was just a few days in the detention center before they were back out. Nothing could stop them.
At first, he thought Jiang Zhi was too young to handle farm work at the pig factory. Now he figured that rather than letting her wander around causing trouble, it was better to send her to the chicken farm to feed the chickens. He would talk to Zhou Fuguang about it once the snow melted.
Qin Baozhu played with Lusheng for a while.
When she got tired, she handed the child back to Zhou Fuguang.
Taking the child into his lap, Zhou Fuguang looked at Lusheng, who today seemed unusually obedient. He raised an eyebrow.
Despite appearances, the sweet and obedient-looking Lusheng was actually even naughtier and more disobedient than Zhou Jingrui. Jingrui could be disciplined, but Lusheng never listened.
She had a strong-willed personality, and even Aunt Feng sometimes couldn’t hold her. So Zhou Fuguang had to keep her at the factory to prevent accidents.
Yet in Baozhu’s hands, this wild little girl was completely pliant, eager to please. No wonder she was Baozhu’s biological child—she knew exactly how to read the family dynamics and people’s moods.
Zhou Fuguang reached out, gently pinching his daughter’s cheek. Lusheng looked up with big watery eyes, innocently at her father. Zhou Fuguang couldn’t help smiling, then looked at Aunt Feng. “Aunt Feng, the factory’s about to start work. You and Baozhu can head home now.”
Seeing the family’s warm atmosphere, Aunt Feng felt relieved and nodded with a smile. “Alright, Baozhu and I will go back then.”
Baozhu slowly stood up, wrapped her red scarf around her again, only her eyes visible, glancing at Zhou Fuguang.
The man, holding the child, stood tall—one head taller than her—and nodded at her.
Baozhu lowered her gaze, still not used to this husband, muttering a greeting as she walked off with Aunt Feng.
Once Baozhu left, the employees gathered around. Those familiar with Zhou Fuguang leaned on him jokingly, “Boss, your wife doesn’t seem mentally impaired at all. Why are we only seeing her now?”
Jiang Canran stepped forward. “Of course she’s fine. A few days ago, she woke up completely.”
The employees were stunned and crowded around Zhou Fuguang.
“Really? Boss, why didn’t you tell us such good news?”
“Great! Now the boss won’t have it so hard taking care of the kids!”
“Your wife should come to the factory more often. She seems really nice.”
…
Zhou Fuguang, holding the child, listened to the chatter, smiling faintly, saying nothing.
On the way home, Aunt Feng was full of regret.
“Oh dear, how could I forget to bring the little balloon I bought for Lusheng?”
“She’d have loved it even more!”
“This is the first time I’ve seen her so well-behaved. Normally, Little Zhou can’t even hold her—she’d be squirming to go out after just a bit!”
“If it weren’t for work, I’d let you hold her all afternoon! Really!”
…
Qin Baozhu thought Aunt Feng’s words were a bit exaggerated. Such a gentle, rice-cake-soft little girl, and Aunt Feng made her sound like some kind of wild beast. Hilarious.
Baozhu had a good memory. Having walked the route with Aunt Feng, she knew the way back and didn’t pay much attention to her chatter, walking along quietly.
Near home, she suddenly remembered something and asked casually, “Aunt Feng, what’s the name of the short-haired girl?”
Aunt Feng froze mid-chatter, blinking, then remembered. “Oh, you mean Jiang Zhi? She’s Jiang Canran’s sister. You know Jiang Canran, right? The guy who came to our house a few days ago to discuss your condition with Little Zhou… Why do you ask?”
Baozhu knew Jiang Canran. That day, when she had just woken up, he had come holding Lusheng. Zhou Fuguang’s friend had a striking, somewhat unconventional presence that left a strong impression.
“She doesn’t seem to like me,” Baozhu said lightly.
Aunt Feng hesitated, then coaxed her, “How could that be? Back when you were alone at home, Jiang Zhi always came to take care of you.”
“Oh…” Baozhu said softly. So she just doesn’t like the current me.