“I didn’t say that!” Li Anping frowned. “Maybe she was just guessing wildly. Mom, don’t get involved in this.”
A flicker of panic rose in Li Anping’s heart—why did it feel like everything was slipping out of his control?
“Daddy, I want candy!” Li Dongle ran over, tugging at Li Anping for sweets.
“Go ask your mom!” Li Anping snapped impatiently.
“My mom’s not home… *sob sob*… why are you all being mean to me…” Li Dongle burst into tears.
“You’re the ones who always said bad things about her, told her to get lost. Now that I said it once, she really did leave…”
Hearing his son cry and say this only made Li Anping more irritable. “Enough! Shut up and stop crying!”
After yelling at Li Dongle, Li Anping didn’t want to stay home anymore. He wanted to find Zhou Xinping—only with her could he feel joy again.
“Anping, don’t rush off to Xinping and the child. If people see you together, won’t that just prove Lin Jingwen right and leave you in the wrong?” Zhang Lanxiang quickly pulled him back, whispering urgently.
The things Lin Jingwen had said that afternoon still echoed in her mind. She was afraid—afraid her son would be branded with the shameful reputation of having an affair.
Li Anping knew his mother was right. He could only nod and endure it.
That night, when it was time to sleep, Li Dongle refused to share a room with his birth mother. He insisted on sleeping in the same bed as Li Anping.
Usually, Lin Jingwen was the one who tucked him in—making sure he went to the bathroom first and didn’t drink too much water, so he wouldn’t wet the bed. As long as those two things were done, Li Dongle rarely woke up at night needing to pee.
But Li Anping had hardly ever taken care of Li Dongle, so he didn’t know any of this. He neither made him go to the bathroom before bed nor kept an eye on how much water he drank.
By midnight, when Li Dongle stirred groggily and whimpered that he needed to pee, Li Anping was still fast asleep, completely oblivious.
So, Li Dongle wet the bed!
In the dead of winter, no less—a huge puddle that soaked both the mattress and the quilt. The stench and discomfort enraged Li Anping instantly!
“I told you not to wet the bed! I’ll beat you to death! Are you stupid, brainless? If you need to pee, why don’t you get up and use the chamber pot!” Li Anping grabbed Li Dongle, hitting him while cursing furiously.
Li Dongle wailed at the top of his lungs, his cries shaking the whole house.
That was it—nobody in the household could sleep anymore.
Zhang Lanxiang scrambled up and quickly called for her eldest daughter-in-law to take care of her own son.
Huang Juan, grumbling and cursing, dragged herself out of bed. Unable to sleep and angry, she shouted loudly: “Dongle’s already been adopted by the third brother. He’s not my son anymore. Just this once—I won’t take care of him again!”
“What nonsense! Even if he’s adopted by the third, he’s still your flesh and blood. Since the third brother’s wife isn’t here, you’ll take care of Dongle! Your second child still sleeps with me, doesn’t he!”
Zhang Lanxiang scolded her harshly again.
“That’s only because there’s no house, no place to live. If we had a house, I wouldn’t let the second child sleep with you! Right now, even the eldest and the third don’t have beds. If Dongle sleeps with me, then Jianguo has to go sleep in the staff dormitory. Otherwise, two children and two adults crammed into one bed—it’s impossible!” Huang Juan, equally angry, snapped back at her mother-in-law.
“What are you yelling for? Once the third gets his own place, he’ll move out, and then there’ll be room.”
She curled her lip, thinking to herself: according to the third’s plan, moving out just means running off with Zhou Xinping. Lin Jingwen and Dongle will still be stuck here, so what difference does it make?
It wasn’t just Li Anping’s family who couldn’t sleep—the neighbors were woken up by the racket in the middle of the night too.
The next morning, as Li Anping stepped out, Old Wang from next door called out to him: “Anping, you’d better hurry and bring Jingwen back from her parents’ place. Without her, your household is in complete chaos!”
“…You’re right, Uncle. She’ll be back in a couple of days.” Li Anping forced an awkward smile, tossed out the words, and quickly pedaled away on his bicycle.
Too humiliating!
No—he had to get Lin Jingwen back.
After waking up in the morning, Lin Jingwen began preparing breakfast. This time she made an egg pancake and a pot of porridge. She cooked enough for two people, planning to deliver one portion to Professor Qiu across the hall.
The night before, just before bed, Lin Jingwen had thought it over: three cents for a bowl of noodles, yet she had charged ten yuan. Holding that money felt scorching hot in her hands. So she decided that whenever she wasn’t on the early shift, she would make two servings of breakfast—one for herself, and one for Professor Qiu. It wasn’t any extra trouble. She figured he could treat it as though the ten yuan had bought him a month’s worth of breakfast from her.
By the time breakfast was ready, it was already eight o’clock. Normally, working people would have left by then.
But Lin Jingwen had been listening for the sound of the door across the hall and hadn’t heard it, so she assumed Professor Qiu hadn’t gone out yet.
University teachers didn’t need to clock in at eight sharp, especially professors. Lin Jingwen thought that was perfectly normal.
Carrying the breakfast, she knocked on his door. After a moment, Qiu Ze opened it, still looking drowsy from sleep.
“…I’m sorry, Professor Qiu, I disturbed you,” Lin Jingwen said apologetically, seeing how she had woken him.
“It’s fine, I should be getting up anyway.” Qiu Ze’s gaze fell on the breakfast in her hands, his eyes lighting up slightly. His voice was hoarse as he said, “Breakfast smells wonderful. Thank you for bringing it, Ms. Lin. Please wait a moment, I’ll pay you.”
He reached out to take the plate, intending to turn back inside for money.
“Wait! Mr. Qiu, really, you don’t need to pay again. Let me explain…”
Lin Jingwen quickly laid out her plan, then asked if it would be convenient for him. If he left early in the mornings, then she wouldn’t bother.
When she worked the early shift, she didn’t have breakfast herself. She was simply making breakfast for herself, and while at it, preparing an extra portion. She wouldn’t deliberately adjust to his schedule. If it fit, she’d bring it over. If not, then forget it.
“Alright, thank you. Normally, I leave for the university around nine o’clock. I get up at about eight.” Qiu Ze thought it over. Having a ready-made breakfast delivered to him—saving him the trouble of going out, and so delicious—there was no reason to refuse. So he told Lin Jingwen his routine.
Lin Jingwen nodded, taking note. Hearing him mention going to the university, she thought: so he really is Professor Qiu Ze. Her guess had been right.
Qiu Ze carried the plate back inside, transferred the food into his own dishes, and when he returned, he handed Lin Jingwen a gift box.
Lin Jingwen was stunned. So what was the meaning of bringing him breakfast like this? Was it just to squeeze more benefits out of Professor Qiu? Did he have some kind of treasure chest in his apartment—always filled with either gift boxes or cash? Because every time he ate her food, he either gave her ten yuan or handed her a gift.
Lin Jingwen thought: if she were just a little less ashamed, a little less conscientious, she could probably wring a year’s salary out of him in no time.
“Skincare products—you probably need them. I don’t. Keeping them here is useless.” Qiu Ze noticed her uneasy expression and explained calmly.
Lin Jingwen glanced at her own hands, ugly with chilblains, and suddenly laughed. She accepted the gift openly: “Mr. Qiu, you’re absolutely right. I couldn’t buy such good skincare even if I had the money at the mall. I really do need it, so I’ll accept it without hesitation. But this is indeed valuable—I can’t just take it for free. Let’s count it as covering two months of breakfast. Next time, please don’t give me another gift box. Holding it feels like holding fire.”
Qiu Ze found her words forthright and refreshing, direct and effortless. He smiled slightly: “Alright, I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you for the meal—your cooking is excellent.”
“Of course. I work in the kitchen of a state-run restaurant,” Lin Jingwen joked.
“If you have something special you’d like to eat, you can mention it. Since you’re paying more, you can get better treatment.”
“Then… soup dumplings?” Qiu Ze actually made a request.
But Lin Jingwen refused outright: “Soup dumplings won’t do. Too much trouble to make at home. If you want them, go eat at our restaurant.”
With that, she carried the plate and the skincare gift box back to her room.
Qiu Ze was left thinking: So much for VIP treatment—his very first request had already been rejected.