“Mom, Happy New Year!”
It was New Year’s Day at the Hua Xinguang Steel Factory No. 2 staff housing compound.
Liu Meiling squinted her wrinkled eyes and smiled: “Happy New Year… everything’s good.”
She reached into her chest and pulled out an old, faded handkerchief, pinching a corner with her rough fingers as she unfolded it.
She handed a five-yuan note to her eldest grandson.
Her eldest daughter-in-law, Zhan Hongmei, frowned, holding the eight-year-old child: “Quick, give Tai Nai Nai a New Year greeting! Tai Nai Nai is giving you money. Our Chenchen doesn’t like this color of money, right?”
Liu Meiling paused, then exchanged the note for a ten-yuan bill before handing it over.
Only then did the daughter-in-law show a hint of satisfaction.
After giving the eldest grandson his money, the second son’s family couldn’t be left out. One “Happy New Year, Tai Nai Nai!” after another, Liu Meiling’s handkerchief quickly became wrinkled again.
She smiled casually, putting the handkerchief away. Her clouded eyes reflected the busy kitchen, where three daughters-in-law and six granddaughters-in-law were cooking, while in the living room, three sons and six grandsons chatted and laughed.
Three little monkeys chased each other around with rattles.
A deep satisfaction rose in Liu Meiling’s heart.
She had worked her entire life—raising sons, marrying off daughters-in-law, buying houses, caring for grandchildren, even great-grandchildren at seventy-five—just for moments like this, when the family was happy together.
“Why are you standing there? Go make some tea!”
Old Li, puffing at his beard, glared at her, muttering that she had no sense. Liu Meiling didn’t get angry; she grabbed the thermos that her third son had gifted her and scooped a handful of tea leaves into hot water.
When she returned, the floor was covered in sunflower seed shells.
She patiently swept them up.
No sooner had she finished, there were orange peels and more seed shells scattered again.
Before she could finish, Zhan Hongmei started yelling: “Mom, come mix the dumpling filling!”
Every year, it was Liu Meiling who mixed the filling. She couldn’t refuse—Old Li only ate dumplings made this way. With a few swift shakes of the seasoning, she finished, and the daughters-in-law gathered around laughing and folding the dumplings.
“Mom, why isn’t the water hot yet? There’s no hot water!”
Liu Meiling replied and went to pour the hot water from the stove into the thermos.
No sooner had she finished than her daughter-in-law shouted again: “Mom, Chenchen wet his pants!”
Zhan Hongmei rolled her eyes: “Can’t you see I’m busy? Let the one who eats for free deal with it!”
Liu Meiling rubbed her hands, changed her great-grandson’s pants, and washed them by hand.
Back in the living room, Old Li had scattered more sunflower seeds. Liu Meiling looked at the clock—only 9:30 a.m.—and lunch wouldn’t come for another three hours.
Her gaze fell on the banana resting on the small coffee table. It was the New Year—would it be too much to eat just one?
As she broke off a piece, Old Li snatched it and ate it.
She hesitated, about to grab another, but her third son, Li Baohai, took all the bananas: “These are good stuff. Big Brother and Second Brother should eat one to fill their stomachs.”
Her stomach growled as she watched him hand out the bananas to everyone.
When it came to her, Chenchen raised his hand: “I want one too!”
Without hesitation, Li Baohai gave the last banana to Chenchen—never even glancing at her. Liu Meiling’s lips twitched, but she said nothing.
Soon, the children played and bit into the bananas, leaving half of one on the table. She brightened, picked it up, and popped it into her mouth.
Soft, sweet, and fragrant—the banana tasted amazing!
Chenchen, seeing her eat it, got mad and threw his toy at her:
“You useless thing! How dare you eat my banana? I’ll hit you!”
The toy car hit her head, scraping her skin and drawing blood down her face. Her head rang, and she fainted.
Zhan Hongmei came over, seeing half of the banana still in her mother’s mouth. She exploded: “Mom! How can you fight a child for food?”
“Exactly, Mom! You’re a grown woman, why fight over a bite? Look at how upset Chenchen is!”
The sons paid no attention.
Old Li snorted: “She was like this when she was young—never knew her place. Don’t worry about her!”
Tears filled Liu Meiling’s eyes. She hurriedly swallowed the banana to explain: “I wasn’t fighting with the child. The bananas were left on the table—I thought no one wanted them…”
Her third son chuckled: “Mom, who wouldn’t want something this precious?”
Even his wife supported him: “It’s fine, Mom. Just eat—why blame the kids?”
This only made Zhan Hongmei angrier: “Not enough you eat for free at home, now you steal from the kids? Don’t you have any shame?”
Tears streamed down Liu Meiling’s face.
How could they call her someone who ate for free?
She had a job in her youth, taken away by Old Li for his rural cousin. Since then, she had served the entire family tirelessly.
During the Reform and Opening years, she seized opportunities, ran a stall, bought houses for her three sons and married them off, and even gave the meat stall to her eldest son’s family.
She cared for grandchildren and great-grandchildren tirelessly.
How could they call her a freeloader?
“I’m not…” slap!
Old Li’s eyes flickered with guilt as he slapped her hard across the back: “What’s the commotion this New Year! Crying? Don’t you know it’s forbidden to cry on New Year? You’re bringing bad luck to our family!”
The slap was so strong Liu Meiling was thrown against the coffee table, blood gushing.
Her head rang, ears throbbed, and she passed out.
When she woke, it was the second day of the New Year. She was lying on her tiny eight-square-meter wooden bed, the blood on her forehead dried.
She heard her daughter, Li Baoqing, speaking nearby: “Mom, really… what are you fighting a child for! Dad, you did well! She deserved it…”
Her heart fell into an ice pit.
This daughter had always been her favorite—she had bought her a job, found a partner, given an 800-yuan dowry, and helped her through three postnatal periods.
She had never refused her any help.
Her body temperature dropped, consciousness fading. She was dying.
She knew clearly: her entire life spent serving her children had ended in a tragic death.
Did she deserve this?
They didn’t even bother giving her medicine.
Seven days later, her funeral was over.
She wanted to leave, but her soul was drawn to Old Li.
Over those seven days, she heard the children complaining about her death:
Worse insults went unspoken.
She could hardly believe these words came from her own children.
Half a month later, she saw with her own eyes her ungrateful children, taking bicycles to the home of Qin Xiangru at the Third Hospital to propose marriage.
Her eldest son, who had never shown any warmth to her, beamed at Qin Xiangru: “Mom, that old lady is finally dead! Now you can be with my dad!”
Within days, Old Li married Qin Xiangru in the compound, proudly hanging a banner:
“Separated like swallows for sixty years, a letter cannot express the longing of the heart.”