Chapter 85:

The twins had previously stayed at their second uncle’s place, so they didn’t feel uncomfortable moving in with their grandfather now. However, their carefree days didn’t last long—school started, and they had to attend classes.

When they arrived at school, their noticeably tanned skin drew many questions from classmates. The twins enthusiastically recounted their experiences at the military camp, growing prouder with each retelling. They declared they’d go back next year, leaving their awestruck peers—who could only imagine the glory but not the hardships—green with envy.

The tank and pistol they brought also became objects of admiration. Many kids went home and begged their parents for similar toys. Bullet casings were hard to come by, but wooden replicas were doable, giving carpenters a tidy profit. For the carpenters, crafting these wasn’t difficult—they didn’t need to be overly detailed; a rough resemblance was enough.

Not long after the twins started school, universities also reopened. Lin Tiandong arrived on campus, accompanied by Li Yujiao, who insisted on seeing him settled in. Lin Tiandong wasn’t thrilled—he was an adult now, having earned his place at university, and felt he could handle things himself. But Li Yujiao wouldn’t hear of it.

After registration and setting up his dorm, Li Yujiao and Lin Tiandong followed an address to find Lin Chuanbai. This was Li Yujiao’s first visit—normally, she wouldn’t drop by unannounced, but with her son studying here, having an older brother nearby was a safety net. For her son’s sake, she was willing to swallow her pride and extend an olive branch.

They eyed the bustling hotpot restaurant with curiosity—no wonder Yu Xiang’an had been so confident during the New Year; the place was clearly raking in profits.

The gate was locked, and as unfamiliar faces loitered outside, the dog inside began barking. Lin Tiandong called out, “Second Brother! Second Brother! Are you home? Anyone there?”

No response came, only louder barks.

Lin Tiandong turned to his mother, “The door’s locked, and no one’s answering. They must be out. Let’s come back another day.”

Li Yujiao frowned, “Another day? I have work to return to.”

Lin Tiandong sighed, “I told you I could handle this alone. I’m old enough.”

Li Yujiao shot him a look, “You’re still young, traveling alone with all your luggage—bedding, clothes, shoes. Could you have managed without me? I didn’t even want to bring so much.”

“It’s fine,” he muttered. “Home isn’t that far. If I need anything, I can go back on weekends.” Worse came to worst, he had money—he could always buy what he needed. There was no reason to haul all his winter gear at once.

Hearing the incessant barking, Wei Funi approached, “Who are you looking for?”

“Is this Lin Chuanbai’s home?”

“Yes. And you are…?” Wei Funi knew her employers were out. She studied the unfamiliar faces.

Li Yujiao gestured to Lin Tiandong, “This is his younger brother. He just got into university—first time here.”

“Oh! Congratulations! That’s wonderful news!”

Li Yujiao couldn’t help smiling, “Yes, it is.”

“Which university?”

“Qingmu University.”

“Ah, the same as our boss! A fine school.”

“Indeed.”

“You can wait here if you’d like. They’re out, but they’ll definitely be back by afternoon. Would you like to stay or…?”

Li Yujiao chose to wait. Since they hadn’t eaten, they settled in a private dining room, ordering food to pass the time.

Meanwhile, Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai were at Yu Xiangyan’s place. A colleague of Yu Xiangyan’s had connections at a farm and brought over twenty-some pounds of venison, asking if they wanted any. Yu Xiangyan bought a few pounds—venison was a rare treat—and invited Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai over.

Over the meal, Yu Xiangyan asked if the food court was still hiring. Yu Xiang’an had recently hired several employees under the company’s name—cleaners and two security guards, both veterans introduced by Zhao Li. One had lost a few fingers, the other walked with a slight limp, but neither impairment hindered their ability to handle petty thieves.

The food court’s lottery promotion had drawn massive crowds. Customers who spent at least fifty cents at any shop received a stamped ticket for a prize draw. Prizes ranged from discount coupons to small trinkets, with one grand prize—a wristwatch—still up for grabs.

Yu Xiang’an explained, “Most people win coupons—like ten cents off a fifty-cent meal at the hotpot place, or five cents off thirty cents at Wuwei Restaurant. The more you spend, the more you save. The small prizes are cheap, and the big one’s still there—keeps the buzz going.”

Yu Xiangyan worried, “Aren’t you losing money with this giveaway?”

Yu Xiang’an waved it off, “The discounts bring in more business. It evens out.”

Yu Xiang’an had afternoon commitments, so after lunch, she and Lin Chuanbai returned home, surprised to find Li Yujiao and Lin Tiandong waiting.

“Why didn’t you call ahead? We wouldn’t have gone out,” Lin Chuanbai said.

Li Yujiao explained, “We planned to come tomorrow, but I had work conflicts, so we came early.”

Lin Chuanbai took them home while Yu Xiang’an headed to the food court to help Qi Xiaohui, who was swamped with the lottery draws.

Lin Tiandong realized the bustling food court they’d passed earlier was also Yu Xiang’an’s venture—impressive. Li Yujiao, too, was struck by the scale of it. Hearing about success was one thing; seeing the crowds and prosperity was another.

Lin Chuanbai hosted them, and Li Yujiao brought gifts.

“When does school start?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

“Staying here or at the dorm until then?”

Lin Tiandong preferred staying here—his dormmates hadn’t arrived yet.

Lin Chuanbai nodded, “Then stay here.”

Li Yujiao thanked him, “We appreciate it.”

Staying here was more convenient and set a precedent—if her son ever needed help, it’d be easier to ask. She knew university cafeterias were mediocre; having access to home-cooked meals was a luxury.

She wasn’t close to her stepson—the age gap saw to that—but her son was his blood brother. Occasional visits for meals were natural.

Lin Chuanbai understood her intentions but doubted Lin Tiandong would overstay.

Li Yujiao left satisfied.

Lin Tiandong settled into the guest room, which was fully furnished.

Yan Jin arrived later, hauling his luggage alone. He came on the last day of registration and showed up at Lin Chuanbai’s place while Lin Tiandong was still there, planning to leave for school after dinner.

The two young men froze when Lin Chuanbai introduced them.

Yan Jin quietly set down his bags, “These are from my mother—for Yining and Yihong.”

Lin Yining took hers—much larger than her brother’s. “What did Grandma give me? It’s so heavy!”

Yan Jin said, “Open it. There’s a letter inside—remember to reply. I haven’t finished unpacking at school. I’ll visit another time.”

The awkwardness wasn’t one-sided.

After he left, Lin Tiandong forced a laugh, “I should head to school too. Which university did he get into?”

Lin Chuanbai smirked, “Capital University.”

Lin Tiandong winced, “Oh.”

Not far at all.

If his mother ever visited and ran into Yan Jin’s mother… the thought was unbearable.

With both uncles back at school, Lin Yining eagerly opened her grandmother’s package, reading the letter first before examining the gifts.

Perhaps because of their letters about military training, Wu Zheng had sent military-themed items—uniforms, canteens, even a medal.

Lin Chuanbai examined it carefully before handing it back, “This is your grandmother’s service medal. It’s an honor. Keep it safe.”

Lin Yining treasured it, storing it in a locked box.

Lin Yihong sulked—his grandmother had only sent gifts to his sister.

Lin Chuanbai consoled him, “Your parents didn’t get anything either. At least you got something—I only got two lines in the letter.”

The letter mentioned Wu Zheng using part of the century-old ginseng to save someone.

Yu Xiang’an added, “Think about it—Grandpa and Great-Grandpa favor you. Now Grandma favors your sister. Fair’s fair.”

Lin Yihong conceded—his sister only had one person’s favor, while he had two.

As for Grandpa, he treated them equally.

After the awkward encounter, neither Yan Jin nor Lin Tiandong visited Lin Chuanbai’s place again, avoiding potential run-ins.

Lin Chuanbai didn’t mind—less hassle. Still, he occasionally sent them home-cooked meals via the twins, ensuring neither felt left out.

Aside from that, both thrived at university. Once things settled, Yu Xiang’an and Yu Qingshan headed south.

Shortly after, Liu Mingyue also traveled south for a business trip to the special economic zone. Between work, she and Yu Xiang’an explored, shopped, and networked. Liu Mingyue introduced Yu Xiang’an to new contacts, expanding her circle—a gesture Yu Xiang’an deeply appreciated.

When Liu Mingyue returned, Yu Xiang’an gifted her a modestly priced perfume—anything more extravagant would’ve felt transactional. They agreed to share good wine when Liu Mingyue next visited the capital.

Yu Xiang’an returned to the capital two months later—partly to honor that promise, partly for Lin Guangbai’s arrival.

He came to the capital from the development zone.

As for his purpose, Yu Xiang’an had some guesses. The development zone—it wasn’t hard to imagine.

Lin Guangbai was indeed here to learn. He had even made a special trip to the special economic zone, traveling with other officials on a business trip. Seeing the current state of the zone and comparing it to what it had been before being designated as a special zone, who wouldn’t be moved?

He, too, wanted to achieve something tangible.

Yancheng, now selected as a development zone, wasn’t coastal, but its location was still advantageous. This was a pilot project. If successful, the development zone would solidify its foundation.

He pulled out a map, explaining the geographical advantages of the area and mentioning its local specialties.

He wanted to gather more information about the special zone, and Yu Xiang’an shared everything she knew. However, if the purpose was to attract investment, Yu Xiang’an: “…”

Her business wasn’t fully established yet. Expanding elsewhere would have to wait a few more years.

Fortunately, Lin Guangbai wasn’t thinking along those lines. In his view, his sister-in-law’s business was still small-scale. His main focus was on attracting overseas Chinese investors.

Yu Xiangyan could contribute to this conversation—he worked in the foreign trade department.

Lin Guangbai also sought out Wu Zhusheng, Yu Xiang’an’s university advisor. Beyond official matters, he and Lin Chuanbai, whom he hadn’t seen in a long time, had some private discussions.

He met Lin Tiandong and Yan Jin briefly—just to exchange a few words and recognize them, avoiding any awkward encounters in the future.

His smooth progress wasn’t solely due to his own capabilities. Lin Houpu, though not in Shanghai, had many comrades there who looked out for him, ensuring he avoided unnecessary conflicts. His wife’s family also had local influence, further smoothing his path.

Lin Guangbai wouldn’t refuse Lin Houpu’s political resources, especially since Lin Houpu was on the verge of a promotion. He wouldn’t remain as factory director—that would create a monopoly. Instead, he’d be transferred, and given his achievements, a promotion was certain.

With the current system where government and enterprises weren’t entirely separate—especially in a machinery factory—and given his relatively young age, he might even climb another rank before retirement.

Even if Lin Houpu didn’t openly favor Lin Guangbai, the existing support made his journey much smoother.

But Lin Houpu’s resources were finite, and he had more than one son.

Given the circumstances, his younger son might also enter the system. Who would he prioritize then?

Lin Chuanbai: “Elder brother, even if he favors the younger one, the age gap is significant. By the time he retires, how much could the younger one achieve? Besides, you’re the eldest son. Grandfather values the eldest grandson. As long as you stay steady and avoid missteps, there’s no need to worry too much.”

Lin Guangbai understood this, but the influence of ‘pillow talk’ was unpredictable. He had to remain cautious.

Nodding, he changed the subject. “What are your plans? You’re not young anymore. Do you intend to stay in academia and research?”

Lin Chuanbai shared his plans: “I’m thinking of moving south this year or next—not to the special zone, but to Yangcheng. There are universities there, and it would shorten the distance between me and my wife.” The universities there also had labs. With some time and effort, he could eventually establish his own independent lab.

He had some research results ready for commercialization, but given the current climate, ownership disputes were likely. Even with prior agreements, things could get messy, so he’d hold off for now.

Lin Guangbai was surprised. “Yangcheng? But this is the capital.”

Lin Chuanbai: “It doesn’t mean I’ll never return.”

Lin Guangbai sighed. Just as they’d grown closer, his brother was planning to move even farther away.

—

A few days after returning south, Yu Xiang’an was pulled aside by Yu Qingshan for a trip back to Baishi County. “Your grandmother is sick. She’s in the hospital. We need to go.”

Yu Xiang’an panicked. “How serious? What happened?” Minor illnesses didn’t warrant hospitalization.

“She was knocked over by a child while walking downhill. She fell and broke her leg. She’s at the city hospital now.”

Lin Yunling, Lin Chuanbai’s eldest sister, worked at that hospital.

At the reception desk, they asked for the ward number. When they arrived, they saw Yao Cuifen in a hospital gown, an IV in her arm, her left leg in a cast after surgery.

Seeing her frail, white-haired grandmother lying pale on the bed, Yu Xiang’an’s eyes stung. “Grandma, how are you feeling? Any discomfort?”

Yao Cuifen forced a weak smile. “Xiao An, you didn’t have to come. I’m fine.”

Qin Qiang, standing nearby, explained, “She got medical attention quickly, and the surgery went well. The doctor says she just needs rest.”

Relieved, Yu Xiang’an and Yu Qingshan relaxed.

Besides Qin Qiang, Qin Fengmao (the second uncle) and Qin Chengsong (the cousin) were also there. It was the cousin who had called them.

Yu Qingshan: “Who’s staying overnight? Has Xianghai come?”

Qin Qiang: “I’m staying. I rented a place nearby. Your second brother is here today; your second sister-in-law will come tomorrow. Xianghai visited the day before yesterday and said he’d come again today. He should be on his way.”

Yao Cuifen was in a double room. The other patient, an older but slightly younger woman, watched enviously as the family gathered around Yao Cuifen’s bed.

“Sister, you’re blessed. Your children are so filial. If I had even half of what you have, I could die happy.”

Yao Cuifen knew her story—she’d been hospitalized earlier but only had her husband bringing meals at night and an occasional visit from a daughter. For meals, she relied on doctors and nurses.

The woman lamented, “I have two sons and two daughters. I gave everything for my sons’ weddings, and my daughters weren’t neglected either. I even gave my job to my sons. But now that I’m sick, my sons are nowhere to be seen, and my daughters-in-law are worse. Only my eldest daughter shows any kindness, bringing me food. If not for my pension, I might not even get a warm meal. Sister, how did my life turn out like this?”

There was no easy answer. If her children were truly unfilial, she could report them to their workplaces—but would she?

Her job had gone to her sons, but which one?

Discontent arises not from scarcity but from inequality.

As if on cue, the door burst open. Her youngest daughter and daughter-in-law stormed in, shouting:

“Enough of your nonsense! You just love dragging our names through the mud, don’t you?”

“You old hag, still running your mouth even now? Let’s settle this today—”

Yu Xiang’an frowned at the commotion and asked if a private room was available.

There was—just more expensive. Without hesitation, she paid.

With such a scene next door, rest was impossible.

Qin Fengmao followed her out, trying to stop her from paying.

Yu Xiang’an: “Uncle, you’ll be visiting Grandma often. I live far away and am busy—I can’t be here as much. She’s my grandmother too. Let me contribute a little. You’re handling the bulk of it anyway. Don’t deny me this small act of filial piety.”

Qin Fengmao had no rebuttal, smiling helplessly. “Fine, fine. I know you’re filial.”

“Uncle, what about the kids who pushed Grandma?” She hadn’t asked earlier.

Qin Fengmao’s expression darkened. “Three kids were playing soccer on that slope. They saw her coming but didn’t stop. When she fell, they ran. If not for a passerby, who knows what might’ve happened? They’re repeat offenders—a pregnant woman fell there recently, luckily unharmed. Now that Grandma’s hurt, their parents refuse to take responsibility. I’ve reported it to the police. We came here partly for the better doctors, but also to avoid those shameless people causing a scene in the ward and disturbing Grandma’s recovery.”