Chapter 13: Discussing Countermeasures

After the whole family finished dinner, Zhang Guoqing felt completely exhausted, his body barely able to hold up anymore. He told everyone he was heading back to his room, and finally lay down next to Zhou Jiao, where he could sleep peacefully at last.

Zhou Jiao was woken by the baby’s cries. Still groggy, she glanced around the unfamiliar room, and it took her a while to remember that they had traveled through time, and that she’d given birth to a son. She looked at Zhang Guoqing lying to her right and smiled.

Mother Zhang, holding the baby, saw Zhou Jiao wake up. “Jiao, don’t move, just lie down for now. I’ll put the baby next to you. Let Xiao Wu sleep—his head injury hasn’t healed yet, and he’s been out in the cold all day. I’ll go get you something to eat. Tonight, I’ll take care of you and the baby. Just the two of us women will be enough.”

Zhou Jiao was delighted to hear Mother Zhang’s words, which were full of warmth and affection. Thinking back to her memories of Mother Zhang, Zhou Jiao truly regarded her as her own mother.

Mother Zhang was always partial to her youngest son. Normally, she’d have let him sleep in the main room for comfort. But since Zhou Jiao had just given birth and Zhang Guoqing would have to go to her family’s home early the next morning to deliver the good news, she had no choice but to arrange for the two women to care for the baby. Seeing that even all the commotion hadn’t woken him, she silently cursed the troublemakers from Lin Village, forgetting that those guys hadn’t fared well either—each left battered and bruised, with two even suffering broken bones and now detained by the militia.

Zhou Jiao chuckled softly, “Mom, we’re so lucky to have you. Otherwise, neither of us would know how to take care of the baby. Look at how tiny he is—we don’t even dare to hold him. Mom, look at this little thing, all red like a monkey. He’s so funny-looking—do you think he’ll ever find a wife when he grows up?”

Mother Zhang pretended to give Zhou Jiao a playful slap on the arm and laughed. “You silly girl! Babies grow fast once they’re born. This little guy weighed over six jin at birth—he’s sturdy and will be handsome. Don’t worry. Tomorrow, when Xiao Wu goes to your family’s place to announce the good news, does he need to bring any message?”

Hearing Mother Zhang mention her family, Zhou Jiao was momentarily at a loss and hurriedly searched her memories.

Her original identity was a bit awkward. How to put it—she’d grown up with her grandmother since she was little, as her father had died in battle shortly after she was born.

Her grandmother was the only daughter of an imperial physician’s family in Beijing, born into wealth and raised without ever having to lift a finger. She’d been engaged since childhood to a well-matched, reputable scholarly family. But on her wedding day, before she could even consummate the marriage, the Japanese accused her husband’s family of harboring underground Communists, arrested all the men, and massacred the entire household.

Her grandmother and her loyal maid managed to escape in the chaos, disguised themselves, and fled back to her family home. But her parents, fearing implication and with Beijing in turmoil, quickly gathered their valuables and, along with the housekeeper and maid, fled south to a rural estate, living incognito and relying on family medical skills and what little wealth they had to survive.

Three years later, her great-grandparents passed away, leaving only the housekeeper and maid, and life became increasingly difficult. By chance, her grandmother reunited with her childhood sweetheart—Zhou Jiao’s grandfather—who had been the only survivor of the massacre, rescued by the underground resistance. When he returned to find his family, everyone was gone and even their city home was abandoned. Seeking revenge, he joined the army.

The couple then followed the army, leaving the housekeeper to retire locally and the maid to marry. With no other attachments, they fought on the front lines until the Japanese were finally driven out and the country liberated. They refused to remain in the military, and returned with their children to their ancestral home in Zhoujia Village in the Northeast.

Zhou Jiao’s grandfather always hoped that any surviving relatives would return home to pay respects after the country’s liberation. With their military pensions, the couple settled down.

Later, their youngest son—Zhou Jiao’s father—secretly enlisted in the army, where he met and fell in love with Zhou Jiao’s mother, Lin Lishan, a performing artist in the military. They married, and two years later, Zhou Jiao was born. Not long after, her father, without telling her mother (who was still in confinement after childbirth), left a letter and joined Lin Lishan’s eldest brother on a secret mission. Both died in action, leaving not even their bodies behind. Lin Lishan was devastated and unable to care for her newborn daughter, so Zhou Jiao’s grandparents took her in.

Lin Lishan never remarried, always saying, “If dead, I want to see the body; if alive, I want to see the person.” She believed they were still out there somewhere and would return one day, refusing to accept reality. For reasons unknown, apart from sending annual child support, she never came back, not even for Zhou Jiao’s wedding.

In Zhou Jiao’s memories, she’d only seen her mother in photos. She heard that her mother was still single, turning down many suitors. Her grandparents always comforted her, saying her mother loved her but just couldn’t accept her father’s death and needed time. But deep down, Zhou Jiao still resented her mother.

As a child, her playmates could act spoiled with their mothers, but aside from her grandparents’ affection, Zhou Jiao had to watch out for her aunt’s attitude. Her aunt, Chen Zhaodi, enjoyed the money and goods sent by the Lin family, but secretly resented and envied her widowed sister-in-law. Lin Lishan’s high status and beauty made her both self-conscious and arrogant, and when the grandparents weren’t looking, she would help her own children bully Zhou Jiao. Anything sent from Zhou Jiao’s mother would be given to her cousin first, and the child support money was used for the whole family.

When Zhou Jiao turned ten and understood more about the world, she asked to find her mother. The only time she called, her mother coldly said she was too busy touring to see her, and told her to stay home and be filial to her grandparents. Zhou Jiao, in tears, was heartbroken. From then on, she never mentioned her mother again, leaving her letters unopened and unanswered, as if that would keep the longing at bay.

Zhoujia Village and Zhangjia Village were neighboring villages separated by a river, connected by a stone bridge. Zhoujia Village was closer to the mountains. Zhou Jiao’s grandfather was a respected revolutionary veteran, and her grandmother had been a military doctor in her youth. The couple was well respected locally.

Zhou Jiao, the beauty of the Zhou family, was well known. Her maternal grandparents were both military officers, her uncles too, and her mother was also in the military. In those days, being in the military was highly regarded. Apart from factory workers, soldiers had their food, clothing, and housing provided by the state, received monthly wages and ration coupons, and had priority at supply stores.

Except for her father’s untimely death, no one knew that since Zhou Jiao could remember, aside from receiving clothes and money from her maternal grandparents, she’d never seen them. They claimed to love her, but never took her in.

Occasionally, she’d overhear her aunt mutter things like, “Her uncle died with Zhang’s father, her second uncle is stationed elsewhere, her grandfather is so important he can’t visit old comrades, and her grandmother is sick again. That sister-in-law is really strange—so beautiful, but won’t remarry or raise her daughter, just leaves her behind. Yes, just leaves her.”"