Chapter 160: Chapter 160: The Pastry Business

“It’s not tiring at all, I’m used to it. When I was young, my family ran a shop, and I used to help my father make several hundred jin of pastries every day.”

She originally just wanted to say that she wasn’t tired from the work, but after speaking, she worried she might be coming across as annoying, so she stopped herself.

Gu Qinghuan could see her unease.

“Really? That’s amazing! I’m hopeless at making pastries—my hands just don’t cooperate, and what I make never turns out the way I imagine. But yours are wonderful—so pretty and delicious, even better than the ones sold at the department store counters.

I’d like to order some as gifts, and if I need more in the future, I’ll definitely come to you again.”

The moment Xia Lian started talking about her craft, her eyes lit up and she instantly became much more confident.

“My skills have been passed down through several generations in my family. It’s a pity my father didn’t have a son, and then a lot happened at home, so we took down the sign and stopped doing business.

Now, ordinary people aren’t even allowed to run their own businesses, so I can only secretly make some to sell to old customers. Everyone who’s tried them says they’re great.

If you’re interested in learning, I can teach you when you have time.” Xia Lian was gentle, like a well-bred young lady from the old days—her words were refined, but she made people feel at ease.

Gu Qinghuan couldn’t help but slow her own speech as well.

“Oh, I couldn’t! You’ve been honing your craft for decades—there’s no way I could learn it all.

But don’t worry, life will only get better. Even if your father didn’t have a son, he still has you, his daughter, right? Who knows, maybe one day you’ll be able to hang up your sign again.”

“Really? Then I’ll take your good wishes! I really do hope for that day. When my father passed, he was still thinking about our family’s sign.”

After chatting for a while, Gu Qinghuan took out the money she’d prepared in advance.

“This is the price I agreed on with Uncle Xu. Please count it.”

Xia Lian waved her hands. “No, I already took your deposit. That’s enough to cover the cost of ingredients. You keep the rest.”

“That won’t do—we already agreed on the price. This is a lot of pastries, not just one or two. You have to take it, or I won’t take the pastries.” Gu Qinghuan pretended to be upset and stuffed the money into her arms.

“Xiao Gu, I really shouldn’t take your money. Back when Old Xu’s family was struggling, it was thanks to your family’s help that we got by. Making some pastries is nothing—I’m just putting in a bit of effort.” Xia Lian said sincerely.

Gu Qinghuan thought to herself, Xu Lei and his wife really are good, honest people.

And precisely because they’re honest, she couldn’t take advantage of them.

Besides, she’d ordered these pastries in the first place to help them out, to ease their financial burden. If she didn’t pay, what would be the point?

“Auntie, please don’t refuse. We’ll be seeing each other often in the future, and this won’t be the last time I order from you. Even between family, accounts should be clear, right?” Gu Qinghuan tried to persuade her earnestly.

Xia Lian wavered.

“Well… this is still a bit much. How about I take half? Here, take the rest back.” Xia Lian separated out half and handed it back.

Gu Qinghuan pushed it back. “Did you eat before coming over so early? I just made some steamed buns—come eat with us.”

It just so happened that it was almost mealtime.

Gu Lanting had already peeked into the kitchen at her several times, asking with his eyes when breakfast would be ready.

“Lanting, set the table for breakfast. Dabao, Beibei, and Youran, go help your uncle! And don’t forget to call Aunt Ruxue!” These days, Ming Ruxue was practically a regular at their table.

The kids, who had been reading comic books on the sofa, immediately dashed into the kitchen when they heard.

Those comic books were Gu Lanting’s treasured collection from before. When he left the Gu family, he only brought some basic necessities and a few books.

The three kids loved listening to Gu Lanting tell stories from the comics.

Even Youran was completely absorbed.

Soon, breakfast was served.

Xia Lian had no choice but to accept the money and join Gu Qinghuan and the others for breakfast.

Zhong Luoning couldn’t eat much of this, so Gu Qinghuan had already made her a separate bowl of millet porridge.

Her stomach needed time to recover, but lately, with a daily cup of spiritual spring water and some herbal remedies, she’d improved a lot. Before, even millet porridge made her nauseous, but now she could finish a whole bowl.

She needed rest these days, so Gu Qinghuan wouldn’t let her go downstairs, and brought her a pile of books to read in her room. Reading helped take her mind off her worries.

Back to the main point—Gu Qinghuan’s steamed buns were truly delicious, mainly because she used plenty of filling. The meat was finely chopped with a good balance of fat and lean, juicy and flavorful—how could it not be tasty?

Gu Lanting ate five or six in one go with his millet porridge. For someone so small, he sure had an appetite, and he’d visibly grown stronger lately.

Ming Ruxue also managed to stuff down four big meat buns, her stomach round and full.

“Jie, if I keep eating at your place for another month, I’ll gain at least twenty jin!”

Each of the three kids ate two buns and half a bowl of porridge.

As a guest, Xia Lian was too embarrassed to eat too many of the precious meat buns.

She had half a bowl of porridge and one bun, but Gu Qinghuan insisted on giving her another, which she finally ate.

When Xia Lian was about to leave, Gu Qinghuan wrapped up the remaining five big meat buns in oil paper for her to take home.

Xia Lian couldn’t refuse and gratefully accepted.

After Xia Lian left, Gu Lanting asked who the pastries were for.

Gu Qinghuan just said, “It’s a secret.”

She pretended to take the pastries out in batches, but actually, she put them all into her space.

That’s right—her vending machine hadn’t been stocked in a while, and she planned to put these authentic old Beijing pastries up for sale.

She’d just keep a few for the family to eat.

These pastries didn’t have preservatives and wouldn’t keep long, so she had to sell them quickly.

Xia Lian’s pastries were delicious and authentic—she’d tasted them before when Xu Lei brought some over.

This time, there was even more variety.

Xia Lian had explained when she delivered them: the main ones were the “Beijing Eight”—Fu character cake, Lu character cake, Shou character cake, Xi character cake, Taishi cake, Pepper-salt cake, Jujube flower cake, and Sachima.

Since Xu Lei had told her they were for gifting, she’d made complete sets of the Beijing Eight, making them look even more presentable—she really put her heart into it.

Besides the Beijing Eight, there were also things like Rolling Donkey (glutinous rice rolls), Pea Cake, Ox-tongue Pastry, Hawthorn Flatbread, Qizi Steamed Bun, Ai Wowo, and more.

There were so many varieties—it was hard to imagine how she managed all this alone.

Each set of the Beijing Eight weighed about a jin, and there were fifty sets—so fifty jin.

The other assorted pastries added up to over fifty jin, making about a hundred jin in total.

Gu Qinghuan paid her by weight, at a flat rate of two yuan per jin—so for a hundred jin, she paid two hundred yuan.

At the market, prices for each type of pastry varied, but most ranged from one to two yuan each.

Gu Qinghuan paid the highest price, since she wanted to help them out and repay Xu Lei for his help recently.

Plus, she could still make a profit selling these pastries, so it was a win-win.

In modern times, pastries are sold by the piece.

A set of Beijing Eight, packed in a nice box, could easily sell for ninety-nine yuan in the future.

She wouldn’t sell them that high—her cost was two yuan per set, so she’d sell them for four yuan each.

As for the other pastries, she’d sell them by the piece—thirty cents each.

Gu Qinghuan ordered a batch of packaging boxes for the Beijing Eight from her vending machine, packed up all fifty sets, and put them up for sale.

The rest were sold by the piece.

According to the vending machine’s estimate, if she sold all the pastries, she’d make about three hundred and twenty yuan.

So, after paying Xia Lian, she’d net one hundred and twenty yuan.

Even a little profit is still profit—she’d been spending nonstop lately, and it had been a while since any money came in.

This was a good business—she could help Xia Lian earn more, and make some profit herself.

If sales went well, she could order another batch in a few days.

On her way home, Xia Lian did some quick math. Xu Lei had brought back a fifty-yuan deposit earlier, and today she got another one hundred and fifty, for a total of two hundred yuan from Gu Qinghuan.

She’d spent about sixty or seventy yuan on ingredients, and the rest was pure labor—not much effort, really.

So, after two or three days of work, she’d earned over one hundred and thirty yuan.

That was more than her husband’s salary for nearly three months!

Xia Lian couldn’t help but smile, feeling great.

Normally, when she took orders from regular customers, no one was as generous as Gu Qinghuan. Most people just wanted to haggle for a lower price, and even though her pastries were good, they wanted them cheap.

Some customers even tried to drive the price down so much that she barely made any profit.

In the past, earning a few or ten yuan a month was already good—now she’d made over a hundred in just two days.

She was glad she’d never cut corners, even when she wasn’t sure she’d get paid. She’d always made every pastry with care, and now she could accept this money with a clear conscience.

As soon as Gu Qinghuan put the pastries up for sale, sharp-eyed customers noticed.

Many people had set notifications, so as soon as the pastries were listed, they saw them.

Old customers who’d bought from her before didn’t hesitate—they placed orders immediately, afraid they’d miss out.

Even though they didn’t know why she was suddenly selling pastries instead of farm products, they trusted her quality.

Someone even snapped up ten sets of the Beijing Eight at once.

Others were still picking out pastries one by one, only to find everything sold out and regret not acting faster.

In short, the whole batch sold out in a flash, and she received three hundred and twenty yuan.

These pastries didn’t have the spiritual spring bonus, but they were authentic in flavor, made with carefully selected ingredients, using traditional methods and handmade molds—they had a unique charm.

Everyone who bought them felt they were worth it.

The person who bought ten boxes even posted a video showing them off on Douyin.

There was no way they could finish them all.

Some people even messaged him, hoping to buy his leftovers at a high price.

A master pastry chef tried them and was amazed.

He said this shop was a real treasure—the Beijing Eight tasted exactly like the old-style ones his grandmother used to talk about.

It was as if a century-old craft had been revived, and eating them felt like a conversation across time.

He was right.

His son even convinced him to make a video titled: “A Century-Old Craft—Pastries That Transcend Time.”

He compared the Beijing Eight from Gu Qinghuan’s shop with those sold on the market, and everyone saw that hers were truly top-quality, handmade with no sign of mass production—real, honest pastries.

Everyone who tasted them said they were delicious—even people who didn’t like sweets could eat two pieces.

And so, Gu Qinghuan’s little shop went viral once again. Many people started camping out online, just to be the first to grab her goods when they were restocked."

"Chapter 161: Cooperation, The Blooming of the Demon-Banishing Flower, and the Disappearance of the Little Sable

When Xu Lei got home that evening, he found out that Gu Qinghuan had given his wife 150 yuan. He’d originally thought charging them 100 yuan in total was already enough, so he was surprised to find they’d received an extra hundred.

That very night, he rode his bike over to the apartment building.

“Big niece, didn’t we agree on 100 yuan? Why did you give us 200?” The money felt like it was burning a hole in his hand—he didn’t dare accept it.

He might not make a lot of money, but his family was doing fine. He knew very well what money he should or shouldn’t take.

Gu Qinghuan couldn’t help but smile to herself. These two really were a perfect match—both so honest and decent.

“Uncle Xu, I checked at the department store. Their pastries are all over one or two yuan per jin, and the Beijing Eight Delicacies start at two yuan. If I only gave you one yuan per jin, wouldn’t you be losing out?”

“That’s because those go through a few middlemen, so there’s a markup. The department store makes big money. We’re making these ourselves, so we only have to pay for the ingredients. It’s not much trouble—your aunt made them in two days. She only spent about seventy yuan on ingredients. If you give us a hundred, we still make over thirty yuan. That’s already very good.” Xu Lei didn’t treat her like an outsider at all, even telling her the cost.

Gu Qinghuan smiled helplessly. Why was it so hard to give money away?

“Uncle Xu, let me put it this way: I’m not buying these pastries to give as gifts. I have a friend in the business, you know what I mean? I give the pastries to him to sell. We both make money—it’s a win-win. Since I’m offering you this price, you can be sure I’ll still make a profit. So please, don’t refuse. And with the New Year coming up, have Auntie make more and send them over. Let’s all make some money together!”

Of course, this “friend” was just someone Gu Qinghuan made up—she was the only middleman.

She said this to put Xu Lei at ease about accepting the money, and she trusted his character enough to be honest.

Xu Lei more or less understood. Privately, he figured Gu Qinghuan’s friend must be someone from the black market.

People talked about the crackdown every day, but he himself sometimes quietly went to the black market to buy things—otherwise, the rationed food wasn’t enough.

So he didn’t think it was a big deal, just worried that if they got caught, it might get Gu Qinghuan in trouble.

“Big niece, let me ask—can you trust that friend? I don’t want you getting caught up in anything.”

“Don’t worry, Uncle Xu. I don’t handle the selling, just the supply. Whether he makes a lot or a little is his business. Even if he gets caught, it won’t come back to me,” Gu Qinghuan said seriously.

Only then did Xu Lei breathe a sigh of relief. “Good! I trust you. Let’s do this together. With the New Year coming, it’d be nice to make a bit more and have a good holiday.”

“Exactly! Don’t worry, I’ll take as much as you can make. But you have to make sure Auntie knows—quality can’t drop, and you have to use good ingredients. In fact, why don’t you get the ingredients directly from me? I don’t need ration tickets for my supplies—it’s easier and more convenient. Have Auntie make a list, and I’ll have Lanting bring them over.”

She could order directly from the vending machine—everything was cleaned and ready, high quality, and no ration tickets needed.

“That’s great! Your aunt’s always worried about using up all our ration tickets on pastries. We make money, but sometimes we don’t even have tickets left for daily needs.” Xu Lei nodded in agreement.

“But if you’re supplying the ingredients, the price will have to change. How about this: no matter what we make, we’ll just charge one yuan per jin as a processing fee. If we make a hundred jin, we earn a hundred yuan—easy to calculate. How’s that?”

Compared to today’s profit on a hundred jin of pastries, he was already cutting his own margin.

Gu Qinghuan didn’t stand on ceremony and agreed.

“Deal!”

“Oh, by the way, big niece, are you not going back to the Northeast for New Year’s this year?” Xu Lei asked curiously.

Gu Qinghuan was actually thinking about this. She should’ve gone back long ago, but various things had delayed her, and now Xu Huaian still hadn’t returned. She was worried, so she’d put the trip on hold.

Traveling back to the Northeast alone with two kids was a challenge.

Leaving Lanting here alone for the New Year didn’t feel right either. Even though Ming Ruxue was around, they were both just kids.

She couldn’t let go of the people back in Xujiatun either—she was torn between both sides.

“I’ll wait a bit longer, until Huaian comes back.”

Once they’d settled the pastry business, Xu Lei got ready to leave. Gu Qinghuan gave him a jar of her homemade pickled radish.

She had too many pickles at home and had already given some to Xiao Fengying and Ou Sumei, but there was still plenty left.

Plus, the vegetables she’d grown in her space had been harvested and stored away.

Speaking of which, she’d discovered a bug: the vending machine’s transfer station was basically a natural refrigerator. She’d been worried that the harvested vegetables would rot if they weren’t eaten in time—her fridge was already full and couldn’t hold everything.

Then she remembered that the vending machine’s transfer station seemed to have a preservation function. She tried weighing the vegetables and putting them in the transfer station. As long as she didn’t list them for sale, they could stay there indefinitely, and she could take them out whenever she wanted. Super convenient.

Wasn’t this just a bottomless, giant fridge?

She split the vegetables into two groups: one for her family to eat, and the rest—planted by Xu Huaian—were for the animals in her space.

Gu Qinghuan stored them accordingly.

Since Xu Huaian left, she’d had to manage the ranch herself: collecting wild chicken eggs, dove eggs, and flying dragon eggs every day.

She’d learned from Xu Huaian to use a strong flashlight to check which eggs could be incubated and put them back in the nests.

The earliest eggs had already hatched into chicks, little flying dragons, and baby doves. There were dozens of wild chicks, quite a few doves, and about a dozen flying dragons.

With this endless cycle of eggs and hatchlings, it wouldn’t be long before she had all the wild chickens and flying dragons she could want.

The leftover eggs—apart from what her family ate—had piled up to several hundred. Gu Qinghuan simply listed them all for sale.

This caused another stir online, with everyone speculating about her identity.

The rabbits were breeding quickly too. She’d already had several litters, and a few of the rabbits looked suspiciously pregnant again.

Speaking of rabbits, the one she’d given the three kids was being kept in a corner of the courtyard. The kids’ first task every morning was to feed them carrots, wilted leaves, and water.

They even cleaned up after the rabbits themselves, never giving Gu Qinghuan any trouble.

With New Year’s coming, the wild boar in her space were fat and healthy. Gu Qinghuan figured it was time to slaughter one for the holiday.

Though wild boar meat wasn’t as tasty as domestic pork, after being raised on spiritual spring water, it should be pretty good.

There were also wild goats, deer, and silly roe deer—she’d try slaughtering one of each.

While taking stock, Gu Qinghuan suddenly remembered she’d once brought in a little sable and had completely forgotten about it.

Where had it gone?

She searched all over her space but couldn’t find it—the thing was just too small and easy to overlook.

According to books, sables are nocturnal, sleeping during the day and active at night. That probably explained its disappearance.

Just as Gu Qinghuan was about to give up, she noticed something strange: at some point, a large, round, purple flower had bloomed in the middle of the spiritual spring.

Could this be the demon-banishing flower the King of the Underworld had mentioned?

Curious, she went over to take a closer look. Suddenly, a streak of dark brown shot out of the flower and landed on her shoulder, startling her.

Looking closely—who else could it be but the little sable?

Ever since it came in, she’d forgotten about it. It must have been sneaking spiritual spring water, judging by its sleek, shiny fur and lively appearance. It had even made the demon-banishing flower its own backyard, sleeping inside it.

Gu Qinghuan was both exasperated and amused. She grabbed the little thing.

The sable looked at her with a pleading expression, as if begging for mercy.

She held it in her arms, smoothing its fur, and threatened, “That flower is very important. You’d better not mess with it, or I’ll stew you! I’ve never eaten sable meat before.”

The little sable seemed to understand, shivering in fright. Then it jumped from her arms, ran a few steps, and turned back to signal her to follow.

Unbelievable—this little guy was practically a spirit now.

Gu Qinghuan followed to see what it wanted. It ran all the way to the red pine forest and stopped beside a big red pine. It expertly dug open a small hole under the tree and disappeared inside.

So that’s where it was hiding! No wonder she hadn’t noticed.

Looking around, Gu Qinghuan saw animal fur and bones near the entrance—was that… a wild rabbit?

This sable was really something, treating her ranch like its own backyard and even stealing her rabbits!

Just as she was about to drag it out, it emerged from the hole, holding something.

The little sable placed it at her feet, looking up at her ingratiatingly, almost human-like.

Gu Qinghuan’s anger faded. She bent down to take a closer look. The thing was covered in dirt, black and unremarkable, but looked familiar.

Wait—was this… ginseng? Though it had no rootlets, it was clearly ginseng, just the middle part, probably because the sable had damaged it while digging.

Wow, this was a big one—probably a hundred years old. Who knew where it had dug it up from? Maybe it had come in with the other things she’d collected earlier.

The little guy even knew how to curry favor—not bad! Gu Qinghuan’s anger vanished instantly. A few rabbits in exchange for a century-old ginseng? What a deal!

She carefully wrapped up the ginseng, then picked up the little sable. “Since you brought me a treasure, I’ll let it go this time. You can eat as many rabbits as you want, just don’t waste them. And don’t mess with my demon-banishing flower again, or I’ll send you back to the wild.”

The sable seemed to understand, nodding repeatedly.

A sable that could find ginseng? She’d never heard of such a thing!

But seeing is believing. She’d witnessed it herself.

“Little sable, help me find more treasures in this forest, okay?” Gu Qinghuan said, hugging it greedily.

The sable yawned—humans were so troublesome.

Then it ran straight back into its burrow and didn’t come out.

Gu Qinghuan wasn’t annoyed. Happily, she took her newly acquired ginseng and went to bed."

"Chapter 162: The Piano, Ming Ruxue’s Parents

Early the next morning, Xia Lian brought over the list of supplies she’d put together herself, along with some homemade sesame paste for everyone to try.

Gu Qinghuan happily accepted the paste and told her to go back and wait—at the latest, Lanting would deliver the grain to her by the afternoon.

After Xia Lian left, Gu Qinghuan headed out and quickly gathered all the grains and materials on the list—of course, she ordered them from the vending machine.

It was a bit heavy, two or three hundred jin, so she simply hired two rickshaws and had Lanting accompany the delivery.

As soon as Lanting left, Xiao Zhuo pulled up to the little Western-style house with a screech of his brakes.

“Brother Xiao, heading to work? Have you eaten? We made youtiao for breakfast,” Gu Qinghuan greeted him warmly—they were quite familiar by now, so her tone was friendly.

“No, I’m not eating. I just came to tell you that I have news about the piano you asked me to look into last time.

It’s quite a coincidence—the director from the Revolutionary Committee who was just removed from his post was found guilty of taking bribes, and all his family property has been confiscated and is being sold off.

Among the items is a Japanese-imported Yamaha piano, which he bought for his daughter just at the start of this year—it’s practically brand new.

But since there aren’t many people interested in pianos, no one’s bought it yet. The price is pretty low, about three thousand yuan, though I heard he paid seven or eight thousand for it.

If you’re sure you want it, I can talk to someone and see if I can get the price down a bit more for you.”

Gu Qinghuan was surprised. She’d only mentioned in passing that she wanted to buy a cheap piano for Zhong Luoning to pass the time and asked if he had any connections. She hadn’t expected him to take it so seriously.

“That’s wonderful! I do want it, and if you can get the price down, that would be even better. Thank you so much, Brother Xiao.”

“Alright, I’ll ask around and let you know this afternoon.” With that, Xiao Zhuo glanced up at the second-floor window of the house, saw nothing, and then drove off.

Zhong Luoning was a piano teacher. She’d studied piano since childhood, and when she got married, her family gave her a Yamaha piano as part of her dowry. Later, the Xu family sold it off for next to nothing, accusing her of having capitalist tendencies.

She hadn’t touched a piano in a long time.

—

Xiao Zhuo arrived at his office and made a call.

“Leizi, are you sure that piano is still there, not missing a thing?”

“Zhuo-ge, you know we have rules here. If we sell it too cheap and someone finds out, we’ll all get in trouble. Sorry!”

Xiao Zhuo paused for a few seconds, then said, “How about this: I’ll bring the buyer over this afternoon to pick it up. But I’ll pay half the money myself, and give it to you privately.

When she comes this afternoon, don’t tell her the real price. Just say no one wants the piano and you’re letting it go for fifteen hundred. Don’t let it slip, okay?”

On the other end, a teasing voice replied, “Bro, you’ve finally met your match with a beauty, huh? What kind of woman is worth you going to all this trouble? Just giving away fifteen hundred like that!

But you’re not short on cash anyway, so it’s fine, haha.”

Xiao Zhuo hung up, exasperated.

—

Back at Gu Qinghuan’s place, just after Xiao Zhuo left, a military vehicle pulled up in front of the house.

She thought it was Xu Huaian coming back and rushed out excitedly—she hadn’t seen him in days and missed him.

But instead of Xu Huaian, a middle-aged couple stepped out.

Gu Qinghuan was completely confused.

Suddenly, the elegant woman spotted her, her eyes lighting up. She walked over and took Gu Qinghuan’s hand. “Oh, you must be Qinghuan! My, how you’ve grown—so much prettier than before.”

“Uh, may I ask who you are…?” Gu Qinghuan couldn’t recall having any relatives in the military, except for her eldest uncle, who was still out in the northwest.

“I’m Ruxue’s mother! Sorry to trouble you. We just got a letter from Ruxue a few days ago—she said you’ve been taking care of her lately. We’re really grateful.” The woman was none other than Ming Ruxue’s real mother, Nan Sheng.

The man took the large bags of gifts from the young soldier who’d been driving, then said, “Wait for us in the car, please.”

The young soldier delivered the gifts and obediently sat back in the driver’s seat.

Judging by this, they’d be leaving soon. Gu Qinghuan quickly invited them inside.

Ming Ruxue was in the yard feeding rabbits with the three little ones.

“Ruxue, look who’s here!”

Ming Ruxue turned and saw her notoriously absent parents. Her eyes instantly reddened.

She was tough and independent, but ever since coming from the US to China, she hadn’t seen her parents since getting off the plane.

A young girl, not having been back to her home country for years, unfamiliar with everything—deep down, she felt lost and scared.

At this moment, all the emotions she’d been suppressing burst forth, and she couldn’t help but feel wronged.

“Sweetheart, come here, let Mommy give you a hug.” Nan Sheng rushed over and enveloped her daughter in a bear hug.

Ming Ruxue, though aggrieved, awkwardly hugged her mother back—and then burst into tears.

She sobbed uncontrollably.

Nan Sheng ended up crying too.

Many things in life are a dilemma. It’s not that they didn’t love their child, but the responsibilities on their shoulders were too heavy.

If they didn’t shoulder those responsibilities, there would be thousands of children like Ming Ruxue—homeless, hungry.

From the country’s perspective, they were noble and selfless, great scientists who led secret national projects and made tremendous contributions to China—truly admirable.

But as parents, they were failures, not fulfilling even the most basic duties to their child.

When Ruxue was little, she often had to eat at neighbors’ houses. After moving to the US, she was left to fend for herself, sometimes not seeing her parents for weeks. Now, back in China, it was the same.

If Gu Qinghuan hadn’t taken her in, she’d still be living at the Overseas Chinese Hotel.

In Ming Ruxue’s memories, she was always drifting, like a rootless duckweed.

Ming Cheng stepped forward to comfort his wife and daughter.

Gu Qinghuan took the three little ones away, giving the family space to reunite.

“Ruxue, you’ve gained weight!” Ming Cheng blurted out—if this were modern times, people would call him a hopeless straight man.

Ming Ruxue, still emotional, was so annoyed by her father’s comment that she forgot to cry.

“Dad, Sister Huanhuan says I’m still a kid and need to grow! Chubby is cute.”

“Alright, I take it back!” Ming Cheng shrugged helplessly.

He didn’t actually think gaining weight was bad—he was just surprised. His daughter had always been a picky eater and skinny as a stick. How did she suddenly put on weight?

“Our Ruxue looks even cuter with some baby fat.” Nan Sheng pinched her chubby cheeks.

“It’s because Sister Huanhuan’s cooking is so good—I can’t help eating more. Now I go to school with Lanting, and I eat at Sister Huanhuan’s house every day.

She lets me stay at her place for free, won’t take any money, and even bought me new clothes and shoes for the New Year. She’s been so good to me.” Ming Ruxue wanted her parents to know how well Gu Qinghuan had treated her.

“We know. We came today especially to thank her.”

In fact, Ming Cheng and Nan Sheng had already heard about it through their contacts. They made time to come today specifically to thank Gu Qinghuan, and to see Ruxue before the New Year.

They might seem careless, but they always kept an eye on their daughter’s safety—someone would report on her situation regularly.

Especially since she’d moved into someone else’s house, they’d been worried, but when they heard it was the Gu family’s daughter, they were reassured.

Back when they lived in China, the two families were neighbors. When the Mings were busy, their child was practically raised at the Gu house—eating, drinking, and wearing Gu Qinghuan’s old pretty dresses and skirts.

Zhong Zijun was a gentle woman who doted on Ruxue, treating her like her own—braiding her hair, teaching her to use the bathroom, taking her to kindergarten.

You could say that Ruxue’s childhood wasn’t unhappy despite her parents’ absence, thanks in large part to Zhong Zijun.

Ruxue was grown now and might not remember much from back then, but as adults, they couldn’t forget—they owed a debt of gratitude.

They’d rushed back to China and immediately thrown themselves into intense research, not even having time to settle their daughter.

They’d only just learned what had happened to the Zhong family.

Nan Sheng cursed Gu Yunchuan to high heaven while secretly trying to find out more.

The answer she got was: Wait.

The Zhong family had done nothing wrong—their only “fault” was being a family of scholars, all highly educated intellectuals.

That year, there was a campaign to “thoroughly expose the bourgeois reactionary academic authorities’ anti-Party, anti-socialist stance, and thoroughly criticize the bourgeois reactionary ideology in academia, education, journalism, literature, and publishing.”

“To beat down so-called bourgeois experts, scholars, authorities, and masters, and strip them of their prestige.”

Intellectuals became the primary targets of struggle. They hadn’t done anything wrong, but were scapegoated for a few words.

The persecution of intellectuals during this period reached horrifying levels.

That year, out of more than 170 senior intellectuals at the Chinese Academy of Sciences in Beijing, 131 were targeted for downfall or investigation. The Zhong family wasn’t on the list, but Gu Yunchuan, for his own selfish reasons, falsely reported them and dragged them down too.

The situation was dire—over a thousand households were raided, and more than 200 people were persecuted to death.

The humiliation of intellectuals reached its peak—knowledge became a crime, and intellectuals were treated as criminals, cast to the bottom of society.

If the Ming family hadn’t moved away back then, their fate would likely have been the same as the Zhong family’s.

After all these years, people were finally realizing how vital intellectuals were to the country’s development—even going so far as to invite them back from the US. Clearly, the day when the clouds would part was not far off."

"Chapter 163: Heart for Heart, Piano Performance