Chapter 93: Going to Grandpa Sheng’s Family
At her age, Aunt Sheng knew she could no longer compete with her peers; she could only measure her success by the achievements of the younger generation. Unfortunately, not a single one of her children or grandchildren had managed to secure a job in the city. None of her grandsons were battalion commanders, and none of her granddaughters worked in the prestigious city cotton mills.
Uncle Sheng gave his wife a sharp, warning look, wordlessly telling her not to make things awkward. His brother’s family was thriving; if they offended them now, they would gain nothing. He reminded her with a heavy gaze that there were still favors they needed to ask for. Aunt Sheng understood immediately. Forcing a smile, she poured five cups of sugar water to welcome them warmly.
Grandma Sheng took a sip but remained silent. Grandpa Sheng and Uncle Sheng began to chat. No matter how much the two brothers had quarreled in the past, they were still blood; they couldn’t treat each other as strangers.
“I heard your Wanyan is also working in the city now. You are truly lucky, sister-in-law,” Aunt Sheng remarked. “With a grandson who is a battalion commander, you must have nothing left to worry about.”
Grandma Sheng smiled. It was rare for her sister-in-law to humble herself enough to offer praise, which meant there was almost certainly an ulterior motive. “Sister-in-law, you flatter us. This is all the children’s own hard work. As elders, we just hope we don’t become a burden to them.”
“Yes, yes, of course…” Aunt Sheng felt a prickle of discomfort. To her ears, it sounded as though Grandma Sheng was preemptively warning her that the children wouldn’t be handing out favors to their cousins.
“It’s a rare occasion for us brothers to be together,” Uncle Sheng cut in. “We must have a few drinks.”
“Right you are. I brought some good wine specifically so we could have a couple of rounds together,” Grandpa Sheng added. He had packed the bottles from home, intending to drink his fill during this trip back to the countryside.
Sheng Wanyan shot her grandfather a warning look. The moment he saw his granddaughter’s eyes, he bit his tongue and stopped talking about the wine. Ever since his surgery and hospitalization, she had been incredibly strict about his diet and habits.
Aunt Sheng led her four granddaughters-in-law into the kitchen to start the meal, while the children played in the yard. Uncle Sheng was already a great-grandfather, boasting three great-grandsons and three great-grandsons. The boys were plump and fair, dressed in brand-new cotton-padded jackets. The eldest was eight, the middle boy was five, and the youngest was only a year old.
The three great-granddaughters, however, were treated quite differently. They were bundled in tattered hand-me-downs discarded by the boys, shivering in the cold as they were herded into the kitchen to work.
“Hurry up! You’re already nothing but money-losers, and you still want to be lazy?” Aunt Sheng snapped, venting her frustrations on the girls.
The three girls didn’t dare utter a sound. They immediately began tending the fire and washing vegetables, plunging their hands into bone-chilling water despite it being the middle of winter. The oldest was six, the second was four, and the youngest was only three. Their faces were sallow and their hair was yellowed from malnutrition; they were so thin it looked as if a gust of wind might knock them over.
The four granddaughters-in-law said nothing. The family had not yet split their inheritance, so they had to obey Aunt Sheng in everything. She was a formidable woman; to refute her was to invite a public scolding.
The eldest grandson’s wife, having birthed the first great-grandson, still held some status. The second wife had a boy and a girl, the third had two girls, and the fourth had one boy. The third grandson’s wife watched her two daughters laboring in the cold but ignored them. Since she hadn’t produced a son, her life in the family was difficult. She viewed her daughters as a waste of resources and sometimes wondered why she had even bothered to give birth to them. If she had known they were girls, she might have strangled them at birth. Then she wouldn’t have to endure being pointed at as a “barren hen” who couldn’t produce a male heir.
The other wives remained silent, figuring the girls would be married off eventually anyway, so a few scoldings mattered little. As long as their precious sons weren’t the ones being yelled at, they were content—they knew they would rely on their sons for support in their old age.
From the living room, Sheng Wanyan could hear Aunt Sheng’s sharp tongue lashing out in the backyard. She chose to ignore it. Since the girls’ own parents didn’t care, she wasn’t going to meddle in another family’s business. She sat with Mother Sheng, listening to the chatter and observing the house.
The courtyard was large, necessitated by the many rooms required for a family that hadn’t yet split up. Living under the thumb of a woman as domineering as Aunt Sheng was overwhelming for the younger women, but few families chose to divide in this era. Staying together meant they could usually eat until they were mostly full; splitting up often meant starting with nothing and struggling just to survive.
Aunt Sheng and her daughters-in-law produced a substantial meal: a pot of pork stewed with vermicelli, braised pork, and a fish. The rest were various vegetable and cold dishes. The staple foods were the usual steamed corn cakes and sweet potatoes. For villagers, having even one meat dish was a luxury. If Aunt Sheng didn’t desperately need a favor from her brother-in-law, and if they hadn’t brought the two kilograms of meat themselves, she would never have been so generous.
“Mom, look! Meat!” The eldest great-grandson shouted. He ran to the table and snatched a piece of braised pork, stuffing it into his mouth without even washing his hands.
Uncle Sheng scowled, barking that it was unruly for the boy to behave this way when his uncle’s family was visiting.
“Old man, please, take it easy on him,” Aunt Sheng said, quickly pulling her grandson away to avoid her husband’s further anger.
“Grandma! I want meat! It’s all mine!” the boy screamed.
“You’ll eat in a minute. We’ll all eat together,” Aunt Sheng whispered, covering his mouth to silence the outbursts that were making the patriarch’s face turn dark. Uncle Sheng was fuming; how could his grandson be so selfish and ill-mannered?
“Dad, he’s still young,” the eldest grandson’s wife added, rushing over to pull her son away from the table. “He doesn’t know what he’s saying.”
But the boy continued to make a scene, shouting that all the meat belonged to him because he was the eldest grandson. This was a sentiment his grandmother reinforced daily—telling him that everything in the house would eventually be his.
“He’s eight years old!” Uncle Sheng snapped. “If he does this again, send him to work in the fields.”
The family nodded in submissive frustration. Aunt Sheng finally managed to quiet the boy to avoid further embarrassment. “The child is just ignorant, influenced by the younger ones,” she tried to excuse him to Grandma Sheng.
Grandma Sheng just shook her head. What was there to say? They hadn’t disciplined the boy properly, and he had made a fool of himself during the New Year. As an outsider, she wouldn’t interfere.
“Let’s eat,” Aunt Sheng finally announced.
Everyone took their seats. Sheng Wanyan sat with her parents next to Grandma Sheng. It was a prime spot for reaching the dishes. Aunt Sheng had originally intended for Wanyan and the other granddaughters of the house to sit at the far end where they couldn’t easily reach the meat, but given the circumstances, she didn’t dare suggest it.
