In the fiery red era of the heavens, refrigerators are refreshed daily.

Chapter 165, Section 164: Must be brought home. Planning ahead. Clearing obstacles for remarriage. Compensation and distribution.
As dusk settled, the last rays of the setting sun were swallowed by the towering rooftops of the Shikumen houses.

The dim streetlights cast blurry halos of light on the bluestone slabs, barely illuminating a few silent faces.

The neighbors sat scattered about, fanning themselves with palm-leaf fans, but their gazes kept drifting towards the doorway.

Heavy footsteps approached from afar, breaking the stillness of the courtyard. The Yang family dragged their exhausted bodies in, their shadows stretched long and thin by the streetlights, as if they might be crushed by the heavy night at any moment.

Li Guihua spotted Zhuangzhuang wriggling and crying in Grandma Chen's arms at a glance.

"Oh my, Zhuangzhuang!"

Li Guihua practically lunged forward and snatched her son from Granny Chen's arms.

The child's face was flushed from crying, his forehead was sweaty, and his little hands were waving wildly in the air. He was clearly not used to being separated from his mother for so long.

Li Guihua skillfully hugged him tightly, her cheek pressed against the child's sweaty temples, her arms patting him gently and rhythmically, her voice low and soothing: "Oh, don't cry, don't cry, Zhuangzhuang, be good, Mommy's home, we're home, we're home..."

Zhuangzhuang felt the familiar scent and embrace, and his sobs gradually subsided, turning into a pitiful whimper. He nestled his little head into the crook of his mother's neck in a dependent manner.

Li Guihua held him and gently rocked him, using her body movements to dispel the child's fear.

The neighbors who were cooling off in the courtyard—Grandma Chen, He Caiyun, and Mrs. Feng—tacitly refrained from asking too many questions, only casting concerned glances and exchanging a few simple, low-pitched greetings.

"You're back?" Granny Chen's voice was filled with a cautious inquiry.

"Well, I'm back."

Yang Yongkang walked at the front, his voice low and muffled, as if covered by a layer of dust.

He nodded very slightly to his neighbors, so slightly that it was almost invisible, as a greeting, and then walked silently to his own door.

Zhang Xiuying was being supported by Li Guihua and Yang Guangming, one on each side. Her face was sallow, her eyelids drooped heavily, and she looked as if all her strength had been drained away. Her steps were unsteady, and she followed her husband with uneven steps.

Yang Guanghui walked silently at the back, his tall body slightly hunched, his face filled with an overwhelming weariness and a numb sorrow, as if his soul still lingered in that cold cemetery.

Once inside, the door creaked softly as it closed, seemingly isolating the outside world from everything.

A dim light bulb hung in the center of the room, casting a meager glow that illuminated the old and somewhat cramped furnishings.

Yang Yongkang did not sit down.

He stood in the center of the room, the dim light highlighting the deep lines on his already serious face. He habitually straightened his back, but deep weariness was etched between his brows.

He glanced around at his family, his gaze lingering briefly on each face—his wife's distraught and haggard appearance, the deep bewilderment in his eldest son's eyes, the tension beneath his youngest son's calm exterior, and the forced composure of his daughter-in-law as she held her grandson.

He took a deep breath, the air sinking into his lungs, resonating in his chest, breaking the suffocating silence: "Sit down, everyone."

His voice wasn't loud, but it was like a stone thrown into stagnant water, creating invisible ripples: "There's something I need to discuss with everyone."

His tone was unusually serious, carrying an unquestionable weight.

The exhausted group felt a chill and quickly found places to sit down.

Zhang Xiuying was helped to sit in the well-worn rattan chair, her body sinking in like a clay sculpture that had lost its support.

Yang Guangming moved a small stool and sat down next to his mother, silently offering her support.

Yang Guanghui leaned against the cold dresser, his body slid slightly, as if even standing required a great deal of effort from him.

Li Guihua held Zhuangzhuang in her arms, sat on the edge of the bed, adjusted her position to make the child sleep more soundly, and her gaze fell on her father-in-law's face, with a hint of tension that was not easily detected.

"The memorial service will end tomorrow, and Jianjun will be laid to rest." Yang Yongkang's voice was steady, but each word was like a chisel carving into wood, clear and heavy. "I plan to bring Xianglan, Honghong, and Amao home to live with us."

There was a moment of silence after he said that.

The air seemed to freeze.

Li Guihua's hand, which was patting Zhuangzhuang, paused subconsciously, her fingertips curling slightly. The others were also somewhat surprised, but then felt it was understandable. Their daughter had just suffered such a terrible ordeal, and it was only natural for a father to want to take her back to his side and care for her for a while.

After a brief pause, responses followed one after another.

Yang Guangming nodded first, his voice clear and steady: "Dad is right. My eldest sister is in this condition, she can't do without a family member to take care of her. It's good that she comes back to stay for a while, at least someone will keep an eye on her and help share some of the burden."

He was considering his eldest sister's current situation and the care of their two young children.

Yang Guanghui also gave a muffled "hmm," the voice sounding like it was being squeezed out of his chest: "It's time to bring her back. There are more people in the family, they can keep an eye on her, so she won't... overthink things."

He was worried that his older sister was in a daze and might do something foolish.

Zhang Xiuying's eyes immediately reddened, and tears welled up silently, sliding down her cheeks.

She gripped the armrest of the wicker chair, nodding repeatedly, her voice choked with emotion: "Good, good, good! It's good to bring her back! Seeing her like that breaks my heart..."

"When she comes back to stay, I'll make her something warm every day and boil some soup to help her recover... I can also help take care of Honghong and Amao..."

As a mother, she was filled with her daughter's pain and only wanted to comfort her in the most direct way.

Li Guihua held Zhuangzhuang in her arms, forcing a look of agreement on her face, her tone deliberately light:
"It's time to come back and stay here. A change of scenery will help... and my mood will improve sooner. Home..."

She paused, her gaze quickly sweeping over the 20-square-meter front room, where a chest of drawers, a dining table, and stools almost filled the entire space. "It's a bit cramped, but at least my family is here, and it's warm and cozy."

She emphasized the word "hot," as if trying to convince herself.

She quickly made up her mind.

My sister-in-law is bringing her two children back to stay, and they won't be staying for short periods. This small space is already cramped, and with Xianglan and her three children on top of that... their lives will definitely be very inconvenient.

But given the current situation, her father-in-law has spoken, her husband and brother-in-law both support him, and her mother-in-law is even more eager for it. She cannot and dares not object.

He could only think that Xianglan couldn't stay there forever, could she? Once things calmed down and she was in a better mood, she would move out. It didn't take long; she just gritted her teeth and got through it.

Everyone thought that Yang Yongkang was just feeling sorry for his daughter and wanted her to stay at her parents' home for a while to relax and recover from this great grief.

This is only natural, and it's the most direct concern we can think of right now.

However, Yang Yongkang's next words were like a cold bolt of lightning, shattering everyone's self-righteous understanding.

"It's not about staying for a period of time."

Yang Yongkang's sharp gaze swept over everyone, especially lingering on Li Guihua's face for a moment, as if he could see through her little scheme.

His tone was firm and unwavering, leaving no room for negotiation: "They must be brought back to live here permanently. And they must be brought back immediately after the memorial service tomorrow! Not a single day can be delayed!"

"Permanent resident?"

Zhang Xiuying was stunned. She subconsciously asked in disbelief, "Would the in-laws... and Xianglan herself, agree?"

As a mother, she knew her daughter all too well. Xianglan was feisty and strong-willed, but also loyal, devoted, and extremely filial.

With Jianjun gone, leaving behind her elderly in-laws, Xianglan, no matter how bitter she felt or how much she longed to return to her parents' home, could not possibly abandon her in-laws for her own sake at this critical juncture.

She would definitely feel that it was her responsibility, her duty. Her mother-in-law, Wang, had just lost her son, and now she was losing her grandchildren by her side; the blow was unimaginable for Zhang Xiuying.

“I know she won’t agree.” Yang Yongkang’s voice was completely flat, as calm as if he were stating a fact that had nothing to do with him, but his eyes were unusually firm. “So, we have to think of a way to make her come back. We can’t let her have a choice.”

The room fell silent again.

This time, even his breathing was much softer. Everyone was taken aback by Yang Yongkang's firm attitude and the deeper meaning behind his words.

Li Guihua unconsciously tightened her grip on Zhuangzhuang's arm, causing the child to shift uncomfortably. She quickly loosened her grip, but her heart pounded even harder.

Yang Guangming frowned slightly, looking at his father thoughtfully. He vaguely caught the deeper meaning behind his father's toughness, but he did not fully understand it yet.

Yang Guanghui looked bewildered, not understanding why his father was so "unreasonable".

Ignoring the astonishment of the crowd, Yang Yongkang continued his calm deployment, each word carrying an undeniable determination:
"I've come up with a plan. After the memorial service tomorrow, the cremation and burial, and everything is settled, we'll sit at the Wang family's house for a while, and then when we say goodbye..."

His gaze fell on Zhang Xiuying. "Xiuying, just pretend to be weak, unable to stand, and faint on the ground. You don't have to actually faint, just pretend to be weak and unsteady."

"Pretending to faint?"

Zhang Xiuying was startled, shifting uneasily in the rattan chair, her face filled with resistance and embarrassment. "I... I don't know how to pretend! I can't pull it off! It would be so embarrassing if people could tell..."

She was honest and upright all her life, rarely saying even a harsh word, and acting was harder than climbing to heaven for her.

"It doesn't have to be like on the stage."

Yang Yongkang interrupted her, his tone leaving no room for doubt, "You just clutch your chest, furrow your brow, and say you can't breathe, your vision is going black, and then your body slumps to the side."

"Guihua will be there to support you, just enough to make it seem serious."

He turned to Li Guihua, his eyes carrying a command, "Guihua, when the time comes, just say loudly that your mother's heart hasn't been feeling well lately, and she always complains of chest pain at night. It's probably a recurrence of her old angina."

Having suffered such a huge blow and being overwhelmed with grief, her body certainly can't take it anymore.

You need to show the Wang family that you are extremely worried about your mother's health; you need to be anxious and panicked.

Li Guihua immediately understood her father-in-law's meaning. Although she felt awkward and uneasy about having to cooperate in the "acting"—after all, this wasn't something that could be done openly—she still quickly nodded in agreement.

"Okay, Dad, I understand. I... I just said that Mom's complexion has been very bad these past few days, she can't eat or sleep well, and last night she was in so much pain that she almost passed out. Luckily, she took some medicine and felt better."

She tried hard to recall scenes from the plays she had seen, organizing her thoughts to make her "illness" sound as real and believable as possible.

Yang Yongkang nodded slightly and continued, "Xianglan must be anxious and worried when she sees her mother like this."

Osmanthus, you should take this opportunity to persuade her:

"Mom is so sick, it's impossible for her to be left alone to take care of her day and night. You must be feeling terrible right now, and the two children are so young and needy."

Why not take the child and go back to your parents' house for a while?

Firstly, it makes it easier to take care of your mother and fulfill your filial duty; secondly, a change of environment will allow you to relax and not be saddened by those old things every day, helping you to cheer up sooner.

After all, from now on, this family and the two children will both depend on you.

You need to take care of yourself first before you can take care of the child. Your family has your father, mother, me, your older brother, Mingming, and we can all lend a hand.

He paused, his gaze sweeping deeply over the crowd, revealing the core purpose of this "strategy":

"With this pretext, Xianglan, worried about her mother's health, could rightfully return to her parents' home to take care of her."

Even if the Wang family had their own thoughts, they couldn't very well stop them in front of so many close relatives, as it would seem heartless.

"This way, we'll have a plausible reason to the outside world, preventing those gossipy women from spreading rumors that Xianglan rushed back to her parents' home immediately after her husband's death, giving them ammunition to spread gossip."

He had considered everything carefully; he wanted to bring his daughter back while also silencing gossip and protecting her reputation.

Only now did Yang Yongkang truly reveal the deeper reason why he was so eager to bring his daughter back, even resorting to "schemes".

He walked to the center of the room, where the dim light made his already serious face appear even more striking, like a weathered stone statue.

He spoke slowly, his voice not loud, yet every word carried immense weight, striking clearly into everyone's hearts and revealing the cruel reality beneath the veil of warmth:
"I know you all thought I was just worried about Xianglan suffering and wanted her to come back and rest for a few days. No!"

He denied it categorically, "It's not for a few days, nor for a few months. I want her back because I plan to have her live here permanently from now on. This will be her home with Honghong and Amao from now on."

Seeing the shocked looks on his wife's and sons' faces, he continued, his tone heavy and carrying a timeless foresight:

"Think about it, Xianglan was born four or five years ago, and she's only twenty-five this year!"

She has a long life ahead of her!
Jianjun's passing is a devastating blow; we are all heartbroken and wish we could take her place.

But as parents, we can't just wallow in our grief. We have to look ahead and plan for Xianglan's future!

What will she do in ten or twenty years?

He paused, his gaze sweeping over his daughter-in-law Li Guihua before returning to his wife Zhang Xiuying's face, as if trying to make them see the future that was temporarily obscured by sorrow:
“She is heartbroken right now, and Jianjun is all she thinks about. I understand that; she is truly in pain.”

But life goes on. After a year or two, the pain will gradually fade. She's so young, is she really going to spend her whole life guarding Jianjun's memorial tablet, all alone in this shikumen?

"Impossible! She has to move on, meet the right person, start a new family, have children, and live her own life. That's the right thing to do!"

Yang Yongkang's gaze sharpened, revealing a profound insight into his mother-in-law, Wang, and a merciless analysis:
"But have you ever thought about what would happen if she continued to live in the Wang family, in that house full of Jianjun's shadow, facing her in-laws every day, facing all the things he used, sleeping in the bed he slept in..."

How can I get over this grief? How can I sever this attachment?
Even after two or three years, she probably won't be able to resolve that feeling in her heart. Trapped by that environment, she might not be willing to consider remarrying, or... she might not even dare to think about it!

He abruptly shifted his tone, getting straight to the heart of the matter, his voice carrying a cold, realistic edge:

"And then there's Xianglan's mother-in-law, Wang Shi! Don't you know what kind of person she is?"

She valued Xianglan because Xianglan could give her a grandson! And continue the Wang family line!
Now that Jianjun is gone, Amao is her lifeline! He is her only hope for old age and her final resting place!
Would she willingly watch Xianglan remarry and move to another family with her beloved grandson? Would she watch the only descendant of the Wang family take someone else's surname?

He waved his hand sharply, his voice firm: "Absolutely impossible! When the time comes, she will definitely try every means to stop us! She'll cry and wail and make a scene! She'll use Ah Mao as leverage and her filial piety to pressure us!"

She would say things like, "Jianjun's body is not cold yet," "How can you bear to leave us, the old couple, behind?" and "Amao is Jianjun's root; he must stay in the Wang family!"
You all know Xianglan's personality: she's soft-hearted, loyal, and filial!
With Wang's crying, fussing, and obstruction, even if she had some ideas or hopes, she couldn't take that step!
She'll be trapped in the Wang family, suffocated by guilt and responsibility! Her life will be completely ruined!

His analysis was like a cold carving knife, instantly peeling away the veil of warmth and the fog of sorrow before his eyes, revealing the cruel reality that he might face in the next ten years or so.

Zhang Xiuying's face turned pale, and her lips trembled. She was so preoccupied with her daughter's current grief that she hadn't thought about the long-term or practical implications.

Being bluntly exposed by her husband at this moment, she felt a chill run from the soles of her feet to the top of her head, and she was filled with lingering fear.

"so!"

Yang Yongkang's tone was resolute, carrying the determination of a family head and an almost tragic protectiveness of his offspring:

"We must do it now! While Xianglan is still immersed in grief, her mind is blank, and she doesn't have the strength to think that far ahead; while the Wang family is still mired in chaos and sorrow, and hasn't had time to think about the future, hasn't put the shackles of 'responsibility' on Xianglan! Bring her back! Do it all at once, bring her back to her parents' home to live!"

His gaze was intense, as if he wanted to burn through the predicament before him:

"Give her a change of environment! Get her away from that place that constantly reminds her of her lost husband!"

Let her stay with her parents and brothers, and with the support and guidance of her family, so that she can gradually calm down and get used to life without Jianjun.

It also allowed her...slowly, little by little, to see clearly which path she should take in the future.

With time and change in environment, the knot in one's heart may gradually untie.

This is the only way!

His gaze swept over his son and daughter-in-law, finally settling on Zhang Xiuying's pale, bloodless face, carrying an undeniable command:
"If we miss this opportunity after tomorrow's memorial service, and wait until the Wang family has recovered and Xianglan has calmed down and her mind is clear, will it be possible to get her to leave her husband's family and return to her parents' home permanently?"

He sneered, with a sense of worldly wisdom and desolation, "Xianglan has a hard time over her own hurdle!"

She would feel guilty for abandoning her in-laws who had just lost their son! It would be ungrateful!
Forget about getting past Wang Shi! She'd rather die than let him go!
By then, it will be even more difficult to bring Xianglan out! It will be harder than climbing to heaven!
Even if we talk ourselves hoarse, it might not be of any use!
This is our only chance! We must bring him back tomorrow!

Yang Yongkang took a deep breath, his chest heaving, as if he wanted to expel all the pent-up emotions and deep worries in his heart.

His voice carried a complex heaviness, but his stance was exceptionally clear and unwavering:

"I know that Jianjun's parents lost their son, and it's very pitiful for them to bury their son."

If Xianglan remarries in the future, the elderly couple will be all alone, with no children, which will be even more pitiful.

We've considered these things, and we're not inconsiderate.

He acknowledged the harshness of this reality and the weight of human relationships.

"But we are Xianglan's parents first and foremost!"

His voice suddenly rose, carrying a resolute determination that cut off all hesitation: "What we feel sorry for is our own daughter!"
She's only twenty-five! Her life has just begun!
To make her a widow at such a young age, and confine her for the rest of her life? To waste her youth in that cage of the Wang family?

That's even more pitiful than the current plight of the Wang family elders!
That's truly inhumane and irresponsible! It's watching her jump into a fire without offering a helping hand!

These words were spoken with great conviction, completely revealing the deep-seated scheming behind his tough stance and his profound love for his daughter.

He was not only dealing with the immediate grief, but also planning ahead for his daughter's long life, clearing obstacles, even at the cost of being labeled as heartless.

This fatherly love is profound, strong, and even carries a touch of cold calculation, yet it gets straight to the heart of the problem.

A longer silence fell over the room. The light bulb emitted a faint hum of electricity.

Everyone felt as if a huge rock was pressing down on their hearts, so heavy that it was almost impossible to breathe.

Yang Yongkang's vision of the future is filled with the helplessness of reality and the potential conflicts, but it also clearly points to what he believes is the best way out for his daughter.

This decision, stripped of emotional sorrow, is filled with rational ruthlessness and long-term responsibility.

Looking at his father's deeply lined yet resolute profile, Yang Guangming felt a surge of admiration, even a touch of shame at his own inferiority. He had vaguely considered that his eldest sister would eventually remarry, but it remained just a thought that he would "deal with it in the future."

Never before had my father seen through the real obstacles and solutions so clearly and planned them so specifically.

They even go so far as to make moves and seize the initiative while their loved ones have just passed away and their bodies are still warm.

This profound paternal love, long-term vision, and decisiveness—the courage to take responsibility and the willingness to offend others—deeply moved him.

Father is right. Letting things take their course seems reasonable, but in this era, in the Wang family's environment, the longer it drags on, the heavier the resistance from her husband's family and the psychological shackles from her own body will become, binding her tighter and tighter like vines.

Taking that step again would be as difficult as climbing to heaven.

The father's "toughness" and "calculation" at this moment are precisely the greatest responsibility and protection he can give to his eldest sister's future.

On this point, he had to admit that he was not as good as his father.

After the accident, his main concern was the immediate issues of securing compensation and making arrangements for the aftermath, while his father's gaze had already pierced through the present sorrow and fallen on his eldest sister's future life.

"Old man..."

Zhang Xiuying's voice was choked with sobs, and tears finally streamed down her face again.

She gripped her husband's rough hand tightly; his cold fingers conveyed dependence and acceptance. She nodded vigorously.

"You're right! You're absolutely right! I was so confused, I was only thinking about the present... just that she was crying so pitifully..."

Xianglan is only twenty-five! Such a beautiful age... I... I support you!
Tomorrow, I'll definitely cooperate! You tell me how to install it, and I'll install it exactly that way!

As a mother, she fully understood her husband's good intentions at that moment and stood by his side without hesitation.

For her daughter's future, she was willing to do this "undignified" thing.

Yang Guanghui wiped his face, let out a heavy sigh, as if a heavy burden had been lifted, and said in a muffled voice:
"Dad, we'll listen to you! Whatever you say, we'll do! It's all for Xianglan's good!"

He might not understand as deeply as his younger brother, but he knew his father was acting for his older sister's long-term happiness, and that was enough. He chose to unconditionally trust and support his father's decision.

Yang Guangming also said in a deep voice, "Dad has thought things through. We really need to plan for our eldest sister's future as soon as possible. Tomorrow we will act according to the situation and make sure to bring our eldest sister and the two children back."

His statement was concise and powerful, full of agreement with his father's plan and determination to carry it out.

All eyes eventually focused on Li Guihua, the invisible pressure causing her to stiffen slightly as she held Zhuangzhuang's arm.

Her slight reluctance and worries about the cramped living space seemed so insignificant, even selfish and short-sighted, in the face of her father-in-law's naked analysis and the inevitable trend.

She quickly adjusted her expression, trying to put on a sincere, even slightly anxious, smile, as if afraid of being too slow in expressing her opinion:
"Dad, Mom, don't worry!"

She deliberately raised her voice, making it sound very firm, "It's all for Xianglan's good, I understand! Tomorrow I will definitely perform well and cooperate with Mom to persuade Xianglan to come back!"
"What's wrong with a little space at home? We're all family, blood is thicker than water! We'll get through this! Xianglan getting better is the most important thing!"

She pronounced the words "overcome, overcome" very clearly and loudly, as if she were encouraging herself and also expressing her attitude to her parents-in-law.

Seeing that his whole family had clearly expressed their support, Yang Yongkang's tightly furrowed brows relaxed slightly, and the rigid and serious lines on his face seemed to soften a little.

He nodded, his voice revealing a hint of weariness, but more so a calm and composed tone: "Alright, since no one has any objections, then it's settled."

In the time that followed, the atmosphere was no longer as heavy and suffocating as before, but it was by no means relaxed either.

The mother-in-law and daughter-in-law began to discuss the details of "faking illness" the next day, and the air was filled with a peculiar, somewhat absurd, pragmatism.

"Old man, this fake fainting... I'm really afraid it won't be convincing, and I'll give myself away." Zhang Xiuying was still a little uneasy, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her clothes. "I've never lied in my life. If I panic, my legs will shake, and my face will definitely break down..."

"Then don't even think about actually fainting."

Yang Yongkang reiterated, his tone reassuring, "Just think about how you've really been exhausted these past few days, and how you've been feeling a tightness in your chest."

"At that time, you should cover your chest..."

He pointed to his left chest, "frowning, looking pale, and said, 'Ouch, my chest hurts so much, I can't breathe, and my vision keeps going black...'"

Then, her body slumped softly towards the osmanthus flowers beside her.

Shift your weight, and Guilan will naturally be able to support you. It's enough that it appears serious and sudden.

The Wang family was all immersed in grief, their minds in a daze; no one bothered to investigate whether you were truly dizzy or just unable to stand due to leg weakness.

"Yeah."

Li Guihua quickly chimed in, trying to make her tone sound natural and believable, "Mom, just do as Dad says."

Then I'll hold you up and shout loudly, "Mom! Mom, what's wrong? Don't scare me!" making it sound really urgent.

Then I spoke with Xianglan, and also with the Wang family..."

She cleared her throat and mimicked an anxious and worried tone, “My mother’s old heart problem has flared up again! Two years ago, the doctor said it was angina and that she couldn’t be stimulated or overworked!”

These past few days, she hasn't been able to eat or sleep well because of her brother-in-law's situation. She keeps saying that her heart feels like it's being stabbed with needles at night. Last night, the pain was so bad that she almost passed out and had to take several emergency pills to recover!
This is such a huge blow, she definitely won't be able to handle it! What are we going to do?!

She racked her brains to make the description sound authentic and believable, and to be rich in detail.

As Zhang Xiuying listened, imagining the scene, she still felt uncertain and sighed, "Alas, I've been an honest and simple person all my life, and now I have to learn to sing opera in my old age... I hope I don't give myself away and become a laughingstock, and make Xianglan suspicious..."

"Mom, you don't need to act like a character on stage."

Yang Guangming gently reminded him from the side, his voice carrying a reassuring calmness, "It mainly means that your body has indeed collapsed due to grief and exhaustion, and you are now very weak, needing someone to take care of you day and night."

The Wang family was overwhelmed with grief and lacked energy. The sister-in-law smoothed things over and made the situation sound more serious, so they would only worry and fret, and no one would bother to find out if you were really dizzy or just feeling too bad to stand.

The key is to make your older sister believe that you really need her.

"Mingming is right."

Yang Yongkang made the final decision, "That's how it'll be. Remember, the timing is crucial; it should be right when we're saying goodbye and preparing to leave."

By then, all the guests who were supposed to leave had left, leaving only close relatives, and Xianglan happened to be nearby. The atmosphere was relatively quiet, making your 'illness' seem even more sudden and heartbreaking.

After carefully reviewing several details and confirming that there were no major oversights, the family finally felt relieved.

The night outside the window grew even deeper, as thick as ink that couldn't be dissolved. The alleyway was already silent, with only the occasional faint bark of a dog in the distance, which only accentuated the profundity of the night.

A wave of immense fatigue washed over me, not just from physical exhaustion, but also from the mental exhaustion that followed a raging storm.

Sadness, shock, decision-making, planning... After a fierce collision of various emotions, what remains is a heavy blank.

"Get some rest, everyone." Yang Yongkang waved his hand, his voice revealing a deep, undisguised weariness, and his back seemed slightly hunched. "Tomorrow... I have to get up early. There's a lot to do."

The family got up silently. They moved carefully and quietly, afraid of disturbing the heavy silence and waking Zhuangzhuang, who had just fallen asleep.

In the cramped space, the sounds of washing up became exceptionally quiet. Soon, the lights went out.

Darkness descended like a heavy curtain in an instant.

Only the heavy breathing, the slight creaking of the bed when turning over, and the occasional gust of wind outside the window silently tell of the deep sorrow, the heavy decisions, and the meticulous planning for the unknown tomorrow in the dead of night in this Shikumen.

Tomorrow will be another silent battle.

……

The memorial service on the second day was solemn and dignified, carrying the simplicity and solemnity unique to this era.

A huge black-and-white portrait of Wang Jianjun hangs in front of the auditorium. His honest and simple face, with a slightly restrained smile, is forever frozen in the frame.

The wreaths stretched from inside the hall all the way to the outside, layer upon layer, with white paper flowers and ink-written elegiac couplets trembling slightly in the breeze.

The elegiac couplets read "Deepest condolences to Comrade Wang Jianjun," "His spirit of sacrificing himself in the line of duty will live on forever," and "A good son of the working class."

In addition to Ma Xiangwen, the deputy factory director in charge of safety, the top two leaders of Dongfang Machinery Factory—the Party official and the factory director—also came to the scene in person. They stood solemnly in front of the family members' line, shaking hands with each of them to express their deep condolences and sincere sympathy to the families.

This level of treatment was considered top-tier within the factory, silently confirming the determination that Wang Jianjun "died on duty" and the factory's level of attention to the matter, giving the Wang family ample face.

The mournful music lingered in the hall, its heavy, slow rhythm cutting into people's hearts like a dull knife.

Zhang Xiuying was being supported tightly by Li Guihua and Yang Guangming, one on each side. She was crying so hard that she could barely stand, with most of her weight resting on her son and daughter-in-law. Tears streamed down her face like a broken string of pearls, silently soaking her front.

Her grief was real, for the loss of a good son-in-law and for her daughter's tragic fate.

Yang Xianglan stood at the front of the family members' line, right next to Wang Jianjun's parents.

She was wearing a dark-colored dress that had been temporarily altered, so loose that it made her look even more emaciated.

His face was as pale as a crumpled and unfolded piece of paper, and his lips were dry, cracked, and bloodless.

She stared blankly at her husband's portrait, as if her soul had already gone with him.

The tears had long since dried up, leaving only a slight, uncontrollable tremor in the body, like the last withered leaf in the cold wind.

She was barely able to maintain her standing posture only because two female coworkers in work clothes supported her arms on either side.

Wang Jianjun's father, Master Wang, had become even more hunched over, tears streaming down his face as he sobbed silently.

His mother, Wang, was in a semi-conscious state, slumped in a wheelchair being pushed by a relative. Her head was tilted to one side, her eyes were closed, and only cloudy tears kept seeping from the corners of her eyes, sliding down her deep wrinkles.

She would occasionally let out a suppressed whimper, like that of a wounded animal.

Yang Guanghui and Yang Yongkang stood at the back of the family group.

Yang Guanghui's eyes were red-rimmed, and he struggled to hold back his tears, his chin clenched tightly.

Yang Yongkang stood silently, his back still straight, his face solemn with grief, his eyes lowered as he looked at the ground, as if he were bearing an invisible weight.

Li Guihua, who was beside him, was supporting her mother-in-law, looking tense and tired.

An overwhelming sadness permeated the entire auditorium, like a thick, sticky layer enveloping everyone. Low sobs and sighs rose and fell.

The eulogy was read by the factory's union leaders.

He stood in front of the microphone, his voice solemn and resonant, as he recounted Wang Jianjun's short but diligent life, his journey from apprentice to skilled technician, and highly praised his hardworking, down-to-earth, and helpful qualities as a member of the working class.

He emphasized the nature of the accident—an accident caused by someone else's serious violation of operating procedures; Comrade Wang Jianjun died in the line of duty while on duty.

He reiterated the factory's responsibility on behalf of the company, promised to handle the aftermath properly, take good care of the bereaved family, and called on all factory employees to learn from the experience and ensure safe production.

On behalf of the factory, Deputy Factory Director Ma Xiangwen approached the family members again, bowed deeply three times, and expressed his deepest apologies.

The farewell ceremony was brief and somber.

As the coffin was slowly pushed past, suppressed cries erupted instantly.

Yang Xianglan finally let out a hoarse, incoherent cry, trying to rush over, but was held back tightly by the people around her.

Wang struggled violently in her wheelchair, letting out desperate cries.

The final burial took place in a cemetery in the suburbs.

As the small, dark urn was gently placed into the cold grave and shovelful of yellow earth was poured over it, all of Yang Xianglan's strength seemed to vanish in an instant. She let out a heart-wrenching cry, collapsed onto the damp, fresh earth, and dug her fingers deep into the soil.

It took a lot of effort for everyone to help her up.

Wang's parents beat their chests and stomped their feet, crying so hard they fainted several times.

This final scene of life and death brought tears to the eyes of everyone present, who could hardly bear to watch.

Yang Guangming pursed his lips tightly, watching his older sister's breakdown, his heart felt as if it were being gripped tightly by an invisible hand.

Yang Yongkang turned his face away, his jawline taut like a rock.

After the funeral, waves of leaders, colleagues, and distant relatives who came to pay their respects left. The noise and extreme grief seemed to settle down temporarily as the crowd dispersed, leaving behind a deeper sense of emptiness and weariness.

In the end, only a few of Wang's closest relatives and the Yang family remained, and together they returned to the Wang family's shikumen house, located deep in a narrow alley, now filled with a heavy atmosphere of sorrow.

The small main room was packed with people, and the air felt somewhat stuffy.

The mourning hall had not yet been cleared away. Wang Jianjun's portrait stood silently watching everything in the flickering candlelight, while a few sticks of incense, almost burned out, remained in the incense burner.

The air was filled with the lingering smell of burning incense and candles, the odor of cheap cigarettes, and an indescribable, oppressive atmosphere of sadness and exhaustion.

The grief and exhaustion of the funeral over the past few days left everyone feeling drained, their expressions tired and numb, their eyes somewhat vacant.

Wang Jianjun's mother, surnamed Wang, was placed on a rattan chair. Her eyes were so swollen that they were only slits. She stared blankly at her son's portrait, unresponsive to the sounds around her, like an empty shell.

Yang Xianglan held the sleeping Amao in her arms and sat on an old rattan chair in the outer room.

Amao's little face was buried in his mother's arms, and he was sleeping relatively peacefully.

Three-year-old Honghong timidly nestled beside her mother's legs, her little hands tightly gripping her mother's trouser leg. Her big eyes were filled with fear and confusion. She didn't understand why so many people had come to the house these past few days, why everyone was crying, and why her father's photo, which was hanging on the wall, was no longer there.

Although she still looked haggard and as if she might break at any moment, compared to the complete breakdown of the previous two days, Yang Xianglan's eyes had a hint of empty calm, a kind of resigned and heavy weariness.

The burdens of life and two crying babies were like invisible whips, forcing her to struggle out of the abyss of despair and mechanically fulfill her responsibilities as a mother.

This stark clarity makes the grief concrete and heavy.

The Yang family members were also present.

Supported by Li Guihua, Zhang Xiuying sat on another chair, looking extremely weak and powerless, her eyes half-closed, as if she didn't even have the strength to lift her eyelids.

Yang Guangming and Yang Guanghui stood behind their father, Yang Yongkang, like two silent guardians.

Yang Yongkang stood against the wall, silently smoking, the smell of cheap tobacco filling the small space.

Amidst the swirling smoke, his gaze remained calm, but upon closer inspection, one could see that he was glancing at his daughter and wife from time to time, as if calculating the time and waiting for the opportune moment to "take his leave."

After a brief, suffocating silence, Wang Jianjun's father, Master Wang, an old worker with a hunched back who seemed to have aged ten years overnight, cleared his throat forcefully, his voice hoarse like sandpaper.

His bloodshot eyes swept heavily over his close relatives present, his gaze lingering for a moment, especially on his in-laws Yang Yongkang and his daughter-in-law Yang Xianglan.

His face bore a solemnity and weariness, as if he had to complete some kind of ritual.

“Today…” Master Wang’s voice was dry and tired, each word difficult to utter, “Jianjun’s funeral arrangements are… finished. He’s gone, he’s been laid to rest…” He swallowed hard, suppressing the sobs that welled up, “We who are alive, we still have to go on with our lives.”

He paused, his gaze falling on his daughter-in-law holding the child, his eyes filled with complex emotions—the endless grief of a parent outliving their child, the deep guilt and heartache for his daughter-in-law and her child, and a heavy entrustment concerning the future.

“Xianglan, Honghong, and Amao, from now on... from now on, the three of them will have to rely on themselves.” His voice was choked with emotion, but he tried to keep it clear. “The compensation terms from the factory were explained in detail by Director Ma and the others when they came to our house yesterday.”

He looked at Yang Yongkang and Zhang Xiuying, his tone suggesting a discussion:

"Since today, my in-laws and all my close relatives are here."

I want to make things clear to Xianglan and my in-laws in front of everyone.

This is no small matter; it concerns Xianglan and her two children's lives for the next ten years or so—it's the very foundation of their future.

He emphasized, "Let's lay everything out in the open and be completely honest, so that we won't cause any misunderstandings later... If Xianglan has any thoughts in her mind, or if our Wang family does anything wrong, then we can all feel at ease. When we're all family, we can be completely honest with each other."

His meaning was clear. The pension and those two precious job openings were the cornerstones supporting this broken family's future, but also a huge responsibility and a potential source of conflict.

He wanted to tell his daughter-in-law and in-laws the whole story in front of all his closest relatives, to show that the Wang family had no selfish motives and would not mistreat his daughter-in-law and grandchildren in the future. He hoped to gain the understanding and support of his wife's family and to reassure his daughter-in-law so that she could stay in the Wang family and raise the children with peace of mind.

The atmosphere in the room became even more tense, as if even the air had stopped moving.

Everyone knows that what we're about to talk about is something cold and real, about survival.

Yang Yongkang stubbed out his cigarette, looked calmly at Master Wang, prepared to listen attentively, and at the same time tensed up.

Zhang Xiuying also straightened up slightly, trying to concentrate.

Yang Guangming observed everyone's expressions discreetly, especially the eldest sister's reaction.

Yang Xianglan unconsciously tightened her grip on the child, and a complex expression of focus and bewilderment seemed to appear in her empty eyes.

Li Guihua supported her mother-in-law, her palms slightly sweaty, silently reciting the "lines" she had prepared in advance, waiting for the moment of "farewell" to arrive.

Master Wang took a deep breath, as if gathering his last bit of strength, and began to recount the compensation plan offered by the factory.

His voice was slow and clear as he tried to recall every detail and every number the factory leaders had mentioned yesterday, as if afraid of missing anything crucial...

(End of this chapter)