Eighties Sweetheart Wife
Chapter 253 Really Dares to Think of Anything_1

Chapter 253: Chapter 253 Really Dares to Think of Anything_1

Song Mingbo, having completed his mental preparation, asked Asheng to go to the backyard and call Grandma over to have dinner at Granny’s place.

He also went to ask Sun Zhiqing if he wanted to join them for the meal.

Sun Zhiqing, "I won’t go. I still need to review."

Song Mingbo, "That’s fine, I’ll bring some over for you later."

He was set to take the college entrance exams next year, and high school was still a two-year system at the time.

It felt like there was so much he hadn’t learned yet.

Song Mingbo clapped his hands, right, his uncle could tutor him.

Thus, he grew increasingly fond of Xia Xindong.

The Song family set up two tables that evening.

They simply invited Branch Secretary Guan, Old Man Sun, and Accountant Li as well.

The clothing factory was about to be established, and for the time being, it was planned to be affiliated with the collective, so it was essential to get the village onboard properly.

Men at one table and women at another.

Midway through the meal, Chu Zizhou drove over to pick up Song Ting.

She also came with big and small bags in tow.

Seeing so many people at home, Song Ting truly hadn’t expected it, and the crowd greeted her warmly.

They even called her a great singer.

In a flurry, Song Ting waved her hands, "I’m just an ordinary member of the cultural troupe, I dare not be called that."

On the other side, Old Mrs. Song glared at Old Man Sun, "What nonsense are you shouting? She’s just an office worker, who happens to sing in tune. Don’t go calling her names. If someone hears and ends up firing my Tingting, Old Man Sun, I’ll have it out with you!"

Everyone burst into hearty laughter.

Afterward, Song Ting and Xia Xindong were introduced to the relatives present.

Having heard from Chu Zizhou, Song Ting greeted everyone with a smile, after which Chu Zizhou took a seat next to Xia Xindong, who casually poured him a drink.

Chu Zizhou glanced at Xia Xindong.

His feelings were complicated.

Gu Huai’an was already demonically talented, and this one wasn’t far behind—the speed at which he absorbed knowledge was also too fast.

Reading the newspaper was truly just a quick scan for him.

Chu Zizhou, holding his cup with both hands, nodded and thanked Xia Xindong.

At Song Ting’s table, there were women and children, none of whom drank.

Once full, they left the table.

Old Mrs. Song didn’t often see Xia Xindong; today was the closest she had ever been to him.

Handsome with a warm and gentle demeanor.

She felt sorry for him.

If he hadn’t been sold to Xiangjiang, perhaps he could have become a high-ranking official by now; some people are naturally endowed with presence.

Just sitting there, he looked grounded and composed.

Old Mrs. Song’s mind was exceptionally active; if Xia Xindong were a little younger, she mused, he might well have been a good match for Tingting.

Not to mention anything else, Zhu Feng was such a wonderful person.

Having her as a daughter-in-law would mean a lifetime free of mother-in-law and daughter-in-law issues.

She was a mother-in-law herself, but far from Zhu Feng’s caliber.

And Guo Xia was quite the sly one.

Seemingly agreeable from all angles, but when it came to turning on you, it could happen in the blink of an eye.

Actually, according to her, it’s better when families are well-matched.

No messy business.

Ah, Old Mrs. Song felt she was simply going mad, day by day, daring to think about anything.

But then again, such occurrences were common in the countryside; for example, Ye Juan from the village married Zhao Zhiguo, and then her cousin married Zhao Zhiguo’s cousin.

The two families got along very well.

The lands of the two families were right next to each other; they worked the fields together and took care of each other. Even when weaving straw hats in their free time, they did it together.

Old Mrs. Song listened as Chu Zizhou said, "The money for the straw hats has been deposited. I’ll withdraw it tomorrow and distribute it among the families, using the same prices as before."

Old Mrs. Song pursed her lips as she listened.

That’s nice, more money coming in.

Standing next to her, Zhu Feng finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Her son had been kept isolated since he was young; he hadn’t seen normal people, didn’t understand the ways of the world or how to behave in society, and she had always been worried that he wouldn’t know how to interact with others.

But actually, she had been worrying unnecessarily.

Her son was doing quite well.

Though he wasn’t talkative, he didn’t lack any of the necessary manners.

Quietly, she wiped away a tear.

Meanwhile, Song Yunuan handed them each a jar of Snow Flower Cream: "You can use this on your face or hands. Go ahead and use it, don’t be stingy. When it’s gone, I’ll buy you more."

This Snow Flower Cream came in a big jar, heavy to hold. Zhu Feng tried to refuse, "Little Nuan, Granny still has some, you don’t need to give it to me."

Old Mrs. Song rolled her eyes and stuffed the Snow Flower Cream into Zhu Feng’s hands, "If I give it to you, just take it. You don’t want this or that, are you worried I’ll get angry? Am I, Old Mrs. Song, such a petty person? We have gotten along well in the past, and now we live in the same village, we are even closer. Little Nuan is my granddaughter, and she is your granddaughter-in-law. We ought to accept children’s filial piety, otherwise, wouldn’t it be in vain for Little Nuan’s kindness?"

Song Yunuan hugged Old Mrs. Song, resting her chin on her shoulder, "My grandma speaks so well. Granny, don’t be modest."

Old Mrs. Song actually felt a touch of jealousy—would Little Nuan include Zhu Feng in every purchase from now on?

But that was not an argument she could make.

How could she argue when Little Nuan was raised in someone else’s home?

Now, in Little Nuan’s heart, just three months ago, she and Zhu Feng, along with Old Mrs. Song, were all strangers.

It was a blessing that they could get along so well now, thanks to the blood relationship.

So, her feelings towards her grandma and Granny were the same.

Old Mrs. Song suddenly felt a sense of crisis.

No, she had to treat Little Nuan even better; she was determined to surpass Mrs. Zhu.

With this thought, Old Mrs. Song found new energy.

Little Nuan was going to the county town tomorrow, she would leave early. Zhu Feng didn’t know, so Old Mrs. Song had to prepare something for Little Nuan to eat in the morning.

Old Mrs. Song quietly contemplated what delicious thing to make tomorrow morning.

At that moment, Song Yunuan subtly checked her uncle’s state, feeling unexpectedly puzzled.

Even if her uncle had strong learning capabilities, he shouldn’t have been this effortlessly comfortable.

Then she wondered, was she thinking too much?

After all, her uncle was already an adult, and even if he had a special upbringing, he shouldn’t exhibit any inappropriate behaviors.

He was just a normal person who could quickly fit into the surrounding environment.

Yet, even so, after dinner, Song Yunuan still followed them back to the educated youth spot.

She took Little Asheng with her, claiming it was to help digest the food.

Little Asheng sighed, "There was a time when Granny, in order to prevent me from getting hungry too quickly, would make me sleep, saying that children grow taller the more they sleep. But now, just as I’ve finally eaten my fill, I have to ’digest’ it too. Where’s the sense in that?"

Everyone burst into laughter.

Chu Zizhou was especially fond of Asheng and picked him up in one swift motion, "You’re right, just when you’re starting to put on a little weight. But sister has a point—’walk a hundred steps after a meal, live to ninety-nine’ after all."

Little Asheng said, "I do wish to live a long life. Ah, by the time I’m ninety-nine, it will be the year 2079."

Little Asheng envisioned eagerly, "What will it be like then?"

Song Mingbo said, "Surely there will be multi-story buildings with electric lights and telephones everywhere, and the Four Modernizations will have long been achieved."

Song Yunuan, however, went to look at her uncle.

It was now past eight o’clock in the evening. Night had just fallen—an amiable moonlight gently poured down, gracing her uncle’s face and making his expression seem even more tender.

A gentle smile lingered at the corners of his mouth.

Yet his hands were clenched tightly together, seemingly trembling slightly.

Was he struggling to endure something?

What was her uncle enduring?