Chapter 69

Chapter 69: Soothing Someone
“Elder brother, you’re still laughing,” Qin Hui Yin muttered once Li Tao Hua was safely out of earshot. “When my mom gets angry, she’s really scary, okay?”

Tang Yi Chen’s eyes crinkled. “She loves you. No matter what you say, she won’t truly be angry.”

“She won’t be angry,” Qin Hui Yin said quietly, “but she’ll be hurt.” She scraped a bit of old straw aside, hands moving even as her thoughts wandered. “That’s how women are. If someone unimportant hurts you, if you can beat them, you beat them. If you can’t, you curse them. If even that doesn’t work, you find a way to get back at them. But if the person you care about hurts you…” She paused, voice dropping. “You only look for reasons in yourself, until the last bit of hope is worn away.”

Tang Yi Chen’s expression shifted, complicated in a way that didn’t show up often on his face yet.

“I only want to see my mom happy,” Qin Hui Yin finished. “I can’t bear to see her angry.”

“It’s good,” Tang Yi Chen said after a moment, softer than before. “The way you keep it like this.”

That night, Li Tao Hua made chive-and-egg stir-fry, mushrooms stir-fried with pork, and a tofu soup. She wrapped her hair in cloth so it wouldn’t catch grease.

Tang Da Fu sat by the stove, keeping the fire going. When Li Tao Hua carried the dishes out, he’d already served rice for everyone. The children washed their hands and gathered around the table, and for a fleeting moment the scene almost looked like what a warm home was supposed to be.

Li Tao Hua and Tang Da Fu sat at the head of the table. Qin Hui Yin sat to Li Tao Hua’s left. Tang Yi Chen sat to Tang Da Fu’s right, so Qin Hui Yin and Tang Yi Chen faced each other.

Tang Lu Wu sat beside Qin Hui Yin. Tang Yi Xiao sat beside Tang Yi Chen.

The arrangement said everything without anyone speaking: who mattered most, who held weight, who stood where in the family now.

Li Tao Hua looked at Qin Hui Yin expectantly.

Qin Hui Yin lifted her chopsticks toward a mushroom—then realized no one else had started. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, genuinely confused.

“Auntie Li is waiting for you to judge her cooking,” Tang Yi Chen said, lips curved.

“Does my mom’s cooking need judging?” Qin Hui Yin popped the mushroom into her mouth, chewed, and gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “So good. Mom is amazing.”

Li Tao Hua snorted. “I knew better than to expect a single honest word from that mouth of yours.” She waved her chopsticks like a commander. “Eat already. I can’t count on her. You all tell me how it is.”

Tang Yi Chen set down his chopsticks as if he were about to compose an essay. “The mushrooms’ freshness and the pork’s perfect mix of fat and lean go together beautifully. The mushrooms carry the meat’s aroma, and the meat carries the mushrooms’ fragrance—it’s just right.” His gaze slid to the soup. “The tofu soup is light, scallions floating on top like clear mountains and green waters—elegant and delicious.” Then he nodded toward the eggs. “And these eggs are fried a rich golden color. I remember little sister’s eggs last time weren’t this golden. It shows Auntie Li’s skill is even better.”

Tang Lu Wu’s cheeks flushed. “Mom, it’s really good.”

Tang Yi Xiao didn’t bother with words. He took a piece of pork and chewed with wholehearted devotion.

Li Tao Hua brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, looking pleased in spite of herself. “As long as it’s not bad, then eat more.”

Across the table, Qin Hui Yin met Tang Yi Chen’s eyes and, when Li Tao Hua wasn’t looking, gave him a quick thumbs-up.

Tang Yi Chen understood.

Earlier, Qin Hui Yin had said that when Li Tao Hua’s mood teetered, praise was the safest bridge back. Qin Hui Yin had assumed he wouldn’t bother—Tang Yi Chen didn’t usually care about Li Tao Hua’s feelings.

Yet he’d used it immediately, and not with exaggerated acting the way Qin Hui Yin did, but with calm sincerity that somehow sounded even more convincing. No wonder Li Tao Hua couldn’t stop her lips from curling.

After dinner, Tang Da Fu took the bowls and washed them without being asked.

The rest of them lit candles, closed the door, pulled out the money box, and began counting.

“These copper coins add up to six taels and 225 wen,” Tang Yi Chen said, writing neatly in the ledger.

“And add these.” Qin Hui Yin placed the silver Ying Hai had given her on the table. “There was a smaller piece too, but I used it to buy new spices. Elder brother, record the profit first. The two pieces of silver add up to eight taels.”

“Eight taels?” Li Tao Hua’s eyes went wide. “There were too many people earlier, and you took money so fast I didn’t look carefully. This one is five taels… and the other is three?”

“Yep.” Qin Hui Yin nodded. “I used some of it to buy things. Those spices cost more than two taels of silver in total.”

Tang Yi Chen did the math without hesitation. “Six taels and 225 wen in copper, plus eight taels in silver—that makes 14 taels and 250 wen.” He flipped a page. “Now subtract the costs. Subtract what you spent on spices…”

“And subtract another 230 wen,” Qin Hui Yin said, not flinching. “I lent it to someone. One hundred wen counts as my own spending—record it under my account and deduct it from my wages. The remaining 130 wen goes under ‘lent out.’”

Li Tao Hua’s glare landed like a slap. “You spent it on Song Rui Ze?”

Qin Hui Yin touched her cheek, as if the heat there might soften. “He’s working at the Dam Worksite now. He’ll face danger often. I wanted him to keep a bottle of wound medicine.” She held Li Tao Hua’s gaze. “At a critical moment, it could save his life.”

Li Tao Hua sighed, the anger draining into something tired. “Why are you so concerned about him?” Then she waved it away, as if arguing further would only make her throat sore. “Forget it. Treat it as paying back his father’s kindness. Back then, his father treated you pretty well.”

Tang Da Fu came back after washing the dishes. He sat beside Li Tao Hua, lips pursed, sneaking glances at her like he wanted to speak but didn’t know where to put his hands.

Li Tao Hua turned her head slightly. “What are you looking at? Is today the first day you found out I’ve been married before?”

“There’s no need to bring it up again.” Tang Da Fu’s protest came out weak. “He’s gone. Why keep mentioning him?”

“If I don’t mention him, does he stop existing?” Li Tao Hua’s tone sharpened. “You mind me bringing him up so much—is it me who can’t let go, or you who can’t let go?” Her eyes narrowed. “When you wanted to marry me, I told you from the start I was a widow. You should’ve thought it through before marrying me.”

“I was wrong,” Tang Da Fu said immediately, the words tumbling over each other. “I was petty.”

The children stared hard at the ledger as if the ink might swallow them.

Tang Yi Chen calmly slid the conversation back where it belonged. “After deducting expenses and the money lent out, the net profit is 11 taels and 782 wen.” He looked up. “Added to what we already had, our household savings are now a little over 24 taels.”

Qin Hui Yin leaned in, eyes scanning the neat columns. “Keep the whole number, pay out wages, and split the rest by headcount!”

Tang Yi Chen had no objections. He listed the remainder, paid everyone’s wages first, and then pushed 10 wen toward Tang Da Fu.

Tang Da Fu froze. “I get some too?”

“You did chores today,” Tang Yi Chen said evenly. “You weren’t idle. You contributed to this household, so of course you get wages. Wages aren’t only for helping with business. Anyone who contributes should get wages. Of course,” he added, precise as always, “those who worked harder should receive more.”

Tang Da Fu picked up the coins as if they were hot, then shoved them toward Li Tao Hua. “Wife, you keep it. All my money is wife’s.”

Li Tao Hua took it without hesitation. The candlelight flickered over the ledger, over the coins, over the tired faces around the table—twisted together now, for better or worse, into one rope.