The New Era of Marriage for the Post-80s Generation

Chapter 3: A Spark or a Shot in the Arm

Chapter 3: A Spark or a Shot in the Arm Over the weekend, Liu Yiyang and I took Jinjin back to my parents’ house. This was the first time we’d taken her to her maternal grandparents’ home since she was born. Just before we left, Jinjin was still in my mother-in-law’s arms, and she’d been nagging for a full twenty minutes: “Be careful, and make sure the little one is bundled up tight.” “It’s too cold out today. You really shouldn’t take her with you. Come back early, too—the little one can’t sleep soundly unless I’m holding her.” My father-in-law couldn’t stand it anymore. He pulled his dark red woolen hat over his head and stepped out the door before us, muttering, “She really does get more talkative as she gets older.” The image of that young woman in the dark green overcoat floated before my eyes—she certainly wasn’t old. Liu Yiyang hailed a cab and waited at the building entrance. I hopped in, holding Jinjin, who was wrapped up like a bundle of bedding. Her pair of dark, shining eyes darted around; this was her first outing other than trips to the hospital for shots and checkups, and it truly filled her with excitement. As for me, I felt an overwhelming sense of fulfillment. Holding her felt just as sweet as when I’d carried her in my womb—as if she and I were one, and nothing in the world could ever tear us apart. Nine out of ten Beijing taxi drivers are chatty by nature, and the one in front of me was no exception. “How old is the little one?” ““Boy or girl?” “How’s it going? Raising a child isn’t easy, is it? Do you have elderly relatives at home to help out? Yes, having them makes a big difference.” “Kids these days are more precious than ever. Back in our day, we’d feed them when they were hungry and put them to sleep when they were full. But look at these little darlings today—they’re being given brain-boosting supplements before their eyes are even open. Hey, do you give her any of that stuff?” We finally arrived at the bottom of my mom’s building. As the driver collected the fare, he turned around and gave me a once-over: “Young lady, you really need to lose some weight. Don’t neglect yourself just because you’ve had a baby. Let me tell you, my wife used to be one of the ‘Five Beauties’ at her workplace, but ever since she had a baby, she’s been stuffing her face and turned into a tree. My kid’s eight this year, and she just keeps getting heavier every year. Whenever I tell her to lose weight, she yells at me, saying she worked so hard to have my child, and in the end, I’m complaining about her weight. You’d better not follow her example.” Facing this driver who’d called me fat and seemed so worried about it, I stood there with a livid face, unsure whether to punch him or thank him. Just then, Liu Yiyang spoke up: “Bro, don’t worry. No matter how fat she gets, I’ll still love her.” Just like that, my livid face turned red. Was Liu Yiyang just looking for trouble? Whether he loves me or not, what business is it of the driver’s? And “put my mind at ease”? What on earth does that have to do with anything? After we got out of the car, Liu Yiyang took Jinjin from me. “You must be tired. Just think about it—my mom works really hard too, doesn’t she?” I shook my arms. “I think you’re pretty good at seizing every opportunity to make a point.” “Jiaqian, I’ll stay for a little while and then leave. I’ll come back to pick you up around four or five this afternoon.” Liu Yiyang didn’t mention his mother again. “Why? I stay at your place day and night without end, but the moment I come to ours, it’s like I’ve got a thorn in my side?” Liu Yiyang never stayed long at my place, but this was the first time he’d left without even eating lunch. “You know how it is—my mother-in-law can’t stand the sight of me these days. Besides, being cooped up in such a big house puts pressure on me.” ” “Here we go again. I don’t mind that your place is small, but you’re always complaining that mine is too big.” “Do you really not mind that my place is small? To be honest, wasn’t that the reason you brought up divorce?” “Liu Yiyang, don’t twist my words. I want a divorce because of the way you treat me—because you can’t even see how I’m suffering, let alone do anything about it.” I stopped in my tracks, determined to have a frank talk with him first. But he brushed me off: “All right, all right, let’s not talk about it. You’ve finally made it home; don’t let me ruin your mood.” My dad opened the door. He was wearing a white shirt and a dark gray wool vest, and he said to Liu Yiyang, “Come on in, come on in.” Meanwhile, I rolled my eyes at him: “What’s with that? What kind of father-in-law says ‘please’ to his son-in-law every single day?” That’s my dad for you. He’s been in diplomacy for thirty-six years, and now he’s so polite and meticulous all the time, as if he’s about to meet with a foreign prime minister. Ever since I was twenty and brought my boyfriend Liu Yiyang home—when he told him “Please sit down” and “Please have some water”—right up until I turned twenty-five and brought my husband Liu Yiyang home, he’s still been saying “Please.” No wonder Liu Yiyang feels the pressure; if it were me, I’d probably consider whether I should wear a tie when meeting this old gentleman. My mom is also a civil servant working for the country, though the family planning sector she’s in is nowhere near as grand and imposing as my dad’s diplomatic career, so she’s a bit more laid-back than he is. She took Jinjin from Liu Yiyang’s arms and, as she walked into the house, chattered away: ““Little Princess Jinjin, are you having fun at Grandma’s house? Grandma’s place is so small—we’ve really made you feel cramped. Come on, roll around on Grandma’s big bed.” To my ears, these words from my kind-hearted but sharp-tongued mother didn’t carry any serious malice. At most, she was simply letting her sense of superiority run wild, deliberately showing off in front of Liu Yiyang and Liu Jin, the two members of the Liu family. But to Liu Yiyang, it sounded like my mom was targeting him, looking down on him, and going out of her way every day to embarrass him—even disregarding his dignity as a man, a husband, and a father. At times like these, I could truly understand the awkward position Liu Yiyang found himself in, caught between me and his mother. On one side was the great mother who gave birth to and raised me; on the other was the partner he had known and stood by all these years. That was what it truly meant to be caught between a rock and a hard place. Come to think of it, as Liu Yiyang and I progressed from dating to marriage, the shift in my family’s view of him and the shift in the Liu family’s view of me, Tong Jiaqian, both followed the same downward trajectory. The Liu family disliked that I had, from the very start with the college entrance exam, derailed Liu Yiyang’s promising future; they disliked my “open-minded” lifestyle and the fact that I was pregnant before marriage. As for the other two elders in the family—excluding my mother-in-law—they disliked even more that my child was a girl. As a result, their opinion of me as their granddaughter-in-law has plummeted like a slide. As for our family’s dissatisfaction with Liu Yiyang, it boiled down to the fact that his academic achievements didn’t shine as brightly as mine, nor was his career as successful. Time was flying by, yet our standard of living remained stagnant. I pretended nothing was wrong and followed my mother back into the room. Jinjin was already sprawled out on my parents’ massive 1. 8-by-2-meter bed. The bed was so enormous that it made Jinjin’s already quite sturdy frame look like a piece of driftwood floating on the ocean. With wide, dazed eyes, she deftly rolled over onto her stomach, as if swimming the breaststroke across the sea. “Mom, you need to watch what you say from now on.” Since I wasn’t planning to divorce Liu Yiyang just yet, I had to keep defending him, lest his sensitive little heart suffer a severe blow at my parents’ house and he end up bringing up divorce himself. “Watch what?” My mom didn’t even look at me as she pushed Jinjin’s little feet with her hand, as if she couldn’t wait for her to start crawling at such a young age. “Watch what you say. Don’t always talk down to Liu Yiyang.” I said, as I gathered up the layers of clothes I’d wrapped Jinjin in. “What’s gotten into you? You’re siding with the outsider. I’m just speaking up for you—it’s not fair to you.” “How is that siding with the enemy? He’s my husband. To put it bluntly, he’s my primary legal heir now. If I were to pass away today, he’d inherit all my assets. I’m living the life of a goddess here—what’s there to feel wronged about?” “Fine, I guess I raised you for nothing.” My mom flung her hand about and stormed out of the room. I picked up Jinjin and followed her out. In the living room, my dad was sitting on an elegant rosewood sofa with Liu Yiyang, discussing topics that were as formal as could be: “How’s work been lately?” “Oh, pretty good.” “How’s your health been lately?” “Oh, pretty good too.” My mom strode through the living room with a stern expression, heading straight for the study. Liu Yiyang seized the moment and sat up straight: “Mom, um, I’m working overtime today, so I won’t be staying for lunch. I’ll come back this afternoon to pick up Jiaqian.” My mom’s feet moved as if wound up like a clock, not pausing even once: “Do you get overtime pay? Never mind, it probably isn’t much anyway.” ” With that, she turned into the study—proof enough that she didn’t expect Liu Yiyang to respond. Liu Yiyang didn’t let his butt touch that uncomfortable rosewood sofa again. As he gave my dad a polite nod and headed for the front door, I hurriedly carried Jinjin back to the center of the big bed, then ran after him: ““Hey, are you really just going to walk out like that? It’s not like you just met my mom yesterday—is it really necessary to be so petty? I put up with your mom every day, don’t I?” “Heh,” Liu Yiyang laughed, though it sounded more like a sob. “I’m leaving so your mom doesn’t have to put up with me anymore. Go back now. You guys should spend some time together as a family.” In that instant, my heart felt as if it were riddled with holes and soaked in saltwater. Yes, the man standing before me wasn’t particularly outstanding or wealthy, but I had watched him live his life with diligence and focus, day after day. He didn’t smoke, didn’t drink to excess, and never played cards for money. He wasn’t picky about food or clothes; whatever I bought for him, he used. Though he didn’t like reading books, he enjoyed reading newspapers, and over time, he’d become reasonably well-read. Most importantly, before he turned twenty-four, he treated money like dirt. But after marrying me, Tong Jiaqian, at twenty-four, he began to yearn desperately for wealth—and the driving force behind this was none other than me, and our little Jinjin. Though, in this short year, the savings from his monthly salary alone are hardly enough to amass what is called “wealth,” he has truly tried his best. But perhaps I am the only one who values his efforts; my mother, and even Chen Jiaojiao, care only about the results. If Liu Yiyang had quickly left my sight at that moment, I think I would have remained immersed in a bittersweet sense of happiness for a long time afterward—saddened that my man wasn’t accepted by my closest family and friends, yet happy that he belonged to me. Unfortunately, seeing the melancholy on my face, Liu Yiyang couldn’t help but hold me tightly, and just then, his phone vibrated. My hand was far too close to the pocket of his pants—far too close to the source of the vibration—so I reached in and pulled out his phone for him. A single, unconscious glance at the screen determined the rest of my day’s anxiety. The call was from Sun Xiaorou. That day, Liu Yiyang had holed up in the bathroom to call Sun Xiaorou back and tell her to “be a good girl.” Aside from venting my frustration in a roundabout way, I took no further action—I didn’t ask him outright if he’d been unfaithful, nor did I secretly gather information about Sun Xiaorou. This was partly because, as a woman of the new era who considers herself quite well-educated, I am not inclined to lower myself at the drop of a hat to discuss issues of “Chen Shimei” or “divorced women” with my husband. Secondly, based on my understanding of Liu Yiyang,I was absolutely certain that even if he’d recently harbored some mischievous intentions, he didn’t yet have the nerve to act on them. In other words, before I left the Liu household, he wouldn’t do anything truly reckless. And today, this Sun Xiaorou has come to pick a fight with the dragon. I pinched Liu Yiyang’s phone between my thumb and index finger. “Can you answer that in front of me?” If he dared to say even a single “no,” my finger would “accidentally” twitch, and that modern technological device in my hand—which only encourages immoral behavior—would clatter to the floor, ending its sinful life. “Of course I can.” Liu Yiyang feigned the confidence of someone who has nothing to hide. “Hello, Xiaorou.” “Did President Song say that?” “Okay, okay, I was actually planning to head to the office anyway.” ““Okay, I’ll be right there.” Liu Yiyang spoke with utter seriousness in every one of those four sentences—a complete contrast to the tone he’d used that day when he said “I’ll be good.” It seems that, as his wife, I still have some power to keep him in check. At least for now, he can’t get away with misbehaving right under my nose. “I really can’t have lunch here this time—there’s a meeting at the office.” Even after finishing his call with Xiaoyao, Liu Yiyang still had the nerve to pull me into his arms. “The on-air announcement—and you’re having a meeting backstage?” I dared to question, trying to verify the truth. “Didn’t I tell you? The company launched a new show, and Xiaoyao is one of the hosts. Today, General Manager Song called a meeting for everyone involved in the show—both on-air and off-air.” I had nothing to say, so I could only watch Liu Yiyang’s back grow smaller and smaller as he walked away. His left shoulder is slightly lower than his right. According to him, that’s because during his senior year of high school, he always used his left shoulder to carry the heavy backpacks for both of us, while using his right hand to hold mine. When he told me this, I once suggested, “Then in the future, you should use your right shoulder to carry the child’s backpack—it’ll balance out eventually.” But if we get divorced, when the day comes that Jinjin needs to carry a backpack, where will Liu Yiyang be? He’ll probably have long since written us off as a thing of the past, won’t he? When I walked back into the house, Jinjin was wailing in her grandmother’s arms, while her grandfather stood nearby asking her grandmother, “What’s wrong with the child? “Is she feeling unwell? I don’t remember Jiaqian crying like this when she was little.” Her grandmother shot her grandfather a withering look: “Weren’t you off socializing all over the place when Jiaqian was little? How would you know if she was crying or not?” I took Jinjin into my arms and nudged my father toward the door: “She’s hungry. Please step outside so I can breastfeed her.” The biggest advantage of having a spacious house is that it spares me from having to bare my chest in front of any man other than my husband. I ushered my dad out of his bedroom. He was free to watch TV in the living room, brew some tea in the dining room, lie down in the guest room, surf the web in the study, or even swing his golf clubs in the recreation room—rather than standing by the kitchen window brooding like my father-in-law. In this house, my parents had even set aside a room for Liu Yiyang and me, furnishing it with a bed, a wardrobe, a TV, and a phone. Unfortunately, to spare Liu Yiyang’s feelings, the number of times we’ve spent the night here could be counted on one hand. Jinjin seemed restless at my nipple—she’d latch on for a moment, then let go, not gulping down milk like she used to when she was hungry. Hearing her wails, I grew just as anxious: “Mom, she doesn’t seem hungry. What’s going on?” Next, my mom and I teamed up, pulling out all the stops to soothe her—lifting her high, singing nursery rhymes, playing peek-a-boo. I even imitated the sounds of pigs and donkeys, but to no avail. Jinjin ignored us completely, crying so hard it seemed she could shake the heavens and move the spirits. Drenched in sweat, I listened to her wails, my ears ringing. Then I heard my mom ask me, “Hey, Jiaqian, do you think she’s calling for Grandma?” I fell completely silent, listening closely to Jinjin’s cries. Sure enough, she wasn’t just wailing—she was babbling “na-na-na,” which sounded exactly like the word “Grandma.” I plopped down on the bed, staring blankly ahead. Seeing this, my mom immediately backtracked: “Oh my, I’m getting so forgetful. A child this little wouldn’t know how to call out to anyone yet. Besides, even if she could, wouldn’t she call out ‘Mommy’ first? There’s no one better than a mother in this world.” “No,” I muttered to myself, “in Jinjin’s eyes, Grandma is closer to her than I am.” At that moment, I suddenly felt an overwhelming longing for Liu Yiyang. I was overcome by an impulse to call him right away and have him come to me immediately. I wanted him to see this little life that had grown inside me for 280 days—a life that had caused me to vomit incessantly, suffer from aching lower back and swollen legs, move clumsily, and lie awake all night—and who was finally born with a gush of amniotic fluid and blood, accompanied by my heart-wrenching screams—how this little life had now cast me aside. I wanted him to see how his hardworking mother had made Jinjin indifferent to my embrace and comfort whenever she wasn’t hungry. Then I would throw myself into his arms and weep, telling him, “If I had to choose between you and Jinjin, I would choose my Jinjin.” In the end, I didn’t call Liu Yiyang—who was in a meeting—to come see me, because I could tell even with my toes that if he really came, he’d surely say I was making a mountain out of a molehill, or even accuse me of confusing right and wrong, imagining my mother-in-law’s kindness and selflessness as an attempt to tear our family apart. That’s for sure. Besides, right now, he’s sitting across from Sun Xiaorou—with her almond-shaped eyes and willowy figure. If I really called him back, wouldn’t that be utterly heartless? Jinjin finally cried herself out, exhausted to the point where all that remained was heavy, labored breathing. Her pitiful appearance, with tears brimming at her lashes, made my heart twist into a crumpled ball. I held her in my arms—she had no strength left to resist—and my heart felt both bitter and aching. My mother sighed repeatedly from the side: “Ah, you really need to get closer to the child. Otherwise, if she doesn’t bond with you, it’ll be truly heartbreaking.” With that, my mother finally came around to my way of thinking: when it came to Jinjin, the help my mother-in-law offered me had both pros and cons—and the cons actually outweighed the pros. My maternity leave ended just as Jinjin turned four months old. The day before I returned to work, I took Liu Yiyang to the wedding of one of my college classmates. Chen Jiaojiao was there too, but the man she brought wasn’t Cui Bin, who had been with her for four or five years. The bride was a classmate of both Chen Jiaojiao and me; her name was Jin Yuyu—a name that sounded as grand as it was luxurious. Back in school, Jin Yu was a quiet, unremarkable girl—average grades, a bit plump, with a round face, fair skin, and delicate features. But now, after three years of navigating the real world, she was more stylish than Chen Jiaojiao and half as slender as Tong Jiaqian. To put it simply, just looking at the hollow of her collarbones peeking out from her off-the-shoulder gown, you could probably pour the entire glass of champagne she was holding right into them. The wedding was an unprecedentedly grand affair; otherwise, Chen Jiaojiao and I—mere acquaintances who, despite having been classmates for four years, had exchanged no more than forty words—wouldn’t have shown up. The wedding cars were all Mercedes-Benzes—I didn’t even bother counting how many there were. The banquet was held in the Cantonese restaurant of a five-star hotel. The vast banquet hall stretched from one end to the other, with tables draped in golden tablecloths. Without even mentioning the other dishes, the main course—abalone rice—alone made the trip worthwhile for Liu Yiyang and me. As for me, the mother, I said to Liu Yiyang, the father, “We’re heading straight home after this. I’ll let Jinjin taste some abalone-flavored milk.” Jinyu kept changing her dresses endlessly—alternating between Chinese and Western styles, in every color and variety imaginable. It was all so dazzling I couldn’t tell what, if anything, of the original Jinyu remained. The groom, Tang Mingqing, wasn’t Chinese, nor was he of Asian descent; he was an African American. Tang Mingqing was his Chinese name, and like Jin Yu’s, it had a distinctly classical feel. Apparently, he was a research scientist stationed at a Chinese factory by a well-known American pharmaceutical company, and Jin Yu was his research assistant. Jin Yu and Tang Mingqing were inseparable; they looked as if they were made for each other. Chen Jiaojiao sat to my right, staring at the table full of dishes and swallowing hard. “Do you think I should put my diet on hold for today?” “No,” I replied decisively, my chopsticks still in motion. “The food is great, but the portions are small. With one less mouth to feed, we can each have an extra bite.” “Hey, Tong Jiaqian, if you ask me, you’re the one who needs to lose weight more than I do.” “Why would I want to lose weight? What’s the point of getting as skinny as Jin Yu—skin and bones, ready to topple over in a breeze?” “Haven’t you seen the benefits yet? It’s right there in plain sight! Did you see the diamond on her ring? It’s as big as the nail on my thumb. Now look at that line of cars outside, look at everything around us—oh, and what’s on your plate and in your mouth—aren’t those all the benefits?” “So you’re saying that once a woman gets skinny, she can live a life of luxury?” “Hmm, from a certain perspective, that’s exactly right. Just look at Jin Yu—she’s a living example. I just don’t believe that if she’d still looked as clueless as she did back in school, she’d have been able to land such a rich husband. She’d probably have ended up marrying someone worse off than you.” As Chen Jiaojiao’s words reached my ears, they also passed me by and reached Liu Yiyang, who was sitting to my left. Using the tablecloth as cover, I gave Chen Jiaojiao a hard kick. Only then did she press her lips together and glance nervously at Liu Yiyang, whose back had gone rigid, like a startled little bird: “Liu Yiyang, don’t take it the wrong way. I’m not saying anything bad about you. You know I just speak without thinking. Don’t give me that look.” “It’s fine,” Liu Yiyang said, raising his scarred left eyebrow. “I’m used to it.” Seeing my chance, I quickly changed the subject: “Hey, Jiaojiao, where’s Cui Bin?” I spoke so softly that my words would never reach the ears of the man sitting next to her. Chen Jiaojiao had already introduced him to me earlier: Huang Youwei, a wallpaper dealer. As for their relationship, she’d been vague: “A friend of mine.” “He’s off to Sichuan on another field trip,” Chen Jiaojiao rolled her eyes and concluded, “He’s always running around.” “Come on, he’s a geologist. If he doesn’t go on field trips, does he just stay cooped up at home studying marble floors?” “Tong Jiaqian, you really do him a disservice. A geologist? I don’t think he’ll ever earn that title until he’s fifty or sixty. As of now, he’s just a geological researcher. “Huh? Tell me this: Tang Mingqing’s so rich from researching medicine, so why is he so broke studying rocks?” “Okay, okay, cut it out. I’m tired of your nonsense. Hurry up, pick up your chopsticks and eat.” I spoke up rather loudly, so Huang Youwei humbly served Chen Jiaojiao two bites of sea cucumber: ““Right, right, you haven’t eaten much yet.” Chen Jiaojiao waved her hand impatiently: “Fine, I’ll serve myself.” Later, when Chen Jiaojiao, her male companion, and I left the table, I finally realized why she had brought Huang Youwei—whom she so clearly detested—along today. As Liu Yiyang and I climbed onto the motorcycle, Huang Youwei opened the door of a BMW for Chen Jiaojiao. Later still, Chen Jiaojiao even scolded me: “You’re something else. With so many old classmates around, you actually had the nerve to ride that nearly-wrecked motorcycle.” When Jinjin started drinking the abalone-flavored milk, my father-in-law slipped out of the house again, my mother-in-law hurried off to the bathroom, and Liu Yiyang just sat there beside Jinjin and me, silent and stiff. It wasn’t until I nudged him with my elbow—“What’s wrong?” —that he finally spoke up: “Jiaqian, do you really want to divorce me? If so, then let’s just do it.” “What are you thinking?” I had never imagined a day would come when Liu Yiyang would actually bring up divorce to me. But now that he’d mentioned it so solemnly, I couldn’t bring myself to think about what would happen next. Divorce... what would I do after we were divorced? “Jiaqian, the truth is, I’ve always been quite proud. From childhood on, I’ve never felt I was any less than anyone else. Even if someone had a better family background, better looks, more talent, or more luck than me, I’ve never felt inferior.” As he said this, tears welled up in Liu Yiyang’s eyes. We’ve been together for seven years, and I’ve seen him cry fewer times than I’ve watched a meteor shower. “But lately, I’ve really been feeling quite inferior. You’re the wife I love most, and Jinjin is the daughter I love most, yet I can’t give you the life you both hope for. I don’t know why—why, even though I work hard and stay grounded, I still can’t keep this family afloat.” “So you’re going to leave us? Do you think that if you walk away, Jinjin and I will be able to manage on our own?” Jinjin squirmed in my arms, feeling wronged and anxious. Her pure, sincere, and sensitive heart seemed to have already grasped the chaotic, complex, and helpless world of adults. “I thought it was you who wanted me to leave.” Liu Yiyang hung his head, dejected and submissive. “I’m sorry, Jiaqian. I couldn’t give you a grand wedding, a huge diamond ring, or a home of our own. I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry.” “Enough, enough,” I interrupted Liu Yiyang’s rambling. “Don’t go losing your mind just because you attended a wedding. I haven’t even started envying other people’s glamour yet, so why are you beating yourself up? What good are all those Mercedes-Benzes? Everyone’s got just one butt to sit on—a spot the size of a palm is plenty. What good are all those abalone dishes? They all end up in someone else’s stomach anyway. As for diamond rings and houses, at least those are practical. Never mind—we’ll earn the money little by little. We’ll have it sooner or later.” Liu Yiyang listened, dumbfounded: Where had that Tong Jiaqian gone who’d been screaming about divorce just a moment ago? It turned out to be all bluster; the moment I actually brought up divorce, she backed down. I’d thought today’s wedding would be the spark that ignited the fire—Jin Yu’s rise to the top and Chen Jiaojiao’s heartfelt words were supposed to add fuel to the flames of my marriage with her. How come the result ended up being like snow extinguishing a fire? She, Tong Jiaqian, really is an extraordinary woman. And I, too, was stunned by my own words. My mom says I’ve been stubborn since I was a kid, and my greatest talent is going against the grain. I never smiled for photos, but the moment the camera was put away, I’d burst into endless giggles. When I started elementary school, everyone in my class scored over 90, but I failed. Yet when half the class failed, I scored a perfect 100. Later, in middle school, both my parents thought I was eloquent and had a strong memory, so they believed I was suited for the humanities, but I chose to embrace math, physics, and chemistry instead. Later still, I was admitted to the prestigious computer science program at a top-tier university, yet after graduation, I switched careers to become a copywriter. When I became pregnant with Jinjin out of wedlock, everyone told me, “You and Liu Yiyang haven’t achieved anything yet. You shouldn’t keep this child, lest you end up living in poverty later on.” I refused to listen, insisting on marrying into the Liu family, determined to build a prosperous life with four generations under one roof. Now, I’ve finally started thinking about divorce, planning to start over—to live freely with just Jinjin by my side. But as luck would have it, everyone around me has started gossiping. Well, fine—I’ll just refuse to leave.