Chapter 10 Her Tattling

Song Zhenyu, a rugged man by nature, suddenly had a realization. He looked at Zhang Yingyue with a puzzled expression. “Yingyue, why do I feel like Shuying is complaining about something?” Zhang Yingyue was just as surprised. She couldn't help but marvel at the thought. Not only did Song Zhenyu sense it, but she also felt the same. The child was barely born and already seemed capable of expressing grievance and frustration. “Yingyue, could it be that you're out of milk and Shuying's hungry?” Song Zhenyu asked awkwardly. Zhang Yingyue was weak, having barely eaten anything nourishing, so it wouldn't be surprising if she had no milk. A newborn would cry only when hungry or uncomfortable. If the adults hadn't taken good care of her, of course, she'd feel wronged. Zhang Yingyue hesitated and replied, “Maybe. Let me try feeding her to see if she's eager.” She prepared to feed Song Shuying. Song Zhenyu averted his gaze out of modesty. However, Shuying shook her head firmly, rejecting the offer. She wasn't hungry. As Song Shuying didn't eat, Zhang Yingyue felt a bit perplexed. She adjusted her clothing and murmured, “I guess it's not hunger then.” Suddenly, a thought struck her. Her eyes widened in realization. She exclaimed. “That couldn't be, could it?” Seeing her expression, Song Zhenyu quickly asked, “What is it? Did you do something today?” Before she could reply, he grew anxious. “You didn't do chores, did you? You just gave birth to Shuying, your body is still fragile, and you barely escaped death! How could you think of working?” Seeing his concern, Zhang Yingyue hastened to explain, “No, no, listen to me. Today, I felt a lot more energetic, and I wasn't tired at all. So, I thought of tidying up the house a bit. But something strange happened—every time I tried to step out, Shuying would start crying.” As she recounted the events, she found it unbelievable. It dawned on her that this wasn't just about recognizing people. Perhaps her little daughter didn't want her to overwork herself. Zhang Yingyue gazed into Shuying's lively eyes, her heart softening. “I even asked Ruying to come and watch her, but no matter what, Shuying kept crying when I tried to leave.” Hearing this, Song Zhenyu let out a relieved sigh. He picked Shuying up, his face breaking into a smile. “Our Shuying is so clever. She knows how to care for her mother already. Such a filial child!” Song Shuying's grievances disappeared as she looked seriously at Song Zhenyu. Her father was quite tanned. Yet, the warmth of his broad arms and gentle gaze made her feel at ease. Having such a father was truly a blessing. Despite the hardships of ancient times, she resolved to make sure her family lived a good life. No matter the era, being a doctor guaranteed stability. With over twenty years of medical experience as a traditional medicine practitioner and the space she possessed as an advantage, she was confident in their future. With this thought, Song Shuying smiled at Song Zhenyu. Song Zhenyu's heart melted. His daughter's smile erased all his fatigue, and he couldn't help but smile back, his voice warm. “What a good girl. You know how to take care of your mom, huh?” After praising his daughter, Song Zhenyu turned to Zhang Yingyue with a serious expression. “Yingyue, you must rest properly this month. You've never fully recovered after your previous births. This time, you need to take care of yourself. No one will say anything about it. I'll handle everything at home. Dr. Wang said your body is too weak and must recover. If something happens to you, what will happen to our children?” Song Zhenyu wanted to say he hoped they could grow old together, but such tender words felt hard to voice. Thus, he mentioned Dr. Wang and the children. Dr. Wang's words held credibility, and the children mattered the most to Zhang Yingyue. Thus, for the sake of her children, she would take good care of her health. Her nose stung with emotion, and she quickly nodded in agreement. “Okay, I'll listen to you. This month, I'll rest properly. Thank you for all the hard work.” Song Zhenyu waved it off with a smile. “It's nothing. Not hard at all.” “Get some rest. I'll go cut some grass while the weather's good to patch the roof.” After ensuring Zhang Yingyue and their daughter were well, Song Zhenyu left to work. Outside, he called to the children. “Tianqi, Tianheng, Ruying, come over to me.” The three siblings obediently approached. They looked up and called out in unison, “Dad.” Song Tianqi and Song Tianheng were mentally slow, so their gazes often seemed dazed. Their minds were like those of perpetual children, stuck at a three- or four-year-old level, though Song Tianqi was already eleven, and Song Tianheng would turn ten that winter. Song Ruying, at six years old, was quiet but sharp, her bright eyes full of life. Song Zhenyu ruffled their heads one by one and gently said, “Tianqi, Tianheng, I have a task for you. Clear the weeds around the old well and scoop out the smelly mud. Once it's done, I'll roast chestnuts for you tonight. Does that sound good?” The well wasn't deep. It was just an outlet built to hold water. Over the years, it had become clogged with foul mud. Clearing it out would make fetching water much easier. The weather wasn't cold anymore, so the three children could handle it. “Sure.” The promise of food had Song Tianqi and Song Tianheng licking their lips eagerly. They didn't grasp much of what he said but understood there'd be a reward if they worked hard. Their bellies would be satisfied after eating delicious food. Ever dutiful, Song Ruying nodded seriously. “Don't worry, Dad. I'll make sure we do a good job.” Though only six, she understood her brothers were different. Others called them “fools,” and she agreed they were slower than others. Many times, they couldn't understand what others were saying. However, they treated her with love, bringing her sweet wild fruits and always making her feel special. Every time they smiled, they only had eyes for her. No matter how good other people's brothers were, they weren't her own brothers. To her, they were the best brothers in the world despite their lack of intelligence. Satisfied with their obedience, Song Zhenyu left to cut grass. Among the farm tools at home, he was only allotted a hoe and a sickle. The fire tongs he received had been broken for over a decade. One of the tongs was snapped halfway, and the handle had lost an ear, making it hard to hold and use, but it was better than nothing. Carrying a basket with a broken shoulder strap, he went to cut the wild grass. The old house had been neglected for years. If he didn't hurry up and renovate the roof, it would be a tough winter. Thinking of his wife and children, Song Zhenyu threw himself into his work, quickly making significant progress. Many who were busy with the fall harvest couldn't help but shake their heads when they saw it. Whenever anyone mentioned the affairs of the Song family, it was inevitable to comment on how ruthless Song Shengdong and Wei Zhilan were. Still, these were someone else's family matters. People might gossip behind their backs, but it was unlikely anyone would actually stand up for Song Zhenyu. After all, he wasn't their son, and if they tried to intervene, they'd only be inviting Wei Zhilan's curses upon themselves. “Zhenyu,” someone called. Song Zhenyu looked up and quickly responded, “Longxiao, your family's so busy. Don't waste time here with me.”