Chapter 30: Blockage

Countless people in life try to be unconventional, but ultimately discover that worldly success is real success, and worldly happiness is real happiness. Women are still commodities waiting for the right price—nothing has changed.

“We shouldn’t ask. I don’t want to see their parents’ faces again. If we can just get along peacefully, thank heavens for that. Jinghe, though we’re Shanghai’s only daughters and you’ve studied abroad, marrying him was a step up for you. Having a boy will always secure things.”

“If you knew it was a step up, then why did you let me marry him?”

“He loves you and wants to treat you well. My daughter won’t suffer. Once you’re truly married, you’ll realize all men are the same. Love turns into the mundane grind of daily life. But if your husband has money, it’s different. With enough money, you don’t have to worry about daily necessities.”

Ou Jinghe gave a bitter smile. The poor looked up at the rich like gazing at a mountaintop from the depths of a pit.

“You absolutely must have a child.” Her father chimed in sternly: “If you don’t give birth, someone else will take your place.”

Ou Jinghe suddenly laughed, as if hearing the funniest joke: “Let him go ahead and have one.”

“Shut up. Don’t forget what kind of family we are…”

“I know. My dad’s a ticket scalper, and my mom’s a gambling queen at the mahjong parlor. It’s thanks to my mom’s beauty and my dad’s smarts that I managed to climb onto Gao Yuan’s high branch.” Ou Jinghe put down her chopsticks, stood up, and grabbed her coat, accidentally tearing the lining of her dress: “I’m leaving. We climbed so high, got demolition compensation, and yet there’s no money for decent hangers!”

After leaving, Ou Jinghe still had two hours before her date. Jiading was under construction everywhere, with dump trucks and concrete mixers kicking up dust on the roads. The man she was supposed to meet lived five kilometers away, and she had nowhere to go. Suddenly, she felt exhausted.

She sent him a message: “I’m not coming today. I’m in a bad mood.”

The reply came quickly: “Are you serious? At your age, pulling this kind of stunt? If it weren’t for the fact that you’re rich and flirtatious, I wouldn’t even bother seeing you.”

The next second, she found herself blocked. Without feelings, casual encounters always led to indifference. Without anyone to rely on, every spark of attraction felt hollow. Ou Jinghe tossed her phone onto the passenger seat. In the tunnel, the lights reflected off the windshield, revealing her face, which filled her with disgust. Her sunken cheeks and eye sockets made her look haggard, and her fingers no longer felt smooth against her skin. If the sight of mirrors lately made her anxious, perhaps it was time for another injection. But for now, she couldn’t find any meaning in making herself look radiant.

She opened the group chat with Gao Yuan’s parents. Her own parents had agreed to come over for dinner tonight. Calculating the time, it was indeed time to head home. As her temples throbbed faintly, Ou Jinghe, almost possessed, opened the security camera footage. Sure enough, her parents had already been let into the house by the nanny—and they were rummaging through the rooms.

When Ou Jinghe entered, her parents were conducting an “inspection.” Her mother-in-law had even shooed the nanny away and opened the fridge to examine its contents closely: “So little vegetables, and such small eggs. Is the salmon still frozen? Are we a family that can’t afford fresh salmon? The fridge is full of alcohol, and the bird’s nest isn’t stored properly. What kind of nanny is this? So stingy!” Her mother-in-law excelled at picking apart the details of her life. After all, Ou Jinghe came from the narrow alleys; no amount of education could erase her humble origins.

“Mom, why didn’t you call ahead if you were coming early?”

“Gao Yuan is always traveling for work and never comes to see us. So we decided to come see you.”

They clearly didn’t want to see her. Looking at the tea on the table, now cold, she realized they had been here for an hour. She nervously checked the dressing room and bedroom. The bedside drawers were disheveled, but thankfully, the dressing room hadn’t been opened. Elders always liked to rummage through bedside drawers. In truth, aside from skincare products and supplements, there was nothing important there. Her valuable items were never kept in seemingly safe places.

“Earlier, I saw you keep cigarettes in the south bedroom and cosmetics in the north bedroom. Are you living separately?”

“Just when I smoke, I go to the other room.” Ou Jinghe thought, if she could deceive, she would.

“Then why don’t you sleep in the south bedroom?”

“The feng shui master said that staying in the north bedroom this year is better for wealth luck.”

Her mother-in-law naturally believed this: “Then we’ll stay in the south bedroom for a few days until after Gao Yuan’s birthday.”

Gao Yuan’s birthday was celebrated every year, while hers was ignored. Her in-laws were self-made, having worked their way up from nothing. Gao Yuan’s grandmother once raised the family by slaughtering chickens at a slaughterhouse. Through various business ventures, they now owned several properties and liquid assets, and had cultivated many connections. Though not part of high society, they fancied themselves as such, fervently believing in feng shui, the I Ching, and… spiritual cultivation. True to form, her mother-in-law pulled out her phone with large-font messages: “I signed you up for a spiritual cultivation class run by a friend. Fertility meditation—it costs fifty thousand yuan.”

Ou Jinghe sneered: “Mom, Dad, about having children… I think you don’t need to rush. I’ll listen to Gao Yuan. If you really want a grandson, just tell him directly.”

“Didn’t we resolve the fallopian tube issue? Why are you dragging your feet? Time waits for no one. I was already struggling at thirty-three when I gave birth to Gao Yuan. How about a gathering next Saturday? I’ll bring the chef and invite friends over for a party.”

Ou Jinghe suppressed her anger. This mother-in-law, who had never taken her seriously, excelled at making her feel humiliated. The annual drama of trying to force her son to divorce Ou Jinghe because of her blocked fallopian tubes was unforgettable. During treatment, her mother-in-law devised countless schemes to pressure Gao Yuan into leaving her. Every day, Ou Jinghe went to the hospital alone for blood tests, prescriptions, and treatments, while Gao Yuan, on a business trip, didn’t even reply to her messages. By the time the treatment ended, Ou Jinghe was utterly exhausted—but just then, Gao Yuan stopped his cold war. Only later did she realize the term “cold war” applied perfectly to his behavior.

What suffocated her even more was that if her in-laws were here, Gao Yuan’s return meant they’d have to share a bed.

Late at night, after her in-laws had gone to sleep, Ou Jinghe slipped into the walk-in closet, opened the wardrobe, and pulled out a large jewelry cabinet. Hidden behind a false panel was a locked folder. For Ou Jinghe, deletion wasn’t safe—the internet’s memory wasn’t under her control. Physical evidence was something she needed to keep close to feel secure. Here lay her most private possessions: receipts for cosmetic surgeries, invoices for IVF treatments, schedules for hormone injections, medical records, and her annual health checkups after she stopped talking about having children. There was also Gao Yuan’s diagnosis report. When Gao Yuan went to the restroom before receiving the results, Ou Jinghe immediately went downstairs to make a copy. When Gao Yuan saw it, he was furious and tore up the original. The test results remained in his medical card, but he never mentioned it again.

The three words on the diagnosis report were Ou Jinghe’s pardon. After this diagnosis, the battle over IVF between her and Gao Yuan truly ended, and their relationship became lukewarm.

There was a knock at the door. Gao Yuan called from outside: “Jinghe, what pretty clothes are you hiding in the fitting room for so long?”

The fitting room had a lock. Ou Jinghe slowly stood up, her movements calm. While putting away the folder, she made sure to open other cabinets to mask the sound. The nanny was telling Gao Yuan that the kitchen exhaust fan was broken, and Gao Yuan calmly instructed her to ask Ou Jinghe for money. Over the next few days, there would inevitably be more interactions with the nanny. Though the nanny had her own elevator and bedroom and rarely crossed paths with them, situations like this prompted her to barge in uninvited. Each time, Ou Jinghe could read the judgment in the nanny’s eyes—that subtle disdain of a working-class woman looking down on a mistress who couldn’t even wash dishes.

Walking out, Gao Yuan seemed cheerful, wearing nothing but a bathrobe. Ou Jinghe sat on the edge of the bed, expressionless, applying moisturizer: “No, I’m a bit tired.”

Gao Yuan wasn’t surprised. Ou Jinghe could hear him putting his pajama pants back on while chatting calmly: “I spoke to Brother Wu recently. They’re back from Switzerland, and their twins will be turning three soon. Their birthday party will be here in a few days.”

Brother Wu, as Gao Yuan referred to him, was a friend who ran businesses overseas. Because they missed their prime years for childbirth, their twins were born through surrogacy in the U.S.—not their biological children. Ou Jinghe had grown indifferent to the implications of Gao Yuan’s words. Lying in bed with the lights off, she put on an eye mask, pretending to fall asleep within a minute.

“Jinghe.”

“Hmm.”

“Can we say we’ve finally overcome our hardships?”

Ou Jinghe removed her eye mask and stared at the ceiling, carefully listening to the sound of the air conditioner.

“We fought so hard during courtship, argued so much after marriage, and visited the hospital so many times. We’ve seen each other at our worst, wow.” Gao Yuan reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers: “I’m grateful we got married. If we were just lovers, we probably would’ve broken up many times by now.”

Ou Jinghe pulled her hand away and tucked it under the blanket: “I’ve almost forgotten how you pursued me.”

“It took a lot of effort. Even my friends thought I was joking when I told them I chased you all the way to municipal demolition. I never told you this, but back then, my parents introduced me to the daughter of a distributor whose brand you love to wear. But I always felt that my first love was my lifelong obsession. So even though your family background wasn’t great, it wasn’t your fault. You’re such an emotional person. Most people I know are cold and lack empathy. People like you are rare.”

The old Ou Jinghe would’ve been moved to tears by such words. Gao Yuan was a master at saying beautiful things, paired with a feigned wise gaze that bewitched girls. But now, accustomed to his tricks, she could easily refute him: “You’ve been divorced before and have congenital issues. Who knows if that distributor’s daughter would even consider you?” Yet lying in the same bed, as Gao Yuan continued to hold her hand, the words stuck in her throat.

“My eggs are healthy. I can have children. If I buy sperm, I can get pregnant too.”

“Stop it. Wouldn’t a child like that be cuckolding me?”

“Don’t you find it ironic? When I was judged at the hospital for wanting a child of the Gao family, everyone pressured you to divorce me and demanded I leave with nothing. But when you discovered it was your problem, you instinctively thought about buying a surrogate child…”

“It’s not my problem. Stop saying it’s my fault.” Gao Yuan paused for a full minute, restraining his anger and adopting a tone of moral hypocrisy: “You’ll always be my first priority. I want to grow old with you. I have responsibilities—I’ve always wanted a child. Even if it’s not our biological child, raising one together would make me happy.”

In the darkness, Ou Jinghe smiled, counting how many times he used the word “I.” To this day, all their friends still believed Gao Yuan had shown great tolerance toward Ou Jinghe. Struggles with fertility were common at their age, and surrogacy abroad was a normal solution—no need to dwell on her own body. Countless people in life tried to be unconventional, but ultimately discovered that worldly success was real success, and worldly happiness was real happiness. Women were still commodities waiting for the right price—nothing had changed. Tears slid down Ou Jinghe’s cheeks, her throat felt sticky, and all she could think of were those little yellow hats from kindergarten.

After a long silence, Ou Jinghe spoke earnestly: “What you said earlier about divorce—does it still count?”

“Why bring this up again?” Gao Yuan turned on the light and sat up. “Didn’t we agree not to mention it anymore?”

“Living like this… are we happy? The ‘first love’ label expired a long time ago…”

“We’re family. Jinghe, after marriage, through all our hardships, we became a family.”

“We are family, yes—but…” Ou Jinghe sat up and looked seriously at Gao Yuan’s face. “Family has both love and hate. I want love. I want romance…”

“I love you. Isn’t my love enough?”

“If you’d said that before we got married, I might’ve believed you. Now, please don’t say it anymore—it sounds like a joke.”

Gao Yuan hugged her tightly: “Come back. That vengeful Ou Jinghe who wanted to make me suffer for decades, come back. You once said you’d retaliate against me, mock me, humiliate me—I’m waiting. Let’s raise a child together, get past our parents’ expectations, and then you and the child can gang up on me. Make me the lowest-ranked person in the family. Wouldn’t that still make us a happy family? No matter how much we fight, we’ll never separate—wouldn’t that be nice?”

Ou Jinghe’s soul seemed to float up to the ceiling, watching as Gao Yuan finished his speech, his eyes counting down when he should release his wife, who hated him to the bone. This conversation was nothing more than a performance—he wanted her to play the role of a dutiful wife now that his parents were here. Her current lifeless state wasn’t the real Ou Jinghe. The real Ou Jinghe would retaliate fiercely, loading love like ammunition and firing it mercilessly. But facing Gao Yuan, the stormy waves that had surged within her for over thirty years had vanished, leaving only one word: “Fine.” She gently patted Gao Yuan’s back: “I’ll wait until you want a divorce. Let’s sleep. I’m too tired.”