TBW - 10

Chapter 10: Early Marriage and Early Parenthood Are Not Advisable, Especially When Having Two Kids in Three Years

The sofa was in good condition, aside from some minor scratches. 

Twenty minutes later, Cheng Simin emerged from the kerosene-smelling warehouse covered in black soot but feeling quite satisfied. After loading the sofa onto the small cargo van with Zhou Yan’s help, she also spotted a solid wood bunk bed tucked away in a corner. 

The bed was brand new, showing only signs of storage. Although Cheng Simin’s future home would only house one person—no need for two beds—her desire to get high-quality items at a bargain price overruled practicality. 

In the past, constrained by loan repayments and tight finances, she hadn’t renovated her small apartment after purchasing it, opting instead to move in immediately with whatever came with it. 

The developer’s original fittings were outdated and cheap, and she disliked them immensely. She often fantasized about earning enough money someday to completely renovate the place from top to bottom. Because of this, she never splurged on expensive furniture or household items, reasoning that anything she bought now would just be wasted during the eventual overhaul. Why pursue quality when it was only a temporary phase? Making do was sufficient. 

Her apartment was filled with inexpensive items: a particleboard storage cabinet for less than fifty yuan, plastic trash bins bought two-for-one at 9.9 yuan, adhesive hooks plastered across the bathroom tiles, and cheap bedding that left colors on her skin no matter how many times she washed it. 

Since buying her home, Cheng Simin had never invited colleagues over, as her living space was far from presentable. While the exterior walls were sturdy, the interior furnishings were as flimsy as straw that could be blown away by a wolf’s breath. 

The result was predictable: Cheng Simin didn’t strike it rich overnight. Only now was she beginning to realize that life was simply one day after another, with no such thing as a transitional period. Constantly wishing to fast-forward through hardships only robbed her of the present moment. 

Who couldn’t live passively? Finding joy in suffering was the real skill. 

Even if she didn’t have much money, surely she deserved to enjoy some second-hand solid wood furniture, right? If nothing else, Beibei could be her lower bunkmate—it wasn’t extravagant. 

With these thoughts in mind, Cheng Simin began negotiating again. She transferred the full 800 yuan to the grandfather’s phone, smiling sweetly. “Grandpa, what about that unused bunk bed of yours? How much are you selling it for? If the price is reasonable, I’ll take it too.” 

The grandfather was fiddling with the 800 yuan in his WeChat wallet. In recent years, quick payment methods had become widespread—even pancake vendors only accepted WeChat transfers. Customers paying with cash were seen as slow and annoying, and he didn’t want to endure their cold stares. So, he had spent two weeks learning how to bind his bank card to WeChat and use his phone to scan and pay. 

That said, he wasn’t particularly adept at it. At the moment, he was splitting the money Cheng Simin had sent him into four red packets to forward to Shi Ying. 

He glanced at Cheng Simin, suspicious. “What do you want with a bunk bed? It’s a child-sized model—the length isn’t enough. Even with the ladder, it’s only two meters tall.” 

Cheng Simin’s face flushed. Human joys and sorrows weren’t universally shared; tall grandpas wouldn’t understand the plight of someone short like her. At her height, a bed 1.7 meters long would suffice—she didn’t need two meters. 

Sensing the old man’s reluctance to sell, she changed her approach. “Well, it doesn’t matter. It’s just for two short people to sleep on. If you can give me a discount, that’d be great—I’m not exactly rolling in cash.” 

The grandfather didn’t know that the “two short people” Cheng Simin referred to were herself and her pet dog. He looked at her again, feeling sympathy for this young woman who seemed to be struggling with two children and buying second-hand furniture. Moved by compassion, he decided to ask his grandson. “Let me check with my grandson. See if he’s free now.” 

Shi Ying stood near the broken glass on the second-floor hallway, watching for a long time without seeing Cheng Simin leave. Just then, his grandfather called again. Picking up the phone, Shi Ying preempted his grandfather’s greeting with a loud voice: “Grandpa!” 

His booming tone startled the old man, who quickly continued in an equally rapid pace: “I’ve received the money. Finish the deal and let her take the stuff quickly—it’s getting late, and you should rest.” 

The grandfather glanced at his digital watch. The evening news had just ended, and he hadn’t even started watching the 8 o’clock TV drama yet. Afterward, he still planned to listen to operas with his wife—they were far from bedtime. 

Turning around, he walked to the wall and explained gently, “No, it’s not that. This girl says she has two kids at home and wants to take that bunk bed too. The bed’s too small for you anyway—you don’t need it. Why not sell it to her?” 

For a long while, Shi Ying didn’t respond. Thinking the signal had dropped, the grandfather shouted “Hello?” several times into the receiver before finally hearing Shi Ying’s reply. 

His voice was quieter than before, tinged with a hint of stubbornness, as if sulking with someone. “Fine, sell it. Selling to anyone is still selling. Early marriage and early parenthood are tough enough—especially having two kids within three years of graduating. Tell her the bed’s a gift. Let her leave already.” 

“Huh?” The grandfather was surprised by his grandson’s generosity toward a stranger—a mother of two. “It’s not necessary to give it away for free. How about asking her for three or five hundred yuan? I remember when you were little, you went through a phase of loving this kind of bed. Your mom said there was no use for it since you were an only child, but you insisted on buying it. When she refused, you even cried. You were so stubborn—you ended up using your saved New Year’s money to buy it.”

It was as if a thorn had suddenly been inserted into his heart—not sharp, but still bothersome. Shi Ying shifted his gaze away from Cheng Simin and headed up the stairs. This time, he moved quickly, reaching his grandfather’s door in just a few steps. 

The stench of the garbage bin clung to him, making him desperate for a shower in his rented apartment. But with Cheng Simin still lingering downstairs, he couldn’t return home. Damn that trash can—it was unnecessarily irritating. 

Had he been cursed with bad luck recently? Maybe he should visit a temple tomorrow to pray. 

To quickly wrap up the conversation, not only did he fail to refute his grandfather’s claim about him being a crybaby as a child, but he also smoothly fabricated an excuse: “Grandpa, that bed isn’t good at all. It looks fine on the surface, but it has hidden defects. If she takes it home, she’ll still have to spend money fixing it. Don’t hesitate—consider it clearing space for us.” 

“Alright, I’m done talking. Let me use your bathroom for a quick shower. Did you refill the solar water heater today?” 

Perhaps having overheard Shi Ying’s earlier phone call with her husband, the door to the third-floor apartment was already slightly ajar, ready to be pushed open. 

After locking the door behind him, Shi Ying noticed that the side bedroom door was open. The room was dark, and from his vantage point, he could only make out a blurry shadow near the desk piled high with newspapers and tools. 

The shadow was hunched over, cocooned in blankets like a winter pupa, motionless, or perhaps resembling mist-shrouded mountains that might vanish at any moment. 

Shi Ying’s grandmother sat by the bed, repeatedly coaxing the figure to eat something, patiently outlining its edges with her voice. 

This old house was one of Banshan City’s oldest allocated housing units and the place where Li Xiangqun had grown up as the family’s only child. The side bedroom had originally been her childhood room, left vacant after she defied her parents’ objections to live with her then-boyfriend, Shi Kaiji. 

Shi Ying’s memory of the room’s layout dated back to elementary school. 

At that time, his relationship with his grandparents was still close. Though they didn’t approve of their son-in-law, the bond of intergenerational affection prevailed. After Li Xiangqun gave birth and reconciled somewhat with her parents, she often brought Shi Ying to visit. 

During her passionate romance, she had quit her job at a state-owned enterprise to join Shi Kaiji’s private company as an engineering estimator. In their early marriage, the couple was inseparable, and as the company flourished, Li Xiangqun frequently accompanied Shi Kaiji on business trips and social engagements. When there was no one to care for Shi Ying, she would leave him with her parents to stay overnight. 

The small side bedroom was filled with toys and snacks his grandmother bought for him, along with countless volumes of ancient poetry and classical texts purchased by his grandfather. While other children listened to fairy tales before bed, Shi Ying’s grandfather read him seven-character quatrains, muddling through them without concern. His grandfather claimed this was how one cultivated literary attainment from a young age. 

His grandfather held high expectations for Shi Ying, setting a goal for him to fluently recite 500 poems by the age of ten. 

Shi Ying proved himself capable, memorizing the entire Three Hundred Tang Poems by the age of seven. However, his grandfather’s KPI wasn’t fully met—the following year, Li Xiangqun decided to quit her job to focus on raising Shi Ying. This decision sparked another major family dispute. 

During their fiercest argument, Shi Ying’s grandfather lashed out at his daughter: “I raised you, sent you to university, and begged people left and right for your job opportunities—not so you could become a doormat behind some successful man!” 

“Tell me, what contribution have you made to society? You lost your mind the moment you fell in love, blindly following that man around. He tells you to switch jobs, and you do; he tells you to quit, and you obey. Is this what I taught you? Is this the example your mother set for you?” 

In his anger, the old man slapped his thigh forcefully. “Your mother worked tirelessly even while pregnant, handling blueprints and site inspections until retirement—and people still begged her to come back! How did you turn out like this?” 

“What can you do besides eating and lazing around? Do you really think that loser is reliable? Mark my words—if you don’t listen to me, you’re going to regret it!” 

Under such fierce criticism, Li Xiangqun refused to back down. 

She snatched her son, who was hiding behind her mother, grabbed a coat from behind the door, and roughly wrapped it around him. Her voice was icy, cutting through the tension. “Look at what you’re saying. Am I only unlucky now? I’ve been unlucky my whole life.” 

“No fatherly love, no motherly care. Other families have mothers cooking meals and fathers supporting them. At the very least, they have siblings to grow up with. What did I have? I was born in Gucheng, but you dragged me to this godforsaken place. Excuses of being busy with work—you abandoned me in this shabby house since I was little. I was so young, standing on stools to learn how to cook, burning my hands with blisters. When I got pneumonia in middle school and collapsed in class with a fever of 40 degrees, did anyone take care of me?” 

“Work, work, work—always prioritizing your careers. As if the country couldn’t function without you two! Don’t talk about teaching me anything. If you ask me, my mother’s example was the worst kind.” 

“Who says a good woman has to be treated like a man? Why must women suffer so much? Enduring childbirth once wasn’t enough—to prove we’re not useless, we’re forced to work twice as hard. Why should we? If you were truly capable, would my mother have had to work while pregnant? She was driven by poverty!” 

“Day after day, looking down on others. Engineers are so great? They’re just glorified laborers. Making your wife suffer—that’s what makes someone despicable!” 

Shi Ying remembered every word from that day. As his mother tied a scarf around his neck, her long nails accidentally scraped his ear. His tender skin tore instantly, and he clutched his ear, tears streaming down his face like pearls onto his coat. 

Father and daughter shared fiery tempers, their arguments escalating uncontrollably. Neither would back down, hurling insults at each other. 

No matter how his grandmother tried to mediate, it was futile. His grandfather, enraged, stormed over to snatch the child, declaring that his daughter was unfit to be a mother. Downstairs, Shi Kaiji, who had been waiting impatiently in the car, finally lost his patience and stormed upstairs. Pushing the door open, he saw his father-in-law wrestling with his wife over the child. 

Already estranged from his in-laws due to their disapproval, Shi Kaiji had grown increasingly arrogant after amassing wealth and surrounded himself with flatterers. 

With a dark expression, he acted without hesitation—kicking his father-in-law, delivering two punches, and ignoring the old man’s bleeding nose and injured lower back after he tripped over a dining chair. Scooping up the child and embracing Li Xiangqun, he stormed out of the apartment.

From that point on, until he went abroad to study, Shi Ying never entered this house again. On one hand, his parents forbade it; on the other, he was also afraid to face his grandfather, who had been beaten by his father. 

His reasoning was simple: he was his father’s son. Though he hadn’t thrown the punches himself, he assumed his grandfather must hate him too. For those who disliked him, he always chose to keep his distance.