Chapter 95: Family

“Abao!”

At the entrance of the Red Star Welfare Home stood a simple, good-natured young man, glancing around nervously. As soon as Li Jie got out of the car, he called out, and the young man immediately broke into a wide grin, jogging over to Li Jie. Leaning close, he said, “Eat some oranges! I bought them with my salary!”

Clutching two oranges in his hands, the young man’s down jacket was spotless, his shoes brand new, and his neatly trimmed hair made him look fresh and tidy.

“Abao, I now have two wives.”

“Then what should I call you?”

“Just call me brother-in-law.”

“Hehe…”

Abao scratched his head and chuckled awkwardly, then glanced shyly at Su Mengyao and Gan Xinglu, who had just gotten out of the car. He quietly hid behind Li Jie and said, “Big Bao, I’m a little scared.”

“They don’t hit people.”

“Want an orange?”

“How many did you buy?”

“Ten jin, I brought them back in a small cart. Bought from a little shop, but the shop owner went home for New Year. To buy firecrackers, we have to go to Qinglong Bridge, which is a bit far, and there’s no bubble gum for sale. I don’t like lollipops; bubble gum is more satisfying to chew…”

Abao had endless things to say, following Li Jie wherever he went. Though a bit slow, he functioned fine in daily activities and worked well in the welfare goods factory. He lived in the Red Star dormitory, and when not working, he helped around the welfare home.

Now, because Li Jie’s merchandise sales were booming, he had come back to lead the welfare home children in crafts and packaging work.

Currently, Abao held the title of “Red Star Packaging Workshop Supervisor.”

He even had a work badge made by Mother Hu, with the words “Workshop Supervisor” boldly printed on it.

“Big Bao, Little Qingcai passed away last month.”

“I know.”

Little Qingcai was not a vegetable but a person who had heart problems and, despite life support, passed away last month. Such occurrences were common at Red Star, and Li Jie had long grown accustomed to them.

Of course, it was merely an adaptation.

Patting Abao’s shoulder, Li Jie asked, “Why haven’t you grown taller?”

“I have. By one and a half centimeters.”

Abao measured with his hands, “I’m one meter seventy-eight point five, about the same as Mother Hu.”

“Shameless! Mother Hu’s one meter eighty-two. How can you say almost the same?”

“Mom Niu says it’s about the same.”

“Then it’s about the same.”

Leading Abao inside, a group of children looked over. In recent years, there were far fewer with intellectual disabilities; most with disabilities had congenital blindness, deafness, or organ problems like heart issues. Those with normal intelligence and limbs were usually abandoned infants.

Due to a decade-long dispute between Pingjiang’s six welfare homes and the city council, adoption procedures had often been difficult, imposing extra burdens.

But because Li Jie had been impressive ten years ago, quite a few had managed to finish school and find jobs over the years.

Most returned during the New Year.

After all, it was their home.

Many around Li Jie’s age still had some disability or congenital illness, mild or severe.

Examples included six fingers, missing fingers, cleft lips. Only after earning money could they afford cosmetic surgery.

Some never returned, partly out of fear that others would know they grew up in a welfare home, which was understandable.

But they would at least call to check in and say they were safe.

The welfare home was one of the few places where dumplings were eaten during New Year. Though not a northern tradition, the many people made dumpling-making a bonding activity.

Half of them dipped the dumplings in ketchup, which would make northerners clench their fists in disbelief.

The other half used soy sauce, with adults adding a bit of vinegar.

Li Jie was still young, so he skipped vinegar and garlic, opting for some chili sauce instead.

“Eat the oranges, eat the oranges…”

Once familiar, Abao no longer feared Su Mengyao and Gan Xinglu. Cheerfully, he brought out fruit and nuts to serve, even setting up a fruit plate.

Each New Year’s Eve, half of the twelve “moms” would come—sometimes two or three years would see a full reunion. This year was the same: six moms came, as each had their own matters.

“Thank you, Abao.”

“No need to thank me, they’re sweet, sweet…”

Su Mengyao’s smile was beautiful, and everyone at the table praised her. Red envelopes were naturally given out, though modestly, just a hundred yuan each as a token.

During the meal, Mother Niu, Niu Erya, carrying a large spoon, called Li Jie over to help with the seafood. “Come quickly and take the seafood out of the pot. I can’t manage it alone.”

“Alright!”

Nearby, Hu Wenjing was picking apart mantis shrimp for a few children. She was about to help when She Qingchun grabbed her arm. “You’re so clumsy. Erya is chatting with Bao.”

Hu Wenjing glared. “You think you’re smart?”

“Oh, don’t be mad. Here, have a king crab claw.”

She Qingchun’s eyes darted as she tried to sneak a listen to Niu Erya and Li Jie’s conversation but was promptly pulled back by Hu Wenjing, who pinned her to a nearby chair. “If I’m not going, you’re not going either.”

“Wenjing, you’re so annoying!”

The two older ladies then earnestly enjoyed the feast. This year was a bountiful year, so the food was abundant. Family members sat close, laughing happily.

Especially with the annual entertainment program, the atmosphere was livelier than most families.

Working children were asked about their jobs by elders and reminded to return to Red Star if anything happened. The all-capable “Big Bao” could fulfill any wish.

When Li Jie himself helped in the kitchen, Niu Erya patted his back. “Hey, so you really want twelve wives?”

“What else?”

“...”

Niu Erya was speechless. “I can’t say much, but you better be careful. Who would allow their son-in-law to have twelve wives?”

“Well, I didn’t choose a good family.”

“...”

Makes sense... or not!

Li Jie chuckled and whispered into Niu Erya’s ear, “Mom, you don’t know the situation. Let me tell you…”

After hearing, Niu Erya exclaimed, “What?! Ridiculous! She’s her aunt? You little monkey…”

“Wait, wait! There’s more. One has a psychological illness called ‘V-type Alpha Dependent Personality Disorder,’ and the other one too.”

“...”

Niu Erya’s hand gripping the spoon twitched, and she lightly tapped him on the forehead. “You never make things easy.”

“How about the first grandchild takes your surname, Niu?”

“...”

At this, Niu Erya took a deep breath and shot Li Jie a sharp look. “Now, go bring out the dishes!”

“Alright!”

Mother Niu didn’t actually have the surname Niu; her maiden name was Pei. Her husband was a martyr, and she was a widow.

Among all at Red Star, she was the most privileged. Thirty years ago, she was a second-generation wealthy heiress, her family one of the richest in the region, owning Cheng’an Company, founded by her father—making him Li Jie’s unofficial grandfather-in-law.

However, the marriage had broken down amid youthful drama and sorrow. After her husband Niu Xiu’s sacrifice, Pei Erya changed her name to Niu Erya.

Therefore, many children who studied and left Red Star over the years owed some gratitude to Niu Erya’s influence, being considered descendants of a martyr.

Niu Erya was genuinely upright—not as shrewd as She Qingchun nor as cunning as Shu Xiuqin, simply straightforward and honorable, making it impossible to find fault.

She took Li Jie’s absurd “twelve wives” claim as a joke, but the surprise and shock from her eldest son were equally great.

Li Jie was clever enough to grasp her true thoughts. She didn’t want her late husband’s lineage to end, but with her current ability, she was powerless.

Li Jie’s sudden promise that the first grandchild would bear her surname was a way to adopt the child into Niu Xiu’s line, preserving the family name.

Most of the worries were unnecessary. Neither Su Mengyao nor Gan Xinglu cared about what kind of child they’d have—whether a blob or a dinosaur egg made no difference.

One needed a protector in “Brother Jie,” the other sought a “dog-feeding play” from “Dog Master Jin.”

Neither was psychologically normal.

The conventional idea of “a mother’s status relies on her son” simply didn’t apply here.

Thus, Li Jie clarified the true status of the two “wives” to Niu Erya, so she wouldn’t have mental obstacles or trouble herself.

Now, there was no need for awkwardness, confusion, or psychological burden.

Even Li Jie himself couldn’t guarantee surviving another year or two. Ever since he tangled with Young Master Yang, life had become wildly unpredictable. If someday Su Mengyao and Gan Xinglu were caught in crossfire, then it would be their misfortune.

A huge pot of fresh seafood steamed to perfection—clams, sea snails, razor clams, mantis shrimp, spiny lobsters, prawns—all were represented.

They were simply poured onto the table every year, prompting Shu’s mother to complain for ten years, “You’re feeding pigs during New Year.”

“You’re feeding pigs?”

Shu Xiuqin couldn’t help but comment, though she tried to hold back, it slipped out as if instinct.

Everyone laughed heartily but quickly got to work eating.

“Eat it while it’s hot! These razor clams are huge, king clams!”

“Wow, mantis shrimp too?”

“They’re different; these are from the East China Sea, the previous ones from the South China Sea. These taste sweeter.”

“I’m almost full.”

“Brother Li, sing us a song to liven things up.”

“No!!!”

“Shut up!!!”

Some returning workers tried to stir up excitement but were immediately stopped.

On New Year’s Eve, just being alive was enough.

The final main dish was a fish—left uneaten to be enjoyed during the Lunar New Year. The other hearty dishes were already on the table: big pork knuckles, braised pork, claypot chicken, eight-treasure duck, stewed mutton, mutton cakes, mutton jelly, crystal pig’s knuckles, and braised beef.

Every year, it was a massive spread, and without twenty kitchen helpers, it would be impossible to manage.

There was no worry about leftovers; by the third day of the new year, everything would be gone—very different from other families who couldn’t finish their feasts during the entire festival.

“Erya, come sit down and eat.”

Shu Xiuqin called out, raising her glass with a smile. “It’s New Year’s today, and we’re all together again. I wish everyone success in their careers and studies, and may we always have joyful reunions and good health. Cheers!”

“Cheers~~”

The children loved the toast the most, raising their plastic cups filled with juice of every color. Taste didn’t matter; the key was to say “Cheers~~.”

It was truly amusing.

“Big Bao, Big Bao!”

Suddenly, Abao leaned close to Li Jie, excitedly whispering, “It’s snowing.”

“Oh? Really?”

Li Jie paused, then turned to look outside. There truly were twinkling, tiny specks.

Holding his cup, he stepped outside. As he opened the door, a chill swept in. The corridor was brightly lit, and the welfare home’s yard was clean and fresh. Above, the dark night hung suspended, scattering countless flakes—petal-like clusters of snow.

“It really is snowing.”

He reached out, catching a snowflake in his palm. Before he could inspect it carefully, it melted into a drop of water.

“An auspicious snowfall heralds a good year,” Li Jie said. Then he asked Abao, who had stayed at the welfare home year-round, “Shall we build a snowman together tomorrow?”

“No carrot for the nose.”

“We’ll buy one. I have money.”

“I have money too.”

As they walked back, Abao followed, chattering, “I have lots of money—over two thousand a month, two thousand eight hundred fifty-nine yuan, eight jiao, six fen.”

“Even eight jiao six fen?”

“It’s on my passbook. I withdraw from the bank by Qinglong Bridge to avoid fees. Other banks charge two yuan fees.”

“Then you buy firecrackers this year.”

“No problem! But I don’t know where to buy carrots. The shop owner went home for New Year.”

“I’ll buy the carrots.”

“Good.”

Abao nodded, feeling this plan was excellent. Big Bao truly was capable of anything.

Second update!

(End of chapter)