Chapter Twenty-Four: He’s Become Addicted to Playing the Victim

While the Song household was in an uproar, Wei Yao’s side remained peaceful. Although Song Mingrui had not fully recovered, he could walk around without much difficulty. Song Yang clung to him every day, and Song Hui loved being held by him.

With a little over half a month left, Wei Yao spent every day at the photo studio, determined to learn as much as she could. She had read plenty of books on photography, but in the end, it was all just theory. She was not used to the old-fashioned cameras in her spatial storage; by the time she decided to take revenge on Song Liping in her past life, the first camera she had bought was already digital. There were many things from this era she had not experienced before, and she had to learn them bit by bit.

The photo studio had not looked down on her for using connections to secure an examination opportunity. To leave after only half a month felt rather ungracious. Because of this, Wei Yao worked exceptionally hard. In addition to learning photography from her mentor and developing photos and making frames, she helped organize clothing, change backdrops, and even cleaned the studio and her colleagues’ workstations.

When she returned home in the evening, she was greeted by the aroma of food as soon as she pushed open the door. She parked her bicycle and hurried to the kitchen.

"Why are you cooking? Stop fussing. Let me do it. You’re still injured; you should be resting."

"Cooking isn’t hard. Most of these were prepared for the New Year; I just need to reheat them and add some cabbage and tofu. You go rest. You were out all day, and Huihui and Yangyang missed you dearly. Go see them."

Wei Yao pursed her lips. Perhaps because her previous life had been so bitter, she was still unaccustomed to someone treating her well—especially since this man was her cowardly husband who had died young in her past life. She nodded, then realized he couldn't see her back, and added, "Okay."

After Wei Yao left, Song Mingrui looked at the boiling soup in the pot and let out a soft sigh. His wife seemed polite toward him; although she was no longer angry, there was always a sense of distance between them. He had to do something, or the longer it went on, the more thoughts she would harbor.

During dinner, Song Mingrui insisted that Wei Yao eat while he took over feeding the children and putting food on their plates. When they were nearly finished, he brought up a topic.

"Zheng Li came by today. He said the house in Yucheng is ready. The wives of some of the other soldiers helped tidy it up. It’s a decent-sized yard. Political Commissar Qin’s wife took the initiative to help us till the soil in the yard, saying you could grow whatever vegetables you like once you get there."

Wei Yao was stunned for a moment. "That’s too much trouble for them."

"Not at all. They were thrilled to hear I was bringing my wife. Political Commissar Qin is like a mentor to me; he was the one who selected me when I enlisted, and he even helped hide it from the Song family."

"What? Hid it from the Song family? Why?"

Song Mingrui sighed, set down his chopsticks, and looked at Wei Yao with a sorrowful expression. The latter felt a pang of heartache as well.

"Xiaoyao, I’m actually not the Song family’s biological son. I was adopted. My parents didn't have children after they married and were afraid of gossip, so they wanted to adopt. As it happened, there was a family in my grandmother’s village with too many children to feed who wanted to give away their youngest son. The year after I was adopted, Mother became pregnant with Liping. Since I was little, I was always told to yield to my sister, to prioritize her because she was a girl, to save the best things for her, and that she needed a decent job and an education because she would marry into another family. I didn't need those things; I was a boy and had to earn what I wanted. Everything in the house belonged to my sister. I stayed because of the debt of raising me, and for years, I didn't fall out with the Song family. Later, when I was on missions, I didn't dare put you and the children in danger, so I had to leave you in the Song family’s care. That’s why at that time I..."

"I sent my salary home in two parts, but I was foolish. I thought a man should be the pillar of the family, and I wanted the in-laws to hold me in high regard. I listened to that old harpy Chang Yongqin and handed over all my wages. Looking back at how hard life was, it was partly my own fault!"

Song Mingrui took her hand and couldn't help but stroke it.

"It’s all in the past, wife. This time, I want to take you, Yangyang, and Huihui away. As for the Song family, I have no intention of seeing them, nor do I want them to know our whereabouts."

"Hmm!"

A family that vile—it would be best never to see them again. Otherwise, if they did something disgraceful, they would be dragged down and shamed along with them. Wei Yao looked at the somewhat dejected Song Mingrui, her eyes flashing with tenderness.

That night, after coaxing the two children to sleep, Wei Yao was just about to lie down when an arm stretched out from under her neck.

"What are you..."

"Wife, I know my temperament is different from before, and it makes you uncomfortable. But think back to when we first met; isn’t this exactly how I was? Wife, I missed you so much. We can finally live a peaceful life soon. I feel like my half-life of drifting has finally found a harbor. Xiaoyao, can I... can I hold you?"

Wei Yao: "..."

You’ve really become addicted to playing the pitiful one. Do you really think I’m an idiot?

Seeing that she didn't speak, Song Mingrui slowly moved closer to her, then closer still. His hands became bolder; what had been a stiff arm resting under her neck turned into him pulling her directly into his embrace, while his other hand quietly rested on her waist. In the darkness, Wei Yao felt him kiss the top of her head. She sighed inwardly; life must always move forward.

The next morning, Wei Yao prepared a sumptuous breakfast: mutton and radish potstickers, millet porridge, steamed buns, and two stir-fried dishes—cabbage with tofu and eggs with green onions. On the stove, a clay pot of sauerkraut and pork bones was simmering.

Song Mingrui woke up a bit late. Having finally held her in his arms—with that sense of connection where there were no barriers and both their hearts and minds were one—the stone in his heart finally fell, and he felt much more relaxed. Once relaxed, he became a bit lazy.

After washing up, he sat in the main room to eat. Wei Yao fed Song Hui while giving him instructions.

"We’ve stockpiled a lot of vegetables and coal. We’ll take whatever we can. I’ll give the rest to the neighbors and my colleagues at the textile mill. The things in the small room were bought and left untouched, so they’ll be easy to pack. Oh, and my job at the photo studio was secured through your transport team director, Lü Guangyao. Should we treat him to a meal before we go?"

Song Mingrui was smiling as he watched her speak, but his brows furrowed slightly at the mention of Lü Guangyao.

"Treat him to a meal? He should be the one treating us to a meal to apologize and make amends. The organization tasked him with looking after you. Look at how you and the children lived! He only helped you because he felt guilty. The reason he hasn't dared to show his face since I returned is that he’s afraid I’ll break his legs."

Wei Yao: "..."

So that was how it was?