Chapter 110 – Revealing True Feelings

They exchanged glances in silence, their eyes vacant and lost.

The awkwardness of a future son-in-law visiting his mother-in-law finally befell Lu Xugao on this day.

He recalled the wedding of his cousin, Lu Xuyang. He and several groomsmen stood to the right of the groom, dumbfounded as they watched the ceremony unfold.

On Lu Xuyang’s mother-in-law’s face, expressions piled up—indescribable. Whether she was reluctant to let her daughter marry away or resentful of her son-in-law’s family background, he couldn’t tell.

He remembered once offering heartfelt advice, the kind that came from experience—falling in love is a matter between two people; marriage is a matter between two families. If you can’t balance the relationship between the families, don’t marry, and even don’t fall in love. Although, in today’s society, speaking of love feels almost pretentious…

He hadn’t finished the thought. Perhaps, what he left unsaid was the very wound in his own heart, riddled with scars.

Yet, when facing aging and death, courage inevitably grows thin.

Lu Xugao sensed this vaguely. Despite the mature and rational composure he wore, fitting for his age.

He needed no further reminders; he already knew his cousin’s mother-in-law was not easy to get along with. Some things she said were so harsh that even outsiders felt humiliated.

He resolved then: when seeking a partner, the first step was to investigate the mother. Yet, life never unfolds according to a script one has written.

“I plan to marry Xiaolu,” he said, pressing his fingernails hard into his palm, using the sudden sting to bolster his wavering courage. He stood up and said, “I think it’s my duty to come and tell you personally.”

“So, you’re here today to notify me, not to discuss it?” Yan’s mother spoke bluntly; in truth, she had no need to be polite.

Yes, notifying you is my purpose. But that’s only part of my plan. “I’m here to ask for your understanding, hoping you’ll give us your blessing.”

“What if I object?” she threatened.

“Then there’s nothing I can do,” he replied calmly. “We only hope for your blessing, not your opposition.”

Yan’s mother laughed, “So you’re a boss now, and your temper’s grown, too. You’ve got quite the presence.” She let her crossed arms fall. The timid, cowardly mouse of a young man now dared to give this old cat a taste of her own medicine.

Lu Xugao stared at Yan’s mother in astonishment. Her ability to gather information rivaled that of an intelligence officer. When he and Yan Lu had confirmed their relationship for less than a week, she had come knocking to demand answers. The subsequent chain of events was largely her doing—a true master behind the scenes.

After losing contact, she had certainly kept track of their situation at all times. So, upon realizing she knew everything happening in Yunbei, Lu Xugao was no longer surprised. Besides, Yan’s father had received the news immediately; with his timid nature, he likely leaked the secret in just a few words.

“People must learn to change and grow,” Lu Xugao said, a gentle smile on his lips.

Indeed, he had changed and grown much. Yan’s mother’s gaze sharpened, scrutinizing him directly. Perhaps, it was the wrong beginning that made the journey so winding. Now, as they struggled to return from the detours to the right path, was it fate, or was it their destined end?

Yan’s father returned from nearby errands. Seeing the door half open, he complained about Yan’s mother’s lack of security awareness, fearing dire consequences if an intruder came in. Hearing voices, he pushed the door open. “Why are you all standing?”

“Uncle, you’re back,” Lu Xugao said, relieved to see Yan’s father, as if rescued.

“Xugao, what brings you here?” Yan’s father was equally delighted. “Why didn’t you let me know ahead of time? I could have prepared.” He gave him a meaningful look; his heart beat faster.

“What preparations do you want to make?” Yan’s mother’s eyes flashed with a fierce glare. “Are you so idle, with nothing to do all day?”

Yan’s father quickly put on a smile. “A guest deserves some respect, you know.”

“I’ll give respect if I want, and if not, I won’t,” Yan’s mother retorted, giving him no face.

Yan’s father found her unreasonable and stopped arguing, snorting through his nose. “Xugao, is there something you need to say today?” For years, the young man before him had never dared to face this formidable woman alone. This was a war, or perhaps a powder keg ready to explode.

“I’m here to talk about my marriage with Xiaolu,” he said directly.

Yan’s father was stunned, his eyes nearly popping out. Was he mad, or had he grown bold enough to bring this up in front of her? After they returned from Yunbei last time, though he hadn’t asked beforehand, she interrogated him thoroughly afterward.

He had muddled through with vague answers.

Women are naturally suspicious, prone to embellishing and imagining things at will.

He was anxious, uneasy day and night.

Yan’s father kept signaling with his eyes.

“No need for signals,” Yan’s mother said, disdainful. “He already told me when he walked in.” She raised her eyebrows proudly. “Even if he hadn’t, I’d have known anyway.”

“You knew already?” Yan’s father stammered. “How did you know, and when?”

“You think I’m as muddle-headed as you?” Shadows gathered once more on her face.

During the days when Yan Lu was missing, Yan’s mother, though she spoke fiercely—claiming she had no such unfilial, shameless daughter—privately visited police stations, begged officers, and searched aimlessly for her daughter’s traces.

She could distinguish anger from worry, worry from care.

When she learned Yan Lu had been found, she hid in her bedroom, sobbing uncontrollably.

When she learned Yan’s father was going to visit Yan Lu, she quietly followed him—just to catch a glimpse of her daughter.

When she heard the joyful news that her daughter was to be married, she wept both with sorrow and with joy.

That day, after Yan’s father secretly took a phone call and slipped out, his gaze evasive, she guessed with her keen intuition that it was related to Yan Lu.

She boarded the same bus as him, sitting in front while he sat at the back. Anxious, he never noticed her passing by, nor imagined she was watching him from the rear, monitoring his every move.

Sure enough, he went to see their daughter. Yan’s mother hid behind a camphor tree, watching carefully. She dared not approach, fearing discovery. She couldn’t hear all their conversation, but understood its essence.

“Come, sit down,” Yan’s mother said, licking her lips. “Dinner’s ready, let’s eat first.” She turned toward the kitchen, pausing at the door. “You stay for a bite, too.”

“Thank you, I will,” Lu Xugao replied, overjoyed.

Yan’s father patted his shoulder, exchanged a glance, equally delighted.

The meal was calm. Yan’s mother put away her sharp words, rendered almost speechless. Yan’s father, lacking her cue, remained silent. In this home, for more than twenty years, he never held the initiative in conversation.

Lu Xugao ate quietly, feeling uneasy; her unusual behavior made his hair stand on end.

“When do you plan to get married?” Yan’s mother placed a piece of fish belly in his bowl.

Lu Xugao was caught off guard, trembling as he accepted it.

“In spring next year,” he said slowly. “I hope to discuss the exact date with you both.”

“Once you’ve decided, don’t change it easily,” she said, swallowing her food. “Lulu isn’t young anymore. After the New Year, she’ll be twenty-six or twenty-seven.”

“You agree, Huijuan?” Yan’s father was dumbfounded.

“Do I have a choice?” Yan’s mother’s expression shifted between sunshine and gloom. “She’s already threatened her life; how could I still object?”

...

“Did she make things difficult for you?” Yan Lu’s brows knit into a worried crease.

“No, she agreed,” Lu Xugao shook his head.

“She agreed?”

“Yes, she did.”

How could that be? Mother was always resolute—her decisions never changed by human effort. Yet, Xugao would never lie to me. So this matter, it’s true?

“Do you blame me?” Lu Xugao asked, seeing her silent as a sculpture.

“No.”

How could I blame you? I ought to thank you. It’s you who always stood behind me, supporting this wall on the verge of collapse. Even painstakingly rebuilding it for me. You always consider my feelings in everything, always thinking of me.

Those harmful substances buried deep in the soil—it was he who tirelessly removed them. Those exposed roots—he covered them with fresh earth again.

To love someone is not to ask what she needs, but to know what she needs.