Wang Qiqi and Han Tao navigated the morning rush, enduring the bus and then the subway ride to the train station. By the exit gate, Wang Qiqi was leaning against the railing, stifling yawns. A poor soul—she'd worked late yesterday, only to be up at the crack of dawn to meet them. Even worse, she was stuck entertaining Song Yao and the others for the next few days.

As Song Yao and her group finally emerged into Wang Qiqi’s anxious gaze, she bounced up and down, waving wildly so they wouldn't miss her in the throng. “Cousin Song Yao, Brother-in-law Gong Peixing, Cousin Song Ziwen, Sister-in-law Yang Jing.” She spotted Tao Tao wasn't with them and felt a wave of relief; traveling with a child meant constant vigilance—a sudden chill or overexcitement leading to illness would be a major headache.

Song Yao’s party moved passively with the stream of exiting passengers, wondering if Qiqi had made it. It wasn't a weekend, and their train had arrived early. When they heard their names called and glimpsed a small figure jumping energetically through the crowd, Song Ziwen muttered, “That girl Qiqi looks less like a twenty-something college student and more like the eight-year-old next door.” Seeing Qiqi waiting brought him relief, but his tongue remained sharp.

Song Yao stood aside, listening to her younger brother’s disingenuous jab. “Careful, or Qiqi will hear you…” She knew how much Qiqi hated being called young. With casual acquaintances, Qiqi might hide her displeasure, but with close family, the debt would be repaid later, with interest. Song Yao could already picture how her cousin would exact revenge for being labeled a mere toddler.

Song Ziwen knew he was only daring to vent now; saying such things to Qiqi's face would be suicidal. “Sis, are you really my sister?” He felt utterly wronged. Usually, it was the sisters-in-law who clashed, but here, the tables were turned. His own sister, Song Yao, shared secrets with Qiqi that his wife, Yang Jing, wouldn't—a predicament that left Song Ziwen utterly exposed. “Sis, it was just a slip of the tongue. You wouldn't betray your own brother, would you?” Though he knew Song Yao was generally good to him, when Qiqi was the opposing party, he couldn't guarantee his sister’s loyalty. In Song Yao’s heart, Cousin Qiqi's standing far surpassed that of her own brother.

Song Yao paid no mind to her brother’s pleading. Please, why should I give this kid a break? A real brother is someone you sell out for favor. Especially when selling him out meant gaining favor with Qiqi. The helpless Song Ziwen glanced at his wife, who was trying to stifle laughter beside him. He felt truly miserable. It was one thing for his sister not to help—after all, Qiqi was practically a godsend to Song Yao—but why wasn't his wife taking his side? Was he really such a failure as a person? Disappointed that no one seemed to love him, Song Ziwen decided he’d better save himself. “Sis, for the sake of your sister-in-law’s future happiness, you wouldn’t sell out your own brother, would you?”

Song Yao was surprised her brother had brought his wife into it. “Oh, why would I tell Qiqi anything? You are my brother.” Song Yao reached out and patted Song Ziwen’s head, just as she had when he was small.

Despite Song Yao’s sincerity, Song Ziwen knew his elder sister well enough. If he hadn't mentioned Yang Jing, she would have sold him out instantly. He kept this thought to himself, though. My sister is such a kind person. Kind person my foot; she’s just someone who sells her brother out for a quick win.

Song Yao watched him with amusement. If his eyelids hadn't twitched just then, she might have believed his thanks were genuine. Alas. Still, she couldn't press her brother too hard, especially with her sister-in-law watching. “That’s good. Remember, I’m letting you off because of our Jingjing.”

Yang Jing covered her mouth, giggling. She knew this was her sister-in-law granting her face. Since getting married and moving out, she’d heard endless whispers from colleagues, friends, and relatives, knowing that Song Yao and her family were still living in the maternal home. If she hadn't known about the in-laws’ wealth, or remembered how stifling it was living with her in-laws for the first week of marriage, she might have resented Song Yao. As it was, Yang Jing was profoundly grateful that her sister-in-law was staying at the old house; otherwise, her mother-in-law never would have agreed to let them move out. Moreover, Song Yao often bought her things and never forgot to include her when stocking up on snacks or fruit. When Yang Jing told her colleagues, they accused Song Yao of trying to lay claim to the family property and called Yang Jing naive. After a few attempts to explain, Yang Jing gave up, realizing her own mother was right: people who didn't get along with their in-laws often wished others didn't either.

After waiting for about ten minutes, Wang Qiqi finally greeted them. “Sis, was the journey hard? Why didn’t you bring Tao Tao?”

Han Tao, ever observant, had already taken the luggage from Gong Peixing and struck up a conversation. He knew that once three women got together, they’d entirely forget the three men trailing behind them, even their own husbands.

“Bringing Tao Tao meant he couldn't enjoy himself, and besides, we have a mission this trip.” Song Yao mused that since she was pregnant during the wedding, she and Gong Peixing never had a proper honeymoon. This trip, coinciding with buying a house and Song Ziwen’s couple coming to Beijing for their own honeymoon, was her chance to relax—why invite a burden? “Mom also said not to bring Tao Tao to the city; he’s too young. We’ll bring him when he’s older. This time, we’re going all out.”

What Song Yao was reluctant to admit was the list of instructions she’d received from the matriarch just before leaving. One key point was leaving Tao Tao behind: the fear that the child might not acclimatize to the city and thus disrupt Song Ziwen and his wife’s crucial mission of carrying on the Old Song family line. Song Yao sighed at the difference between how a grandson and a maternal grandson were viewed, but conceded it was better this way; it was much easier for her mother to insist on keeping Tao Tao than for them to request it.

Wang Qiqi noticed a flicker of unease cross Song Yao’s face and wondered if there was more to Tao Tao being absent. “That’s true, Tao Tao is too young to remember anything, other than a few photos. Sis, you all save up your money. Once Xiao Tao and I settle down in the States, you can bring him over for a trip.”

To the States? Yang Jing was startled by Wang Qiqi’s casual mention of going abroad. It seemed easy for her young sister-in-law, but the cost would crush them. Even if Qiqi covered food and lodging in the US, the round-trip airfare alone for two would run at least thirty thousand, plus gifts for the trip—the expenses were endless. Yang Jing knew Song Ziwen was wealthy, but he was also deeply in debt to the bank. She quietly disapproved of the siblings’ relentless property buying spree; as an economics graduate, the constant mortgage payments kept her awake at night. Yet, they were planning to buy another house in Beijing, likely with another loan. Yang Jing was exasperated but didn't know how to advise Song Ziwen.

Song Yao, oblivious to Yang Jing’s inner turmoil, was thrilled. “Deal! In a few years, when my Tao Tao starts kindergarten, I’ll take him for his first taste of foreign life. Your brother-in-law and I are saving up so we can send Tao Tao abroad for further studies later, and we’ll travel too.”

“Exactly! Then you can retire on your domestic pensions and collect a second pension in the US. Life will be sweet,” Wang Qiqi chimed in, supporting Song Yao. “Oh, by the way, Sis, I booked you a hotel downtown. It’ll be easier for you and Sister-in-law to shop, and convenient for visiting the Forbidden City or Wangfujing.” Qiqi had initially considered a place near the university for easier meetups, but then realized her suburban location was inconvenient. Her sister was here primarily for the house purchase, but tourism was the major draw.

“Done,” Song Yao agreed instantly. “If you and Xiao Tao have time, come visit. If not, we’ll manage. When are we looking at the house?” Until the main business was concluded, she couldn't relax. Having so much money on a card felt precarious; losing it to thieves would be devastating, even if they could get a replacement card, it meant another costly trip back to Beijing.

“Tomorrow. I’ve already confirmed with Nana. We’ll go check out the neighborhood first, and then Nana will show us the reserved units.” Wang Qiqi knew Song Yao would be anxious, so she had arranged the viewing as soon as she knew their arrival date. “We’ll choose together, Sis. Let’s pick apartments on the same floor—we can be neighbors!”

“Neighbors?” Song Yao scoffed at the idea of living next door in such an expensive purchase. “Collecting rent is the priority. When your nephew is successful, we’ll buy a villa and live together.” (To be continued.)