Smart
Captain Luo and his wife moved into the compound and invited a few people from his unit over for a housewarming meal, marking the start of their life in the compound.
Ever the busybody, Commander Jiang went over to see the new couple and was delighted to find Captain Luo washing clothes outside.
Watching him, Commander Jiang clicked his tongue and praised sarcastically, “Look at those movements—so skilled! You’re doing a fantastic job; they’re spotless.”
Captain Luo was fuming inside, thinking, To hell with being a ‘good man.’ What was I thinking, trying to be one in this compound?
Now he was stuck doing chores and planting flowers—chores that even Zhu Hui had never asked him to do. I’ve really married a nightmare, he thought bitterly.
But in front of others, he had to grit his teeth and smile, and he couldn’t even insult that “cursed” woman. After all, this was the third wife he’d painstakingly married.
…If he lost this one, he’d be onto a fourth or even fifth marriage—and he’d end up notorious across the whole military district.
Three marriages, and the third wife was a nightmare.
Captain Luo scrubbed at the clothes with a cold expression. “Didn’t you wash your own clothes before you got married?”
“Oh, I did,” Commander Jiang laughed. “But weren’t you the one who said only fools wash their own clothes after marriage? That the point of having a wife is to have her handle the chores and kids?”
“Who’d marry just to bring an ‘ancestor’ home?”
Captain Luo felt a complex mix of emotions, and while he wanted to say he’d done this for “love,” he couldn’t bring himself to say it when he thought of Zhang Lirong and her antics.
Love, my foot.
Exasperated, Captain Luo said, “Go away already. You’re a commander—don’t you have better things to do?”
Commander Jiang chuckled. “You should learn from our Gu Sheng. Now that’s a good, reliable officer.”
Captain Luo felt like he’d go mad. “Doesn’t anyone in your unit do any actual work?”
Commander Jiang laughed again. “Our Gu is great at growing flowers; didn’t your wife want roses too?”
“Get lost!”
Commander Jiang enjoyed the scene for a bit longer, wiping away imaginary drool as he regretted aloud, “I’ll come by next time when you’re washing diapers.”
Captain Luo’s face darkened. “I don’t want to see you again.”
Meanwhile, Director Li stopped by the Luo household to check on the newlyweds. She couldn’t shake a feeling of unease, sensing something strange about the couple’s dynamic. Even so, she hoped they could settle down peacefully.
Later, Director Li visited the Gu household and told Zhan Aiping, “Captain Luo and his wife are both strong personalities. I wonder if the east wind will overcome the west wind or the other way around.”
Zhan Aiping laughed, “You noticed too?”
Captain Luo was certainly not a pushover, and it seemed that Zhang Lirong wasn’t easy to deal with either. They were like two peas in a pod—an oddly fitting match.
“Enough about them; let’s talk about the kids,” Director Li said, her energy perking up at the topic. She’d had three sons who had all gone into the military, none of whom were particularly clever or socially astute, which disappointed her. Her youngest, a son she affectionately called “Sour Bamboo Shoot,” was now a year old and was the first of her children to start speaking early. He seemed much smarter than her older three boys.
“Our little Sour Bamboo Shoot is loud and mischievous. He started talking early. How old was your Guobaorou when he started talking?” Director Li asked. As far as she knew, her little Sour Bamboo Shoot was the earliest talker among the recent babies in the compound. Shen Liqing’s son, Sour Fish, seemed almost developmentally delayed—he barely spoke, whether from laziness or a complete lack of desire to talk.
Zhan Aiping replied, “Around a year, I think. I can’t remember exactly.”
Director Li tutted. “How can a mother not remember? Unacceptable!”
“And how is your little Guobaorou’s talking these days?”
“Not bad. He can recite poems and write a little,” Zhan Aiping replied casually.
Director Li’s eyes widened, her mouth twitching. “He’s only around two, and he can recite poems and write?”
Zhan Aiping nodded. “Yes, he even knows how to write my name. I didn’t teach him; he figured it out himself. I actually discourage him from writing—his little fingers haven’t developed enough, and it’s not good to start too early.”
It was true that Guobaorou could write, though he didn’t hold the pen properly. Instead, he would grip it with his whole fist and scrawl on paper. Initially, she’d thought he was scribbling, but then she realized he’d actually written her name—Zhan Aiping. Though the handwriting was rough, it was still her name!
Director Li thought Zhan was exaggerating. Her own sons couldn’t even write their names at five, and here was this two-year-old writing his mother’s name? At two, they were usually still wetting the bed!
“Call your little Guobaorou over and let me hear him recite a poem,” Director Li said.
Zhan Aiping called her son over. “Youyou, come here and recite a poem for Auntie Li.”
With his hands clasped behind his back, little Guobaorou recited, “The farmer hoes the midday field, his sweat drips on the soil. Who knows that on this plate of food, each grain of rice takes toil.”
Dressed in shorts and a shirt with a little tiger patch that his dad had sewn on, the serious expression on his round face as he recited made him look both comically mature and irresistibly adorable.
Every time she saw him like this, Zhan Aiping wondered where he’d picked up such an old-fashioned demeanour.
Director Li was stunned. “Do you make him recite poems every day?”
“We don’t teach him at home. He must have learned it in day-care.”
Director Li asked, “Youyou, do you know what that poem means?”
Guobaorou answered earnestly, “It means to cherish food and not waste it.”
Director Li was speechless.
“My goodness, you’ve got a prodigy!”
Zhan Aiping replied modestly, “He’s not that impressive.”
In truth, she was astonished. Since starting day-care, Guobaorou had suddenly blossomed in a group of kids his age. His memory was sharp, and he absorbed new information quickly, like a little sponge, rapidly understanding adults’ meanings and becoming increasingly clever.
Zhan Aiping was almost a bit scared.
Although she had hoped for bright kids, she hadn’t expected such intelligence. Could her little one really be a child prodigy?
She would have doubted his abilities were it not for those moments when he still showed a hilariously naive side.
Director Li was dumbfounded. “He’s only been in school a short while and already knows so much?”
“…It can be a bit of a headache,” Zhan admitted.
Director Li, who had initially come to show off her own clever child, left marvelling at “the Gu family’s child prodigy.”
When she returned home and looked at her own little Sour Bamboo Shoot, she couldn’t help but feel like he didn’t seem quite as brilliant.
Wait, but my Sour Bamboo Shoot started talking earlier than Guobaorou. Maybe he’ll be even smarter someday!
As Director Li left, Zhan Aiping knelt down to her son, pinching his chubby cheeks.
Since he’d become smarter and more mature, he’d lost some of his innocent charm.
He used to enjoy playing with cars and would even get bullied sometimes, but now that he was aware of his intelligence, he was showing hints of narcissism.
He would come up to her and say, “Mommy, little sister is so silly.”
“She can’t do this or that.”
“Mommy, I’m amazing! I’m smarter than anyone!”
With his smug little face, Zhan Aiping herself wanted to humble him a bit.
She started questioning her original parenting philosophy.
Having grown up with strict, tough love, she’d wanted a different approach for her twins. She had decided on positive reinforcement, thinking she would always encourage and praise them…
But before she could even get a word in, her son was already boasting?
—So, should she praise him or not?
If she praised him more, would he get an even bigger head? With such a big ego, he already seemed to believe he was a child prodigy, eager to show off his skills.
But if she didn’t praise him, would she have to turn into her own strict mother, Ai Feihong, and start a new round of critical, harsh parenting?
Zhan Aiping sighed, What a headache.
Guobaorou and Tangyuan were twins, but while Tangyuan was clearly a typical child, speaking in simple sentences and expressing herself as a normal one- or two-year-old would, she didn’t show her brother’s exceptional intelligence.
Would it be an issue for them to spend so much time together?
How could Guobaorou call his sister “silly”?
Oh boy, Zhan thought. He’s not mischievous, but he’s certainly becoming conceited! At this rate, he’d end up a natural critic, lacking humility and believing himself to be unbeatable.
“Mommy, aren’t I great at reciting poems? I’m way smarter than little sister—she’s too silly.”
Even though he was bright, he still loved the warmth of his mother’s praise and was eager to win her affection, sometimes belittling his sister in the process.
“Youyou, you’re very clever,” Zhan said, gently pinching his cheek. “But you can’t call your sister silly.”
Guobaorou declared loudly, “But Mommy, she really is silly!”
Zhan Aiping: “?”
Guobaorou added, “But I don’t mind her. I’m a good big brother.”
“Mommy, I say words twice like her too,” he said proudly, tilting his head back to look at her. “Mommy, I want meat-meat. Eating meat-meat makes you smart.”
“I use my brain a lot, so I need to eat a bit more. Little sister can eat a bit less.”
Zhan Aiping: “…?”
Is my son a little piglet at heart?
You can’t do this, little guy.
At his age, he was already showing arrogance and a lack of empathy, complaining, “Little sister can’t even do something so simple.”
On the surface, he appeared polite, but underneath, he had begun to realize he was above average. This led to a budding sense of superiority and self-importance.
“More meat means more strength,” Zhan said. “Tangyuan, come arm-wrestle with your brother!”
Tangyuan skipped over excitedly in her little dress. “Brother, let’s arm-wrestle!”
Guobaorou: “…”
Tangyuan grabbed his hand and quickly pinned it to the side; Guobaorou couldn’t resist her strength.
Tangyuan burst into giggles, “Mommy, brother is so weak!”
It was a simple, innocent comment, but Guobaorou’s expression soured. This is why he wanted to eat more meat than his sister.
Zhan Aiping sighed internally.
Her son was the clever one, and her daughter had inherited all the strength. It was as if she and Gu Sheng’s talents had split evenly, but when passed down to their children, they’d transformed in unexpected ways.
After her lively daughter Tangyuan won the arm-wrestling match, she proudly announced, “Mommy, I’m so strong!”
Zhan Aiping was left speechless. Whether it’s one child or the other, they seem to be full of confidence and don’t seem to need any encouragement from me.
When Gu Sheng returned that evening, Zhan Aiping commented, “Your son’s smug attitude reminds me a lot of how you were as a kid.”
He’d look all well-behaved but end up veering in unpredictable directions.
As she rested her chin in her hand, Zhan Aiping’s writer’s imagination ran wild. Her eldest son was beginning to seem like the arrogant, sharp-tongued genius from romance stories who was destined to bring home a cute, ditzy daughter-in-law someday. Or maybe, in line with the trend of dual-scholars in stories, her daughter would grow up to be a lovable, strong-minded character?
Gu Sheng chimed in, “Daughter looks like me but has your straightforward personality. Simple and direct.”
She did everything earnestly, and it was irresistibly endearing. Gu Sheng never expected that a face so much like his own could appear so sweet and naive.
“My silly girl,” he chuckled.
Zhan Aiping glared at him. “Who are you calling silly? You and your whole family are silly!”
Gu Sheng laughed, “Alright, alright. My wife is straightforward.”
She was straightforward indeed, never one to beat around the bush.
“Daughter, come here and ride on Daddy’s shoulders!” Zhan Aiping called Tangyuan over, happily lifting her energetic little girl onto Gu Sheng’s shoulders.
Perched up high, Tangyuan was thrilled and started making sound effects, “Giddy-up! Giddy-up!”
Zhan Aiping couldn’t stop laughing as she mischievously encouraged her, “Good girl! Grab Daddy’s hair and hold onto the reins!”
Gu Sheng shot her a look. “What kind of lesson is that?”
Tangyuan tried hard to grab her dad’s hair, but since it was cut so short, she couldn’t manage. She looked at her empty hands longingly.
She kicked her legs, giggling, and called out, “Giddy-up! Giddy-up! Mommy, come here!”
Tangyuan waved her little hands, and when Zhan Aiping walked over, Tangyuan grabbed a handful of her mother’s hair, pulling enthusiastically as she chanted, “Giddy-up!”
Startled, Zhan Aiping yelped in pain.
“Ouch! Let go, let go! No pulling Mommy’s hair!”
From the side, Gu Sheng couldn’t resist a teasing comment, “Caught in your own trap.”
Little Guobaorou came trotting over, hands behind his back, like a little old man. “Mommy, little sister really is silly.”
Zhan Aiping: “…”
Tangyuan, meanwhile, was cheerful and generous, inviting her brother, “Brother, do you want to ride too?”
Even though her brother often called her silly, she was a cheerful soul who loved to share.
Guobaorou wrinkled his nose, “Hmph, that’s a game for little kids.”
Zhan Aiping raised an eyebrow. Who do you think you are, at barely two years old, thinking you’re grown up already?
Her son’s little face resembled her own so closely, and yet, how did he manage to be so exasperating?
This little rascal was so stubborn.
Though he was craning his neck with longing, he wouldn’t say he wanted to ride. He acted like he needed to be invited like a little prince, putting on airs at such a young age.
Pretending not to care, yet his desire was obvious.
“Want to ride, big brother?” Zhan Aiping asked.
After a moment of contemplation, Guobaorou nodded solemnly, “Yes!”
And he wanted to pull on Mommy’s hair too. If his sister could, he should be able to as well.
Now thoroughly exasperated by the tugging on her hair, Zhan Aiping muttered, “If you think your sister is silly, why are you copying her? Who’s the silly one now?”
In her heart, she thought, My son’s a little smart aleck, way too proud for his own good.
These two little rascals!
That night, after the kids were fast asleep, Zhan Aiping snuggled into Gu Sheng’s arms to whisper about the day’s events. “I used to think that having well-behaved kids who didn’t climb walls was a blessing, but having such clever kids brings its own headaches.”
Not wanting her whispers to reach the little ones, she leaned in close, practically speaking into Gu Sheng’s ear.
Gu Sheng felt ticklish as she whispered, rubbing his ear and murmuring, “Let’s set them up to sleep in their own room with little beds.”
With both kids sleeping in their bedroom, it was seriously affecting their private time. Even if they wanted to make any noise, they had to hold back. He was more than ready to set the two little ones free.
Zhan Aiping hesitated. “Isn’t it a bit too soon?”
“Your son is unusually clever,” Gu Sheng replied.
Zhan Aiping sighed, “Do I really have a prodigy on my hands?”
She rubbed her face. “Who knows… it’s not certain.”
The kids were still so young. Just because he seemed precocious now didn’t mean he’d always be exceptional; sometimes, the real growth spurts came later, like her own.
“Remember Qin Lu from the old neighbourhood?” she asked.
“Of course,” Gu Sheng replied.
“She was a standout as a kid—smart, pretty, sweet, sang and danced, played violin, did well in school, and was polite to adults,” she recalled.
Gu Sheng nodded.
“Why are you nodding?!” Zhan Aiping’s annoyance flared. Even though it was childhood history, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. Growing up, she hadn’t been remarkable. As the eldest daughter of Ai Feihong, who was not one to care about appearances, Zhan Aiping had been left unstyled. At two or three, she’d had a shaved head, then an awkwardly cut bob, so at five or six, people often mistook her for a boy or a tomboy.
She was tone-deaf, lacked coordination in dance, and had terrible haircuts. When the other little girls performed in pretty dresses, she was always excluded. Meanwhile, Qin Lu, with her pigtails and graceful manner, was like a little swan, while she’d been the ugly duckling.
As the youngest and best-looking son of the Gu family, Gu Sheng had been carefully groomed by his parents, making him stand out. Everyone thought he and Qin Lu made a handsome pair in the neighbourhood.
People even joked that the two of them would play the bride and groom when they played pretend. Not that Gu Sheng had cooperated much—he’d always insisted on being the “grandpa” with a flock of “grandchildren,” since little kids loved creating family ties.
Zhan Aiping playfully bit Gu Sheng on the neck. “I always thought you’d end up marrying Qin Lu.”
“You—” Gu Sheng was both exasperated and amused. “Just as long as our daughter doesn’t grow up as silly as her mom.”
“Did I ever even talk to her?” he added. “We were just kids.”
“I mean, I’m talking about way back then,” Zhan mumbled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Anyway, it didn’t matter much. Qin Lu didn’t exactly grow up as remarkable as we all thought.”
In high school, Qin Lu had lost her charm; her features became less striking, her singing was unremarkable, her dancing mediocre, and her academic performance average at best.
“To me, you’ve always been the standout,” Gu Sheng said, smiling.
“Oh, you just know how to sweet-talk,” Zhan chuckled.
“No, really,” he said. “I always liked to tease you. It’s been the same since we were little.”
Alright, so maybe Zhan Aiping had always been known as “Big Sis Zhan” with a crowd of little buddies. She couldn’t sing or dance or wear pigtails or red dresses, but she had her own reputation.
Girls like Zhan Aiping, who were a bit tomboyish, were common in the neighbourhood, but girls who could sing and dance like Qin Lu were rare. That rarity had made her more cherished, like a little treasure that families wanted to reserve for their sons.
“Well, I guess you have unique taste.”
Gu Sheng kissed her forehead. “I have a good eye; I picked out the best wife for myself from the start.”
Zhan Aiping nudged his face playfully, “Actually, I’m the one who made the move. If you’d been left to your own devices, you’d still be single.”
“Well, then… I guess I was just lucky.”
Zhan Aiping took a deep breath. “As for our son’s situation, let’s keep an eye on it.”
Bright kids don’t always stay exceptional. She reminded herself to stay level-headed, not to expect too much or put undue pressure on him.
All parents have a bit of a filter for their kids, thinking they’re the smartest and most special. But in reality, true prodigies were rare, and most kids were just average.
Still, no matter how ordinary, a parent’s child would always be the most special in their eyes.
Not long after, Zhu Hui sent a batch of canned ham to Zhan Aiping as a gift. She wasn’t aware of Captain Luo’s remarriage, and even if she had been, it wouldn’t have mattered much to her—she’d found a new partner, also a doctor, who was a few years younger and happened to be the son of a deputy factory director. Though he didn’t have Captain Luo’s rank, Zhu Hui was quite pleased with her new fiancé.
“Pingping, forgive me, but I’m going to be his anaesthetist,” Zhu Hui joked.
Zhan Aiping: “…”
Zhan Aiping laughed. “Congratulations, congratulations! And keep the ham coming.”
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