Chapter 380: Family Matters

“How big can her brother be? He’s only a year old. What’s the problem?” Lin Ziqi asked, her curiosity piqued. “Is he missing his little willy? Is he mentally deficient? Or has he already learned to lift his sister’s skirt?”

“What nonsense,” Lin Fatian grumbled. “I’m not saying another word.”

“I was wrong. Dad, please tell me. Leaving a story half-told is a death sentence for the curious.”

“Last time we were drinking, he started complaining after a few too many. There’s been some trouble at home.” Lin Fatian hesitated, then drained his beer in one go. “His wife… his personal secretary, she’s been very restless.”

Zhang Yunmi’s father had been a man of little success in their old world. He had tried his hand at many things, mastering none. His wife had left him when Zhang Yunmi was young. Before the transmigration, he was a network administrator for a small company.

It was a profession that held little value here. He had always been “basic labor.” Even now, years later, when many of his peers had risen to positions of power, he was merely a mid-level cadre in the Planning Commission: director of the data department, managing the computer database and the vast new card index system.

“…You know what Uncle Zhang is like. He’s not ambitious. He thinks his current life is good enough. The General Office sees to his needs, Zhang Yunmi is grown, and his personal secretary has given him two children, including a son. His life is prosperous.”

“Isn’t that wonderful? How is she restless? Does she refuse to sleep with him? Or did she cheat on him?”

“Where did you learn all this nonsense?” Lin Fatian said, exasperated.

“Please, your daughter is seventeen, not seven.”

Lin Fatian looked at his daughter. She was, by any measure, a woman. But in his mind, she was still the child who had clutched his hand on the deck of the ship.

He sighed, his heart a tangle of emotions as he glanced at Meng Lan in the kitchen. He took another large gulp of beer.

“It was fine at first. But after she gave birth to a daughter, she changed. How should I put it,” he paused, searching for the right word, “…she became… dramatic.”

“‘Dramatic’? How so?” Lin Ziqi’s mind filled with the melodramatic plots of romance novels.

“Old Zhang didn’t go into detail. But she’s awful to his daughter…”

“What? She dares to abuse Zhang Yunmi? Is she looking for death!” Lin Ziqi’s eyes widened. The image of Aunt Xue from “Romance in the Rain” flashed in her mind.

“It’s not that bad. But she’s cold, sarcastic. She neglects her housework. When Zhang Yunmi comes home, she doesn’t even cook. Old Zhang has to order takeout. He said it started when she had her daughter and got worse after the son was born. When he confronts her, she just says she has two children to care for, that the youngest has just been weaned. How can she manage?”

“Why not hire a part-time maid? The General Office has offered that service for ages.” Lin Ziqi thought of Zhang Yunmi’s behavior. She didn’t seem abused, just reluctant to go home.

“He did. But Old Zhang says his wife—his personal secretary—has a strange attitude. Every time Zhang Yunmi comes back, she has a long face. If he shows any concern for Yunmi, all hell breaks loose. She’ll find some small reason to beat her own daughter, or threaten to kill herself… It’s making his life a misery.”

“She’s that bold?” Lin Ziqi was baffled. She had always believed the personal secretaries were utterly loyal, their gratitude to the Senators “higher than the mountains, deeper than the sea.” From her interactions with Meng Lan and others, she knew they were acutely aware of the hierarchy, seeing themselves as “servants.”

It was hard to imagine a “servant” treating her master this way. Without the Senator, she was nothing. “Uncle Zhang is a Senator, and she’s just a concubine… a personal secretary. Isn’t she afraid he’ll fire her? The College of Arts and Sciences is full of prospective secretaries waiting for an assignment.”

“Fire her? What about the children? One is three, the other is one. Without a mother, even with a part-time maid, they can’t be properly cared for,” Lin Fatian said with a bitter smile. “What can he do but endure it?”

“That’s true.” Lin Ziqi began to understand. A personal secretary who had borne a child was no longer just a secretary; she was the mother of a Senator’s child, and the child was her greatest asset. “Using the child as a shield,” she said angrily, “that’s shameless!”

“Who says it isn’t.”

“But what does she hope to achieve by being so dramatic?” Lin Ziqi wondered. To reject a good life in favor of domestic strife—there had to be a motive.

“From what Old Zhang said, it seems she wants Yunmi to marry early.”

“What’s that about?” Lin Ziqi said nonchalantly. “It’s none of her business. Yunmi is hardly ever home, so she’s not in her way. Besides, she’ll be eighteen soon, and the General Office will assign her a house. She’ll move out on her own.”

“What do you know,” Lin Fatian said, still frowning on his friend’s behalf. “This woman’s plan is that after Yunmi is married, no one will compete with her son for the family property!”

Lin Ziqi’s face flushed with anger. “How shameless! What right does she have to the family property? A personal secretary is a live-in mistress at best. She has a son and she’s already scheming for the inheritance—Uncle Zhang must be blind!”

“Why else do you think he regrets it? When we were drinking, he said if he had known, he would have done without a personal secretary. It would have been so much better to live quietly with his daughter. He could have just hired a part-time maid.”

“You men always say that,” Lin Ziqi sneered. “He’s younger than you, Dad. I don’t believe he could live without a woman. I heard Uncle Zhang was a key figure in the maid revolution, that he was ready to smash Ma Dudu with a brick.”

Lin Fatian was at a loss for words. He frowned and drank another half-glass of beer. “Old Zhang is having a hard time. You should lay off the sarcasm.”

“He can’t hear me. Besides, I’m not wrong,” Lin Ziqi retorted. “Doesn’t the General Office handle this sort of thing? Aren’t they responsible for all the personal secretaries?”

“How can they? This is a family matter!” Lin Fatian emphasized the words. “Even an honest official can’t settle family disputes. What could the General Office do? She hasn’t done anything wrong. At most, they could kick her out—but Old Zhang wouldn’t agree to that. It’s not ideal, but they are a family. Once it goes to the yamen, it becomes an official matter. He can’t bear to have his children be without a mother.”

“In the end, it’s because Uncle Zhang is too soft,” Lin Ziqi said with disdain. “If he were tougher, would that woman dare to be so arrogant? It’s outrageous. Yunmi is a Senator! If Meng Lan were ever like that, I’d whip her into submission first!”

A sharp clatter came from the kitchen. “What’s wrong?!” Lin Ziqi called out impatiently.

“Nothing… my hand slipped.”

“If you were more careful, it wouldn’t have happened!” Lin Ziqi sneered.

“I know, miss,” Meng Lan answered, her voice trembling.

“Don’t get carried away,” Lin Fatian said, displeased. “Why are you taking it out on Meng Lan?”

Lin Ziqi’s face twisted. Her eyes welled with tears. She covered her face and sobbed, “I don’t even have a little brother yet, and you already dislike me.”

Lin Fatian was flustered. “Xiao Qi, don’t cry! Daddy doesn’t want a son! You will always be my good daughter.”

Lin Ziqi suddenly dropped her hand and made a face. “I was just kidding! Don’t worry, Dad. Even if that day comes, I won’t make things difficult for you.”

“Don’t say that,” Lin Fatian’s expression was conflicted. “I don’t want you to be wronged.”

“Wronged? I won’t be,” Lin Ziqi said lightly. “I know how to handle it. I will never let you end up like Uncle Zhang.” She sneered again. “Meng Lan,” she called out, “serve the chicken soup.”

That evening, Meng Lan served them with an extra measure of caution. She didn’t even dare to sit in Lin Ziqi’s presence, which made Lin Fatian shake his head. He was, after all, a modern man raised under the red flag, with a “simple affection for the working people.” He couldn’t stand this kind of “arrogant” behavior. Compared to his daughter, who had grown up on a diet of palace intrigue dramas and romance novels, he was ill-suited for this world of “clear hierarchies.”

But family relationships were a power struggle. It was either the east wind prevailing over the west, or the west over the east. Otherwise, the family could not endure. He was helpless.

Lin Ziqi read for a while, then yawned and went to change. The environment here was beautiful, the air fresh, but there was no internet, no entertainment center. The diversions were few. She was already tired, and with a “hike” planned for the next day, she went to bed early.

She rose early the next day. Lin Fatian was still asleep, but Meng Lan was already up, and a hot breakfast was on the table. After Lin Ziqi had eaten, Meng Lan handed her a canvas bag.

“Everything is packed,” she said respectfully.

Lin Ziqi had told her what to bring the night before. She took the bag. “I won’t be back for lunch. You can leave me dinner—you don’t have to wait for me.”

“Yes, miss.”

“Dad is also off today, so you two can have a good time together,” Lin Ziqi said with a sudden smile, slipping on her rattan sandals.

Meng Lan blushed and said nothing.

Lin Ziqi left the farm. At the designated exit, the Dongfeng carriage sent by the General Office was waiting. The trip to Lingao Cape Park was not entirely within a green zone, and as a “minor Senator,” she required a security escort. Last night, Meng Lan had reported her itinerary to the General Office’s service point at the entrance of the dormitory area.

“Good morning, miss,” the guard company soldier standing by the carriage step saluted. His handsome face and dashing posture made Lin Ziqi look at him a second time.

“Good morning.” She lifted her skirt and stepped onto the footboard.

The soldier helped her by the arm at just the right moment.

“Please be careful,” he reminded her politely.

“Thank you,” Lin Ziqi smiled sweetly. She liked this little bit of flattery.

The Dongfeng carriage was clean and comfortable. The General Office’s service department had cleaned and redecorated it the night before. The cushions and curtains had been changed, the flowers in the vase were fresh. A faint floral scent filled the air. In the cabinet were fresh glass bottles of mineral water, and in the ice bucket, chilled kvass and soda.

The carriage began to move, the clatter of hooves on the flat road a steady rhythm. Lin Ziqi looked out the window. The weather was perfect. It had rained a few days ago, leaving the air fresh, not too cold, not too hot. A good day for an outing.

Thank you for bringing me here, Dad, she thought.

There were no Mercedes-Benz, BMW, or Rolls-Royce in this world, but the people who rode in this carriage were more noble and powerful than those who could afford such luxuries in her old life.

Though she loved palace intrigue dramas and was obsessed with princess and Cinderella stories, she knew that in her original world, her future would have been to marry a man of similar background, to scrimp and save for a mortgage, to drive an “economy car” to and from work, and to worry about parking.

Now, she was a genuine “princess,” riding in a carriage, escorted by guards, served by a respectful personal secretary. What was the “fashionable life” of the magazines? Buying an island? One day, she might have Tahiti all to herself. Queen of Tahiti? Too common. Queen consort? That would require a king. How about just “female ruler”? That didn’t sound right…

The carriage took her to the Feiyun Club at Lingao Cape Park. The Feiyun was moored at the pier, its sails unfurled. Though it had been in this world for nearly six years and had made several long voyages, it was still in excellent condition. The Qian family had clearly spared no effort in its maintenance.

On the beach, the coconut grove planted on D-Day had grown to a considerable size. Beneath it stood three stilt houses—the Feiyun Club. Lin Ziqi and her classmates had held many bonfire parties and barbecues here. They had even had parties with the children from the selection group. She had sung a few songs, earning her the fiery gazes of the boys from the senior primary school…

Behind the thatched houses, a new boat rack had been built, on which rested a beautiful small boat. It was no more than five or six meters long, with a very tall mast. Lacking proper paint, it retained its original wood color, which looked stunning against the blue sea and silver sand.

Qian Duoduo, in a sailor shirt, canvas shorts, and a hard-topped straw hat, was barefoot, squatting by the boat rack, painting something on the hull. Seeing Lin Ziqi, she put down her brush and ran over excitedly.

“Look, what do you think?” she said, waving her hand proudly, showing off her new toy.

“This boat is so beautiful,” Lin Ziqi said sincerely. Though she knew nothing of boats, its light, elegant hull, streamlined body, and straight mast created a sense of perfect proportion.

“It’s a pity we can’t make white paint, otherwise it would look like a white swan!” Qian Duoduo said with a dreamy expression. In Lin Ziqi’s opinion, the boat was beautiful enough as it was, its natural wood grain a work of art.

The boat had been designed and built by Qian Shuiting, based on the plans of a common American small boat. Such boats were sold as kits, with ready-made drawings and accessories, and could be assembled in one’s own yard or garage. They were usually placed on a trailer and ranged from 17 to 21 feet in length. The Qian brothers had collected numerous drawings and tool books in electronic form and had brought a set of specialized tools with them.

This boat was 17 feet (5.18 meters) long and 7 feet 4 inches (2.26 meters) wide. Though small, a well-built boat of this kind could not only sail along the coast but, with the right equipment, could even be used for ocean voyages.

“What kind of wood is this? The grain is so beautiful,” Lin Ziqi said, admiring it.

“The deck is teak,” Qian Duoduo said. “The hull is fir, and the keel is Philippine mahogany. There are so many good woods in the lumber mill, it was hard to choose.”

Lin Ziqi nodded repeatedly, though she couldn’t tell one wood from another. She was filled with admiration. No wonder Qian Duoduo’s father could be the speaker. He could hunt, shoot, and build boats. He also had a double master’s degree… Her own father was no match.

Comparison, she thought, truly is the thief of joy.

“How long did it take to build?” Lin Ziqi asked, carefully stroking the hull. “Did your father build it all by himself?”

“About a year. My father and I built it together. Uncle Zhou and Second Uncle helped when they came back to Lingao. It’s said to be over a year, but we only worked on it during the holidays. There’s no time usually.”

“You’re amazing,” Lin Ziqi said sincerely. “So amazing.”