Chapter 6 Who Could Possibly Resist This?

Grandma Su couldn’t hide the pride blooming across her face when her daughter-in-law praised her little granddaughter.

“Mom,” said Su Da-Sister, “has the little one been named yet?”

“Your father gave her a name. Her nickname’s Tangbao—sweetie. Her full name is Su Tang.”

“Tangbao? That’s such a sweet name—just like a little sugar doll…”

Su Da-Sister reached out and gently tapped the baby’s round cheek.

Tangbao blinked her big eyes, staring at the young woman with wide, curious innocence. The warmth in the woman’s gaze made her instinctively press her lips together.

She’d always been Tangbao.

“Oh! Mom, is the little one hungry?” Su Da-Sister suddenly gasped.

Then she snapped her fingers. “Wait—Mom, you haven’t got milk yet, have you?”

Grandma Su set down her bowl and ran a hand over her chest. Nothing. No swelling. No sign of milk.

She’d given birth to so many children—she knew exactly what this meant.

Su Da-Sister, too, had been a mother. One look at Grandma Su’s expression told her everything.

And honestly, even if milk *had* come, Grandma Su was far too old. Even then, there wouldn’t be enough for the baby.

Tangbao hadn’t really felt hungry before—but now that Su Da-Sister mentioned it, her tummy growled instantly.

Still, she knew better than to cry. She just puckered her lips, her eyes welling up with tiny, shimmering tears.

The picture was devastating: a porcelain doll of a child, chin trembling, refusing to sob, silently screaming *I’m hungry*.

Grandma Su and Su Da-Sister both felt their hearts crack right in two.

Who could stand it?

A delicate little girl, so perfect, so fragile, holding back tears like a tiny warrior.

Su Da-Sister clutched her chest and cried out, “Oh no! I can’t take it! I’m going to get milk for the little one! Old Wang’s wife still has babies nursing—no shame in asking!”

For the sake of her niece, who cared about a little embarrassment?

Without another word, Su Da-Sister bolted toward the door.

Grandma Su couldn’t eat a bite more. She bent down and lifted Tangbao into her arms.

“Sweetheart… soon, you’ll have your food… soon…”

She whispered, nearly choking on her own tears.

She knew her age. Knew her body was weak. She’d never be able to nurse properly.

If it were a boy, she could mix in some rice gruel—manageable. But a girl?

How could she bear it?

It would break her heart.

Just as she was drowning in sorrow, a sudden commotion erupted outside.

Half the village poured toward the Su household.

There was no way around it—under the leadership of Old Man Su, the family looked like a parade of miracles.

Old Man Su marched ahead, chest puffed out, stride proud, cradling a massive wooden barrel filled halfway with wriggling fish. They leapt high into the air, splashing back down—dancing, flipping, showing off like they were auditioning for a circus.

Behind him, Su Erhu followed, carrying his own barrel. The fish inside did the same routine—jumping, flipping, performing for the crowd.

But the real spectacle? Su Erhu’s head, crowned with a giant carp, while his son, Su Er Pan, sat astride the fish’s neck like a rider on a dragon.

Er Pan wrapped his tiny legs tightly around his dad’s neck, arms locked around the fish’s gills, clinging for dear life.

Then came Su Liuhu—more modest, but no less impressive. He carried a large catfish slung over his shoulder.

Whether from exhaustion or excitement, his cheeks burned red, and his legs wobbled slightly as he walked.

Even Su Da Pan had a fish—about a pound heavy—clutched tight against his chest.

Never before had the village of Da Liushu seen anything like it.

They barely caught fish longer than a palm in the river. And here, the entire Su family had brought home a haul that defied belief.

The scene sent shockwaves through the village. People erupted into cheers, laughter, disbelief.

*Thwack!* One fish slipped, flopping onto the ground.

“Look—it jumped again!” someone yelled.

“Quick! Grab it!”

“Got it!”

Dozens of hands bent low, scrambling, grabbing, laughing as they tossed the fish back into Old Man Su’s barrel.

No one kept one. Not because they didn’t want to—but because these weren’t small fry. These were monsters. Who’d dare steal something so grand?

“Old Su, you’re really gonna make it big now!” chuckled an old man with a clay pipe, grinning.

“Nah, nah, just lucky today.”

Old Man Su humbly waved it off—but his grin stretched ear to ear.

“Lucky? This isn’t luck—it’s *abundance*. Fish mean ‘surplus every year.’ You’re not just getting fish—you’re getting surplus *grain* every single year!”

“Haha! Borrowing your good fortune, brother!” Old Man Su laughed heartily.

Everyone loved hearing blessings. And he soaked it in, glowing like a man ten years younger.

“Er Pan, give me the fish, huh?” someone teased.

Er Pan shook his head fiercely. “No! For Tangbao!”

His voice, soft and clear, carried the whole message of the Su family.

“Good grief—look at that tiny thing! Already knows to share the best with the little cousin?”

“She’s gonna be treated like a queen around here.”

“You bet. Old Su’s been waiting for a daughter all these years—can’t wait to spoil her rotten.”

“And why shouldn’t they? Look what she brought—the whole river’s emptied for her!”

“Maybe she’s a little blessing in disguise… a mini fortune-teller.”

“….”

The villagers chattered, linking Tangbao’s arrival directly to the miraculous catch.

And deep down, each one wondered: *Why not my daughter? Why not mine?*

So, under the flicker of jumping fish and the roar of the crowd, Tangbao’s starlight aura solidified—real, undeniable, earned by the very act of being born.

Old Man Su walked on, soaking in the admiration, the awe, the envy.

For years, his sons had been born one after another, but misfortune followed like a shadow. Everywhere they went, people looked at them with pity.

Now? Now they stood tall.

Finally—finally—they were the ones everyone envied.

The Su family wasn’t just surviving anymore.

They were rising.