Chapter 7: Becoming a Son-in-Law by the Back Door

Qian Yuemei, known as Aunt Su Er, sat cross-legged on her mother’s炕 (kang), cracking sunflower seeds with the casual ease of someone who had all the time in the world.

She cracked, she complained—loudly and unapologetically.

“Here I am, middle-aged, and suddenly I’ve got another little bundle of trouble. No one’s embarrassed by it—no, they’re throwing a party! The whole family’s doting on this newborn like it’s the crown prince or something…”

Back when *she* gave birth, had anyone treated her like royalty? Who brought her white flour? Who handed over red sugar and eggs like gifts from heaven?

Why was her mother-in-law so damn special?

Of course, Qian Yuemei wasn’t here to borrow red sugar from her parents’ house.

She wasn’t that stupid—wouldn’t use her own kin’s kindness to feed her husband’s family. Especially since, even if she did ask, they’d never let her drink it.

Her mother, Wang Shi, stitched away at a torn sleeve, glancing up at her daughter through half-lidded eyes.

“Enough already,” she muttered. “Your mother-in-law’s family is practically dancing in the streets. If they hear you talking like that, you’ll be getting your head chewed off. That woman? She’s not some soft noodle.”

“I’m not an idiot,” Qian Yuemei said, waving a hand dismissively. “I wouldn’t say anything like that in front of them.”

Then she lowered her hand to gently rub her slightly rounded belly.

“Ma… do you think this baby’s definitely a girl?” Her voice trembled with hope.

If it was a girl, then *everyone* would have to treat her like gold. The whole family would revolve around her—just like they were doing now.

Wang Shi paused her sewing, peered at her daughter’s stomach, then nodded slowly.

“When I carried you girls, I was obsessed with spicy food—always craving chili. They say ‘sour son, spicy daughter,’ right? So chances are… you’re having a girl.”

Qian Yuemei opened her mouth—then closed it again.

Truth was, she didn’t want spicy food. She wanted sour. Like pickled plums. But if sour meant a boy… well, that was a risk she wasn’t ready to take.

Wang Shi sighed, shaking her head.

“If only you could trade places with your older sister. She’s had three girls in a row—her mother-in-law never stopped nagging her, calling her every name under the sun.”

“Ma, don’t bring her up,” Qian Yuemei shot back, sharp as a knife. “You can’t have boys either. You spent your whole life being scolded by my grandmother. Honestly, your daughter’s just like you.”

She hit her mother right in the heart.

Wang Shi froze. Her face tightened. The truth stung—her failure to bear sons was a wound that never healed.

She glared at her daughter. “Why didn’t you turn out like me? Why not give me a few daughters to show off?”

“Because I *don’t* want to be like you,” Qian Yuemei smirked. “That’s why I fought tooth and nail to marry into the Su family.”

She leaned forward, chin high, triumphant.

“Out there, if you have a girl, your mother-in-law yells at you. But here? A girl gets the whole family wrapped around her finger.”

She lifted her chin, daring her mother to argue.

Wang Shi blinked. Then, silently, she had to admit—her daughter had a point.

“So stop complaining about how poor the Su family is.”

The words came out sharp, impatient.

Qian Yuemei’s smug grin wilted.

She loved the Su family—everything about them. Except one thing: their poverty.

But she wasn’t about to admit she’d been wrong, not in front of her mother.

So she raised her voice, standing tall, righteous as a preacher.

“If I hadn’t married into the Su family, would we even *dare* walk through the village without people sneering at us?”

“Who dares mock us now? Who dares push us around?”

“And what about my cousins? Still eyeing our house like it’s free real estate?”

She finished in a breathless triumph, already picturing herself as the savior of the entire Qian clan.

Back then, the Qians had been called *juehu*—“extinct line”—because they had no sons. They were laughed at in the village, humiliated in the clan. Especially those close relatives, always scheming to steal their two mu of land and their house.

But after Qian Yuemei married Su Erhu, Su Erhu and his younger brother Su Sanhu took axes and went door-to-door, making it clear: *No one messes with the Qians anymore.*

And that’s why Qian Yuemei felt she’d earned her place in her family—she’d saved them all.

Hearing her daughter’s boast, Wang Shi suddenly regretted something.

“If only I’d arranged for you to live in as a son-in-law,” she murmured. “I thought even the poorest family would never let their son go and become a *shuizhao men*—a son-in-law living in the wife’s home.”

“But then… Su’s fourth son actually did it.”

She sighed, heavy with sorrow.

“Ma, what are you thinking?” Qian Yuemei scoffed. “Can our family compare to Li the Shopkeeper’s in town? He’s got silver, he’s got stores. He could afford to take Su’s fourth son in. What do *we* have?”

Another stab to her mother’s heart.

Wang Shi pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady her breathing.

Qian Yuemei didn’t care. She popped another seed into her mouth, cracked it with a satisfying snap, and kept going.

“And besides—my father-in-law still refuses to acknowledge Su’s fourth son. He said he’d rather pretend he never existed.”

Wang Shi stared.

“You mean… he still won’t accept him? Even after the baby’s born? Not recognizing a grandson?”

“Ma, are you serious?” Qian Yuemei looked at her mother like she’d lost her mind. “Is that *their* grandson? No—it’s Li the Shopkeeper’s kid. *Li*. Not Su.”

Wang Shi fell silent.

How had she given birth to such a firebrand?

She took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly.

Suddenly, she was glad she’d sent her daughter to the Su family.

Yes, the Su household was poor. But honest. Upright. No schemers, no troublemakers. Just good people.

Except for her daughter—she had the potential to be the biggest headache of them all.

And the Su family? Never mistreated their daughters-in-law. Otherwise, how could *this* woman survive under any mother-in-law’s roof?

“Still,” Qian Yuemei added, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “he’s come back a few times—quietly. I saw him slip some silver to my mother-in-law. And she refused it—like she’s some kind of saint!”

She wrinkled her nose, disgusted.

But her hands kept cracking seeds. The shells flew like confetti.

Wang Shi rubbed her temples.

“That’s not pride—that’s dignity,” she said. “She won’t sell her son.”

“Dignity doesn’t fill your belly,” Qian Yuemei snapped. “We’re starving, and she’s playing wolf in sheep’s clothing? If she’s so proud, why did she let me come begging for red sugar?”

Wang Shi had no reply.

“Fine,” she finally said, waving her hand. “Now that your mother-in-law has a daughter, things will get better for the Su family.”

She tried to shoo her daughter away—anything to avoid hearing more.

“Ma, you really believe that? A baby girl? That’s supposed to change everything?”

Before she could finish, the youngest daughter—Qian Si Cao—burst through the door, screaming.

“Big trouble, Second Sister! It’s serious!”