Reborn as the Villain's Wife, I Shine in 80s
Chapter 90 - 088 The young man in memory

Chapter 90: 088 The young man in memory

Zhao Chun was utterly speechless. The more he thought about it, the more terrified he felt. What was with the extra person—could you even call that human? Plus, was the protagonist in the second story an idiot? The thief was right there in the unlit living room, for heaven’s sake! Why wouldn’t you just escape? Are you waiting to be tied up by the thief?!!!

Lowering his head, Zhao Chun sighed helplessly as he looked at Meng Shuyan’s adorable, snow-angel face. Kids really are just kids—they can still laugh at times like these. What should he do? He found himself wishing he could go back to being a child too.

Suddenly, a breeze from outside swept in through the window, making the shadows on the wall flicker. "Knock, knock." The abrupt sound of knocking reverberated, startlingly clear in the quiet atmosphere. Zhao Chun shuddered and let out a shocked yell.

"Hey guys, it’s so hot tonight, I whipped up some chilled drinks. Want some?" Tian Sangsang stood smiling at the doorway.

Zhao Chun trembled uncontrollably, staring at Tian Sangsang’s teeth faintly glinting white in the dark. As his mind wandered back to thoughts of the thief, he suddenly...

"Mom, what kind of drinks are they?" Meng Shuyan asked calmly.

"Orange juice, cold boiled water, honey water, chrysanthemum tea, jasmine tea—which one do you want?" Tian Sangsang had a juicer at home, and she’d purchased some oranges from a supermarket and turned them into juice. She had learned not to serve anything too fancy; Zhao Chun was a city guy, and if he got suspicious, it’d be trouble. You couldn’t very well tell someone that the watermelon juice came from grinding the watermelon at the mill, right? But orange juice was easier to explain; if asked, she could simply say it was hand-squeezed.

But...what was up with Zhao Chun?

"Mom, I want orange juice. Get a glass for Chun Zisu too," Meng Shuyan said from Zhao Chun’s arms. "Chun Zisu could use something to calm down."

"What’s up with your Chun Zisu? Why does he look like..." She gestured with an exaggerated "eating-a-whale" and dumbfounded expression.

"Oh Mom, it’s nothing. I just shared the story you told me with Chun Zisu, and somehow he ended up like this," Meng Shuyan scratched the back of his head innocently.

Sweat slid down Tian Sangsang’s forehead. Oh dear son, what were you doing telling stories like that in the middle of the night? Did you think Chun Zisu, who’s as soft-hearted as tofu, would handle it as well as you do?

She’d told those stories to Meng Shuyan on a whim, and the kid hadn’t been scared in the slightest—he’d only gotten more animated. Perhaps it was because he didn’t quite understand them.

But Zhao Chun wasn’t the same; he might look like an adult outwardly, but emotionally, he was still a child.

Tian Sangsang brought in two bowls of orange juice. The bright orange color looked refreshing—if chilled in the fridge, it would be even more effective against the heat.

The still-stunned Zhao Chun gulped down the orange juice in one go. The icy sensation drove away his earlier fear, leaving only the sweet tang of fresh oranges in his mouth. It tasted more genuine than any soda—who knew a countryside yard could offer such a treat.

"Thanks." Zhao Chun steadied himself a little, licking his somewhat dry lips, before asking, "Could your son sleep in my room tonight?"

Tian Sangsang froze for a second, then walked Meng Shuyan to the door, set him down, and asked, "Yanyan, what do you think?"

"I want to sleep with Chun Zisu," Meng Shuyan replied, his little eyes gleaming with enthusiasm.

Sitting on the bed with his ears perked up, Zhao Chun listened in, his refined face glowing with amusement.

Feigning a serious look, Tian Sangsang pouted dramatically, "Son, you don’t want Mommy anymore? Are you heartlessly abandoning me for Chun Zisu, this outsider...? Oh, woe is me... left to sleep alone on this cold bed so soon..."

"Mommy, I’m sorry, don’t cry!" Thinking Tian Sangsang was genuinely wiping away tears, Meng Shuyan’s eyes instantly shimmered with guilt. What now? He wanted to sleep with Mommy, but he also wanted to sleep with Chun Zisu. He’d never slept with a man before; he was curious.

Tian Sangsang crouched down, pinching his cheeks, and gently said, "Go ahead, sweetheart, Mommy was just teasing. But you have to promise not to press against Chun Zisu’s injured foot."

"Mommy, I don’t take jokes very well." Meng Shuyan scrunched his little eyebrows. His Mommy was so naughty—always teasing people. He leaned in to give her a loud smooch on the cheek, declaring, "From now on, I’ll always sleep with Mommy."

"Alrighty!"

Zhao Chun had assumed she was going to fight to keep her son, but unexpectedly, she just reminded her son not to put pressure on his injured foot. What a kind-hearted person she turned out to be.

With the lights off, lying in bed, Meng Shuyan rubbed his full little belly. The orange juice he’d just guzzled down left him completely wide awake.

"Chun Zisu, should I tell you another story?" Other than Tian Sangsang, Meng Shuyan’s usual playmate was just the village mutt. Zhao Chun was his first close male elder, so naturally, his chatter increased.

Zhao Chun turned his head to meet the gleaming eyes staring at him, a chill running down his spine.

"My, my, little Shuyan here sure knows how to tell stories, huh? You’ve really hit your stride," Zhao Chun chuckled nervously. "But too much storytelling makes your mouth dry. So now, let Uncle tell you a story—one from my own life."

Meng Shuyan propped his head up with his hands, evidently intrigued by Zhao Chun’s tale.

"Ahem. When I was a kid, I was like a delicate little sprout in the big city compound, just like you—fresh and full of life. Once, my grandpa took me to Beijing to visit an old friend, Grandpa Jiang. Grandpa Jiang’s family had an older boy, five years my senior. He was like a flower, ridiculously handsome, but so cold and unapproachable. When he saw me, he’d barely nod, not say a word. I wanted to grab his attention, so when he was sitting on the couch, I yelled, ’I’m sitting here—you get up!’ I figured, as the guest, he’d give way to me. But oh, how naïve I was...." Zhao Chun pounded his chest theatrically.

"What did the older boy say, Chun Zisu?" Meng Shuyan asked, curious.

"He said five words: ’Talk again and I’ll hit you.’"

"Whoa! That older boy was so...so..." Struggling to find the right word, Meng Shuyan finally gave up, but his heart swelled with admiration. How cool! "Say one more word and I’ll hit you."

"Then, I didn’t back down. I rammed my head against him, but he casually blocked me with one hand while reading a book. The more I pushed, the harder his hand seemed to resist. I crouched down, kicked my little legs, and kept driving forward with my head, charging and charging..."

"And then? Then what?" Meng Shuyan was now thoroughly engrossed.

"Then that merciless older boy finally ran out of patience... and really gave me a beating." Back then, he’d been grabbed by his shirt, hurled to the floor, and kicked in the rear, rolling like a ball across the room. It was his first time rolling so...gracefully.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that after that beating, Zhao Chun became completely obedient in front of Jiang Jinghuai, and had stayed that way for over a decade. That was the true meaning of "learning your lesson the hard way." Take Tian Sangsang, for example—she’d only had to deal him one thrashing before he learned not to push his luck around her.

Zhao Chun grew increasingly nostalgic and emotional as he recounted, "Ah, the tragic fate of being overshadowed—like Yu meeting Liang. Your Uncle here has spent a lifetime losing out to him. I thought I’d never see him again after that. But wouldn’t you know, he got reassigned to our region as an officer! My grandpa won’t stop comparing me to him. ’In just a few short years, he’s climbed to the rank of Captain, while you haven’t even graduated college yet.’ Why couldn’t he stay in Beijing? Why out of all places did he come here...?"