Chapter Seventy-One: Starting Over

"Is your nephew really sick or just pretending? He knows you know, but our family has no idea," Grandma Liu retorted immediately, relishing the flicker of embarrassment on her in-law's face. Her heart felt a surge of satisfaction.

"Let’s talk about Jianmin and his wife for now. We’ll discuss everything else later," Jianmin’s father-in-law dared not bring up his eldest nephew again, hastily steering the conversation back to his daughter and son-in-law.

"What they choose to do is their own business. They’re both in their thirties—do we really need to fret over everything for them?" Grandpa Liu had seen straight through his in-laws. As for his daughter-in-law, he neither cared to accept nor reject her; after all, it was Jianmin who would spend a lifetime with her. At worst, they could just keep their visits to the Liu family to a minimum. With their daughter around and a pension to rely on, he and his wife would never go hungry. And if, by some remote chance, none of their children wished to support them, they could always move into a retirement home.

After talking in circles and getting nowhere with the Liu elders, Jianmin’s father-in-law and his wife had no choice but to leave, hoping to find someone else to persuade them.

Once the pair departed, the Liu elders got into the car Zhou Hao had driven over, skipping home entirely and heading straight for the military sanatorium.

They were in luck—the sanatorium was in its off-season, with plenty of vacant rooms. If military families wanted to stay for a few days, the staff rarely refused, and the fees were lower than elsewhere. Meals were simple; whatever the canteen provided was what you ate. If you fancied a treat, you could just catch a bus at the gate—three stops away was Tea Town at the foot of the mountain, with plenty of dining options.

Strictly speaking, neither Liu elder was technically a military family member, but Zhou Hao had made a special request, and the commander had approved their stay—on the condition that the sanatorium wasn’t needed for other official duties. If the need arose and there weren’t enough rooms, they would have to vacate without protest.

This was only reasonable; they were not unreasonable people. Besides, staying in the mountains was never meant to be a long-term arrangement. Grandpa Liu’s plan was to travel after Jianmin and his wife divorced, leaving for months, even half a year, before returning, so as not to get embroiled in the mess.

"They weren’t always like this, you know," Grandma Liu sighed, sitting under a ginkgo tree with Chen Xin, watching Zhang Zhang play ball. Not far off, by the fish pond, Grandpa Liu and two other elderly men from the sanatorium sat with simple fishing rods—the bait dug up themselves after lunch.

"People change, but Xiaoyi changed far too quickly," Grandma Liu mused, troubled by the drastic transformation. "She’s not the only one facing unemployment, is she? And the company hasn’t even confirmed her layoff yet. What’s she so anxious about?"

At first, Jianmin’s wife wanted to go into business because the company was restructuring and many were being laid off. Word had it she was on the second list. It was understandable that she’d be anxious to carve out a new path. But her subsequent changes became baffling.

Chen Xin had no answer. She knew little about Jianmin and his wife; their interactions had always been lukewarm, so she had no sense of what they were like—before or after.

"Divorce may be for the best," Grandma Liu sighed. What bothered her most was that her daughter-in-law had always refused to have children, claiming work was too busy, then that their finances weren’t good enough to give a child a proper life. Grandma Liu had offered to help with half the expenses, but her daughter-in-law still refused. Now her son was nearly thirty and the couple showed no intention of starting a family.

As Grandma Liu was lamenting, Liu Chunyan called with news: her brother and his wife had divorced and the papers were finalized.

"My brother didn’t ask for anything—he just kept the apartment allocated by his work unit. And I’ve dropped the case against her cousin, on condition they pay thirty percent of the financial damages. I figure she’ll need to use the money my brother gave her to plug that hole. When the compensation comes in, I’ll hold onto it so when my brother remarries and has a child, I can give it directly to them—just so he doesn’t get soft-hearted and let that woman trick him again."

Liu Chunyan was sharper and more forward-thinking than her brother.

"Don’t you want to come see your parents?"

"It’s better if I don’t, for now. I’ll use this time to settle up over here, then check out the place you mentioned. If it’s suitable, I’ll move and start over."

Chunyan was bold and unafraid of hardship; given a chance, she was sure to make it.

Chen Xin gave her Lei Bang’s contact details, advising her to talk things over with him first for advice. Lei Bang’s background was unusual, and he had a broader perspective—listening to his suggestions might help her avoid many pitfalls.

Chen Xin’s advice struck a chord with Liu Chunyan. Last time, she’d rushed into a new venture in the south and nearly lost everything. Fortunately, her ex-sister-in-law’s cousin was both greedy and reckless, so the crisis burst quickly, preventing the losses from being as great as her competitors had hoped.

Thanks to her decisive shutdown, the daily costs of utilities and wages didn’t spiral out of control. Liu Chunyan also fully cooperated with the local health inspection, earning their goodwill and buying herself some time to adjust.

Now her main worry was the loan she’d taken out at the time. If she relocated, she’d have to pay it off first. There were also severance payments for the staff—a significant expense.

Her trip to Zhangjia Village was to find out if she could get a loan. If so, she’d pay off her debts there, then move and mortgage her new assets to repay the loan and start anew.

Even if Chen Xin had the money, she wouldn’t hand it all over; she had to consider the investment needs in Zhangjia Village. Besides, her own cash flow wasn’t enough to fill Chunyan’s financial hole—she’d have to sell her house to help, and selling right now would mean a loss. With the current market, buying another desirable property would be almost impossible.

Chen Xin was still a student. Running the café was already a remarkable achievement in others’ eyes. If she wanted to quietly make money, buying property was the safest bet.