They lived in the same family compound and worked in the same factory—how could they not know each other? Yet somehow, Lai Yanling remained an outsider to many, especially to that group who took pleasure in bullying her, a woman raising three children alone.
Luo Meixin's selfishness had long made her the subject of mockery. But now that her biological daughter had returned, she was determined to save face.
At that moment, Lai Yanling's heart brimmed with joy. She could finally hold her head high in front of her enemies. The sight of Song Zhiyao, who resembled Song Yuanzhou so closely, filled her with pride.
[She truly is the daughter of Yuanzhou and me! ] Lai Yanling thought, holding Song Zhiyao's hand more tightly.
[My daughter is so beautiful—she is my real daughter, no doubt about it. She graduated from college at eighteen, just as brilliant as her father!]
As they walked, Lai Yanling continued to murmur in her heart, her steps almost light with delight.
Behind her, Song Zhiyao followed with a faint smile tugging at her lips. She could hear everything her mother thought—and it confirmed what she'd already suspected.
She hadn't expected Lai Yanling to be so overjoyed by her return. She hadn't done anything special—just spoken the truth—yet her mother seemed elated beyond words.
As they neared the building, Lai Yanling's steps gradually slowed.
[Zhiyao, you shouldn't have come back to suffer like this…]
Hearing that thought, Song Zhiyao glanced at her and understood. Earlier, Luo Meixin had made a scathing remark: "The whole family squeezed into one room to sleep."
But Song Zhiyao had prepared herself mentally for the unfamiliar environment. This was her true home now. No matter how poor, it was where she belonged.
Lai Yanling assumed her silence was dissatisfaction, and just as she was about to apologize, Zhiyao cut her off coldly.
"Mom, why are you stopping?"
She knew exactly what her mother was about to say and didn't want to hear an apology. She hadn't chosen her birth, but her parents had given her intelligence, and for that she was grateful.
Leaving behind the wealth of the Luo family wasn't something she regretted. She was an adult now—her future was her own.
Lai Yanling was taken aback but swallowed her words. Those eyes that seemed to see through everything made her hesitate. "Let's go"
She remained silent the rest of the way, glancing at her daughter from time to time. Curiously, Zhiyao tried to hear what she was thinking—but there was nothing.
[Is she going through menopause?] Zhiyao wondered and felt that her mom had reached what is medically called menopause, and thinking about Lai Yanling's age, it seemed like this.
[That might explain the emotional swings…] She made a mental note to ask someone at the hospital for medicine if needed.
Lai Yanling would never have imagined her daughter thought she was menopausal just because of her shifting moods.
Once she realized her daughter didn't mind their living conditions, she grabbed her hand joyfully and led her forward.
"That building is our home—see the two rooms on the left side of the fourth floor?" Lai Yanling pointed ahead to the second-to-last building on this road.
She said it proudly, but guilt crept across her face, worried that Zhiyao might turn and leave at the sight.
The distance felt short, but it took several minutes. The dormitory buildings had been constructed densely to accommodate the large number of textile workers. Each floor had over a dozen rooms, and one floor could hold around ten families.
Their family occupied two rooms—each only 10 square meters. A public bathroom served the entire floor, and cooking had to be done on the balcony.
They could only afford those two rooms when Song Yuanzhou was still alive, thanks to their combined salaries.
In the eyes of others, this was considered luxurious. In a time when many families crammed over a dozen people into one or two rooms, even two small rooms were a blessing for five people.
The textile factory's housing was worse than the steel plant's—Song Zhiyao noticed it right away. The corridors were packed with people—some chatting, some arguing over whose turn it was to cook.
In the steel plant quarters, life is also almost the same, but the crowd is not like the textile one.
Still, she had no regrets. Her life at the Luo family had been different. As the daughter of the steel plant director, she'd lived in a courtyard house with separate rooms for each family member, a rare luxury for normal laborers.
Liao Shujuan, always keen to show off, planted flowers instead of vegetables in their yard. Everyone envied Zhiyao's private room—something they could only dream of in their whole life.
Now, she was in a very different world.
As mother and daughter reached their home, neighbors looked on curiously. Along the way, Lai Yanling had proudly introduced her.
"My daughter is back! Please take good care of her," she called cheerfully.
Zhiyao stood calmly by her side, offering polite smiles.
Most people greeted her warmly—much friendlier than those she'd met at the gate—though a few looked confused.
Their home was at the far end. Before leaving, Song Yuanzhou had installed a door between the two rooms, enclosing a small area where a stove and pots were kept. It was their private kitchen—a rare convenience.
They only need to share the shower and toilet, except these everything else is available in their two-room flat.
There is also a safety lock on their small room door. It is safe to lock the door at night.
Inside, the space was simple but tidy. One room had a bed and boys' clothes—clearly her younger brother's. There is also a dining area for eating.
Lai Yanling confirmed, "Your brother sleeps here now. He's 13 and needs his own space."
She gestured toward the bigger room. "That one is for us. If you're not comfortable, I can put another bed in your brother's room so you and your sister have more space."
"No need," Zhiyao replied. "The bed's large enough for three people. Besides, he's a boy—he should have his own room. It's not appropriate to share room with him."
She glanced at the room and knew it would be fine. If not, she could always apply for a hospital dorm later.
Lai Yanling felt another wave of guilt.
"It's all my fault," she whispered. "But if you ever feel uncomfortable, tell me—I'll find a way."
"Zhiyao, rest a bit. I'll cook now. Your sister and brother will be home soon."
As her mother started preparing dinner, Zhiyao quietly unpacked her belongings—just a few worn clothes for changing. She hadn't brought anything new.
"Mom! What's that delicious smell?" A clear voice rang out—it was her younger sister, Song Ruyun, bursting through the door, schoolbag in hand.
But the moment her eyes landed on Zhiyao, she froze.
She was beautiful—elegant—and the resemblance to their father was striking. Ruyun instantly recognized her.
Her expression turned sour as she huffed, "Hmph! Didn't you think our family was poor? Why'd you come back?"
But even as she spoke, her heart whispered something different:
[She's so beautiful… She really is my real sister. I like her so much more than that annoying Luo Meixin…]