Chapter Sixty-Six: Evidence

Qin Jingchen paused for a moment on the other end of the phone. He had been in a meeting earlier when he received the news that the child was injured; his first reaction was worry for Su Wan Ning, so he called to comfort her. But he hadn’t expected Su Wan Ning to misunderstand something.

“I’ve already contacted the doctor. Don’t worry, just keep an eye on Sui Sui.”

“Alright, thank you.”

Only at that moment did Su Wan Ning feel her frantic heart finally settle.

“No need for thanks. Nian Nian is my daughter too.”

After exchanging a few more words, they hung up. Nian Nian was taken to the hospital for a thorough examination. Fortunately, because children’s bodies are supple and the sandy ground provided some cushioning, she hadn’t sustained any serious injuries—just a few scrapes and a fright.

Su Wan Ning soothed her daughter’s emotions while fetching medicine, bustling about for half the day. It was only when she finally stopped to rest that she noticed Sui Sui sitting silently beside her, his expression troubled.

“Sui Sui, what’s wrong?” Su Wan Ning thought her son had been scared, and went over to sit next to him, gently asking.

Unexpectedly, Sui Sui shook his head, hopped off the chair, and walked to the bedside.

“Nian Nian.”

Nian Nian was still asleep and did not respond.

“I’m sorry.”

He apologized quietly, then turned and left.

Su Wan Ning realized what had happened and hurried after him, finding Sui Sui sitting alone on the corridor bench. The little boy seemed shrouded in a shadow, his head bowed, looking even more desolate than when she had first met him.

She sat down beside him, placing a comforting hand on his small shoulder.

“Sui Sui, this isn’t your fault.”

The boy still kept his head down, his voice trembling with the threat of tears. “It’s all my fault. I didn’t grab my sister in time, and I didn’t rescue her fast enough…”

Perhaps Su Wan Ning could never truly understand the depth of the bond between two children raised under the control of a mentally ill mother, but in that moment, she saw something called responsibility in this small boy.

With gentle patience, Su Wan Ning repeated, “This isn’t your fault. I was the one who pushed you two down, and I didn’t control the tire properly. I am the parent responsible for your safety. All you need to do is take care of yourself.”

Sui Sui looked up sharply, tears glistening in his eyes. “Really?”

He was the older brother, and had heard countless times that he must care for his sister. He had always steadfastly acted as her protector. Never before had anyone told him he had no responsibility to care for anyone, only for himself.

“Yes,” Su Wan Ning affirmed, nodding seriously.

The boy said nothing more, only silently leaned into her embrace.

That afternoon, when the show resumed broadcasting, Su Wan Ning’s livestream was flooded with accusations—people blaming her for failing to care for her children. She did not defend herself.

She calmly stated the facts: “Today, Sui Sui cried.”

“He blamed himself for not protecting his sister. But I told him, it’s not his responsibility to look after her. The person responsible for her is me.”

[So what? Is this some kind of sympathy plea?]

[Isn’t it natural for the brother to look after the sister?]

[Can you people actually understand what you’re hearing? Whoever is responsible should take responsibility; it’s her daughter, not yours to criticize.]

“I’ve accepted the consequences I should bear, but the only ones who can blame me are Nian Nian and her father. I don’t believe anyone else has that right.”

After calmly finishing her statement, Su Wan Ning didn’t mention the matter again, and the online debate was swiftly scrubbed clean that afternoon.

She didn’t ask Yin Shan Shan or Yang Yang for details about what happened. But that evening, as the four families cooked dinner together, she deliberately made a dish of taro braised chicken.

Farm-raised village chicken was chopped into pieces and stewed for forty minutes; the rich sauce coated the meat, which was served with taro in a bowl, its aroma stirring appetites.

At the dinner table, Yin Shan Shan seemed in good spirits, smiling frequently.

“Shan Shan, I never asked—what did Yang Yang do with you during the role swap last time? You two didn’t join the rest of us, so mysterious,” Feng Rui asked proactively.

Yin Shan Shan’s expression tightened, as if reluctant to discuss it.

“Nothing much, we just went out to play.”

Feng Rui, sensing her discomfort, didn’t press further, but Su Wan Ning picked up the thread.

“How novel. Yang Yang is such a diligent student, I thought he’d have you solving practice questions all day.”

Su Wan Ning joked, but Yin Shan Shan said nothing, merely picked up a piece of taro and gently placed it in her son’s bowl. “Eat more.”

Yang Yang poked at the taro in his bowl, remaining silent.

“Shan Shan, how could you give Yang Yang taro? He hates taro, didn’t you know?” Su Wan Ning exaggerated her tone on purpose, drawing attention from those nearby and making sure the livestream audience heard clearly.

“I…” Yin Shan Shan looked embarrassed, and Yang Yang’s expression became equally awkward.

[I remember last time Su Wan Ning made milk tea, Yang Yang said he hated taro paste and taro!]

[That taro paste is different from this taro in the dish, though, right?]

“It’s fine, Mom. Kids shouldn’t be picky eaters,” the young Yang Yang, noticing his mother’s discomfort, tried to act mature, frowning as he ate the taro. Unbeknownst to him, this only confirmed his dislike for the food.

Yin Shan Shan, as his mother, was unaware.

Coupled with Yang Yang’s previous collapse from exhaustion and what happened during the role swap, many viewers in the livestream began to question.

[I’m starting to think Yin Shan Shan doesn’t care about her child’s health at all, just his studies.]

“Everyone’s nearly finished eating, so let me announce something,” Wang Zan appeared on cue, breaking the awkward atmosphere.

“There’s an elderly couple in the village, both eighty years old. When they were young, they overcame countless obstacles to be together—Grandpa waited eight years for Grandma, but never managed to give her a proper wedding. This time, the production team has decided to organize a grand wedding for them, and the task falls to our four families.”

The director handed out task cards to the four of them.

“Each card lists the items you need to prepare. We’ll give you time, then all work together to host the wedding for this elderly couple!”

Everyone opened their task cards. Su Wan Ning’s listed a large refrigerator and a color TV.

“A festive bedding set, red dates, peanuts, longan, lotus seeds…” Feng Rui read hers aloud.

Su Wan Ning frowned; only after everyone had finished did she realize her own tasks were much harder—refrigerator and TV required not only difficult procurement but also had no budget allocated.