Chapter 12 Deng Qingrong

“Oh!” The curly-haired aunt pondered for a moment. “I hadn’t thought about it until you asked. Now that you mention it, I realize I haven’t seen her for at least half a month! Has anyone else seen her lately?” The other elderly women all shook their heads, indicating they hadn’t seen her either.

“Are you all close with her?” Ning Shuyi pressed further.

“Not really close,” the round-faced aunt replied, her expression mysterious. “We just chat casually when we bump into each other, but we don’t go out of our way to visit. Honestly, those two, mother and son, feel rather secretive! Take Old Deng, for example. When she’s out picking vegetables and meets us, she chats readily enough, seems quite cheerful. Yet, you always feel like there’s something between you, like she doesn’t really want people to understand her affairs!”

Across from her, the long-faced elderly lady laughed derisively. “Gu, I always say you’re too sensitive, overthink everything, and you never want to hear it! Tell me, what barrier does Old Deng really put up with us? I think she’s quite talkative. When we discuss our family matters, doesn’t she often mention her son too? She’s from out of town, just the two of them here, no relatives or friends locally. Of course, her stories revolve around herself and her son, not as rich in detail as ours, but that doesn’t mean she’s hiding things or scheming. Besides, you all get together and brag—one minute your son is so filial, bought you a massage chair worth over twenty thousand; next, your daughter and son-in-law are so considerate, sent you on a luxury cruise! Old Deng’s situation is obviously not as well-off; she doesn’t even have a pension, relies solely on her son to support her. How do you expect her to respond to all that? She must feel uncomfortable and just doesn’t want to chime in.”

“And this Old Deng is...?” Ning Shuyi asked.

“Old Deng is the elderly lady you were asking about!” The round-faced aunt answered Ning Shuyi’s question, then glared at the long-faced woman across from her. “Enough already! Always throwing mud at me!

How is this suddenly my fault? What’s wrong with talking about my own family? Is it shameful for my children to be so thoughtful that I have to hide it? Besides, Old Deng isn’t as destitute as you claim! Didn’t you notice how thick the bracelet she wears is? That big gold bangle—have you ever seen a woman from a struggling household wear something like that every day?”

“Maybe her husband bought it for her when he was still alive!” The long-faced lady clapped her hands. “Now that you mention it, you often talk about how considerate your husband was in front of Old Deng, don’t you? Knowing well her husband passed away years ago, yet you say such things. How do you think she feels? Of course she’s uncomfortable talking to you! I’ve never seen someone your age so eager to flaunt their affection!”

Her words were sharp and direct, making the round-faced aunt blush and mutter defensively that she wasn’t the person the other described. But perhaps struck by the truth, she seemed a little guilty and didn’t argue much further.

“Oh, you two are just two sides of the same coin! Always trying to get the upper hand in conversation!” The curly-haired aunt, acting as peacemaker, chuckled to ease the tension and then added, “I haven’t interacted much with Old Deng, don’t know her well, but I think she’s quite blessed. Look at her son—though he leaves early and returns late, works hard, he’s always polite and steady whenever I meet him. That boy is truly good! And Old Deng dotes on him like no other. She dresses simply, her hair is gray but she can’t bear to spend money dyeing it, yet whenever she comes back from shopping, her bags are full of fish, meat, shrimp, and crab—almost never lacking. She says her son works so hard, she can’t help in any other way, so she just makes him good food to nourish him. At our age, what more can we ask for? A loving mother and devoted son—that’s real fortune!”

The round-faced aunt, still embarrassed from the previous exchange, hurriedly nudged her close friend, who had been quietly shelling peas nearby. “Lan, I remember Old Deng gets along well with you, right?” she asked.

Addressed by name, Aunt Lan looked up, glanced at Ning Shuyi and Huo Yan, sighed, and asked them, “Is something wrong with Old Deng?”

Before Ning Shuyi could speak, the round-faced aunt nudged Aunt Lan again. “Lan, don’t be careless! These two young ones are police officers, here for official business. Let’s not pry. If it’s not our concern, don’t ask! Besides, don’t you watch the legal programs on TV at home? If the police are coming around asking questions, it’s probably something serious!”

Aunt Lan sighed, “Life is truly hard! Deng Qingrong once told me, she feels she’s had a bitter fate. When she was young, she didn’t know what was wrong with her body—every child she had died, and after recovering, she’d try again, but the baby still wouldn’t survive. It devastated her, made her fearful to try again. Later, after much medication and encouragement, she finally had this son, whom she cared for without leaving his side, and raised with great effort. Just as her son grew up and she could hope for a few good years, her husband had an accident at the factory, was badly injured, and soon died. She was so heartbroken she almost followed him. Since then, she’s relied only on her son. I used to tell her to look on the bright side—her son is so thoughtful and hardworking, even takes extra jobs outside his regular work just to give his mother security in her old age. Such a good child is rare! Tell me... how could such a little old lady, who never offended anyone, end up in trouble?”

“Earlier you mentioned that Deng Qingrong has no other relatives or friends locally, so no one visits her house?” Ning Shuyi seized upon the detail mentioned by the long-faced aunt and asked her.

(End of chapter)