The Stepmother’s Counterattack: Raising a Child in a Bygone Era

Shen Mingzhu chuckled as she walked over, "Haven’t had your fill of looking yet? Planning to stare until flowers bloom?"

Pei Yang shifted his gaze from his watch, placed his hands behind his head, and leaned back onto the sofa, lamenting with her,

"Sometimes, I feel like an extra in this family. Here I am, the father, and my son is out-earning me."

"Then why don’t you move out? The three of us women can live on our own, and you can be by yourself."

Pei Yang glared at her with a deep-seated grievance, a look of hurt on his face, "You don’t comfort me, and instead, you rub salt in my wounds."

Shen Mingzhu rolled her eyes, "Be content. Not everyone gets to enjoy the blessings of children and grandchildren by fifty, and here you are, not even forty, already reaping the respectful offerings of your son. Others are envious of you."

Hearing Shen Mingzhu put it that way, Pei Yang began feeling indeed that he didn’t know when he was well off (unaware of the fragrance of the easy life he led).

Cheered by the thought, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander as he gazed at his soft, tender-looking wife under the lamplight.

"Honey..."

"I’m off to bed," Shen Mingzhu said curtly, quashing Pei Yang’s romantic notions. "Have to get up early tomorrow."