Zhan Chunying, ever outspoken, earned a slap from her mother and angry glares from her two sisters-in-law.
What kind of sister-in-law would compare things so bluntly?
Zhan's eldest sister-in-law, trying to quiet her, shoved a piece of food into Zhan Chunying's mouth. "Even food can't shut you up!"
Tang Qiyue, trying to be helpful, handed Zhan Chunying a bowl of porridge. "Little sister, have some porridge!"
The daughters-in-law's reactions created a lively scene at the table. Zhan's eldest brother and mother observed silently, while Zhan Zeyi remained calm, eating the hot porridge as if it didn't bother him.
Tang Qiyue's eyes widened with curiosity. She wanted to check if his throat was okay.
"Eat slowly. The porridge is too hot—it could burn your esophagus. If it gets inflamed, it'll be painful!" she whispered, recalling how refugees had suffered burns from scalding food.
Hearing this, Zhan Zeyi's mother patted his back. "This is home, not your army. Drink slowly—no one's rushing you to the battlefield!"
Used to his mother's scoldings, Zhan Zeyi clicked his tongue and glanced at Tang Qiyue. His expression was peculiar, but he said nothing, only eating more slowly.
The Zhan family, being ordinary, didn't enforce strict table etiquette. There were no rules about talking or silence while eating, which made Tang Qiyue feel slightly uncomfortable, yet warmly welcomed.
Her upbringing had been strict; her mother had insisted on proper manners, but had been a poor role model. Later, during the apocalypse, Tang Qiyue had grown up mostly in foster care and childcare centers, experiencing little family warmth.
In that harsh world, survival overshadowed family ties. Children grew mechanical, obedient, and numb to kinship. Seeing the lively chatter of the Zhan family, Tang Qiyue felt a strange sense of disorientation.
Lost in thought, she barely noticed Zhan Zeyi's chopsticks appear in her bowl.
"Don't force yourself if you can't eat," he said, scooping her untouched porridge into his own bowl. To him, there was nothing strange about eating her leftovers.
The scene silenced the Zhan family. Everyone stared at him.
"What are you looking at? Don't want to eat anymore? Give it all to me?"
Zhan Zeyi's metabolism was extraordinary. He could easily consume five pounds of rice at once, finishing all the food the family had prepared alone.
Zhan Chunying, recalling her brother's enormous appetite, immediately urged her nephew: "Dahai, eat quickly! Your uncle's stomach is bottomless—watch he doesn't steal your food!"
The aunt and nephew ceased their argument and began shoveling rice into their mouths frantically.
The rest of the family followed suit, afraid Zhan Zeyi would consume everything.
Tang Qiyue watched, dumbfounded, her curiosity piqued as she observed Zhan Zeyi's impressive stomach capacity.
Feeling embarrassed, Zhan Zeyi patted Tang Qiyue's head. "You'll get your share!"
He set down his chopsticks and stood up. Outside, the sound of a car signaled it was time for Tang Qiyue to return to her parents' home. Though he hadn't attended her wedding, he couldn't let the return visit appear shabby.
Yet this wasn't the main reason Zhan Zeyi had borrowed the car—it was also about the gold he'd earned for himself.
Excited at the thought of how her father would react to his carefully planned marriage, Zhan Zeyi changed into his military uniform to make a strong impression. His fierce aura made him look particularly intimidating.
After Tang Qiyue finished eating, Zhan's mother pulled her aside to show the return visit gifts. "I know your parents are separated, so I prepared two sets. They aren't expensive, but proper etiquette is important. What do you think?"
Tang Qiyue thought the gifts were more than sufficient. Her father's clever plan had ensured that the Zhan family's good reputation would at least protect her dowry.
Chen Dazhuang arrived to help load the gifts and acted as driver.
"Sister-in-law, shall we go to your father's house first or your mother's?"
Even supporting Zhan Zeyi, Chen Dazhuang wore a fresh military uniform, signaling importance. With the rank system abolished that year, uniform details and insignia indicated their experience and status. Both men belonged to the navy, wearing dark blue pressed uniforms with brown boots and weapons at their waists.
Arriving at the Tang family home, Tang's father, assuming Zhan Zeyi's fate was unknown, initially took the homecoming lightly. But when the maid announced a jeep with a special pass, he leapt from his recliner.
This vehicle wasn't just any car—it was a symbol of special status. Without adjusting his clothes, Tang's father ran to the gate. The driver, in uniform, ignored him entirely and opened the back door.
A military boot touched the ground, followed by a long leg—demonstrating just how tall the man inside was.
Tang's father froze. His supposedly crippled son-in-law now stood before him, sharp-eyed and imposing.
Instinctively, he grabbed his wife's arm, his face twitching; anyone unaware might have thought he was having a seizure.