Chapter 757

Perhaps because he’d never really felt love growing up, Jiang Bai matured emotionally very early. He told himself that if he ever had a child, he would pour all his love into that one child. So when his daughter was born, Jiang Bai was overjoyed—he treated her like a precious gem and gave all his affection to her alone.

Have another one? He was afraid it would divide the love meant solely for his daughter.

As for not taking his surname? He couldn’t care less.

He was indifferent to many things in life. Material desires were almost nonexistent. Even his relationship with Xu Xiuli had started because her parents were the ones who first set their sights on Jiang Bai and then tried every means to treat him well, just to bring him in as their son-in-law.

Back when Xu Xiuli spent a lot of time with Jiang Bai in Shanghai, he had been incredibly busy—and utterly dense. Their lab was in a critical phase of research at the time. He would go one or two months without even stepping outside. His entire being was absorbed in his research. Dating? Out of the question.

In Jiang Bai’s world, romantic emotions simply didn’t exist.

Xu Xiuli was the kind of girl whose parents, back in school, were deathly afraid she’d get her heart broken by dating. But after graduation, they flipped and started obsessing over her love life. No matter who she brought up, they always found something unsatisfactory—until they met Jiang Bai.

It was actually Father Jiang who, upon finding out that his little granddaughter didn’t carry the Jiang surname but was instead surnamed Xu, couldn’t help but complain to Mother Jiang at home more than once, “How could she have the Xu surname? She should be surnamed Jiang—then she could get a share of the tea fields! Is he stupid?”

The more Father Jiang thought about it, the more frustrated he became. He’d often be halfway through a meal, think of this, and suddenly feel uneasy all over. He even considered bringing it up with Jiang Bai, asking if he could change her surname back—but Jiang Bai’s work made it hard to even get in touch with him.

To be fair, Father Jiang’s desire for Xu Yuanzhen to carry the Jiang name wasn’t entirely selfish. He genuinely believed that, being surnamed Jiang, she’d be more likely to get a good tea field share.

But the Xu family was wealthy. They ran a chain of appliance stores and made a lot of money. Even though business had taken a hit due to the rise of e-commerce, there were still people—especially in smaller towns like theirs—who preferred shopping for appliances in person.

With their substantial family assets, the Xus didn’t care much about yearly tea field earnings. After all, all their wealth would eventually go to their granddaughter anyway. Besides, since little Zhenzhen would definitely go to school in Shanghai, her household registration would naturally be transferred there.

The villagers didn’t know that Xu Yuanzhen didn’t carry the Jiang surname, so they’d often ask Father Jiang, “Why hasn’t your youngest son brought his kid back to register the household here for the tea field shares?”

Father Jiang would just smile and say,

“You all know my youngest son works in a confidential unit—I don’t even know exactly what he does. He’s surely working on some top-secret national research. He’s settled down in Shanghai now, and the kid’s going to school there, so of course the household registration has to be in Shanghai.”

People in the village had all heard how outrageous housing prices were in Shanghai—even if they’d never left their little town in their lives. So the fact that Jiang Bai had settled down there and even owned property made him a figure of great pride in the village.

As for how Jiang Bai gave up a perfectly good career as a celebrity to pursue scientific research—in the eyes of the villagers, that was the proper path. To their generation, scientists and researchers were the most honorable of professions—far more glorious than being a celebrity.

Since Jiang Bai never came back, and Father Jiang didn’t bring it up, it wasn’t until much later that people found out his granddaughter didn’t carry the Jiang surname.”

Despite how much Father Jiang minded it deep down, on the surface, he maintained a highly open-minded attitude and laughed, “What era are we in now? As long as she’s one of our Jiang family, what does a surname matter?”

He sighed, “Honestly, I have no objection to Zhenzhen taking her mother’s surname. Bai is in that confidential unit—we barely see him throughout the year. It’s always her mom and her maternal grandparents raising her. And her mom is an only child.”

Jiang Uncle was eventually convinced by this—mainly because the Jiang family had way too many boys.

Jiang Song and Jiang Bai aside, there were Jiang Hongjun, Jiang Hongbing, Jiang Jun—and the generation above them: Father Jiang, Jiang Guoliang, Jiang Guoan—all sons.

But when it came to the Yuan generation, things took a turn. Jiang Hongjun, Jiang Hongbing, Jiang Jun, and Jiang Bai all had daughters. Only Jiang Yuanhao was a boy, which made Uncle Jiang constantly yearn for a grandson. He’d often mutter at home, “I told you not to let Ning Ning jump the marriage bed!”

But now, his daughters-in-law weren’t afraid of their father-in-law anymore. They’d tease him with bright smiles, “What’s wrong with granddaughters? Aren’t they just as good? You can’t even dream of having an auntie like Ning Ning bless the bed these days!”

When Uncle Jiang’s first granddaughter was born, he proudly carried her on his shoulders everywhere he went. Of course he couldn’t tolerate people saying bad things about his granddaughters. Still, he sighed, “Still, it can’t all be granddaughters. Gotta have at least one grandson, right?”

His wife scolded him, “What do you mean who’ll honor the ancestors?”

Jiang Hongbing laughed with a red face and said, “In the future, my Yuanyuan can marry a live-in son-in-law!”

That made the whole group burst into laughter.

Uncle Jiang got so mad he wanted to hit him, “What do you mean ‘burning paper money’?”

When Jiang Ning got pregnant—even though it was an external granddaughter—Father Jiang and Uncle Jiang still went all the way up to Wugong Mountain’s temple and burned a ton of incense, begging the gods to bless her with a boy.

As expected—it was a girl.

But when it came to Jiang Ning’s child, Father Jiang, Uncle Jiang, Uncle Jiang’s wife, Aunt Jiang, Aunt Jiang’s husband, even Jiang Guoliang, Jiang Guoan, and Jiang Guotai—all treated her differently. As soon as she was born, a whole big group traveled a long way together, flying to H province to see Jiang Ning. They brought loads of red envelopes for the newborn Song Yuanjin. The little girl was a mini-rich lady from day one.

At this time, every household in Jiang Village had an annual income of over a million yuan. Shuibu Town had even been ranked among the top 100 towns in the country. Jiang Guotai had even been invited to Beijing to meet national leaders.

But Father Jiang and Uncle Jiang had never flown before. That first plane ride had them giddy with excitement. When they returned, they kept bragging about how much Jiang Ning’s daughter looked like her—how snowy white her skin was, how adorably she was shaped, just like Jiang Ning as a child.

Originally, Father Jiang had wanted to take Mother Jiang, who had just come back from living with their eldest son, to go see Jiang Ning together. But after living with Jiang Song for a few years—despite living in comfort and hardly doing any work—Mother Jiang had aged rapidly. Her hair had gone mostly gray, and all her energy seemed drained. She argued with her eldest daughter-in-law every day.

Ironically, during the years when Mother Jiang had taken their granddaughter and moved in her eldest son’s house, leaving Jiang Village behind, Father Jiang had been left alone in their hometown. It was a little lonely, sure—but he kept himself busy running a small fast-food store, playing cards and mahjong with other village elders when he had downtime. Though the work was tiring, he was in high spirits—his cheeks ruddy, even sporting a bit of a belly.

When Xu Xuedie first came to Jiang Village, she immediately demanded Jiang Bai’s house, arguing that since Jiang Song was the eldest, he should have the bigger house, while Jiang Bai, as the youngest, should get the smaller one.

But in this matter, Mother Jiang was unshakably firm. That big villa—similar to the one Jiang Ning had—could only belong to Jiang Bai.

It wasn’t that Mother Jiang favored Jiang Bai over Jiang Song. It was just that, in her heart, that red-brick house was Jiang Song’s true home.

From the very beginning, her dream of retirement had been tied to that house. Many of the furnishings inside were things she and Father Jiang had personally picked out.