Old Mrs. Song is reborn; get out of here, you scumbag husband and illegitimate child!

The sea breeze carries a salty, fishy smell.

Tang Yuena was so moved that she couldn't speak, and could only nod vigorously.

Yan Fangfang and Zhao Yuan also came to help.

She stepped in carrying a printed cotton quilt.

"Where should I put it? Wow, a renovation would make it completely different."

Tang Yuena quickly went to greet her.

"Just put it on the bed in the inner room."

Zhao Yuan carried a basket containing bowls, chopsticks, and a small wok. "Yuena, I'll take this wok. Let me know if you need anything else in the future; it'll be more convenient for me to buy things in town."

Song Xianglan brought a bucket of oil and noodles.

"Third Aunt, you brought so much food, I can't possibly eat it all by myself." Tang Yuena's eyes reddened.

"Eat slowly. The child is growing up so fast. Xiaoyan will go to town later to buy a refrigerator and a rice cooker. This yard will be lively from now on."

Yan Fangfang smoothed out the quilt, came out, and wiped her hands with a towel.

"Yuena, don't feel guilty. Koizumi Village is different from the outside world."

We've all been through the rain. If it weren't for my third aunt holding an umbrella for me, I wouldn't even be a bone fragment left.

Now, if we lend a hand to each other and support those in need, we can have hope for the future.

Tang Yuena's tears fell in a steady stream.

She tightened her grip on the child.

"What are you crying about? The better days are yet to come." Song Xianglan stood up. "Alright, you guys pack up. I'm going back."

We left the red house.

She walked back along the seaside avenue.

The sun was directly overhead, making people feel a little dizzy.

I passed by the small shop at the entrance of the village.

Song Xianglan walked over and said, "Give me a mung bean popsicle."

Several long benches were placed under the banyan tree.

A dozen or so elderly men and women were fanning themselves with palm-leaf fans.

Some were eating watermelon.

Some were munching on popsicles.

Some people also peel and eat longan.

Everyone chatted idly, one sentence after another.

"Have you heard? Liu Chunhua hasn't even had a hot meal these past two days," Old Wang sighed. "Her three sons insist that Liu Chunhua hand over all the family's assets, saying that Jianguo had a sum of money before he died."

Aunt Yang spat:

"When I was the brigade leader before the founding of the People's Republic of China, I had some money. Those unfilial sons stole it all. Chunhua's hands are now empty; how is she going to survive?"

Several elderly people nearby shook their heads in agreement.

Old Wang shouted at the top of his lungs:

"Old Song, you're well-off, you won't have to worry about your retirement. We're the bunch who don't have many sons, who will we rely on when we get old? We can't even count on our own children."

Song Xianglan tore open the popsicle wrapper and took a bite of the ice.

"I have nothing to worry about. As long as I can move, I'll live on my own. When I can't move, I won't insert any tubes and I'll let nature take its course."

"It's easy for you to say that when you're not in my shoes," Aunt Yang said with a bitter face. "The other day I ate an extra bowl of rice, and my daughter-in-law rolled her eyes so hard they looked right through the roof. Now I don't even dare to breathe loudly, for fear they'll throw me out the door later."

"If you don't have money in your hands, you won't stand tall," Old Lin sighed.

The elderly people's worries were written all over their faces.

We've all worked hard our whole lives.

By supporting their children to grow up and start their own families, their savings had long been depleted.

"Even if I can't earn money, I'll stay home and do some farm work and take care of my grandchildren. I'm just afraid people will say I'm a freeloader."

Don't worry about it.

Song Xianglan finished her popsicle in a few bites, threw the stick into the trash can, and said, "I was just about to go to the village committee. Our village could set up a canteen for the elderly. We could pay two or three cents for each meal, and everyone could sit together and eat hot food."

These words were spoken.

The old people under the banyan tree all stared wide-eyed.

"The cafeteria? We have to pay for it ourselves?" Aunt Yang asked.

"You can't afford a penny or two?" Song Xianglan glanced at her sideways. "If you don't want to eat your children's food for free and have to put up with their attitude, what's a little money? The village committee will subsidize some, and my seafood factory will contribute some more. We can get it up and running."

Old Man Wang laughed and said:

"Can it really be done? Then I won't just eat for free. I'll take on all the odd jobs in the cafeteria."

"I grow a lot of vegetables at home, so I can pick some and take them over every day," Aunt Yang quickly added. "I won't eat them for free."

"Leave the dishwashing to me; I'm quick and efficient."

"I can cook. When I can't, it'll be the younger generation's turn to cook."

"We can contribute money or effort. Let's not let Lao Song suffer alone."

The elderly people instantly perked up.

They started assigning tasks in a noisy, chattering manner.

Everyone started discussing it.

"I need to grow a variety of vegetables in my vegetable garden so I can take them to the senior citizens' canteen later."

Song Xianglan did not linger.

I went to the village committee compound.

Chen Jianming, the village secretary who had only been back in the village for less than two years, and Li Wenhui, the village head, were both in the office.

Song Xianglan pushed open the door and went in.

"Grandma Song, what brings you here?" Li Wenhui quickly stood up to offer her a seat and poured her a cup of tea.

"I've brought you some work to do," Song Xianglan said bluntly, "the issue of elderly care in the village."

Chen Jianming was taken aback.

"This... mainly relies on children for support, and some of the five-guarantee households receive a monthly subsidy."

"I listened around outside the convenience store today. You all know about Wang Jianguo's messy situation. The old folks have no money and have to rely on their children. I have a suggestion: the village committee should take the lead in setting up a canteen for the elderly and a senior activity center."

Li Wenhui pondered for a moment:

"Grandma Song, that's a good idea. But funding is a major expense."

"You'll provide the venue."

Song Xianglan was straightforward: "As for labor, the elderly in the village can be paid hourly workers, and we'll give them some work to do. My seafood factory will cover the shortfall in food and drink."

The two exchanged a glance.

His eyes shone.

"The abandoned primary school in the east of the village has been empty for a long time. We can renovate it and put it into use. In addition, I will contact the town health center to send doctors down regularly to check on the elderly."

"Hurry up." Song Xianglan stood up.

The two young cadres acted swiftly and decisively.

Within half a month, the old primary school was transformed into a canteen and activity room.

The atmosphere in the village has also changed.

Many elderly people voluntarily arranged for each household to donate vegetables every day.

There are also eggs.

People who had done their chores at home came here to help with the work.

Li Wenhui mobilized the masses to plant bougainvillea, roses, flame trees, and camellias along both sides of the road and on vacant land.

The village primary school teacher was carrying several buckets of paint.

They started painting in the senior citizens' canteen and on the wall of the red house facing the sea.

She is skillful; her paintings of waves and fishing boats are incredibly lifelike.

The bougainvillea that had been growing in Tang Yuena's yard for over ten years had half its body sticking out from over the wall, covering the fishing boat in the painting. She also painted a fisherwoman in fisherwoman attire pointing in the direction of the bougainvillea.

Red flowers, white walls, blue sea. Several barefoot fisherwomen return together.

Passersby would stop and take a look.

The sight spread like wildfire, attracting many city dwellers to come and take photos.

More people are coming.

The elderly in the village have also found a way to make a living.

Some set up small stalls by the sea to sell water, while others sold maltose.

Xiao Yan's clothing store also started a business renting out Fisherwoman costumes and makeup.

Autumn arrived in the blink of an eye.

In the afternoon, Song Xianglan had just finished eating and was sitting in a rattan chair in the main room, resting with her eyes closed.

The black landline on the table rang shrilly.

Song Xianglan picked up the phone, and Yang Liu's anxious voice came through: "Third Aunt, are you free to come to Shenzhen these next few days?"

Song Xianglan frowned.

"Shenzhen is so far away, what would an old woman like me do there?"

"You have to do something about Yifeng and the others," Yang Liu said, her voice tinged with annoyance. "That brat, she's only getting older but not wise. Letting them date and get married is like taking their lives. They all argue with me."

Song Xianglan disagreed, saying, "What does it matter whether we get married or not? If we don't meet the right person, do we have to settle for someone else?"

Yang Liu was anxious.

"Please don't say that. Song Qiang said I'm the one who corrupted my daughters and made it impossible for them to get married."

"What bad influence are you setting?"

"I...I've dated a few people in the last two years, you know," Yang Liu said, her voice lowered, sounding a little guilty. "I just think dating is a good thing. Maybe my attitude of dating without getting married has influenced them; now they're all copying me."

Song Xianglan sneered:

"Your business is so big, what's wrong with dating a few people? If he doesn't like it, that's his own business."

"I can't be bothered with him either," Yang Liu said in a low voice. "But Yi Feng and Er Feng are really not young anymore. And it seems like Yi Feng has run into some trouble."

"I'm not going." Song Xianglan was about to hang up the phone.

"Hey, wait a minute!"

Yang Liu raised her voice anxiously, "You don't care about anything else, but what about Xiang Dong and Hui Jun's matter?"

Song Xianglan paused.

"What happened to Xiangdong and Huijun?"

"These two are really weird," Yang Liu sighed. "They don't look like they're arguing, but something just feels off. They're so polite to each other, like they're doing business. What's that called... mutual respect? It's too much. They don't seem like a normal married couple at all."

Xiang Dong and Hui Jun are people who have experienced many ups and downs.

How could it be as polite as Yang Liu said?

Something must have gone wrong between these two.

"I'll take a bus to Shenzhen tomorrow morning."

"Okay. I'll pick you up at the station." Yang Liu breathed a sigh of relief.