Siheyuan came through and sent Jia Zhang to prison

The two walked towards He Yuzhu's house, one after the other. Qin Huairu carried a bamboo basket and walked briskly, her mouth babbling like a sparrow in its mouth, chatting about everyday things in the yard—whose coal briquettes weren't stacked neatly enough and were scolded by the foreman; whose son had fallen while climbing a tree to steal a bird's nest and was chased and beaten by his father for half the alley. Her words always revolved around He Yuzhu, saying things like, "Zhuzi fixed the stove for Silly Zhu's family yesterday, he's so skillful," and "Zhuzi bought some pork belly the day before yesterday, it looks delicious, I guess it's for you to nourish your body."

Qin Jingru followed behind, her hand gently protecting her lower abdomen, her fingertips unconsciously rubbing against her coarse cloth jacket, feeling a tightness in her chest. She made up her mind that when they arrived, she would try to tell Brother Zhu about her pregnancy herself, and not let Qin Huairu interfere—this cousin seemed warm and friendly, but she was cunning and might use the conversation as an excuse to say something else.

On the way to the hospital, Qin Huairu noticed that Qin Jingru wasn't saying much, so she moved closer to her, their elbows almost touching. Her tone was warm and familiar: "Jingru, look at us, we grew up in the same village, we even dug sweet potato cellars together with our bare bottoms, and now we're both married and living in the city. Even though we don't live in the same courtyard, we're still related, blood is thicker than water. You're pregnant, which is a delicate time, so if you need anything, like carrying a bucket of water or buying a bag of flour, just tell me, I'll be there whenever you call."

Qin Jingru nodded, gave a soft "hmm" through her nose, and said nothing more. She knew in her heart that Qin Huairu's words, though seemingly warm, were actually tinged with calculation—last time she asked her to bring a pair of shoes for Brother Zhu, Qin Huairu had immediately told everyone in the yard, "Jingru's health has deteriorated; she can't even do needlework," as if afraid others wouldn't know how capable she was. Rather than get caught up in the conversation, it was best to say nothing more.

Throughout the rest of the journey, Qin Huairu continued to grumble, saying things like, "You need to rest more during the first three months of pregnancy, don't overexert yourself," and "You can't eat anything cold or raw. Old Wang's wife in the next village ate a piece of ice, and she almost lost her baby." Qin Jingru, however, didn't really listen. Her mind was preoccupied with the baby in her belly—if it was a boy, with features like Zhu Zi's, thick eyebrows and big eyes, Zhu Zi would be happy, and the He family line would continue; if it was a girl, that would be good too, with fair and delicate skin, like a doll in a New Year's painting. If the family was well-off, and Zhu Zi doted on her, she wouldn't suffer any mistreatment. He Yushui had told her a few days ago that when the baby was older, the unused little side room in the yard could be cleaned up for the child to live in. It was close to the main house, so if the baby cried at night, they could hear it immediately and take care of the child.

Upon arriving at the hospital, Qin Huairu followed along the entire process of queuing, registering, and finding a doctor, a concerned smile on her face. She would help carry her bag or hand her a handkerchief, but she didn't really care—after all, it wasn't her child. She was only thinking that she had helped Qin Jingru today, and that in the future, if Qin Jingru remembered their friendship, she wouldn't be turned away when she went to He Yuzhu's house to borrow some oil, salt, soy sauce, vinegar, scallions, ginger, or garlic. Maybe she could even get a free meal.

When the test results came back, the doctor showed the report and said that Qin Jingru and the baby were both healthy and the pregnancy was very stable. As for whether it was a boy or a girl, Qin Jingru didn't even ask. In her opinion, as long as the child was safe and sound, boys and girls were equally precious. Zhu Zi wasn't the kind of person who favored boys over girls. Last time He Yushui brought a female classmate to their house, he even bought a roast chicken to entertain her.

But Qin Huairu had another plan in mind. Walking back, her feet felt like they were walking on cotton, and she secretly hoped—preferably a girl. He Yuzhu might seem rough and careless, but he was actually very concerned about his image. Everyone in the courtyard praised him for being "responsible and caring." If Qin Jingru gave birth to a daughter, he might not say it, but he would definitely be unhappy and feel embarrassed. Then, she could subtly encourage him, saying things like, "A girl is good too, a sweet little cotton-padded jacket," going along with his wishes. Perhaps she could use this opportunity to build a closer relationship, and he would be more willing to help her if she encountered any difficulties at home in the future.

Back at He Yuzhu's house, Qin Jingru reluctantly turned around and went into the kitchen. She scooped out a small bag of flour from the jar and picked up a few red-skinned eggs from the bamboo basket, stuffing them into Qin Huairu's hand: "Sister, thank you for running around today. Take these things and cook them for Banggeng and the others when you get back, to help them recover."

Qin Huairu clutched the bag of flour, weighing it in her hand. It didn't seem like much, and she felt a little uneasy—she had expected more, at least a couple of pounds of brown sugar, if not a piece of meat. But she still smiled and declined, saying, "Don't be so polite with me, it's all what I should do." As she took the bag, she deliberately touched Qin Jingru's arm with her fingers, her tone mysterious: "Jingru, eat more sour things lately. There's an old saying, 'Sour for a boy, spicy for a girl.' Eating more sour things will guarantee you give Zhuzi a big, healthy son, and then the He family will be in for a good time."

Qin Jingru just smiled, raised her hand and gently touched her belly, her eyes filled with tenderness: "Never mind, there's nothing I particularly want to eat right now. I'll eat whatever I want from now on. Brother Zhu said that boys and girls are the same, he likes them both, as long as the baby is healthy."

Qin Huairu didn't say anything more, but inwardly she sneered—saying one thing and doing another, but if he really gave birth to a girl, let's see if he'll still be so calm. Old Li's family in the courtyard had three daughters, and Old Li sighed and complained to everyone he met; everyone knew he longed for a son so much his eyes were red. She turned and left, her steps quicker than when she came, thinking: as long as Qin Jingru gave birth to a girl, everything else would be none of my business. Then He Yuzhu would be unhappy, and I could go over and talk to him, cheer him up, and the opportunity to get closer would come.

In the police station office, sunlight streamed obliquely through the gaps in the blinds, casting dappled shadows on the floor that swayed gently in the breeze. Ma Xin looked at the empty conference room across the hall—the provincial inspectors had been meeting there yesterday, but were nowhere to be seen this morning. She couldn't help but walk to He Feng's desk, her face showing obvious confusion: "He Feng, why did all those inspectors from the provincial department leave? Weren't they supposed to stay and work with us on the coal mine case? It's only been one day, why did they suddenly leave?"

He Feng was tidying up a thick stack of files, marking them with red and blue pencils. Hearing this, he looked up, a faint smile on his face, but no real mirth in his eyes: "They have their own plans." He didn't elaborate—his plan was currently known only to Zhao Lei. This case was far too complex; even Jiang Hu at the mining hospital was just the tip of the iceberg. The more people who knew, the greater the risk of leaks; caution was advised.