The 1970s: Military Family Beauty

Jiang Guoqing just swept the ground with a broom twice and ran out to play with his classmates.

"Sister, go and play with Qingqing." Jiang Chaohui didn't make an excuse to slip away for the first time, and she picked up the mop consciously.

"A boy of his age should just play in the yard. He doesn't need any company at all." Jiang Furong answered nonchalantly and continued to stare at the glass of the kitchen window covered with a layer of grease, wondering what to use to clean it.

There was only laundry detergent and smelly soap at home, and she tried it, but it had almost no effect.

Jiang Zhaohui came over to look: "Sister, what are you looking at?"

Jiang Furong pointed her finger everywhere: "The kitchen window, the window of the small dark room, and the window of the room where we sleep, they block the light, making the room dim and dark. Just looking at it gives me a headache."

Whenever she saw glass, she wanted to clean it until it was shiny. She cleaned all the few light bulbs in the house.

Jiang Zhaohui frowned, wondering if this was a task assigned by his mother to his sister, and if his sister was going to assign it to him. "The windows were like this when we moved in, and our parents never cleaned them. Besides, when we move out, won't all the cleaning be for nothing?"

"Are we moving away? When?" Jiang Furong was confused.

Jiang Zhaohui blinked: "I guessed." She was afraid that her sister would not believe her, so she hurriedly gave her reason: "I'm not guessing blindly. My classmate's father and our father worked in the same office and lived in the building next to the telephone pole. They moved away, and my classmate didn't come to school anymore."

"So where did his dad go?"

"I don't know. He's a male classmate. How can I dare to ask him?"

"Oh, then let's wait for Dad to come back and ask."

"Ah? Sister, you dare to ask?"

"Then what's there to be afraid of?"

"Aren't you afraid that our mother will be angry?"

"Then don't ask in front of mom."

"Aren't you afraid that our mother will find out?"

"I'm just asking if we should move. It's not a bad thing. If Mom wasn't prone to getting angry, I would ask Dad in front of her. Mom loves getting angry, so I didn't ask in front of her. Even if she knew we asked, she wouldn't have any reason to be angry!"

Jiang Zhaohui was speechless and just looked at his sister in surprise: "Oh, then why don't you go ask our dad?"

Jiang Furong glanced at her sister and said, "Well, I'll ask."

Jiang Zhaohui was as if he had been pardoned: "Then don't say you heard it from me."

This was the second time that day that Jiang Furong heard the same thing.

She thought to herself, Hu Xiuqing was at most simple and rude, how unreasonable could he be?

It was not until the evening when Hu Xiuqing came in and got angry that Jiang Furong realized that the only reason Hu Xiuqing was angry was that he disliked her.

Hu Xiuqing had a dispute with a colleague at work during the day. In the end, the workshop director, considering that they were all family members, tried to smooth things over with the mentality of trying to make less trouble rather than more. However, after hearing the nagging of several other colleagues, Hu Xiuqing believed that the workshop director was siding with the other party, and he was so angry that he had no place to vent.

When she got home, she saw Jiang Furong helping Jiang Zhaohui with his math homework while supervising Jiang Guoqing's handwriting. The warm scene of the three siblings getting along, with the younger one obeying the older one, deeply stung Hu Xiuqing's eyes. She threw the car keys at Jiang Furong's head: "Laugh, laugh, laugh! What's so funny! You're laughing while doing homework, you only know how to play, and you're leading your brother astray!"

When Jiang Guoqing heard the noise at the door, he wanted to say hello, "Mom, you're back" to show off that he had learned some polite language, but he was stunned by the car keys that whizzed towards him.

Jiang Chaohui simply hugged his head with both hands and shrank to the ground.

Jiang Furong tilted her head, and the bicycle key chain brushed past her ear, hit the wall behind her, and fell to the ground.

How big a grudge does this have to make him use such great force to hit his own daughter?!

Jiang Furong was angry. She wanted to stand up and respond, but she found that her body's first reaction was to tremble all over, her stomach tightened into a ball, her throat became dry, and her breathing seemed to be stuck.

Take a deep breath, take a deep breath, Jiang Furong reminded herself loudly in her heart. While taking a deep breath, she stood up with the help of the table.

According to the body's subconscious reaction, this body is about to be beaten.

Jiang Furong reminded herself again in her heart that I am no longer the same person I used to be. I am Jiang Furong with an independent personality.

Hu Xiuqing rushed in from the doorway, raised his hand to strike, and shrieked, "How dare you stare at me?"

Jiang Furong grabbed a pencil from the table and used it as a tool for self-defense. She covered her chest with her backhand and pointed the tip of the pencil at Hu Xiuqing.

After taking a few deep breaths, she felt the panic in her heart had dissipated, replaced by the calmness to fight back, and the confidence that she would not lose even if she fought.

Hu Xiuqing was so frightened that she stopped in her tracks, not daring to move forward. When she saw that her eldest daughter was holding only a pencil, she flew into a rage: "You're such a rebel! Are you trying to stab me to death with a knife?!"

The pencil sharpener was right on the table, but Hu Xiuqing insisted on calling the pencil a knife.

Jiang Furong, having calmed down, wasn't affected by anyone's emotions. "Qingqing's handwriting is neat, and I praised him for it, so we were all laughing happily!"

She deliberately emphasized the tone of the words "happy smile", meaning that we are happy for the progress of your baby son, and said nothing else.

How could Hu Xiuqing listen to her explanation? She slapped her hard and said, "It's not your turn to praise my Qing's handwriting. You have no say in this family."

Jiang Furong raised her head and took half a step back to avoid the five fingers fanning her, but she still felt a slight breeze on her face.

She looked at Hu Xiuqing's increasingly ferocious face and knew that confronting him was not a solution.

If she had let Hu Xiuqing hit her a few times to vent his anger as she did before, she would have been able to find temporary peace tonight.

This was something Jiang Furong was unwilling to accept. She didn't want to suffer for others again.

If they really fought, with her current skills, Hu Xiuqing's brute force might not give her the upper hand, but she would definitely continue to verbally attack her afterwards.

This is also what Jiang Furong doesn't want to see. As long as Hu Xiuqing is at home, there will be no peace in this family.

Confucius said, "The lower class kills people with sticks, while the middle class kills people with words."

Whether it is physical or verbal, it is domestic violence, and not only the opposing parties are hurt, but also everyone in the family.

Isn’t this a complete pig teammate?

Jiang Furong had retreated to the wall, her back against the cold wall. Looking at Hu Xiuqing who was closing in on her, she took a deep breath and made up her mind to fight to the death - if Hu Xiuqing raised her arm to hit someone again, she would give her a fatal kick.