Chapter 0008: The Future Is Not a Dream

Zhao Fusheng had never been one to shirk responsibility, because he believed that a man's word was his bond—once spoken, it was like water spilled; since he had agreed to something, he had to see it through no matter what.

This was influenced by his father; Old Zhao had always been that way.

But when Old Zhao opened the door at noon, Zhao Fusheng, without a word, smiled at his father and said, "Dad, why don't you play with Beibei for a while?"

"Huh?"

Old Zhao looked bewildered, picked up Fan Beibei, and rubbed his stubble against her cheek, making the little girl laugh out loud.

Only then did he look at his son: "What's wrong with you?"

Zhao Fusheng's face was full of bitterness: "Well, she asked me what a brother-in-law is..."

Pfft.

Old Zhao burst out laughing, never expecting his son to be so stumped.

As they say, children speak without restraint; in that little girl's mind, she probably didn't understand the difference between a brother-in-law and a brother. To her, Zhao Fusheng was the hero who had come to save her and her mother when their family was in crisis.

It had to be said that although he was a rough man, Old Zhao had a talent for soothing children, and soon he had Fan Beibei fast asleep.

After putting the little girl on the sofa, Old Zhao turned to his son: "Do you really like Baobao?"

After all, this wasn't feudal society anymore; so-called parental decrees and matchmaker words were just excuses. Although Old Zhao and his wife liked Fan Baobao very much, he didn't want his son to marry a woman he didn't love.

Zhao Fusheng was taken aback, then understood. His father's meaning was clear: if he said he didn't like Fan Baobao, then the Zhao family could wash their hands of this debt, at most lending the Fan family eight or ten thousand as a gesture of goodwill. After all, closeness and distance mattered, and the way one handled things differed.

In other words, fifty thousand yuan was no small sum. The main reason Old Zhao had refused Jiang He was that he didn't want any mishap with the money meant for his son's marriage.

With that in mind, Zhao Fusheng hesitated, then nodded gently: "Mm."

He had to say that. Since his father asked this question, it likely meant that Jiang He had approached him again, trying to persuade him to ignore the Fan family's debt and invest the money in the stock market instead.

Sure enough, hearing Zhao Fusheng's words, Old Zhao nodded: "Since that's the case, I'll tell Uncle Jiang not to worry about it."

That morning, Old Zhao had gone to his workplace and, without any fuss, signed the contract for buying out his seniority. According to the factory accountant, he would receive the money within three days.

It was under these circumstances that Jiang He had approached Old Zhao.

His reasoning was simple: since the Fan family's debt wasn't due for another month, why not use the money to invest in stocks with him? It was a sure-win deal—why not do it?

Old Zhao was indeed tempted, but he was considering something else.

Fan Jian had borrowed from loan sharks. If they waited a month to repay the debt, fifty thousand yuan might not be enough, and they might end up unable to pay off the debt while the prospective daughter-in-law slipped through their fingers.

If that happened, Old Zhao felt he wouldn't be able to face his son.

That was why he asked Zhao Fusheng if he truly liked Fan Baobao.

One's living conditions determine one's horizons—that was a painful truth. Sometimes people could only watch helplessly as a close friend changed from open and sincere to cold and withdrawn, with no way to stop it, because that was life.

Zhao Fusheng was the same. Although he knew exactly what Jiang He was doing, aside from stopping his own parents, he was powerless to prevent other things from happening, because even if he tried, no one would listen to him.

They say truth lies within the range of artillery. In the end, it was because only when one was in a position of strength could one have the power to decide.

Rather than worrying about others' lives, it was better to care about one's own future.

"Dad, you need to take care of yourself from now on. Our family depends on you." Zhao Fusheng quickly showed his filial piety to his father.

Patting his son's head, Old Zhao smiled: "Don't worry, I'm still waiting to hold my grandchild."

Hearing this, Zhao Fusheng's heart twitched. For him, the hardest things to let go of in this life were probably his father and mother.

Through the bonds of time, the memories in his blood—although this world might be somewhat unfamiliar and seemingly different—to Zhao Fusheng, as long as his father and mother were here, nothing else mattered.

"Dad, don't worry. I won't let you down." Zhao Fusheng said seriously.

But then Old Zhao's next sentence instantly broke his composure.

Looking at his son who was pledging his resolve, Old Zhao hesitated, then lowered his voice: "Well, you and Baobao are still young. Don't go making a life..."

"Uh..." Zhao Fusheng suddenly felt terrible.

"Well, I'll go check on the child."

Seeming to feel it was inappropriate to discuss this with his son, Old Zhao found an excuse and left Zhao Fusheng on the sofa.

Zhao Fusheng watched his father's back, his expression grim. His father was getting old after all. Though not yet showing his age fully, compared to the spirited young man he once was, time had quietly taken away his youth. The gray hair at his temples and the wrinkles constantly reminded Zhao Fusheng that in his memory, the father who had stood like a mountain shielding him from wind and rain was truly old.

Since his father was laid off, Zhao Fusheng's next consideration was what to suggest his father do.

The 21st century was about to begin. In his mind, there were too many profitable and suitable industries for his father. To put it figuratively, Zhao Fusheng was like a croupier in a casino, with too many cards in hand. He could easily deal his father a bomb that would let him sweep the board.

The problem now was how to get his father to listen to him.

Sitting on the sofa at home, Zhao Fusheng fell into deep thought.

...

...

In the afternoon, a weary Li Yuan and Fan Baobao returned and picked up Fan Beibei.

Zhao Fusheng had wanted to ask Li Yuan about certain things, but seeing the expressions on the mother and daughter's faces, he didn't dare to speak.

After thinking it over, he decided he would have to find a chance to ask Fan Baobao when he got back to school.

When his mother came home from work, she had bought spareribs. Naturally, Zhao Fusheng personally went to the Fan household to invite the three women over.

As his mother put it, they were all family, so why stand on ceremony?

Both Zhao Fusheng and Fan Baobao wanted to shout "MMP" at that, but unfortunately, faced with the enthusiastic mother, no one dared to resist.

Fate was like a certain act—since you couldn't resist, you might as well enjoy it.

So, Fan Baobao ate the spareribs and chicken wings before her with gusto, as if they were that bastard Zhao Fusheng himself.

Meanwhile, Zhao Fusheng looked innocently at the mountain of food piled in front of him.

All of it had been put there by Li Yuan.

As the saying goes, a mother-in-law looks at her son-in-law and finds him more pleasing each time.

In Li Yuan's eyes, Zhao Fusheng was undoubtedly the ideal son-in-law.

Filial and sensible, from a good school, with a family background they knew well, and most importantly, he treated Fan Baobao well and didn't mind her and her younger daughter being a burden.

For a moment, Li Yuan felt that even if she passed away now, she wouldn't have to worry about her two daughters.

If Zhao Fusheng knew what Li Yuan was thinking, he would be terrified. He admitted Fan Baobao was pretty, but the problem was that he didn't really have any feelings for her now.

After all, with a mental age of several decades, it would be a joke for him to suddenly develop feelings for a twenty-year-old girl.

More importantly, he and Fan Baobao were more like close friends who had grown up together. As for romantic feelings, Zhao Fusheng himself couldn't say whether they existed or not.

"Dad, what are your plans next?"

Zhao Fusheng asked his father while eating.

Old Zhao thought for a moment, then shook his head: "Let's see first. You and Baobao focus on your studies. The family matters are for us adults to handle."

He said this to reassure Fan Baobao and Zhao Fusheng, since both were in college.

Fan Baobao didn't speak, her eyes slightly red, silently eating with her head down, determined to work hard at acting after graduation to repay Uncle and Aunt Zhao.

After all, Zhao Fusheng was their own son, while she was just a so-called "daughter-in-law" whose marriage wasn't even settled yet.

Old Zhao hadn't expected that his words would make the atmosphere so heavy, and he felt a bit awkward.

Fortunately, little Fan Beibei saved everyone. The little princess pointed at the chicken wing in her bowl and ordered Zhao Fusheng: "Brother, Beibei wants meat."

Zhao Fusheng laughed heartily, tearing the chicken wing into small pieces for Beibei while saying to the others: "Dad, don't worry. So many people are jumping into business these days, and you have skills. You'll definitely find a job. If not, we can open our own shop."

The adults were taken aback, looked at each other, and suddenly felt that what Zhao Fusheng said made some sense.