My Wife Is A Miracle Doctor In The 80s

Chapter 829: Chapter 813: People and Waste Chapter 829: Chapter 813: People and Waste His sister’s obsession with cleanliness was a professional hazard; sometimes she felt the need to wash her hands with disinfectant, as if she couldn’t stand it unless she scrubbed a layer of skin off.

Although he hadn’t reached that stage yet, under his sister’s subtle influence, he too had developed a bit of germaphobia.

He opened the door, ready to head to the washroom to wash up, while outside, Ren’s mother was helping Wu Liangliang wash his hands.

Even with assistance, Wu Liangliang was reluctant, flinching at first, then relenting when cajoled with promises of treats.

Ren’s mother doted on her grandson as if he were an emperor—she was just short of kneeling down and saying,

“Your highness, your servant is here to wash your face, to change your clothes, to wipe your bottom.” Tang Xincheng shuddered at the thought, his scalp tingling with discomfort.

This wasn’t raising a child; it was fattening up a pig for slaughter—to eat its meat.

His sister had said that when people are young, they should learn as much as possible, endure hardships, and work hard so that, later on, they could overcome the thorny paths and obstacles of growth, instead of shrinking back at the slightest discomfort.

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So his sister argued that the children of the future would become too weak, unlike the past generations who could handle stress without resorting to drastic measures like suicide.

Anyway, he wasn’t going to be raised like a pig—that was certain.

Being a pig held no appeal; being a person, with more freedom and self-respect, was far better.

When he arrived at the washroom, he started washing his clothes.

Seeing this, Ren’s father hurried over, taken aback.

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“Chengcheng, why are you washing clothes?

Here, let Grandpa do it for you.”

“No need, Grandpa, I can wash them myself.”

Tang Xincheng squatted on the ground and, despite his small hands, his movements were quick and skilled—as if he were well-practiced and not trying to show off.

Ren’s father also squatted down and could tell at a glance that Tang Xincheng must have had a lot of practice with laundry—how he held the detergent, how he scrubbed the cuffs and collar first before the rest; every step he took was correct, and so was the sequence.

“Chengcheng, do you often wash clothes at home?”

Ren’s father thought at first that Ren Li might be abusing Tang Xincheng.

He assumed that all children must be raised like Wu Liangliang—having everything handed to them, with not a single inconvenience allowed.

If anything ever went wrong, they’d either cry or throw a fit.

Wu Liangliang couldn’t even wash clothes; sometimes, he even wet his pants.

As Tang Xincheng diligently washed his clothes, he said, “In our family, children must wash their own clothes from a young age.

I started washing mine when I was three.

My sister says that someone who can’t even take care of their own life isn’t a person, but a waste.”

His mention of “waste” pierced Ren’s father’s heart because Wu Liang had indeed been turned into one by Ren Ying and Ren’s mother.

At eleven years old, he couldn’t even properly dress himself and sometimes still needed adults to feed him.

In the past, an eleven-year-old could have worked the fields and been the main labor force in a family.

Now, referring to him as a “waste” was a kind term—put harshly, he was an idiot, mentally deficient, a simpleton.

Ren Ying had never been as strong as Ren Li.

They thought they had made her that way, so they had always favored her a little more.

However, no amount of partiality could change the wide gap between Ren Ying and Ren Li.

Harshly put, Ren Ying might have grown up to be a beautiful pianist, but in terms of intelligence, she fell far short of her sister Ren Li.

She was just more sneaky and more inclined to show off.

Whether it was in looks, intellect, social skills, learning ability, or even luck, Ren Ying was not as good as her older sister, Ren Li.

Both were their daughters, so they naturally favored the lesser one a bit; if they hadn’t, who knows if that lesser daughter could live a peaceful life in the future?

Now, Ren’s father wondered if it was their excessive pampering that had made Ren Ying turn out the way she did, causing disgraceful incidents and living a life that left them unable to hold their heads high, and in turn giving birth to a son just like her.

They had already harmed their eldest daughter once; they couldn’t possibly harm her another time.

“Chengcheng, would you like to go home with Grandpa?”

Ren’s father hesitated for a while before finally speaking, but as soon as he uttered those words, he immediately regretted them.

Yet, by then, it was already too late to take them back.

“Mom and I will go back tomorrow.”

Tang Xincheng had drawn another basin of clear water, placing her freshly washed clothes inside, “In life, one must have both a beginning and an end.

If my mom has promised to stay, then we will stay.”

Ren’s father suddenly breathed a sigh of relief.

His words had been heartfelt, but even so, he regretted them.

In fact, he had genuinely felt an impulse to send the child away.

For this child was so innocent, yet, whenever he thought of Wu Liangliang, there were some things he could only endure, some things he could only suppress.

So, in the end, he was still selfish.

Tang Xincheng wrung out her clothes, preparing to hang them up to dry later.

However, she suddenly turned her head, and with a curious tone, she asked Ren’s father.

“Grandpa, is there something you haven’t told me?”

And Tang Xincheng’s words made Ren’s father’s heart skip a beat.

He quickly smiled again, “What are you thinking about, little one?

How could Grandpa possibly have something he hasn’t told you?”

He patted Tang Xincheng’s head, “It’s very late, you should go to sleep now.”

“Oh…”

Tang Xincheng nodded.

After hanging up her clothes, she was ready to sleep.

But she had brought her backpack and needed to finish her homework first; she also had to preview the lessons for Monday before she could go to bed.

Otherwise, she was afraid she wouldn’t understand what the teacher would explain on Monday.

Even if she was smart, the early bird knows to fly first.

Doesn’t she know the same, that the early bird catches the worm?

She returned to her room, but no matter what, that persistent musty smell wouldn’t go away.

She endured it.

She took her backpack, did her homework, previewed the lessons; only after everything was done did she prepare to go to sleep.

She sighed, wearily pulling back the covers and crawling in.

Oh well, it was just for one night.

After all, she would only be staying here for a day or two at most.

No matter what, she could make do.