Chapter 22: The Ruthless Mother-in-law—Better a Short Pain Than a Long One

The reward last night was quite nice; women really do mean what they say when it comes to food!

The next morning, Cheng Xueming was woken by the sounds of Feng Jiayou arguing with her mother.

What now?

Climbing out of the warm bed, Cheng Xueming saw Feng Jiayou storming in, clearly furious.

"What happened?" he asked, gesturing quietly towards the commotion outside.

"What do you think happened? She's just targeting me, making things difficult for no reason!"

Feng Jiayou angrily slammed her washbasin onto the rack and shouted toward the door, "I'm not revising it anymore! Whoever wants to revise it can do it themselves!"

Uh...

Another rejection? Her mother’s speed at reviewing drafts was almost frightening!

Last night, Feng Jiayou was relentless, working late into the night to revise her manuscript. Cheng Xueming had worried that all this stress might harm their unborn child, urging her to rest more and take her time. But she insisted on finishing the revisions overnight and sent the draft to her mother first thing in the morning, confident it would finally be accepted.

Who could have guessed that, in the time it took to brush her teeth, the draft would be returned yet again?

His heart ached for her.

"Wife, maybe you should submit to Beijing Literary instead?" Cheng Xueming, now in rebellious mode, encouraged Feng Jiayou to abandon her mother and try Beijing Literary.

Hadn’t Feng Jiayou herself threatened to stop submitting to her mother’s magazine, October, and switch to Beijing Literary?

Last night, she told Cheng Xueming to submit his work there; why not do it together? Betraying once or twice—it’s all the same.

Her mother’s demands were so harsh, Cheng Xueming genuinely feared them.

"You think I don't want to? Right now I regret everything!"

Feng Jiayou sat at the bedside, unrolling the rejected manuscript her mother had just handed back, scanning it quickly.

More sections had been slashed with a red pen, demanding revision! And these were new—her mother hadn’t flagged them before.

"Can’t you just mark all the revisions at once? Every time I finish changing something, something else pops up. You’re deliberately making this hard!"

She was beyond frustrated.

Where is the sense in this review process? Instead of marking all the revision notes at once, her mother waits until she’s finished, only to demand new changes elsewhere. The whole story is just over ten thousand words, but she’s revised nearly every paragraph, every word! And the rejections come in batches, each time with new changes—if this isn’t purposeful obstruction, what is?

"Yes, yes, I’m deliberately making things hard for you. Is that what you want to hear?"

"Have you even looked at what you turned it into? Fix the front and ruin the back. The wording is disconnected, rambling, packed with nonsense. Can’t you read it through yourself?"

"And you blame me for not marking everything at once? Clearly, you’re just hopeless. I have no idea how you got into Beijing University, let alone the Chinese department!"

Her mother’s tongue was as sharp as ever, a trait the two women clearly shared.

"How is it not consistent? You’re doing it intentionally!"

Feng Jiayou tried to retort, but as she read through the sections her mother had marked for deletion, she found herself unable to argue further.

Revising a manuscript always felt like cutting into your own flesh—every word deleted was painful. She believed each time that surely this version would pass, but living inside the mountain, she couldn’t see the full picture of what she’d created.

"Wife, calm down! I think it’s quite good already, not as bad as your mother says. Just minor issues. When we’re back at school, I’ll help you polish it up."

Cheng Xueming glanced at the manuscript and had to admit, his mother-in-law was a true professional—her review skills were impressive.

But he wasn’t so tactless as to tell his wife outright that her manuscript had gotten worse with every revision. He chose his words carefully.

Besides, he couldn’t let her be tormented further by this story.

He decided to revise the manuscript himself.

"It’s the only way! Sorry to trouble you, Xueming. I'd rather eat more than revise this thing—it makes me sick!"

Ugh!

At the mention of nausea, Feng Jiayou was suddenly overtaken by pregnancy sickness. Cheng Xueming quickly grabbed the washbasin, patting her back. "Is it really that bad, wife?"

"How could it not be?" Feng Jiayou finally caught her breath, gave him a sideways glance, and grumbled, "You’re just as bad as my mother, always torturing me!"

"Heh, I’ll revise it, I promise! Don’t worry, wife, I’ll make your manuscript shine!"

"That’s more like it!" Feng Jiayou flirted back, then remembered something. "By the way, Mom said you still have to go to Beijing University Affiliated High School for the repeat class."

"Still have to go? Didn’t you explain to Mom?" Cheng Xueming’s face fell at her words.

"You have to go," Feng Jiayou nodded, agreeing with her mother. "She’s right. Without a middle or high school graduation certificate, you can’t directly register for next year’s college entrance exam."

"But if you get into the repeat class at Beijing University Affiliated High School, it counts as an equivalent high school diploma. The school will help you register directly, saving us from having to pull strings elsewhere."

When submitting her manuscript that morning, Feng Jiayou had brought up Cheng Xueming’s reluctance to join the repeat class, only to be immediately shot down by her mother.

The main reason for going to the repeat class at Beijing University Affiliated High School was not just for exam preparation, but to obtain an equivalent high school graduation status.

Returnee educated youths fought desperately to get into repeat classes—mostly for this reason: to qualify for the college entrance exam with an equivalent diploma. Otherwise, studying at home, many returnees failed the academic requirements.

"Xueming, let’s just go to Beijing University Affiliated High School for the repeat class, all right?"

"And it’s right next to Beijing University. Our original plan hasn’t changed—you can still drop me off and pick me up for classes, can’t you?"

Feng Jiayou added.

"Fine! I’ll listen to you, wife."

When it came to Cheng Xueming’s plans to apply to Beijing University next year, Feng Jiayou put it above everything else, completely in sync with her mother.

Since she had spoken, Cheng Xueming had no choice but to go, even if he still didn’t want to join the repeat class.

He’d see what it was like first. Given his current foundation, he didn’t really need daily classes—but that was just his assumption. He’d find out once he was officially enrolled.

"Hehe, Xueming, keep it up! Once you get into Beijing University, you’ll have to call me senior sister, understand?" Feng Jiayou teased him, her eyes shining.

"Sure, at school we’ll each play our part—I call you senior sister, you call me senior brother. Sound fair?"

"No, no! You’ll be my junior, little brother!"

This was the confidence of someone scoring over four hundred in five subjects. Beijing University was, in their eyes, something easily within reach.

"Xueqing, maybe let her pass this time? Is it really that bad? She’s revised it so many times already!"

Over at the Feng parents’ side, the topic was still Jiayou’s manuscript.

Because of it, mother and daughter had been at odds constantly. Was it really necessary?

"She hasn’t put any effort into revising. It gets worse each time, and she blames me?" Feng’s mother glared at her husband, annoyed that everyone seemed to be blaming her.

"Then just reject it outright! She’s pregnant—let her rest and focus on the baby. If she keeps revising, I’m worried it’ll affect her health!" Feng’s father, with a sound perspective, suggested rejecting the manuscript outright, without asking for any shortcuts.

Feng’s mother was momentarily surprised, then nodded in agreement.

"Better a short pain than a long one. Next time she submits, I’ll just reject it. It’s simply unreadable, can’t be approved!"

...