Chapter 42 — Stuart’s Secret Ledger

The moment Grace saw Annette and Stuart returning together, her heart skipped a beat. As soon as the tractor ground to a halt, she didn't even dare look at them. Instead, she rushed straight to the side and leaned toward Nancy. "Well? Did that troublemaker get what she deserved?"

Nancy looked at her mother, then thought of the suffering she'd just endured, and tears began falling silently. "Mom…"

Worried she'd say something in front of others, Grace quickly called out, "Carl! Come carry your sister inside. See what happens when you eat recklessly? You nearly poisoned yourself!"

She shouted deliberately, directing her son to carry Nancy into the house—all loud enough for the neighbors to hear. She had to get ahead of any gossip before it damaged Nancy's prospects of marriage.

Once everyone was inside, Stuart set Annette's bag in their room and headed directly to Richard's room with her in tow.

Annette noticed how serious he looked. She had a hunch this was about to be a big family moment—maybe even a separation of households. She followed eagerly, bracing herself for drama.

Grace, meanwhile, had just settled Nancy and told Clara to prepare some brown sugar water. Then she hurried off to find Stuart, ready to complain.

She was sure Annette would say something to turn Stuart against her. So she walked in crying, playing the pitiful mother. "Stuart, it's all my fault. I must've said something wrong to upset Annette. I came to apologize."

She even wiped away a tear for good measure. "We're a family—if we start making scenes, the neighbors will laugh at us. You're the pride of our village, you know that? You married a beautiful wife, I was over the moon! I'm just an ignorant village woman who doesn't know how to speak properly. Annette, if I've offended you in any way, please don't hold it against me."

Annette raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Grace's ability to twist things was truly something. A weaker woman might have crumbled under such a performance.

She turned to Stuart, curious how he would respond. If he tried to smooth things over, she swore she'd find a chance to slap Grace later.

But Stuart remained silent throughout Grace's entire act. Only when she finished sobbing did he speak—his gaze steady on Richard.

"I came back this time to request a formal split."

"What?!"

Grace immediately stopped crying and stood up straight.

Richard, who had been lounging on the bed, bolted upright. "What did you say?"

Stuart repeated calmly, "I said I want to separate households. That was the agreement when I left for the military. Over the years, every paycheck and every allowance I earned, I sent home. I've fulfilled my part of the deal."

Carl and Charles crept up to the door, listening from just outside.

Grace panicked. "You can't just split the family like that! Look around the village—how many families have done that? If we do this, people will talk behind our backs."

Richard frowned. "Where's this idea coming from? Is it your wife's doing?"

Annette, caught in the crossfire, glared at Richard. So much for being the 'quiet one.'

But with Stuart beside her, she didn't need to say a word. Otherwise, she might've socked the old man right there.

Stuart's expression darkened. "This has nothing to do with her. It's my decision. I won't take anything from the family. But going forward, I'll send five yuan a month to help support you two."

Five yuan?

Grace nearly fainted.

It was a fraction of what they used to receive. Stuart had sent back his full salary month after month. And every time they asked for more via telegram, he'd send another hundred or two without complaint.

In the hardest years, when everyone else was scraping by, they never went hungry.

They had white flour and meat dumplings during every holiday.

Their standard of living was the best in the village. Everyone envied them.

And now… just five yuan a month?

Absolutely not.

"I don't agree!" Grace burst out. "Your older brothers have been married for years and never asked to separate households. Just because your wings have grown doesn't mean you can abandon us. Besides, that military spot? It was Carl's! If he hadn't given it up, you'd have never gotten where you are!"

Carl shrank back awkwardly. Truth was, he'd simply been too soft for the military and chickened out.

If he'd known how well Stuart would do—getting placed in the city after service—he would've fought tooth and nail for that spot.

And the military slot had cost Richard two bottles of liquor and five pounds of pork in bribes.

Stuart looked at Carl with quiet intensity.

Then, without a word, he pulled a worn, palm-sized notebook from his coat pocket. "Here's a record of every remittance I've ever sent home—down to the penny. And here," he flipped the pages, "is proof that Carl has used my name to claim benefits from the military office."

Richard straightened further. "What are you saying? What exactly are you implying?"

Grace saw the ledger and grew furious. "So you've been keeping track all these years? I can't believe this! We raised you, fed you, and this is how you repay us? You're heartless! No wonder the villagers call you a cold-blooded ingrate!"

She threw herself into a full-blown wail.

Annette stared at the little notebook, stunned. She hadn't expected Stuart to be the type to keep such careful records.

And suddenly… she had a thought.

What if he also had a notebook for her?

All the meals, the favors, the little gifts—would he one day tally it all up when they divorced?

She looked at him again, this time with suspicion.

But Stuart didn't flinch. His decision was final.

Grace cried for ages, but Stuart remained unmoved. Realizing her tears were useless, she sat on the kang and wept silently—already scheming how to change his mind.

Seeing Stuart's firm stance, Richard softened. "Alright… If this is really what you want, we'll talk it through. Once the planting rush is over and the village is free, we'll call the Party Secretary and the elders to make it official. Sound good?"

Annette expected Stuart to refuse.

But to her surprise, he nodded.

A classic delay tactic—but he played along.

Amused, Annette watched the family drama unfold, quietly noting everyone's temperament and little schemes.

Richard quickly turned to Grace. "Go fetch that chicken we butchered yesterday. Make stew for lunch—give the kids a good meal."

Grace was fuming. She'd rather feed that chicken to the dogs than let Stuart have a bite. But she had no choice. Scowling, she headed to the kitchen.

Before she could go far, Stuart stood. "No need. We won't be home for lunch."

Richard tried to stop him, but Stuart was already out the door with Annette.

Left behind, Richard slapped the kang table, coughing violently as frustration welled up inside him.

As Annette followed Stuart out of the courtyard, she noticed a few nosy neighbors peeking their heads over fences, eager for gossip but too embarrassed to come closer.

One of them called out warmly, "Hopewell Longlife, back already?"

Annette couldn't help it—she burst into laughter.