Reborn in the 80s: My Whole Family Secretly Hears My Thoughts and Goes Wild with Success! - Chapter 10

Yue Minghui was about to refuse when Shen Zhiqiu spoke up: “Eldest Sister, could you take one for her, please?”

Out of courtesy to Shen Zhiqiu, Yue Minghui relented. “Fine.”

“Eldest Sister Minghui, is this black-and-white or color?” Wang Fengqin asked eagerly.

“Color.”

“Ohhh, color! What a treat for me today!”

Shen Zhiqiu beckoned Wang Fengqin over. “Come, let me adjust your collar. You can sit on the sofa for the photo.”

“Yes, yes!”

So thrilled at saving five yuan on a color portrait, Wang Fengqin forgot she was still wearing Shen Zhiqiu’s mother’s necklace.

Shen Zhiqiu hadn’t acted out of filial piety—she was collecting evidence.

With her health still fragile, she couldn’t afford an outright confrontation. But letting Wang Fengqin’s theft of her mother’s belongings slide? Never.

After one shot, Wang Fengqin tugged at Yue Minghui’s sleeve. “Could we—”

“Auntie,” Yue Minghui withdrew the camera, “I’m here specifically to photograph Yaya for my father. Surely you wouldn’t deprive a baby of her moment?”

She knew Wang Fengqin’s type—always grasping for more while cloaking it in virtue. Best to cut her off preemptively.

“Eldest Sister, of course I wouldn’t!” Wang Fengqin’s eyes lingered greedily on the camera, scrambling for an excuse.

“Glad we agree.” Yue Minghui smiled thinly. “With us here, you needn’t trouble yourself. Your husband and Shen Xiang must need you at home.”

Without waiting for a rebuttal, she summoned the guard at the door. “Xiao Wang, please escort Auntie out.”

Handing Wang Fengqin’s discarded parcels to the guard, she added, “Make sure she reaches the main gate before returning.”

Xiao Wang saluted. “Yes, ma’am!”

“Auntie, after you.”

Stunned, Wang Fengqin was ushered away before she could utter another word to Shen Zhiqiu.

• • •

“Mingyuan, Zhiqiu, eat your meal. Don’t mind me—I’ll keep photographing Yaya.”

Yue Minghui used the remaining film on the baby. Though Yaya couldn’t move much, her expressions shifted endlessly, each more photogenic than the last.

“Sis,” Yue Mingyuan said suddenly, “could you ask Brother-in-law to source a camera for me? The same model as yours.”

He hesitated, then added, “Also, I’ve heard of foreign video cameras—the kind that record onto tapes. And a DVD player to view them.”

Yue Minghui understood his intentions instantly. “Consider it done.”

Checking her watch, she gathered her coat. “I’ve an interview scheduled. Second Sister-in-law will relieve me at noon with your lunch—might be delayed. If you’re hungry, ask Xiao Wang or Xiao Li to fetch meals from the cafeteria.”

Bending over Yaya’s crib, she kissed the baby’s forehead. “Aunt will return tonight with your cousin Xiaofeng.”

As she straightened, Yaya suddenly flailed her tiny fists, eyes welling with tears.

[Aunt! Drive slowly! No running red lights—danger! Danger!]

The memory struck like lightning: In her past life, Yue Minghui had lost both legs in a crash today after running a red light.

The vibrant, proud woman had withered in depression, leaping from her balcony eighteen months later.

Broken by dual tragedies—his wife’s suicide and their son’s subsequent accident—Yue Minghui’s husband had followed her in death.

Though not their biological child, Yue Minghui was her adoptive parents’ favorite. The news of her crash had triggered Grandpa Yue’s fatal stroke; Grandma Yue succumbed to grief within three months.

• • •

Traffic lights were still rare in this era, existing only at major intersections—and largely ignored. Yue Minghui typically blew through them without thought.

Now, running late for an interview with a notoriously punctuality-obsessed subject, she eyed a deserted red-light intersection. Her foot hovered over the accelerator—

Then Yaya’s tearful warning echoed in her mind.

She lifted her foot.

WHOOSH!

A freight truck barreled through the crossing at terrifying speed, leaving only a blur in its wake.

Yue Minghui’s hands trembled on the wheel.

Had she charged ahead, the collision would’ve been catastrophic.

• • •

That evening, Yue Minghui returned with her son Qin Feng, arms laden with packages.

The moment they entered, Qin Feng wriggled free and dashed to Yaya’s crib. Finding her asleep, he perched quietly beside it, chin propped on the railing.

“This rascal refused school all morning, demanding to see Yaya,” Yue Minghui laughed. “I bargained for this evening visit—he’s chattered about her nonstop since pickup.”

She ruffled Qin Feng’s hair. “Well? Is Yaya cute?”

“So cute!” He nodded vigorously.

Yaya awoke with a yawn, blinking sleepily.

“She’s up!” Qin Feng reached eagerly into the crib.

“No!” Yue Minghui caught his wrist. “You’re too small to hold babies safely. Yaya’s fragile.”

His face fell. “When can I hold her?”

“At home, I’ll teach you with your doll first. Later, you can try sitting down to hold her—step by step, okay?”

“…Okay.”

Children’s moods shift like spring weather.

One moment dejected, the next he was beaming as Yaya giggled at him.

“Hi, Yaya! I’m Xiaofeng-gege!”

He wiggled her tiny hand gently.

Yaya blinked hard in response—I know!

Just as in her memories, Cousin Xiaofeng was an adorably soft-cheeked little boy.