At night.
Dong Family.
For a full ten minutes, Dong Xuebin was the only one in the living room, cursing nonstop. He cursed this one, then that one, until his voice went hoarse. He was furious.
"What kind of people are the Old Yang Family?"
"Gossiping behind our backs! Tell Yang Zhaojuan to say it to my face if she's got the guts!"
"I'll beat the hell out of her! She thinks she's so superior, does she?"
"What's wrong with being from the countryside? Go back a few generations—weren't your family country folk too?"
"She said my mom was a peasant? Fuck that! Your whole family are peasants!"
Seeing her son fly into a rage, Luan Xiaoping stopped crying. Before long, she could not help but chuckle. She sat beside him on the sofa and gently held his hand.
Dong Xuebin said irritably, "You're still laughing? What's so funny?"
Luan Xiaoping smiled warmly. "My son is still the best."
"Of course I am. Who else would be? I'm your biological son!" Dong Xuebin took a drink of water to wet his throat, then panted, "I think you and Old Yang should just forget it, Mom. I'm not angry at Uncle Yang. He's worried himself sick over my affairs, and I know he's a good man. He treats you well too, and I like him. But this whole thing pisses me off. His family looks down on us now, so why should we keep pressing our warm faces against their cold asses? To hell with them! We look down on them too! They really think they're somebody!"
"Are you done cursing?" Luan Xiaoping glanced at him.
Dong Xuebin snorted. "Not yet. I'm going to curse a while longer. This is pissing me off to death."
"Enough. Every family is like this.