Zhuzi’s wife came in, seemingly having cried, with reddened eyes.

She was chatting with Qian’s mom outside, who knows what they talked about, they touched on a painful subject.

"Have a seat, sister-in-law." Qian’s tone toward her was obviously gentler compared to Zhuzi.

She could see that this sister-in-law was truly her fan.

She also noticed that this sister-in-law was at a breaking point in her life; if not utterly desperate, how could she show such a pleading look to a stranger? Sometimes unintended coldness might cause the hopeless to lose the last bit of hope for survival, while a small aid could help someone in distress regain hope.

"Qian, should I not be discussing these things with you? After all, you’re Zhuzi’s relative. I..." This was also the reason for her despair.

She really had no one to confide in, aware that Qian might not help her, yet unable to control her desire to share.

"For a doctor, there are no relatives; when you come here and sit across from me, you are my client. If you’re not comfortable calling me Qian, call me Meiwei, and treat this as an emotional counseling hotline without worrying about who I am, just talk if you have something."

"Well, honestly, I don’t know where to start..."

"You already have a child, right?"

"Yes, my daughter is Xiaoli, a shy child, different from other kids by nature." When mentioning her daughter, Zhuzi’s wife took out her wallet and showed it to Qian.

It was a very thin little girl, shyly looking at the camera.

"Allow me to ask bluntly, about her hand—"

Bringing up this topic, Zhuzi’s wife had red eyes, and tears were about to fall again.

"Her right hand was born with six fingers; the older she got, the shyer. Especially after going to kindergarten, other kids were curious why her hand was different. She cried and said she didn’t want to go to school. Such a young child hadn’t fully learned to speak, yet already felt inferior."

To other children, asking about Xiaoli’s fingers might not be discriminatory, perhaps just innocent curiosity, but everyone’s attention surely affected her psyche, leading to insecurities, making the child increasingly withdrawn.

"I heard from Zhuzi that when the child cried, you didn’t hold her?"

"I’ve been very worried about the child. I studied many foreign parenting books, which say, to encourage independence, don’t hold her. She already has six fingers; if she doesn’t become strong, what will happen later?"

"Is she three years old, by lunar age or real age?"

"Lunar age, we searched many kindergartens to find one private nursery willing to accept such young kids. Her dad’s dissatisfied with me, thinking I should quit my job to raise her."

"Between six months and two years, there’s an attachment phase where infants may show anxiety, needing more love, frequent cuddles to meet emotional needs, easing anxiety. Parenting books aren’t always correct."

"Ah!" Zhuzi’s wife was astonished.

"Forgive my directness, but why insist on working instead of offering more presence? Her situation requires professional psychological support as she’s in an emotional need phase and is aware of her differences, increasing her anxiety. Continuing this way could affect her personality as she grows."

After her rebirth, Qian studied child psychology to better care for her child, providing professional advice.

Upon hearing this, Zhuzi’s wife covered her face, tears flowing.

"I’m not ruthless; I want to save money for surgery. Her dad doesn’t want the surgery, saying that her grandfather and uncle also have six fingers and live well without it. I know it’s because she’s a girl; he doesn’t want to invest in her."

A mother can’t let go of her child.

Unlike other congenital issues, six fingers don’t affect self-care, but they haven’t considered the gaze of others as she grows.

Yes, Qian remembered her cousin, who excels at making wooden furniture, had six fingers, a curiosity from her childhood.

This curiosity mostly stems from finding differences intriguing, probably not malicious, but pervasive gazes can be devastating, leading to inferiority and depression.

"The surgery isn’t expensive; ideally done before elementary school." Qian supported the idea of surgery.

"That’s my thought; I bargained with her dad, saying if I work, I control the money. If he doesn’t care, I must. I earn little, but thrift provides enough; hoping to complete surgery before school."

"Then why think of a second child?" Though not therapy, Qian sought clarity.

"Due to work, we quarrel often, sometimes thinking another child might stabilize the relationship..."

"Foolish. Remember, never use children to salvage a relationship. If unresolved, adding complexity worsens issues. Suppose your marriage ends, one child lets you leave with your daughter. With two, you’d leave one behind. What if both are girls? Imagine, a daughter without a mother faces hardship."

Qian’s words were brutal but incisive.

The mindset of having a son to salvage marriage was flawed from the start.

Regardless of the gender, reducing oneself to a childbearing tool is futile, even if it’s a son.

A husband indifferent to caring, aiming only to brag about lineage.

And the mother?

Struggling to raise two children, aging prematurely, as men shirk familial duties, worsening societal pressure on women.

Love fades, replaced by lifelong toil.

If it’s another girl, endless judgment and ridicule await.

"What should I do now? I feel cornered... I see myself failing; when the baby was born and wouldn’t sleep at night, I was sleepless, contemplating ending it all with her, what’s the point in living? Nightly stifled emotions... work’s a relief, but the thought of a second child brings conflict, both yearning and fearing it."

Apparently, there’s postpartum depression... Qian sighed inwardly, truly adding insult to injury.