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Despite the allegations, Shaoshang wouldn’t say she dotes on her brothers’ children too much. In her opinion, she dotes on them exactly the correct amount.
“Shaoshang, they’re already spoiled by the toys you build them,” says Wan Qiqi, lifting the latest secret box Shaoshang has designed. Shaoshang has given each child a secret box that is opened by a unique pattern of shifting the sides of the box and movable panels on the outside. This one is for all of the children, a challenge she has designed: the secret is that it opens not by shifting panels, but by spinning it, drawing out a metal piece she laid inside the wood that will fall seamlessly back into place and seal the box when the lid is replaced.
“It’s important that they learn to solve problems,” Shaoshang says, knowing that Wan Qiqi knows this is only half true and she is fooling no one.
Shaoshang does want to help her nieces and nephews learn to problem solve, but she also wants more opportunities to see them and speak to them.
There is a part of her that craves to be the good aunt to her nieces and nephews that Shaoshang had craved all through her childhood.
She knows that none of her brothers neglect their children. Yangyang has had none, and seems happy with her husband. Strictly speaking, there are no children in her family in need of aid the way Shaoshang had once been.
But it’s more about Shaoshang than the children.
Shaoshang isn’t ready to think about children of her own just yet, but she is very invested in the lives of her nieces and nephews. It heals that broken part of her to see the children in her family being treated the way children ought to be, loved and protected and educated.
Making toys to both entertain and educate her nieces and nephews is also a fun challenge for Shaoshang to come up with all kinds of creations: she has made toys that use geometry and leverage to both please the children with aesthetics while also teaching them about how the shape of a thing can change how you might use it. She has made toys, such as her secret boxes, that appear merely aesthetically pleasing until you realize they are also a puzzle. She has made such a practice of this that now all her nieces and nephews inspect the toys she gives them critically, looking for the trick.
Shaoshang loves it.
“The problem,” Wan Qiqi says, hands on her hips to project authority though the look on her face is fond and teasing, “is that you are teaching my children that they can expect regular gifts of toys. They like you best because you almost always bring them gifts, and the other relatives are starting to complain that my children always compare them to you.”
Shaoshang inspects her friend and sister-in-law’s face for genuine upset. After a moment’s inspection, she judges that Wan Qiqi is scolding her more out of duty than true feeling, and puts her own hands on her hips in return.
“It sounds to me like they should try making them toys, too.”
Wan Qiqi’s face breaks into a cheeky grin.
“I told my uncle the same thing, in almost the same words.”
“Which uncle?” Shaoshang demands, settling in for the gossip.
Wan Qiqi grins and obliges her with the full story.
*
That which is so easy to brush off during the day is sometimes a ghost that eats away at the soul by night. This is what Shaoshang finds happens with Wan Qiqi’s story of her resentful uncle, angry at being compared to Shaoshang who always gifted the children new, innovative toys.
She rolls over to face Zisheng.
“Are you still awake?” she whispers.
“Mmmph,” he grunts. She knows from experience that this means that he is awake enough to listen, but not necessarily enough that he wants to actively participate in conversation. Satisfied that she is not disturbing him, Shaoshang tells him about her conversation with Wan Qiqi.
“At the time, it was so easy to tell her that it was her uncle’s problem. And it didn’t seem to bother her. But...Zisheng, you know I don’t like making the exact same thing again and again. I make different things for all the children. What if they have more children, and I can’t make enough for them all? What if I make one toy that is obviously superior to the rest, and create jealousy between my nieces and nephews?”
“Then you can teach them to share,” Zisheng says without opening his eyes.
“But I don’t like sharing.”
Zisheng chuckles and pulls her close, his eyes still closed. “All the same, I’ve seen you with those children. You adore them, and they adore you. I think you underestimate the power of simple affection. They know you don’t hold any of them above another.”
Shaoshang wonders if this is true.
“Besides,” Zisheng continues, his eyes cracking open, “you yourself are conscious of how painful it is to be compared to your peers. As I see it, you do an excellent job of trying to ensure that every child feels included. If you ever created a toy for one child that the others envied, I have no doubt you would make efforts to make sure the end result was fair: whether by making the toy one every child can use when they visit us, or by making replicas for each household.”
“I don’t like making the same thing multiple times.”
“Yet look at all the secret boxes you’ve made.”
Shaoshang opens her mouth to say that’s different, only to close it again.
He’s right.
While there had not been overt jealousy, upon seeing the interest in the first secret box she had made, she had made enough variations that every niece or nephew in her life had their own.
“Thank you,” she says to her husband, cuddling closer in his arms.
“Good night,” says Zisheng pointedly, tightening his arms around her in response. His eyes are closed again. Shaoshang grins to herself as she closes her eyes and waits for sleep to arrive.