After doing a good deed, Ye Weiliang hurried back to Master Liu’s place.
“Sorry, I ran into a robbery just now and helped catch the guy. I delayed a bit.”
Seeing everyone waiting, Ye Weiliang apologized shyly.
Li Xingxing looked her over anxiously.
“Liangliang, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. You know how strong I am,” Ye Weiliang shook her head.
“That’s good.”
Li Xingxing finally relaxed.
“Exactly, as long as you’re fine, little girl. Make sure to protect yourself.”
“I know. Thank you, aunts. I’m really sorry for taking up your time.”
“Oh, don’t worry, you did a good deed,” Aunt Liu waved dismissively.
Seeing the team leader’s wife say that, no one else commented.
Even at the team office, they could still benefit from this association.
That afternoon, Ye Weiliang had Li Xingxing ask the team leader to fix an earthen stove so they could cook for themselves. They had an iron pot, but no stove.
Ye Weiliang went up the mountain to gather firewood and take a look at the terrain, especially the cowshed’s location.
Standing on a small hillside, she observed the cowshed: six elderly people and four middle-aged men and women.
Hmm… their lives didn’t seem very easy.
At night, lying in bed with her eyes closed pretending to sleep, Ye Weiliang’s consciousness entered her space.
All the medicinal herbs were thriving there.
And that vast black soil—if she didn’t plant anything, it felt like wasting it.
The lush grasslands could support livestock; that wouldn’t be too much to ask.
But where would she get all this stuff?
Raising animals wasn’t too hard; she could try her luck in the mountains, looking for wild rabbits, pheasants, goats, and other small animals.
Seeds for crops were harder to get—she didn’t know if the black market had a source.
She also picked up some jade tablets on a redwood shelf, studying them for a long time. She remembered seeing something like this pasted on the forehead in a TV show.
She tried pasting one on her forehead, and the jade tablet immediately merged with her.
Ye Weiliang sensed it contained a martial arts technique, and she began practicing.
Before long, she had mastered it completely.
After Li Xingxing fell asleep, Ye Weiliang quietly slipped out—not to go to the bathroom, but to the cowshed to observe this body’s so-called family.
She had scouted the terrain that afternoon and walked a path that no one else would encounter.
Standing at the cowshed door, she listened to their conversation.
A woman’s voice came:
“I wonder how Wanwan is doing. She’s only fourteen, and we let her go to the countryside as an educated youth. Is that really okay?”
Ye Weiliang guessed this was the body’s mother.
“Wife, should we really let her suffer with us here?”
A man’s gentle, refined voice—likely the father—answered.
“Jingfang, don’t be sad. We’ve done our best to arrange her future. I believe she’ll live comfortably on the island,” said an elderly voice, probably the grandfather.
“I don’t know if the child will cry, if she’ll miss me. That girl didn’t even send me a letter,” the woman sobbed.
Her words left everyone silent.
“It’s fine she doesn’t write letters; we won’t be burdened. As long as she’s okay,” came the old man’s voice, tinged with sadness and helplessness.
Ye Weiliang snorted coldly at the door.
“Who’s there? Who’s outside?” the old man and the refined man shouted simultaneously, followed by the sound of the door opening.
Ye Weiliang had no intention of fleeing. She stood still at the door, watching the man who opened it.
How to describe him? His elegant, handsome face was full of shock, surprise, and even a hint of suspicion.
Though dressed in coarse cloth, he looked like a down-and-out young noble from old stories.
“You…”
“Are you sure you want to talk at the door?”
Ye Weiliang’s soft, sweet voice reached their ears.
“Come inside and talk,” the man said, letting her in. He glanced around quickly and closed the door.
In the dim light of an oil lamp, Ye Weiliang’s face was exposed to everyone.
They looked at her, then at a middle-aged woman.
The two resembled each other about 60–70%.
And the little girl and the refined man also shared 20–30% resemblance.
If the woman hadn’t grown haggard recently, and Ye Weiliang hadn’t become so slight, their likeness would have been about 80%.
“Why… do you look so much like me?” Song Jingfang couldn’t accept the truth.
Ye Weiliang smiled faintly.
“Why do you think I look like you?”
The similar features and soft voice made it undeniable: this child had a deep connection to their family.
“Investigate! Find out clearly,” the old man commanded coldly—this should be Ye Guoliang, the pillar of the Ye family.
“Hah, in your current state, where would you even investigate?”
Ye Weiliang wasn’t mocking—they were powerless here.
“Child, tell grandma, you are my granddaughter, right?”
The elderly woman, Zhao Yuan, held Ye Weiliang’s hand, her eyes full of joy and pleading.
Ye Weiliang looked at her.
“Do you know Liu Pandie?”
“Yes, she used to work as a nanny in my house,” Zhao Yuan nodded.
“And do you remember when she left?” Ye Weiliang asked.
“She was pregnant but kept working. When giving birth, your mother—my daughter-in-law—felt sorry for her and let her stay in a room. After discharge, she wanted to go back to care for her child. We arranged temporary work for her at the steel mill…” Zhao Yuan explained patiently.
By now, everything was clear.
Sure enough, Liu Pandie had switched the children while in the hospital.
Ye Weiliang recited her life as Ye Erya:
“My name is Ye Erya. My father is Ye Tangsheng, mother Liu Pandie. Elder sister Ye Ying, second brother Ye Jinbao. Since age two, I did all the laundry; at four, cleaning; at six, cooking. Cook rice too much, mother beat me. Stir-fry too salty, another beating. Recently, mother tried to pour hot water on my face. They wanted to sell me to an old widower—he had already killed two wives. They threatened to break my legs if I disobeyed. Later, I secretly signed up to go down to the countryside and reported her for kidnapping; she’s now in reform at a farm in the northwest. I also reported my father for trafficking women; he went to labor reform too.”
Ye Weiliang spoke Ye Erya’s life softly, emotionless.
“Wuwu… child, I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I didn’t know they switched you. How dare they?” Song Jingfang cried uncontrollably, trying to embrace Ye Weiliang.
Ye Weiliang stepped aside, avoiding her arms.
Song Jingfang cried even harder.
The elegant man’s face was full of anger—not at Ye Weiliang, but at the one who swapped the children: Ye Erya’s biological father, Ye Jianjun.
Ye Guoliang and Zhao Yuan were filled with pain, frustration, and anger.
Facing Ye Weiliang, Ye Jianjun’s eyes were full of guilt and sorrow.
“Why sad? Why heartbroken? Weren’t you most concerned about Ye Shiwang? When I was in the capital, I knew about your existence and your eldest son/brother there. I didn’t go find him; I came down directly—to see you, not for family reunion, but to mock you. Raising her for fourteen years, never doubting she wasn’t your own daughter? They say mother and daughter’s hearts are connected… So, you’re heart-to-heart with Ye Shiwang?”
Ye Weiliang paused, then continued:
“Just now, I heard you still worrying about Ye Shiwang. You worried so much, using all your contacts for her, thinking you were protecting her from hardship—how thoughtful you were!”