After drinking the Spirit Spring water, her strength shot up by leaps and bounds.
“Little sister, be bold and walk forward, walk forward—don’t turn back~ ah…”
Shen Fuyao was brimming with excitement. With Zhou Lanxiang in her left hand and Wang Chaomei in her right, she hummed the theme song from the movie Red Sorghum she’d watched in her previous life. Stepping through the moonlight, she walked along the crisp, cold winter night of the 1970s, soon arriving at the neighboring Chen household.
By then, Chen Dajun had already drunk most of the liquor Wang Chaomei had given him.
Because he was poor, there wasn’t even a peanut to go with it.
He drank it straight.
Watching the liquor level in the bottle drop lower and lower, Chen Dajun smacked his lips and muttered to himself, “City liquor really is good—strong stuff. Smells a lot like Widow Wang.”
“Drinking makes me so hot. No, I’m going to find Widow Wang right now.”
Hearing that Chen Dajun was about to come out, Shen Fuyao, waiting outside the thatched hut, viciously kicked Wang Chaomei and then slipped into her space.
“Quack,” Wang Chaomei cried out in pain, her mind muddled.
“Huh? Is there a duck outside?” Chen Dajun put down his bowl, his face flushed and his steps unsteady, and went to open the door.
There was no duck outside—only the mother and daughter lying on the ground.
Chen Dajun wasn’t very bright to begin with, and with the alcohol in him, he didn’t bother questioning how Zhou Lanxiang and Wang Chaomei had fainted outside his door. He simply picked up Zhou Lanxiang and carried her into the thatched hut.
Only after Chen Dajun went inside did Shen Fuyao come out of her space. Looking at Wang Chaomei, she shook her head. “Tsk. Someone like you— even an old bachelor wouldn’t want you, yet you’re dreaming of getting into the song-and-dance troupe?”
“That’s even more wishful than a toad wanting to eat swan meat. Too bad it’s just empty dreaming.”
With her hands clasped behind her back, Shen Fuyao hummed a tune and strolled home. There she saw Wang Zhuo’er already dressed, clumsily trying to put a little padded jacket on his sister, Wang Caifeng.
Wang Caifeng yawned, pouted, and complained that she wanted to sleep.
“Be good. Grandma is missing—we have to go find her,” Wang Zhuo’er soothed his sister.
“I searched everywhere and didn’t see her. I’ll take you to Grandpa first,” Shen Fuyao said as she came in. She needed to bring Wang Daren and the militia platoon leader, Li Gangpao, along.
Catching someone in adultery— of course it’s more interesting when your own man does the catching.
“Did you take Grandma away?” Wang Zhuo’er looked up, his little face full of hatred. A pair of peach-blossom eyes just like Wang Chaoying’s glared viciously at Shen Fuyao.
It didn’t look like the gaze of a four-year-old at all—more like he wanted to tear Shen Fuyao apart alive.
Smack.
A crisp slap landed squarely on Wang Zhuo’er’s little face.
Shen Fuyao snorted softly, thinking: That little white-eyed wolf looks like he wants to kill me. No need to guess—he must have been reborn too.
Now this was getting interesting.
She had been hesitating over whether to deal with him in this lifetime—after all, he was only four years old and hadn’t started doing bad things yet. But since Wang Zhuo’er had been reborn and carried memories of his past life, there was no need to hold back anymore.
The slap was heavy. Wang Zhuo’er’s small body was sent sprawling to the ground. His face swelled up, and his head hit the floor, raising a big bump.
In the underworld, King Yama had shown Shen Fuyao another possible ending.
When the Wang family wanted her dead, it was Wang Caifeng who personally brought her a cup of poisoned coffee. Shen Fuyao had studied traditional Chinese medicine; she smelled the poison immediately and refused to drink it. Later, Wang Zhuo’er called in several burly men to hold her down and personally poured the poison into her mouth.
In her previous life, Shen Fuyao hadn’t been especially attentive to the two little brats, but she had never shortchanged them materially. She supported them all the way through elite schools, spending six figures on private tutors.
When they went to college, their monthly living expenses were in the five figures.
But how did these brother and sister repay her?