Zhao Guihua rolled on the ground, greasy all over, a few chicken bones stuck in her hair — utterly miserable.
“Murder! The soldier is killing people!”
“No justice! The son-in-law beat his mother-in-law!”
While wailing, she secretly glanced at Lu Zhan.
The man looked unfamiliar, but that four-pocket military uniform was genuine — an officer.
Then she noticed the big jeep at the gate and the two bottles of Moutai in his hand.
A snob like Zhao Guihua thought fast.
Had this wretched girl really climbed a high branch?
“Shut up.”
Lu Zhan looked at her with disgust and strode into the main room.
His military boots thudded heavily — each step landing on the family’s hearts.
He slammed the cigarettes and liquor onto the greasy Eight-Immortals table.
Bang!
The Moutai bottles clinked sharply. Su Lao-San trembled.
“Th-this is…”
A coward all his life under Zhao Guihua, Su Lao-San couldn’t even speak clearly facing such pressure.
“I am Su Man’s husband — Lu Zhan.”
He pulled a bench and sat down boldly.
He didn’t invite Su Man to sit — instead he pulled her to stand beside him, declaring ownership.
“We didn’t come to hear your wailing.”
“Two matters.”
He raised two fingers.
“First — acknowledgement of kinship.”
He pointed at the gifts.
“We brought the courtesy.”
“Second.”
His gaze sharpened. His hand moved to his waist.
PA!
A dark pistol slammed onto the table.
Cold metal gleamed — the muzzle aimed at Zhao Guihua who had just stood up.
Deathly silence.
Even the villagers outside held their breath.
A gun.
A real gun.
Zhao Guihua, about to make a scene for money, collapsed to her knees.
“L-Leader spare me! I didn’t mean it!”
Su Gang wet his pants; the smell spread in the room.
Lu Zhan didn’t even blink.
“The second matter — severing ties.”
Su Man took out a prepared document and slapped it on the table.
“Sign it.”
Her voice was icy.
“From today onward, I, Su Man, have no relation to the Su family.”
“In life or death — no involvement.”
“I won’t support you in old age, and you will never sell me again.”
Fear lost to greed.
Sever ties? Then their money tree would be gone.
“No! I won’t sign!”
“I’m your mother! I raised you — you can’t cut it off!”
“You married an official and abandon your family? Ungrateful wretch!”
“The bride price… wasn’t enough yet!”
She still dared mention money.
Su Man laughed coldly.
She threw yesterday’s remaining cash and ration coupons at Zhao Guihua’s face.
“Money?”
“Is this enough to buy off that so-called upbringing?”
“Don’t push your luck.”
“My man has a bad temper. The gun isn’t loaded… but if it misfires…”
She dragged the sentence deliberately.
Lu Zhan cooperated — resting his hand on the pistol, finger tapping the trigger guard.
Click.
The crisp metallic sound shattered Zhao Guihua’s last defense.
Money meant nothing if she died.
“I’ll sign! I’ll sign now!”
With Su Lao-San supporting her, she pressed her fingerprint onto the severance document.
Su Man looked at the red fingerprint — a heavy stone lifted from her heart.
Two lifetimes.
Finally free from this parasitic family.
“There’s one more thing.”
She put away the document and entered the inner room.
Her childhood room — dark, damp, piled with junk.
Following memory, she pried open a loose floorboard with a rusty shovel.
Below was a dirt pit.
She reached in and pulled out a dust-covered rosewood box.
Her birth mother’s only relic.
In her previous life Zhao Guihua found it and sold everything inside before she ever saw it.
This life — she reclaimed it.
She hugged the box and walked out.
“Let’s go.”
She didn’t want to stay a second longer.
Lu Zhan holstered the gun and stood.
He glanced coldly at the family collapsed on the ground.
“If you ever go to the compound to harass Su Man again…”
“I won’t be bringing gifts.”
“I’ll be bringing your funeral.”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and left.
The jeep roared away under villagers’ awed gazes.
Inside the car.
Su Man held the box tightly, fingers trembling.
“Open it,” Lu Zhan said while driving.
She nodded and opened the clasp.
Click.
Inside was red velvet lining.
On top — a pair of exquisite mutton-fat jade bracelets. Priceless in this era.
Beneath them — a yellowed black-and-white photo.
A young woman in a qipao holding a swaddled infant.
She resembled Su Man.
But the key was the background.
A grand traditional Chinese mansion — tall gate tower, vermilion doors, plaque with bold characters.
Blurry, but readable.
Lu Zhan glanced once —
His pupils shrank instantly.
SCREECH—!
The jeep slammed to a stop, leaving deep tracks.
Su Man nearly hit the windshield.
“What happened?”
He didn’t answer.
He stared at the plaque, breathing uneven.
The gate…
The structure…
Even the stone lions’ positions…
He knew it too well.
The old Lu family residence in the capital — where he grew up.
The plaque clearly read:
“Lu Residence.”
Why would Su Man’s mother stand there holding a baby?
Lu Zhan turned to her, eyes filled with shock.
“Su Man…”
His voice hoarse.
“Who… exactly is your mother?”