“Mom, how are you? Wake up, please don’t scare me.”
By her ear, a familiar yet somewhat unfamiliar voice sounded. Wen Yifan struggled to open her eyes and met the young, worried face of her youngest daughter, Song Wanji. She felt dazed.
Wasn’t she already dead?
She had died of a myocardial infarction caused by overwork. Before dying, the three sons she had painstakingly raised all chose to give up treatment, only arguing over the inheritance. Even her funeral had been handled by the daughter she had always disliked.
“Mom, you’re finally awake!”
Seeing Wen Yifan wake up, Song Wanji let out a long sigh of relief.
“Since you’re awake, get up already. Stop lying there playing dead and go apologize to me and Widow Bai!”
Her husband Song Yanchuan’s voice followed, full of disgust.
“Dad, Mom just woke up. Let her rest first.”
“Let her rest? What right does she have to rest? She suddenly went crazy and ran to Widow Bai’s house, pointed at her and cursed, even hit her, forcing that poor widow and child to hang themselves. Now she faints and leaves a mess for me to clean up, is that it?”
Listening to the quarrel between father and daughter, Wen Yifan realized—she had been reborn.
Reborn fifty years back to the 1960s, to the time she heard her husband Song Yanchuan was having an affair with Widow Bai. She had rushed over to confront her, only to be knocked unconscious by the widow’s child and falsely accused of driving the widow to suicide.
“Everyone shut up!”
Wen Yifan sat up from the bed and shouted angrily.
Thinking of her previous life—she had worked hard for her husband and sons all her life, only to end up like that!
Now that she had another chance, she would never again care about this bunch of ungrateful wolves.
She would live only for herself.
Whoever dared provoke her, she would never let them off!
“You still dare yell? Looks like you need a beating!”
Song Yanchuan raised his hand to slap her.
Wen Yifan was prepared. She dodged, grabbed the bowl from the bedside table, and smashed it at him.
With a crisp bang, the porcelain shattered. Song Yanchuan’s head split and bled. He swayed twice, collapsed to the ground in disbelief, and fainted.
Wen Yifan lifted her foot and kicked him hard.
This old bastard—drinking, gambling, womanizing, beating her whenever he got drunk. In her past life she had still obeyed him and stayed devoted. She must have been out of her mind!
He really was having an affair with Widow Bai!
In her previous life, when their house was demolished, he stole the compensation money and tried to elope with her. If not for the Women’s Federation, she and the children would have been homeless.
Thinking of that, Wen Yifan stepped on his crotch and ground down hard.
Since he couldn’t control his lower body, she might as well cripple it!
Song Yanchuan screamed in agony. When he opened his eyes and met Wen Yifan’s murderous glare, the piercing pain terrified him into shrieking, “Help! Song Wanji, what are you standing there for? Can’t you see your mom’s gone crazy? Are you going to watch her kill me? Pull her away!”
Song Wanji snapped out of it and hurried to pull Wen Yifan. “Mom, calm down. Let’s talk this out. If this continues, Dad really won’t make it.”
The screams drew the second and third daughters-in-law from the other rooms.
Seeing the scene, they were stunned, unable to believe their eyes.
They had never seen their mother-in-law hit anyone—let alone father-in-law!
All along she had been hardworking, gentle, and submissive—the one getting beaten!
After recovering, they hurried forward to help pull Wen Yifan away.
By the time they finally separated them, Song Yanchuan had fainted again from pain. Urine had spread under him, and a foul smell filled the room—pitiful to behold.
“Mom… are you okay?”
The second daughter-in-law Zhou Zhiyun cautiously asked, watching Wen Yifan’s expression.
Wen Yifan looked at Zhou Zhiyun coldly. In her previous life, while she lay in the ICU—though unconscious, her mind had been clear—she remembered how cold and heartless Zhou Zhiyun had been, caring only about the inheritance.
Then she looked at the third daughter-in-law Feng Zhuyi and felt momentarily dazed.
In her previous life, because Feng Zhuyi could not bear a son, Wen Yifan had forced her to divorce her third son Song Chenyi. Not long after, unable to bear the gossip, Feng Zhuyi drank pesticide and killed herself.
After her death, the already taciturn Song Chenyi became even more silent, never remarried despite Wen Yifan’s pressure, and always looked at her with resentment.
Wen Yifan wondered—if she hadn’t forced the divorce and Feng Zhuyi hadn’t died, would things have turned out differently?
“Mom, what’s wrong?”
Feng Zhuyi, unnerved by the stare, stepped back. “Are you feeling unwell somewhere? Should we call a doctor?”
“I’m fine.”
Wen Yifan withdrew her gaze. “Stop crowding here. Go do what you need to do.”
“Should we call a doctor for Dad?”
Song Wanji glanced at Song Yanchuan lying unconscious on the floor.
“Why waste the money? He won’t die,” Wen Yifan sneered.
Since marrying him, she had been beaten countless times—when had he ever called a doctor for her?
“Then I’ll go cook.”
Song Wanji turned to leave.
“No need. Your college entrance exam is coming up. Go back to your room and study.”
Wen Yifan’s voice carried a trace of complexity and guilt.
Song Wanji had good grades. In her previous life she had passed the exam but couldn’t attend due to lack of money, and was forced by Wen Yifan to marry a cripple for four hundred yuan.
After that, Song Wanji never returned home. At the time Wen Yifan didn’t care—after all, daughters were worthless to her; she had sons.
Yet in the end, only this sold-off daughter buried her.
Song Wanji froze, almost unable to believe her ears.
The family was poor and favored sons over daughters. She had fought desperately just to finish high school. As for university, she never dared hope—but now Wen Yifan told her to study well! Had her mother changed her mind? Did she finally have hope?
“Okay, Mom. Don’t worry, I’ll study hard and get into college.”
Song Wanji nodded firmly.
“Zhiyun, you go cook,” Wen Yifan ordered.
Since marrying in, Zhou Zhiyun had never done housework, just like her lazy second son Song Kuo. Now her good days were over!
“Me?”
Zhou Zhiyun was stunned.
“What, got a problem?”
Wen Yifan raised an eyebrow, glancing at the broom nearby. If Zhou Zhiyun dared say “no,” she would definitely grab it and beat her!
Zhou Zhiyun clearly understood. Remembering Wen Yifan’s ferocity earlier, she felt a chill and didn’t dare provoke her, so she reluctantly headed to the kitchen.