Song Chenyu, hearing this, immediately darted forward, snatched the broom from Song Huailin’s hands, and positioned himself in front of Song Wanjing.
Seeing the floor littered with sunflower seed shells and watching the couple desperately defending Song Yanchuan, Wen Yifan immediately realized what had happened. She sneered coldly: “So, while I was away, with no tiger in the mountains, this monkey Song Yanchuan crowned himself king!”
If she didn’t deal with these two troublemakers—Song Yanchuan and the Widow Bai—life would never be peaceful!
“Whoa, why’s the house so lively?”
Just as the situation reached a stalemate, Song Yanchuan’s laughter drifted in from the doorway.
He was carrying a large bag of roasted snacks, with two suspicious flushes on his cheeks, and a look of delight on his face.
The moment he stepped inside and saw the tense atmosphere—the eldest brother, third brother, and youngest daughter all locked in standoff—his eyes flicked to Wen Yifan, who looked furious, and he immediately figured out what had happened.
He walked over to the dining table, slammed the bag of snacks down, picked up a peanut, and tossed it casually into his mouth.
“Huailin, you’re the eldest of the Song family, but you’ve got no authority at all. If outsiders saw this, wouldn’t they laugh at our family?”
Feigning a scolding, Song Yanchuan turned his fire on Song Chenyu and Song Wanjing.
“Third brother, normally you stay silent, but it turns out you’re just showing off when I’m not home, huh? Listen carefully: that brat will get married eventually. When she has a child, it won’t even carry the Song name. Helping her is useless!”
“As for you—”
He paused, his gaze landing on Wen Yifan. Spitting a thick glob of saliva onto the floor, he sneered coldly:
“Don’t think that just because you found some capable wild man outside, you’re powerful. As long as I don’t let go, you’ll never escape my grasp in this life!”
“Hmph…”
Wen Yifan, seeing his arrogance, stepped in front of him and spat straight at his face.
“Bah!”
“I was blinded by you back then, which made me fall for such a filthy creature! You think everyone’s like you—going around cheating on people?”
She gestured for Song Wanjing to come stand beside her.
Song Wanjing didn’t hesitate and quickly walked over, proudly lifting her chin. “Mom is out treating patients. She’s nothing like you!”
“Someone as shameless as you? Only that Widow Bai would even look at you!”
She swept the roasted snacks off the table onto the floor.
“I’m warning you—don’t bring filth into this house!”
Without caring that Song Yanchuan was stomping angrily behind her, she grabbed Song Wanjing and headed for the door.
“Wanjing, we’re not staying in the same room as this rotten man. Let’s go back to Mom’s room!”
Before leaving, she glared at the flustered Feng Zhuyi: “You and your husband better go back too, or you’ll end up having your ears polluted by their filthy words!”
“Alright!”
Seeing this, Song Chenyu hurriedly pulled his wife back inside as well.
Inside the room, Wen Yifan poured a cup of warm water and, while Song Wanjing wasn’t paying attention, secretly added two drops of Spirit Spring water before handing it to her.
“You were upset in the front yard just now. Drink this to calm down.”
Song Wanjing, feeling cherished, quickly took it and drank a few mouthfuls, giving Wen Yifan a sweet smile.
“Mom, the way you handled it just now… to use the trendy words, it was too cool! Too awesome!”
Wen Yifan, remembering hearing similar praise in her previous life, knew it was a compliment and smiled.
“You little girl, always full of newfangled words, but I like it! Young girls should live freely and happily, just like you!”
Sitting with Song Wanjing on the kang, she looked down at the girl’s hands, calloused far beyond her age, and a pang of sadness welled up in her heart.
“It’s Mom’s fault for letting you suffer all these years.”
“No, not at all!”
Song Wanjing quickly reassured her.
“I understand your intentions, Mom!”
The more obedient and thoughtful she acted, the more guilty Wen Yifan felt.
In her previous life, she had been blind, neglecting this well-behaved daughter and focusing all her attention on those useless sons.
This time, though she was trying her best to make amends, it still felt insufficient.
Moreover, given this family’s bizarre personalities, if she let her guard down even once, Wanjing would suffer again—a tricky problem.
The more she thought about it, the more determined she became to divorce.
“Wanjing, if Mom really divorces your father, you…”
“Mom, don’t worry. Whatever decision you make, I’ll fully support you.”
Those clear black eyes seemed to hold a pool of crystal-clear water.
Wen Yifan lowered her head, afraid to meet her gaze, fearing that the tears she’d held back for so long would finally fall.
After a long silence, she spoke: “Go back now. The most important thing is your college entrance exam.”
Seeing Wen Yifan’s unusual expression, Song Wanjing’s lips trembled slightly, but she swallowed her words, nodded, and turned to her small room.
Once she found an excuse to send Song Wanjing away, Wen Yifan began plotting.
This marriage—must end!
The next day, at the village entrance.
In small villages, the village committee is usually located at the entrance. A small building, separated by a few wooden doors, serves as a makeshift village office, housing both the Women’s Federation and the committee office.
Wen Yifan pushed the door open, coincidentally finding the women’s director and village chief sitting at the table eating.
The village chief was around sixty, with sparse gray hair, usually wearing a faded gray cap, which he had removed and placed on the table today.
Seeing Wen Yifan, he quickly put down his chopsticks, placed the cap back on his head, and frowned, scolding her:
“Wife of the Old Song family, why didn’t you greet us before coming? This isn’t our office hours!”
“I came at this time because it’s urgent, Village Chief. Please forgive me.”
Having lived in the village for so many years, Wen Yifan was fully aware of these committee members’ temperaments. During office hours, they were either “out on business” or “too busy to attend to anything”—so much so that calling them freeloaders wouldn’t be an exaggeration.
That’s why she took a bold approach, visiting during lunch.
“What’s so urgent that it can’t wait until we’re on duty? Really…”
Her sudden visit completely disrupted their meal. The village chief, displeased, set down his bowl and, without concern for anyone, lit a pipe.
“Fine, speak. What’s so urgent?”
“I want a divorce from Song Yanchuan!”
“What!”
As soon as Wen Yifan said this, the two of them exclaimed in unison. The women’s director also put down her chopsticks, looking at her in confusion.
“Wife of the Old Song family, do you know what you’re saying?”
“Wen Yifan,” Wen Yifan interjected to correct her.