Staring at the good items in the system mall that seemed to be beckoning to her, Wen Yifan felt energy surge through her entire body. Her eyes swept across the mountain like searchlights.
Soon she found purslane and goosegrass, among other medicinal herbs. She didn’t rush to exchange them. While the sun was still high and bright, she wanted to gather as much as she could.
It got dark early in the mountains. After another hour or so, Wen Yifan hoisted her basket onto her back and started down.
To fill this basket today, she hadn’t even gone home for lunch, pushing through hunger until now.
On the way down, she entered the system interface. The mechanical voice immediately sounded in her mind:
“Would you like to use one-click selling?”
Wen Yifan had been worrying that selling the plants one by one would be troublesome. Hearing that, she agreed at once.
[Total exchange this time: 8 yuan. Points +10.]
Holding the nine yuan she had earned today, Wen Yifan felt delighted. Nine yuan a day—over thirty days, that would be 270 yuan a month, more than what her three useless sons handed over combined.
Life was really starting to look hopeful.
Once a person has money, even their back straightens.
Wen Yifan browsed through the system mall, buying quite a few things. Everything looked tempting.
Work cloth, enamel basins, thermos bottles…
Not only were the prices affordable, but most importantly, no ration coupons were needed. If she bought from the system mall and resold the goods, she could make quite a profit.
But speculation and profiteering were being cracked down on harshly these days. With the system in hand, she had plenty of ways to make money. She had no intention of getting shot over something like that.
Considering how divided and uncooperative her household currently was, Wen Yifan ultimately used her points only to unlock the purchase permissions for shampoo paste and toilet paper. She casually bought a few items, stuffed them into her basket, and headed home.
The moment she stepped through the door, Song Huailin came up to her with a grin, as if he wanted to say something.
Wen Yifan had been working in the mountains all day and wasn’t in the mood to give him even half a pleasant look. She brushed past him and walked inside. “If you’ve got something to say, say it. Why are you grinning like an idiot?”
The smile on Song Huailin’s face stiffened, but he forced himself to follow her.
Before she even reached the kitchen, she saw Feng Zhuyi cooking amid thick smoke. Her brows furrowed. She turned back to Song Huailin, her tone unfriendly.
“Where’s your wife? She got up late and skipped making breakfast this morning. Now she’s planning to skip dinner too?”
Hearing Wen Yifan’s voice, Feng Zhuyi timidly came over, took the basket off Wen Yifan’s back, and set it aside.
Her voice was barely louder than a mosquito’s buzz. “Mom, the kitchen’s smoky. Dinner will be ready soon. You can wait outside.”
Look at that. The daughter-in-law she married in was more filial than the son she had doted on since childhood.
From the doorway to the kitchen, Song Huailin hadn’t even offered to carry her basket, nor had he asked a single question about whether she was hungry or thirsty after being out all day.
Ungrateful wretch!
A surge of anger rose in Wen Yifan’s chest. She grabbed a broom from the side and began hitting Song Huailin.
“I’m talking to you! Are you deaf? You didn’t marry a wife—you brought home an ancestor to worship!”
“What, next Qingming Festival, do you expect me to kneel and kowtow to her too?”
“If your wife won’t work, can’t you? Don’t you have hands?”
Caught off guard, Song Huailin jumped from the blows, his face burning with humiliation.
He had never been beaten like this in his life—especially not in front of his younger sister-in-law.
Feeling utterly disgraced, he snapped irritably, “Mom, can you be reasonable? I had good news to tell you, that’s why I didn’t pay attention!”
Wen Yifan snorted coldly, tightening her grip on the broom. “Good news? What good news? Did someone in the Song family get into Jingbei University?”
Song Huailin was speechless. As if Jingbei University were that easy to get into.
He had no idea what had gotten into his mother lately—she was like she had swallowed gunpowder.
Afraid the broom would strike him again, he forced a cautious smile. “Mom, Shen Que is pregnant. Haven’t you always wanted to hold your eldest grandson? Isn’t that great news?”
Wen Yifan rolled her eyes to the sky. Her ungrateful eldest son really thought he could fool her.
In her previous life, the eldest couple had gone from hospital to hospital across the country for infertility treatment without success. It wasn’t until her eldest son used demolition compensation money to start a factory, earned a fortune, and went abroad for treatment that they finally succeeded.
And now he was claiming Shen Que was pregnant?
Wen Yifan grew even angrier. She gripped the broom and lashed at Song Huailin again. She had no evidence to expose Shen Que’s fake pregnancy, so she chose to act rather than argue.
The broom didn’t hurt that much per strike, but quantity leads to qualitative change. Song Huailin was beaten into a miserable state and tried to run.
Only then did Wen Yifan stop. She had spent the entire day in the mountains, gone hungry, and hadn’t even had a sip of water since returning. After just a few swings, she was tired.
Only then did Feng Zhuyi dare step forward, handing her a mug of water.
Wen Yifan drank it in large gulps. The more she looked at her third daughter-in-law, the more satisfied she felt. Though quiet—just like her third son, who couldn’t be coaxed into speaking even with a stick—she was thoughtful and filial. Far better than the eldest and second sons’ families.
After finishing the water, Wen Yifan shot Song Huailin a sidelong glance. “When I was pregnant with you, I still cooked and worked in the fields as usual.”
“What? Is your wife made of gold, too delicate even to cook?”
“Hmph! Is she really pregnant—or just using it as an excuse to avoid cooking and slack off?”
Three sharp remarks left Song Huailin unable to utter a single word. He clutched the sore spots where he’d been hit and looked at Wen Yifan.
There were even tears shimmering in his eyes. “Mom… you’ve changed…”
“Scram! If you want to cry, do it somewhere else. Don’t stand here blocking my sight!”
With that, Wen Yifan ignored him and went into the kitchen. She took out a jar of shampoo paste from her basket and stuffed it directly into Feng Zhuyi’s arms.
“You’ve worked hard lately. Take this. I bought it specially for you and Wanji.”
In this era, shortages were the norm. The Song family wasn’t poor, but she had been biased before…
Anything good had gone first to the eldest and second sons’ families. The third son’s family came last. As for her youngest daughter, Song Wanji, and third daughter-in-law Feng Zhuyi, they had been last of the last.
As a result, both their hair was dry and yellow from malnutrition, fragile and prone to falling out in clumps.
Thinking about how, in her previous life, her youngest daughter had to wear a wig in her early thirties to cover her thinning hair, Wen Yifan’s heart filled with guilt.
In this life, she absolutely would not allow those misfortunes to happen again.
Feng Zhuyi held the shampoo paste. Even before opening it, she could smell a faint fragrance—clearly something that had cost quite a bit.
She looked at it again and again, cherishing it dearly, yet still hesitated. “Mom, let little sister use it. I work in the fields. I don’t need something this good.”
Wen Yifan rolled her eyes and put on a stern face. “If I’m giving it to you, take it. Do you think I can’t afford one jar?”