Lu Minggui’s eyes hardened: “Stealing? Eating an egg at home—how is that stealing?”
“The little chicks, weren’t they bought by me? And they’ve been fed by Manman all this time. How is that stealing?”
She raised her hand and tapped Erfen on the shoulder: “Hurry up and wash the bowls!”
Erfen dodged and muttered: “I’m not washing! That’s the servants’ work.”
“I’ll be the head lady of a wealthy family one day, with plenty of servants to take care of me!”
“And Song Manman will serve me too, heehee.”
Lu Minggui felt a surge of anger. Seeing this little girl already acting so high and mighty at such a young age only made her more furious.
“Shameless! Who taught you to speak like that?”
“We’re just plain villagers. Where did we learn such airs?”
Erfen argued boldly: “My mother said so. She said girls should be pampered.”
“City folk like delicate girls, and so do the landlords.”
“But not like you mud-slinging peasants!”
She flitted her fingers in a ridiculous, affected gesture, full of pretense.
Lu Minggui, livid, poked her forehead: “Shut your mouth!”
“Not even willing to touch your own chores! Dreaming all day!”
“Today, you will wash these bowls whether you like it or not!”
Erfen’s forehead turned bright red from the poke, and she immediately started wailing.
Song Dazhi came in, seeing his daughter covering her face and crying, while his mother stood beside her, face full of anger.
“Ouch! Mother’s awake?”
“What’s going on? Just waking up and already so angry?”
Almost immediately, Lu Minggui lifted her gaze and fixed him with a severe look. Song Dazhi felt a chill run down his spine.
What’s wrong with mother?
Why is she looking at me like that?
Too scary!
Could it be that she discovered he took her copper coins to buy meat?
Lu Minggui had already suppressed her anger but stared coldly for a moment before scolding:
“Your daughter won’t even wash a bowl! How did you raise such a child?”
“Do I need to wash it myself?”
Song Dazhi let out a sigh of relief—so it was about this.
He glared at his daughter: “Erfen, don’t you dare disobey Grandma. Wash it now!”
With their father speaking, Erfen grumbled but knelt down to wash the bowls alongside Manman.
But Lu Minggui wasn’t done with Song Dazhi.
“Cuihua said you went to buy meat? What could make you so happy to go buy meat?”
“Was it because I fainted and you were glad?”
Song Dazhi panicked and didn’t dare admit the truth:
“Mother, that’s not what I meant! I just saw you faint and felt weak, so I thought I’d buy some meat to help restore your strength.”
Lu Minggui knew he wouldn’t admit it, so she didn’t press the issue.
But she asked coldly: “Really? Then where’s the meat?”
She had already noticed he returned empty-handed. Her purse was missing thirty copper coins.
Thirty coins—that could buy a whole pound of pork.
In these times, while they could barely eat enough, meat was a luxury—only for festivals or when entertaining important guests.
Villagers usually bought half a pound or eight ounces of meat at a time—just enough to have some protein.
But Song Dazhi, while she was unconscious, had taken thirty coins to buy meat.
Thirty coins! That could buy seven or eight pounds of coarse rice!
And where had the meat gone?
She asked again: “The meat? Did it go into a dog’s belly?”
Song Dazhi was speechless. His wife, craving meat, had urged him to take the coins while Lu Minggui was unconscious.
Although they had some silver themselves, they were unwilling to spend it. Of course, the easiest target was their mother’s money.
So he boldly took thirty coins.
He had just bought a pound of meat when he ran into Cuihua’s father.
Her father never liked him, but seeing him with meat, he became friendly.
In no time, he was persuaded to return home with the meat, which Cuihua’s mother then cooked into braised pork.
He even sat down to eat with his father-in-law and brother-in-law, drinking a bit of rice wine.
On the way back, he felt nervous, unsure how to explain to Cuihua.
But then he realized the meat was already eaten by her father, so what was there to worry about?
He hadn’t considered that his mother would wake up so soon.
Now he stammered, unable to speak.
Lu Minggui, seeing this, guessed he hadn’t eaten the meat herself.
Having survived the famine years, she was obsessed with food—what went into her stomach belonged to her.
And for the eldest son who had wronged her before, she had no patience left.
Without thinking, she ran out the door, calling loudly:
“Everyone, come see! Look at the wretched woman I raised!”
“I’ve committed a huge sin! Raised a good son!”
“When I fainted, he didn’t fetch a doctor but stole my money to buy meat!”
“In a time when we can barely eat, he’s spending extravagantly, stealing money for meat!”
“If I don’t wake up, they might have a feast without me!”
“Old Song, why did you die so early? Take me with you!”
“How did I raise such a son? Better if I were dead!”
The more she shouted, the more agitated she became. She finally sat on the doorstep, slapping her thighs and wailing:
“Everyone, judge me! Which son treats his mother so badly?”
“Dahe is dead, and as the eldest, he didn’t shed a single tear!”
“How heartless is that?”
Lu Minggui had seen old women in the village act like this before, but this was her first time.
She didn’t feel wrong, only a sense of relief.
No wonder the older women would throw tantrums; it felt so satisfying!
Song Dazhi stood there, dumbfounded. He never expected his mother to suddenly act like a madwoman.
He was even more surprised—wasn’t his mother always quiet and proper? How could she behave like a shrew?
Lu Minggui’s temperament came from her father, a poor scholar who, despite being impoverished, kept his manners and taught her to be gentle and modest.
After marrying into the Song family, she managed the household quietly, never involving herself in outside affairs.
It wasn’t until her husband died that she was forced to take a firm stance.
When her son Song Dazhi married, she returned to her previous ways, letting him and his wife handle the household.
So this was the first time Song Dazhi had ever seen his mother act like this.
While he was frozen in shock, neighbors and villagers, hearing the commotion, began to gather at the gate, some with bowls in hand, others wiping their feet, all curious.
Most houses were simple clay structures with fenced yards, so any noise would quickly spread.