You Sanmei forced a wobbly smile, trembling as she reached for the bowl. “I can drink it myself… no need to feed me.”
Ge Zhaodi stared blankly at Yang Cuilian.
You Sanmei looked at the bitter medicinal soup; her mouth felt sour before she even took a sip. But she was doing this for all their tragic fates in her past life.
She gritted her teeth, tilted her head back, and gulped it all down in one go.
They were all flawed people—each only seeing the faults in one another.
Time and again, misunderstandings took root and grew.
And so others easily slipped through the cracks to exploit them.
The tragedy of her past life fell on every one of them, in some way or another.
But none of that mattered now. They were all alive again—and she saw everything clearly!
Her good-for-nothing husband Chen Jingsheng—foolish and idle as he was—never had a wicked heart.
True character shows most plainly in times of crisis.
He would lay down his life for his family—and that made him a man of true grit.
Her sisters-in-law had sharp, foul tongues, but when lives were on the line, they fought fiercely—choosing to die with honor rather than drag out a miserable existence.
Her mother-in-law was a proud, quiet woman who brooked no nonsense. She’d never liked Chen Jingsheng since he was small, and their bond had always been strained. Yet on her late husband’s dying wish, she’d raised him through every hardship, bearing grievance and toil without complaint. Even after he married a sickly wife like her, she’d never turned her away—she’d found doctors and bought medicine all the same.
She would drink this medicine!
She would nurture her body, and live a long, full life.
She would tear down every wall between them, bind them together as one—so no one would ever use or harm this family again. They would live in peace and harmony…
You Sanmei drained the bowl to the very last drop. She even tipped it upside down, then smacked her lips in surprise: “…It’s sweet?”
Ge Zhaodi planted her hands on her hips at once, looking triumphantly at Yang Cuilian through her nose. “See? Told you adding sugar would work!”
“Just like our three little rascals—none of them like bitter things.”
You Sanmei’s heart gave a jolt.
There were three children in the family: two boys and one girl.
Chen Haobei was the eldest son of the first branch; Chen Haonan and Chen Yuanyuan belonged to the second—one boy, one girl.
Haobei was seven; Haonan was a year younger, Yuanyuan two years younger still.
Chen Jingsheng’s two elder brothers were twins, just turning thirty, married around the same time.
In her past life, when disaster struck the Chen family, Haobei and Haonan had been at school; Yuanyuan had been taken out to play by a neighbor girl.
You Sanmei dared not imagine what would have happened when they came home… or how they would have carried on after that.
Yang Cuilian scoffed. “Fine, fine—you’re the generous one, all right?”
“If you’re so giving, then give all the sugar meant for your two boys to this sickly thing from now on!”
Ge Zhaodi’s eyebrows shot up. “Why should I? Mother said we’d take turns caring for her… so things like this should be shared too, shouldn’t they?”
That was how they always were—sniping at one another over nothing. But when push came to shove, they stood as one: flipping tables together, berating their husbands side by side.
The Chen household had been raised by a widowed mother. Chen Jingsheng was seven when their father passed away.
The two elder sisters-in-law had bickered and fought over splitting the house many times—but it never came to anything, as if their anger simply burned itself out.
Only after dying once and living again did You Sanmei truly see: deep down, they were kind, soft-hearted women.
For all their grievances, they feared what would happen if they split up—leaving their mother-in-law to care for their useless third brother: a ne’er-do-well and a sickly wife. She would have worked herself to death in a matter of years.
Their boys would lose their mother, and the grandchildren would lose the only grandmother they had left.
Yang Cuilian spoke even sharper. “Taking turns caring for her is one thing—but you were the one who suggested sugar! Whoever proposes a thing sees it through!”
You Sanmei snapped out of her thoughts at once. “Eldest sister-in-law, second sister-in-law—please don’t trouble yourselves. No need for sugar from now on.”
“I can drink it plain. It’s fine.”
She’d refused the medicine before only because Lin Mei had filled her ears with lies—and because she’d misunderstood what they’d said privately. It had never been about the taste.
Yang Cuilian frowned and studied her closely. “Why are you suddenly so agreeable? Usually you won’t even look us in the eye—ducking your head like we’d eat you alive!”
Ge Zhaodi nodded in agreement. “Right! And even if we did eat people, we wouldn’t pick someone like you—skin and bones, barely enough to fill a tooth gap!”
You Sanmei’s eyes crinkled into a smile. “All right then—starting today, I’ll eat well and take my medicine. Maybe one day I’ll plump up enough to fill that gap for you!”
“—!”
The two sharp-tongued women were struck silent.
Married to men of few words and a quiet, reserved mother-in-law, they’d never heard such gentle, playful banter before.
One stared at the ceiling, the other at the door—both looking thoroughly flustered.
Ge Zhaodi stammered. “Well I never… I didn’t think you had it in you to talk like that?”
A faint flush crept up Yang Cuilian’s tough face. She tossed her head and blustered: “You—you sickly thing—don’t think you can get around me with soft words! I won’t give you Haobei’s sugar just because you’re playing nice!”
“Go try to fill your second sister-in-law’s tooth gap instead!”
With that, she turned and hurried away.
Ge Zhaodi quickly picked up the empty bowl to follow—but paused at the doorway, poking her head back in. “…Eat that apple, you hear? I pried it straight out of Haonan’s greedy little hands!”
You Sanmei smiled and nodded. “I will. Later on.”
Quiet settled over the room. She glanced up at the perpetual calendar hanging on the wall, holding her gaze there for a long moment before shifting to the foot of the kang.
In the corner by the wall lay a rolled-up straw mat and bedding—her husband Chen Jingsheng’s place.
He hadn’t so much as touched her hand since their wedding night, when things had gone wrong.
And who could blame him? Even she was afraid of her own body—any exertion or strong emotion left her chest tight as a stone, gasping for air.
Consummating the marriage was out of the question. Even washing a bowl or sweeping the yard felt like climbing a mountain.
And then there was Chen Jingsheng…
You Sanmei bit her lip, and a faint warmth crept into her pale, cold cheeks.
She’d secretly nicknamed him “Chen the Black Dog” from the very first moment she’d seen him.
Dark skin, dark hair and brows—eyes black and bright, handsomer than she’d expected. Dressed in a long tunic and trousers, tall and lean, with a roguish glint in his eye—he’d reminded her instantly of a sturdy black mongrel.
But as the days warmed into early summer, he’d grown too hot to sleep fully clothed.
She’d watched him strip down to his undershorts, sprawling flat on the floor without a care in the world.
That was when she’d realized “Black Dog” had been hiding his strength all along.
His limbs were long and solid—muscle packed tight and even, not overly bulky but strong. Narrow waist, broad, straight shoulders… and other parts of him…
Impressively so.
Her mind wandered off on its own, drifting back to when her younger brothers had begged for puppies. Her father You Dewang had brought home two from a neighbor.
When they’d grown, he’d slurred one night after drinking: “Perfect—one male, one female. Let ’em breed. I’ll sell the pups and make a pretty penny.”
Her mother Wang Hong had scoffed. “We got ’em for free—why would anyone pay for them?”
You Dewang belched and leered. “What do you know, silly woman? They only gave ’em to me because we’re thick as thieves. That big yellow dog’s father was the undisputed king of dogs for ten villages round—you hear? The King!”
“Mark my words—ours’ll be next!”
“Those pups’ll be tough, bold, good as gold at guarding the house—and smart as a whip too.”
Wang Hong rolled her eyes. “King of dogs? He looks nothing but scrawny to me—skin and bones, no meat on him at all!”
You Dewang narrowed his eyes, grinning crudely. “That’s exactly what makes you silly—small mind, no vision. Look at him close—this isn’t just being thin. This is hard lean muscle. Not an ounce of fat wasted!”
“And look at that waist—tensed up like a spring? You see that?”
“Let me tell you—this kind of waist is the strongest there is. You wait—he’ll have her bred in no time, and we’ll have litter after litter, no trouble at all!”
…
You Sanmei snatched up a newspaper and fanned her face frantically, over and over until her chest heaved. But the heat would not fade.
Her gaze drifted to the apple set on the edge of the kang. Trembling, she reached for it and took a huge, crisp bite.
Crunch.
…No, no, no.
Her father had been right about that dog.
He’d run all day and night, eyes burning bright as embers—endless energy. And sure enough, he’d sired litter after litter, sold off again and again.
As for the mother dog… poor thing. By the time she was three or four, she was spent—her coat thinning, panting for breath even at rest.
You Sanmei’s breathing quickened, and she squeezed her eyes shut.
She could barely catch her breath doing nothing at all—what would happen if she… with him?
She eased herself back onto the kang, nibbling her apple as she thought: it couldn’t be put off forever, but now was certainly not the time.
She’d only just gotten a second chance at life. She wasn’t about to let Chen the Black Dog wear her out before it had even begun!