This time, Li Weimian didn’t even care about the pain anymore. She grabbed Lu Shiman’s hand.
“What nonsense are you talking about?!”
Panic flashed across her face. How could her father be sent to the cowshed? The one who should be sent there was Lu Shiman, that poisonous remnant of capitalism—what did her father have to do with it?!
Lu Shiman raised an eyebrow. “When did I ever talk nonsense? I was just telling the truth.”
She smiled faintly. With just that one sentence, their relationship would be so easy to drive a wedge into.
Wasn’t Li Shichuan terrified of being sent to the cowshed? Hearing such words from his precious darling daughter—how badly must that hurt?
She wondered whether, over the next few days, Li Shichuan would still dote on his beloved daughter… or be so furious he’d want to beat her to death.
The thought made the smile on her lips deepen. Chaos—that was when things became truly interesting.
With the door open, Lu Shiman listened to Li Weimian’s frantic explanations, Li Shichuan’s furious shouting, and Xiang Hongmei’s soft attempts at mediation. She munched on a biscuit and sighed.
“If only I could play Those Bygone Years right now—this scene would be a perfect kill.”
Too bad she couldn’t. It was noisy enough as it was.
She dug a finger into her ear, then shut the door firmly. It took who knew how long before the downstairs finally quieted down.
The next morning, everything looked normal again—like a loving, harmonious family.
Lu Shiman raised an eyebrow, gaining a new appreciation for Xiang Hongmei and Li Weimian.
Seems their mouths really were impressive. Whether they’d talked him into it or slept their way through it was anyone’s guess.
But it didn’t matter. Once Li Laizi showed up, even sleeping their way out wouldn’t help.
Humming a tune, she went downstairs just as Wu Hongfei and Song Zhibai arrived together.
She led them straight into the reception room and closed the door, cutting off Li Weimian’s attempt to eavesdrop.
“We’ve found him,” Wu Hongfei said first. “Does the young miss want to meet him?”
“Why would I meet someone like that?” Lu Shiman scoffed. “Just seeing him would bring bad luck. Tell him Xiang Hongmei and her daughter have latched onto a rich man and have money now. That’s enough.”
Someone like Li Laizi would come running the moment he smelled money—no need to say more.
Wu Hongfei paused, then nodded. The young miss really did see things clearly.
He’d done a bit of digging himself—Li Laizi was lazy, addicted to gambling, always stealing and loafing around. If not for Xiang Hongmei and his aging mother barely holding the household together, he’d have died on the streets long ago.
Now that Xiang Hongmei had divorced him and his mother was too old to clean up after him, his nature hadn’t changed one bit. If he didn’t cling to Xiang Hongmei now, he’d be a fool.
“Let them fight it out among themselves,” Lu Shiman added. “You just need to guide things a little.”
She placed a ten-yuan bill on the table. “This will trouble you.”
Then she glanced at Song Zhibai. With just that look, he immediately placed the prepared agreement in front of her.
Lu Shiman read through it and nodded in satisfaction.
Song Zhibai’s sincerity was undeniable. Not only did he specify no emotional involvement, he was even willing to hand over two-thirds of his salary for her daily expenses. Household chores—everything—was clearly written out.
In short: she only needed to use marriage as a way to leave. Everything else—food, clothing, daily life, even leisure—Song Zhibai would take care of, as long as it was within his ability.
All for repaying a debt of gratitude—staking his entire future on it. One could only wonder how heavy that debt truly was.
“You’ve really thought this through?” Lu Shiman asked again.
Song Zhibai nodded. “I have.”
Wu Hongfei sighed helplessly. He felt Song Zhibai didn’t need to sacrifice himself so completely, but the Lu family really had saved their lives.
If their roles were reversed, maybe he would’ve done the same.
He only hoped that after marriage, the young miss might rein in her temper a little.
Lu Shiman picked up the pen and signed both agreements, pressing her fingerprint down without hesitation.
Since Song Zhibai had no regrets, why should she?
“Happy cooperation,” she said, smiling faintly at him.
Song Zhibai signed as well, then looked at her apologetically. “I’ve wronged you, young miss.”
From a pampered heiress to marrying a powerless, penniless soldier—of course it was a grievance.
Lu Shiman couldn’t help sighing at just how kind the Lu family must have been to him. She was about to be sent down for reeducation, yet he still thought she was the one being wronged.
One thing she knew for sure: marrying Song Zhibai—fake or not—wouldn’t make her suffer even a bit.
“Not wronged at all. Take this money first—consider it my dowry.”
She pulled three thousand yuan from her bag and placed it in front of him.
She planned to leave cleanly later, but thinking about all the money in her space that couldn’t be spent made her miserable. Better to bring some out while she still could.
Song Zhibai frowned. “Even as dowry, that’s still yours—”
Lu Shiman shot him a glare. “What, we’re not even married yet and you already want to control me?”
Hands on her hips, she added, “Shh. Just take it.”
Wu Hongfei nearly blacked out.
Looks like getting the young miss to rein in her temper was impossible. Song Zhibai really had a hard fate.
“Understood, young miss,” Song Zhibai said calmly, nodding.
Whatever the young miss said, he’d follow. She wouldn’t harm him.
“That’s better. And you, Wu Hongfei—are you looking down on me?”
She glanced at the ten-yuan bill still lying on the table.
These people were strange—refusing money even when it was offered. Did they all see money as dirt?
If someone gave her money, she’d pocket it instantly, no hesitation at all.
Wu Hongfei and Song Zhibai exchanged a look and quickly put the money away. If they hesitated any longer, the young miss would definitely explode.
“That’s more like it.”
“Song Zhibai, clean up your place properly these next couple of days. I’ll be moving in soon.”
She looked at him seriously.
She’d seen her cousin’s bachelor apartment—an absolute disaster, basically a landfill.
If Song Zhibai’s place was the same, she’d rather jump on a train and flee overnight than fake a marriage for even a second.
Thinking of the red marks he’d once seen, Song Zhibai replied, “I’ll clean it thoroughly.”
Maybe not spotless—but it would definitely be comfortable for her.
“Good. If you don’t, I’m gone immediately.”
“Alright, we’re done here. You can leave.”
Lu Shiman waved them off.
The real show was about to begin. She needed to deal with Li Shichuan’s hidden stash first—to give him a little surprise.
And when the time came, she’d pin everything on Xiang Hongmei and her daughter.
The third “world war” in that household was just about to start.