“Dad! Even if we have it, we can’t give it to her!”
Qiao Rongze abruptly grabbed his father, his fingers digging tightly into the old man’s arm, his face flushed crimson.
“We’re barely holding on with this money! If we give it to her, we’ll be eating wind for dinner? Once Second Brother gets better, he’ll earn it back!”
“That’s right!”
Qiao Rongwei also jumped out, shouting loudly, hands on his hips as he stood in the middle of the room, eyes bulging wide.
“Qiao Qingyan, you’re too short-sighted! When I make it big, forget this paltry sum—I’ll repay you tenfold, a hundredfold! By then, even if you beg on your knees, I might not give you a cent!”
“Fine, I’ll wait.”
Qiao Qingyan nodded, her tone calm, her gaze fixed directly on him.
“But I can’t say which year or month you’ll strike it rich. What I do know is that the money gets split now—not a single day’s delay.”
She just stood there, both feet planted firmly on the ground.
The group froze in place, neither advancing nor retreating.
Qiao Qingyan raised her voice, speaking each word deliberately: “Since when does the world work like this? Sweet words when you need me, kicked out the door when you don’t. Today, unless this money is divided fair and square, no one is walking out that door.”
Qiao Dehai’s face could no longer hold its composure. The veins at his temples throbbed. Finally, gritting his teeth, he pulled an old handkerchief bundle from his chest and unwrapped it layer by layer, revealing a stack of crumpled banknotes.
“Fine! I’ll split it with you!”
He growled in a low voice, beginning to count out the bills one by one.
“The rest of the amount—write me an IOU! Not a single cent less than what you owe me!”
Qiao Rongze and Qiao Rongwei hopped around in fury, muttering about how unfair it all was.
Just as Qiao Dehai finished counting the money and was about to hand it over along with the written IOU to Qiao Qingyan, Wu Xiufang—who had been sitting silently in the corner—suddenly stood up.
“Old Qiao, don’t be so hasty.”
She pulled Bai Wanwan forward, a smile plastered across her face.
The others were still murmuring among themselves, but she had already stepped to the front of the crowd.
“We’re all one family. If we’re splitting the money, shouldn’t Wanwan and I get a share too? It can’t be that only she takes a cut.”
Bai Wanwan chimed in quietly from the side.
She kept her head lowered, fingers twisting the hem of her clothes, her voice timid.
“That’s right, Dad. Since Sister Qingyan says we’re splitting it, and we’re part of the family now too, how could you play favorites…” She finished speaking, then secretly glanced up at Qiao Dehai’s expression before quickly lowering her head again.
From the moment Qiao Qingyan had mentioned splitting the money, they had been running through the scenario in their minds.
If Qiao Qingyan could get a share, why couldn’t they?
The money came from the old house, and they were already betrothed to the Qiao family, with the wedding date fast approaching. Since they were members of the Qiao household, claiming a share of the property was perfectly reasonable—no one could find fault with it.
Qiao Rongze, hearing this, immediately sensed an opportunity.
“That’s right! If we’re splitting, split it all—no one gets to hog everything!”
His heart was dancing with joy. The more people involved, the better. Seven people dividing one sum meant each person’s take naturally shrank.
If Qiao Qingyan had been hoping to grab the lion’s share before, now she’d have to settle for an equal cut per head.
To his surprise, Qiao Qingyan was the first to nod in agreement.
“Fine by me.”
“Since everyone says we’re one family, then we’d better make the division crystal clear. Once it’s split clean, no one has to dig up old grudges later, and we won’t have to scheme against each other day in and day out.”
Hearing this, Qiao Dehai was the one left stunned.
But Wu Xiufang and her two sons pressed him from all sides, one sentence after another, piling on the pressure.
Qiao Dehai’s head throbbed from the noise, his temples pulsing with a sharp ache.
He looked down at the stack of bills on the table, then up at the crowd before him. Finally, grinding his teeth, he simply divided the money evenly among seven heads, one share each.
Qiao Qingyan accepted her portion.
She didn’t rush to put it away. Instead, in front of everyone, she counted it slowly, bill by bill.
When she finished, she tucked it gently into her pocket.
“Alright, this whole mess is finally settled.”
“May you all go on to live smoothly and happily.”
With that, she turned and walked away.
The Qiao family stood rooted in place, watching Qiao Qingyan’s figure grow smaller and smaller until she disappeared into the depths of the alley.
“Oh my heavens!”
Wu Xiufang finally snapped back to her senses, clutching Bai Wanwan’s arm.
“Where are we supposed to live now? We don’t even have a house!”
Qiao Dehai’s head was still pounding from the commotion. He looked down at the meager money in his hand, then at the two people before him, and found himself utterly at a loss.
“We’ll have to make do for now,” he sighed. “Let’s rent a small place in town.”
Bai Wanwan quickly added, “Dad’s right. Getting settled is the most important thing right now. Besides, Rongze and Rongwei are both capable—they’ll lead us to better days. They’re young and sharp-witted. As long as they’re willing to work hard, things will improve step by step. We might be a bit cramped for now, but at least we’ll have a roof over our heads—that’s still better than sleeping on the streets.”
Hearing this, Qiao Rongze and Qiao Rongwei’s expressions finally softened a little.
Qiao Dehai took out his share of the money and rented a small, run-down courtyard at the edge of town.
The landlord was a widow in her fifties.
She said little, only reminding them to pay their own utilities before leaving.
The rent was cheap because the location was remote—nearly forty minutes of dirt road from the town center, and on rainy days the path turned into a muddy slog.
The courtyard was barely the size of a palm, and chunks of plaster were falling off the walls.
Two rooms squeezed in five people; turning over in bed required calling out “mind your space.”
The roof leaked, and on heavy rain nights, basins had to be set out to catch the drips.
One pane of the window was cracked, patched over with cardboard.
Qiao Rongwei slept on a makeshift bed by the door, saying he’d give up the room for his parents and older siblings.
Early the next morning, Qiao Rongze pocketed the money they’d pooled and headed out.
Dawn was just breaking, and the streets were nearly empty.
The town bus wasn’t running yet, so he walked, taking nearly an hour to reach the town center.
He went straight to the Xinhua Bookstore, buying every review material related to the college entrance exam.
He bought one of each, carrying back an armful.
The cashier, seeing how young he was, couldn’t help but glance twice as he paid for the stack of books.
He set the books on the rickety table, didn’t even stop for water, and buried his head in them.
The door creaked open.
Bai Wanwan walked in carrying a bowl of cooled boiled water, its rim slightly rough.
“Rongze, you’re sweating. Take a break and rest a bit.”
She stood beside him for a moment, noticing his scratch paper was densely covered with formulas and problem-solving steps.
“No need, Sister Wanwan, I’m not tired.”
Bai Wanwan set down the bowl, glanced at the thick stack of books on the table, and let out a soft sigh.
“Rongze, are you really planning to take the college entrance exam? I’ve heard it’s incredibly hard—maybe one college student in ten years. Last year, the whole county only had three admitted to undergraduate programs, and I heard they were repeat test-takers who’d studied for years. You’re going for it on your first try—that’s a lot of pressure.”
Qiao Rongze gripped his pen, the tip pausing on the paper, unmoving. The characters stopped mid-stroke, the ink slowly spreading into a blot.
He looked up. “Sister Wanwan, don’t worry. Others might not make it, but I definitely will. This is what I was born to do—there’s no escaping it.”
Bai Wanwan pressed her lips together, as if wanting to say something but swallowing it back.
“It’s not that I don’t believe you… but with the family the way it is now, you’d have to endure years of studying. We have to survive first. Today I heard someone say the cannery at the east end of town is hiring—a steady job! At least forty or fifty yuan a month to start, and if you work hard, even a hundred isn’t out of reach!”