Qiao Dehai was also playing the peacemaker on the side, chuckling as he tried to persuade her.
“Qingyan, look, Rongze has already backed down. Don’t keep harping on it. After all, blood is thicker than water—there’s no grudge between family that can’t be resolved.”
He paused, and when he saw that Qiao Qingyan wasn’t responding, he added, “A family has to support each other. Now that Rongze is in trouble, we can’t just stand by and do nothing.”
Blood thicker than water?
Hearing these flippant words, the crack in Qiao Qingyan’s chest began to burn faintly again.
She swept her gaze coldly across the people before her.
“Money? With all of you here, what doesn’t cost money—food, drink, housing, travel? That little allowance from Qiao Rongkang is barely enough to buy each of you a scrap of cloth for pants, or to afford meat in every stir-fry?”
“All these years, the rice, flour, and oil in this house were bought with my wages. The medical bills were paid out of my pocket too. The ledger is right there in the cabinet—anyone can flip through it. Count on your own fingers how much of my salary I’ve poured into this bottomless pit. And now you have the nerve to ask me where the money went?”
When her gaze landed on Qiao Anhua, her tone didn’t soften in the slightest.
She didn’t even spare him a second look, only speaking coldly.
“Serves you right. You showed off and treated people you had no business treating, and now someone’s dead—who’s there to blame? If you’ve got the guts to cause trouble, you’d better be ready to face the consequences. I won’t take the blame for you, and I won’t go begging anyone for favors. When things go south, you carry it yourself.”
With that, she turned and walked off.
“Stop right there!”
Qiao Rongkang lunged forward, arm outstretched to block her path.
“Qiao Qingyan! Do you even remember who you are? You’re the eldest in this family! Dad raised us with blood, sweat, and tears—it wasn’t easy. Is this how you act as the big sister? Your younger brother and sister-in-law are in trouble and you won’t help, instead you’re standing here throwing cold words around like you’re just watching the show?”
The eldest sister is like a mother?
In her last life, that was the very saying that had shackled her for a lifetime.
Like an old nursemaid, she’d cleaned up their messes, shouldered their disasters, and taken the blame for them.
And in the end, she’d had her heart cut out and her organs dug from her body!
At the thought, she nearly laughed out loud.
In this life, they still wanted her to play mother?
Fine then—let them taste what it’s like to have a wicked stepmother!
She stared straight at Qiao Rongkang, each word landing like a hammer.
“You want a big sister? Go find your precious Wanwan! She’s happy to wait on your whole family hand and foot—let her be the ‘good sister’! Next time you’ve got a headache or a fever, go cry to her!”
Qiao Rongkang was struck speechless.
He was stunned. The eldest sister who had always worked without complaint, who had never said a word of protest—how had she suddenly turned on them like this?
Qiao Anhua was grinding his teeth, cursing her a thousand times over in his heart. A sister like this—she should have gotten lost a long time ago!
Once he made it big, people would be lining up to suck up to him. Who needed Qiao Qingyan’s sour face?
Bai Wanwan, however, felt her heart drop. Panic seized her instantly.
Her mind raced through the years she’d spent in the Qiao household.
Ever since she’d entered the Qiao family, she’d relied on the fact that the men doted on her and did whatever she said.
But she knew full well that what truly held this family together was never the sweet words they whispered to her.
It was Qiao Qingyan’s tireless management and careful planning, day after day.
If Qiao Qingyan really washed her hands of them, what authority would she have left in the Qiao family?
These men said they cherished her.
But when it came to actually running a household, without a capable breadwinner who could earn money, the whole thing would have fallen apart long ago!
The more she thought about it, the more terrified she became. Her breathing grew shallow and quick.
Her eyes darted around, and she quickly squeezed forward, grabbing Qiao Qingyan’s arm, her voice instantly softening.
“Qingyan-jie… don’t be angry. Rongkang only said those things because he was frantic—he didn’t mean it. We all know how much you’ve poured into this family. Even if you don’t want to help this time, you’ll always be our dearest eldest sister. No one can ever change that!”
Just as she finished speaking, a crisp call came from outside the courtyard.
“Comrade Qiao Qingyan! Your letter!”
The postman pedaled his old black bicycle to a stop at the gate, pulling an envelope from his green canvas bag.
The bike squeaked to a halt, the front wheel tilting against the threshold.
The postman wiped the sweat from his forehead, held out the letter, and added casually, “Registered mail. Need a signature.”
Qiao Qingyan shook off Bai Wanwan’s hand and strode over to take the letter.
The handwriting on the envelope was unfamiliar, but the sender’s name made her heart jolt violently.
Without hesitation, she slid her thumb along the seal and tore it open.
She pulled out the letter and scanned its contents quickly.
It was a message relayed on behalf of her mother’s stepson—Qin Shuyan, the eldest son of the Qin family.
He was on a mission nearby and, at her mother’s request, would come personally to take her to Shanghai once his mission ended in seven days.
Seven days!
Seven days meant there was still time.
Time enough to finish what needed to be done. Time enough to clear out the people who needed clearing.
Qiao Qingyan’s fingers moved gently as she carefully folded the paper, tucked it back into the envelope, and placed it in the pocket over her chest, right against her heart.
Her gaze swept across the people in the courtyard, pausing for a moment on Bai Wanwan’s face, then flickering over Qiao Rongkang’s brow.
Seeing the fierce resolve in Qiao Qingyan’s eyes as she tucked away the letter, he finally understood—this time, she really was leaving. She wasn’t playing games.
In the past, she had also mentioned leaving, but she would always quietly come back to cook the day after a fight.
But this time was different.
“You want to go to Shanghai to find Mom?”
Qiao Rongkang furrowed his brow. In his last life, she hadn’t managed to leave. In this one, she was thinking of pulling that trick again?
Well, fine—if she left, it would be peaceful, and she’d stop butting heads with Sister Wanwan all day.
With that thought, he immediately put on the airs of the head of the household, his tone lofty: “If you want to leave, that’s fine, but you’ll have to hand over your job at the factory to Sister Wanwan.”
Sister Wanwan was frail, and that job at the silk spinning mill was sheltered from wind and rain—at least it was a stable meal ticket, better than scratching a living from the dirt.
If she lost that job, she’d have to go back to the countryside and survive on farming, and life would only get harder.
Those words reached Qiao Qingyan’s ears, but her face showed not a ripple.
“Fine.”
But then her tone took a sharp turn: “However, this isn’t something I can decide on my own. The factory has its rules—I need to go back and report to the shift leader and the factory director, and go through the handover process.”
Qiao Rongkang thought that sounded reasonable. “Fine, then go take care of it.”
He waved his hand as if shooing away a fly. “Go early, come back early. Don’t dawdle.”
In his view, this was just going through the motions. As long as she nodded, the matter was nine-tenths done.
Qiao Qingyan said no more. She turned and left, walking out the door without looking back.
The night wind hit her in the face, carrying a hint of chill that crept into her thin collar.
Outside, the darkness was thick as ink.
She walked all the way to the dormitory at her workplace. The moment she pushed open the door, she heard a call: “Yanyan! You’re finally back!”
The room was tiny—a bunk bed, a desk, and an old radio.
The window didn’t close properly, and wind slipped through the gaps, stirring the towel hanging on the wall.
Her roommate Li Shu rushed over in two or three quick steps, clutching a few White Rabbit candies in her hand, and pressed them straight into her palm.
“You’re finally back. I’ve been waiting for you for ages.”
“I heard… you’re planning to give up your job?”
Li Shu lowered her voice, leaning close to her ear.
“I have a cousin who’s been wanting to come to the city to find work. If you’re really thinking of replacing yourself, how about…”