Wen Qiqi’s eyes reddened, and tears immediately streamed down her face.
“Aunt Wang, how can you lock us—a widow and her children—out in the rain? This house belongs to my mother. While she was seriously ill in the hospital, you seduced my father and moved in. I haven’t even settled that score with you yet!”
“And I’m a military wife. How can you treat me like this and still live with a clear conscience?!”
Wen Qiqi deliberately raised her voice. Seeing this, An An started crying too, wrapping her little arms around Wen Qiqi, looking pitiful beyond words.
Ping An glanced at Meiyu, then at Wen Qiqi, opened his mouth—and also burst into loud sobs.
Though there were no real tears, the noise was impressive.
The cries of the three quickly drew the attention of the neighbors, who all came out to watch.
“Aunt Wang, this isn’t right. The children are soaked from the rain—how can you not let them in?”
“Whatever’s going on between you adults, Qiqi is innocent, not to mention the two kids.”
“This house has belonged to the Wei family since Old Master Wei’s time. You’ve taken over someone else’s home and still act like this?”
Wang Meiyu’s face flushed red from Wen Qiqi’s accusations. She suddenly flung the door open and snapped, “This is our family matter! What’s it got to do with you?!”
The moment the door opened, Wen Qiqi said, “Thank you, aunts,” then pushed past Wang Meiyu and carried the two children inside.
“Wen Qiqi, get out here!” Wang Meiyu shouted, hurrying after her.
As soon as they entered the living room, the aroma of food hit them. On the table were braised pork ribs, spicy fried chicken, crucian carp soup, tomato scrambled eggs, and two cold dishes.
Wen Qiqi set the two little ones by the table and immediately served each of them a bowl of rice.
“Eat.”
She picked up her chopsticks and started putting food into their bowls.
“Wen Qiqi!”
Like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, Wang Meiyu shrieked and lunged at her.
Today was the day Wen Lingling, who studied at a nursing school, came home. These dishes were specially prepared for her own daughter—how could she let Wen Qiqi and these two little brats eat them?
Out of the corner of her eye, Wen Qiqi saw Wang Meiyu coming. A cold smile curved her lips.
Just as Wang Meiyu’s hand reached out to scratch her, Wen Qiqi suddenly stood up and slapped her hard.
Wang Meiyu fell to the ground. Wen Qiqi walked over leisurely and plopped herself down on top of her.
Wang Meiyu let out a shrill, marmot-like scream. The two children were startled.
Wen Qiqi turned to them and smiled gently. “Keep eating.”
Ping An nodded, picked up a spoon for his sister, and buried his head in his food.
They hadn’t had such delicious food in a long time.
“Mommy, eat,” An An said, climbing down from her chair and feeding Wen Qiqi a spoonful of rice.
“So tasty.” Wen Qiqi patted her head. “You two eat first. Mommy will eat later.”
An An nodded obediently and trotted back to continue eating.
“Wen Qiqi, what are you doing?!”
A furious shout rang out as Wen Jinkang rushed in, dressed in a Zhongshan suit.
At last seeing him, Wang Meiyu burst into tears. “Old Wen, save me!”
The scene before him made Wen Jinkang’s vision darken. His finger trembled as he pointed at Wen Qiqi. “Y-you unfilial daughter! Get up right now!”
“Get up? Sure.” Wen Qiqi held out her chubby hand. “Bring me the money.”
“Money?!” Wen Jinkang was livid. “Have you gone mad?! I raised you for nearly twenty years, and you still dare ask me for money?!”
Then he looked at Ping An and An An. “And you even brought these two things back? Do you have no shame?!”
“Shame?” Wen Qiqi chuckled. “You’re living in my mother’s house, sleeping with your mistress in the bed she bought—that’s your idea of dignity? But me, a legally married military wife, bringing my children home to eat—that’s shameless?”
Wen Jinkang’s face turned red. “You—!”
“Me? What about me?” Wen Qiqi sneered. “Listen well, Wen Jinkang. I’m taking my children to join my husband. If you know what’s good for you, hand over my mother’s dowry and the money she left me. Otherwise, you’ll regret it.”
“Join your husband?!” Wang Meiyu struggled and glared at her. “Wasn’t your husband dead?”
Wen Qiqi slapped her again. “Your husband is the one who’s dead! Your whole family is dead!”
Wang Meiyu screamed, clutching her face, almost fainting from crying.
“Wen Qiqi!” Wen Jinkang was about to cough up blood. “You think I’ll believe some lie you made up? Get out!”
He stepped forward to push her.
Wen Qiqi lifted her eyes coldly.
Wen Jinkang froze immediately.
At over two hundred pounds, Wen Qiqi carried an intimidating presence. Though Wen Jinkang looked decent enough, he was cowardly to the core—he didn’t dare step forward.
“I’m telling you, Wen Jinkang—my husband is alive and well. He’s even bought us train tickets to Longcheng. If you don’t hand over the money today, be ready to go to jail.”
Her smile was icy.
“After all, mistreating a military wife and her children isn’t something to take lightly.”
Wen Jinkang’s face shifted between red and pale. Wang Meiyu looked equally uncertain.
Wen Qiqi seemed like a completely different person today. Usually timid and submissive, never daring to speak up, and clueless about money—yet now she spoke with such confidence, as if someone were backing her.
Could it be… the news they heard was wrong?
Could Guan Xianzhi not be dead after all?
Seeing their expressions, Wen Qiqi pressed further. “Ping An, where are we going to find your father?”
Ping An puffed out his cheeks. “Jinzhou, 37th Division, 9th Brigade, 3rd Regiment—Guan Xianzhi!”
Wen Qiqi had taught him this on the way. The little boy was smart—he remembered it after just one try.
Wen Jinkang’s heart trembled.
Were they really going to join the army?
Wang Meiyu’s eyes darted before she forced a smile. “Oh my, it’s good news if your husband’s alive. Qiqi, let Auntie get up—I’ll go get the money for you.”
Wen Qiqi raised an eyebrow. “You know where he keeps it?”
Wang Meiyu: “I…”
Wen Qiqi sneered.
Her scumbag father valued money more than his life. There was no way Wang Meiyu knew where it was.
“Wen Jinkang, go get it. My mother’s dowry—and ten thousand yuan in cash.”
“Ten thousand?!” Wen Jinkang exploded. “Do you think we run a bank? Where would I get that kind of money?!”
Wen Qiqi adjusted herself comfortably on the sofa. The leather couch was quite nice—it even let out occasional “pleasant” squeaks.
“Jinkang, hurry!” Wang Meiyu cried, feeling like her organs were about to be crushed. “It’s a good thing the child is going to join her husband. As parents, we should at least show some support…”
Otherwise, she was going to be crushed to death!
Though unwilling, Wen Jinkang was pushed toward the inner room by Wang Meiyu’s crying and nagging. Before leaving, he turned back to glare at Wen Qiqi—his gaze as if he wanted to devour her whole.