Yuanxiang and Erguo saw Zhuangshi snatch Sanxi’s sugar. Laden with their purchases, they hurried over to help her.
At that moment, Jiang Cuie grabbed Yuanxiang’s arm and laughed: “Children will be children—they’re just playing around. We adults shouldn’t interfere.”
Yuanxiang had no time for her. She shook off the woman’s grip, set down her things, and rushed over as Erguo ran ahead.
Just as Zhuangshi brought the sugar stick to his mouth, a sudden push sent him stumbling backward—he landed hard on his back with a thud.
Standing before him was Sanxi, her cheeks flushed red, her mouth set in a firm pout, her small fists still clenched tightly. Her eyes blazed with anger and resentment, but when she saw Zhuangshi’s face and hands covered in dust and dirt, a flicker of guilt crossed her features.
Spotting the sugar stick still clutched in his hand, she quickly crouched down and snatched it back, checking carefully to make sure it hadn’t touched the ground.
Zhuangshi stared in disbelief, his eyes wide as saucers. He’d always been the one to bully Sanxi—never in his wildest dreams had he imagined she’d push him! When he finally registered what had happened, he began rolling around on the ground, kicking and screaming:
“Mother! Mother! Come quick—Sanxi pushed me!”
Jiang Cuie’s expression shifted instantly from amusement to concern. Rushing over, she cried out: “Oh my boy! Are you hurt? Did you hit anything?”
She hauled her precious son to his feet and brushed frantically at his clothes—though they remained just as dirty as before. Turning her wrath on Sanxi, she snapped:
“Sanxi! What’s wrong with you? How dare you push Zhuangshi?”
With his mother backing him up, Zhuangshi wailed even louder: “Mother! She pushed me hard—really hard!”
Sanxi was still a little afraid of her aunt and felt guilty about pushing Zhuangshi. She hung her head, unsure what to do.
Jiang Cuie’s anger flared at the sight of her silence. “Don’t cry, Zhuangshi—mother will make this right for you.” She raised her hand as if to strike Sanxi.
Erguo reached them just in time and shielded his sister behind him, his voice sharp: “Aunt Jiang, Zhuangshi was the one who snatched Sanxi’s things first!”
Jiang Cuie paid no heed—all she cared about was that her son had been pushed and was crying. If she didn’t get even, where would her family’s dignity be? Would everyone think they could push Zhuangshi around?
She raised her hand to strike both children—they were orphans, so what would anyone do if she disciplined them?
Yuanxiang pulled the siblings back, keeping them out of Jiang Cuie’s reach. The blow landed empty.
Glaring at the niece who had once been so meek, Jiang Cuie rolled up her sleeves and snarled: “Yuanxiang, children need discipline. Since these two have no parents to teach them right from wrong, as their elder aunt, I’ll teach them a lesson today.”
At the mention of their parents, Sanxi’s eyes welled with tears. Erguo stiffened, turning his face away without a word.
Yuanxiang thought bitterly that her aunt was truly cruel to bring up such a painful topic. Smiling calmly at Jiang Cuie, she said: “Aunt Jiang, children will be children—they’re just playing around. We adults shouldn’t interfere. Isn’t that what you just told me?”
“Besides, would Sanxi have pushed him if he hadn’t snatched her things first? Lucky for him it was Sanxi—she’s willing to let it go. But what if he’d tried that with someone else in the village? As the saying goes, ‘The child is father to the man’—if he grows up snatching things from people, he’ll end up in trouble with the authorities.”
Yuanxiang fixed Zhuangshi with a sharp gaze, emphasizing the words “in trouble with the authorities.” Her tone was calm and matter-of-fact, making her words sound all the more serious.
Zhuangshi had never feared Yuanxiang before, but now her stern stare made him forget to cry. He was genuinely frightened, his sobs turning to hiccups: “Mother! I don’t want to be caught! I don’t want to be locked up! Wuwuwu…”
Jiang Cuie ground her teeth in fury. “You! You’re cursing my son?” She wondered when this quiet girl had become so sharp-tongued.
Yuanxiang spread her hands innocently, blinking her eyes: “There’s another saying—‘Spoiling a child is like killing them’. But if you insist on twisting my words, there’s nothing I can do.”
The onlookers had listened to everything. When Yuanxiang spoke of him snatching from others, they couldn’t help thinking of their own experiences—during their flight from the flood, they’d encountered bullies who took their belongings. They’d endured it to stay alive, telling themselves that material things were unimportant, but now that they’d settled down, no one wanted such behavior in their village. It had to be stopped before it got worse.
Song Shanquan, the eldest among them and a man whose words carried weight, spoke up: “Yuanxiang is right. Zhuangshi’s mother, snatching things from others is wrong. You must teach your child properly—indulging him now will only lead to trouble later, hurting both him and others. We can’t let this kind of behavior spread.”
Others quickly chimed in: “Yes, yes—Zhuangshi is too mischievous. It’s not too late to teach him now.” “That’s right—he was the one who started it by bumping into her…”
Everyone already felt sorry for Yuanxiang after the split, so they were more than happy to see Jiang Cuie get her comeuppance.
Seeing the crowd take Yuanxiang’s side, Jiang Cuie’s face burned with shame. She was being lectured by a younger generation, and there was nothing she could do about it. “You… you…” she sputtered.
As Jiang Cuie stepped closer, her expression fierce and her right hand clenched as if ready to strike, Yuanxiang calculated her options. If Jiang Cuie hit her, her slender frame would stand little chance—but striking back in front of everyone was impossible. Despite the split, Jiang Cuie was still her elder by marriage, and in this era, younger generations striking their elders violated all rules of propriety. Besides, fighting would be completely out of character for the original Yuanxiang.
Lowering her head and trembling her voice, Yuanxiang said: “I’m alone, trying to raise my brother and sister. If my parents were still alive, we wouldn’t be treated like this.”
Her thin shoulders shook slightly, and thinking of her tragic circumstances—a young orphan caring for two small children—she looked truly pitiful.
People immediately stepped forward to comfort her, while others shot angry glares at Jiang Cuie.
Jiang Cuie stared in confusion—what had she done? She’d wanted to hit Yuanxiang, yes, but she hadn’t actually done it! Realizing she’d gain nothing by continuing the argument, she shot Yuanxiang a venomous look, thinking You’ll pay for this later, then dragged her son home.
The crowd dispersed after comforting Yuanxiang, and all was quiet again.
Sanxi still clutched the malt sugar stick, her head bowed in wonder. She couldn’t believe her sister had stood up to their aunt—and actually won! She’d expected Yuanxiang to scold her for being disobedient and make her apologize to Zhuangshi, especially since she’d pushed him.
A-Jie really has changed…
Erguo was equally surprised, but filled with joy.
“Let’s go home,” Yuanxiang said, her face now free of any trace of sadness. She picked up the clay basin and called to her siblings.
“Okay!” Sanxi brightened instantly, hurrying to keep up. Having her sugar back made her so happy that she’d abandoned all plans to save it for later—what if someone else tried to take it?
She took an extra-careful bite, only to find the sugar sticking to her mouth. She smacked her lips, savoring the sweet, earthy flavor that filled her mouth.
“Brother—take a bite,” she said, holding the stick to Erguo’s lips, then offered it to Yuanxiang.
Yuanxiang took a small bite as the faint, sweet aroma wafted up. The sticky syrup coated her teeth, and the sweetness seeped into her heart.
Eating something sweet really did lift the spirits—suddenly, the troubles caused by her terrible relatives seemed insignificant.
“Save the rest for that brother in our hut,” Sanxi said, bouncing happily as she walked.
Yuanxiang explained that with his injuries, he shouldn’t eat sugar. To her surprise, Sanxi only grew happier—she licked up every last bit of syrup from the stick in one go.
Jiang Cuie stormed home with Zhuangshi. Her eldest daughter Arong was tending the fire to cook rice, while Song Lianggui lounged on the bed frame.
“Are you trying to starve us? Putting so much rice in the pot—we’ll have nothing left to eat soon!” Jiang Cuie peered into the pot. The brown rice mixed with bran was the same amount as always, but lately she’d felt their grain supply was disappearing far too quickly—they still had no land of their own to farm.
Arong was stunned by the sudden scolding but remained silent as usual, her face expressionless.
Looking at her quiet daughter—who had always been so timid—and the unsightly red scar on her cheek, Jiang Cuie’s anger flared even more.
Song Lianggui glanced at his wife’s sour expression and asked: “What’s wrong? Who upset you this time?”
“Who else but that little vixen Yuanxiang!” Jiang Cuie pointed at Zhuangshi. “Look at him—covered in dirt! Sanxi pushed him on purpose, and Yuanxiang had the nerve to turn it around and say I don’t teach my children properly. How can I not be angry?”
Song Lianggui knew his son well—Sanxi wouldn’t have pushed him without reason. This was just women’s squabbling, so he didn’t press further.
Seeing her husband show little reaction, Jiang Cuie leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper: “Guess what I saw Yuanxiang doing today?”
“What?” Song Lianggui asked without much interest—since Yuanxiang had moved out, she was no longer his concern.
“I saw her buying loads of things from the peddler! When she paid, she pulled out a whole handful of copper coins—must have been over two hundred wen!”
She detailed everything Yuanxiang had bought, how much each item cost, and how the peddler had waived the small change, with Yuanxiang paying over two hundred wen in one go.
“That much money?” Song Lianggui sat up straight—her detailed account sounded genuine, and he was suddenly intrigued.
“Of course it’s true—everyone saw it!”
Song Lianggui fell silent, deep in thought, while Jiang Cuie ranted on: “Who would have thought Yuanxiang was so sneaky? All that quietness was just an act!”
She paused, recalling how Yuanxiang had spoken so confidently that she’d been left speechless. “And remember—if we hadn’t brought them here to Xu Village, they’d have died back home! Instead, she’s been hiding things from us—she had money all along!”
Yuanxiang had told her she had no more money and even shown her empty purse—so she’d been lied to!
Song Lianggui’s face darkened, a cold glint in his eyes. He’d originally planned to share some grain with Yuanxiang once their fields produced a harvest, but if she’d been hiding money and deceiving them, then she’d leave him no choice.
His voice was low and menacing: “In a few days, the village chief will come to allocate land. Yuanxiang’s family has no one who can farm—we’ll have all their land added to ours.”