“Wen Xi, at the very least my parents are your elders. My father is also a military district political commissar. Where is your upbringing? Is this how your parents taught you—to disrespect elders and leaders?”
Jiang Yuting, seeing her parents repeatedly lose face in front of Wen Xi and now even being called shameless, finally lost patience. Unable to bear the thought of losing so much money, she forgot her own guilty position and began to accuse Wen Xi.
Wen Xi’s expression turned icy, as if covered in frost.
“My parents taught me that elders and leaders can be either good or bad.
We should respect those who are upright, selfless, kind, and benevolent—but people who only appear kind while actually being hypocritical and self-serving are not worthy of respect.
Since you’re willing to return my things, that proves you already know Song Mingyuan committed marriage fraud. If you don’t want to publish a public apology, then we’ll wait for the military investigation results.
As for your so-called good job and good match—I’m not interested at all.
Political Commissar Jiang, Teacher Liu, please see yourselves out. I need to wash up and rest.”
Wen Xi’s lips curled into a cold smile. She had already secured two high-paying jobs with ease—jobs that didn’t require daily attendance and still paid more than theirs.
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That 18-yuan-per-month temporary job at the supply and marketing cooperative—whoever wanted it could take it. Did they think she was some stray beggar to be casually dismissed?
Political Commissar Jiang and Liu Hui’s faces turned green, white, then red in succession. Their expressions shifted like a changing mask, a hint of guilty calculation flashing in their eyes.
Although this was exactly what they had intended, having it exposed so bluntly still made them lose face.
In their original plan, any job—even a temporary one—was a coveted opportunity. Many people waited years without getting one.
They had even planned to “take a loss” and recognize Wen Xi as a goddaughter. With their backing, as long as she didn’t commit serious crimes, she would have been able to move freely anywhere.
In their minds, the offer was generous enough that anyone with sense would know what to choose.
But reality had slapped them hard in the face. Wen Xi, this “fat as a pig” woman, had outright rejected them without hesitation.
Completely unexpected.
Liu Hui forced a smile as if nothing had happened, still trying to salvage the situation.
“Comrade Wen, don’t rush to refuse. Think it over carefully. A job and social status are very important for a woman—especially someone like you…”
“Unnecessary. I’ll find my own job. No need for your concern. Please leave.”
Wen Xi stood up and opened the door again, gesturing for them to leave. Her attitude was firm and unyielding.
Song Mingyuan said sorrowfully, full of disappointment:
“Wen Xi, don’t be ungrateful. I advise you to know when to stop. Do you even realize that once your background is exposed, no work unit will dare to hire you?
The fact that my father-in-law could arrange even a temporary job already took tremendous effort and connections. And you still aren’t satisfied?”
He felt increasingly uneasy as Wen Xi continued humiliating his in-laws. He feared Political Commissar Jiang would stop protecting him.
If Jiang Yuting divorced him, everything he had planned would collapse. He would be forced to remove his uniform and return to the countryside.
The thought of farming again—and the ridicule from villagers—made his resentment toward Wen Xi grow even stronger.
He even began planning how to please Jiang Yuting so she would beg her father to keep him in the military.
“I’ve really been too polite to you.”
Before he could react, Wen Xi kicked him straight out of the door. If the wall hadn’t been behind him, he would have fallen flat on his face.
“Get lost. The farther the better. Don’t let me see you again!”
Although she was speaking to Song Mingyuan, everyone in the room felt the words applied to them as well.
At this point, no one with pride could stay any longer.
Thus, the Jiang family could only leave with darkened faces.
Another unpleasant breakup.
As soon as she stepped outside, Liu Hui began cursing.
“I’ve never been so humiliated in my life! That fat woman is completely unreasonable—like a stone in a cesspit, foul and stubborn!”
“It’s all because of you!” she snapped, turning to Jiang Yuting. “You useless thing! You’ve dragged your father into being insulted! How did I give birth to such a disaster!”
“Enough,” Political Commissar Jiang said coldly. “What’s the point of saying this now? We should think about how to resolve the rest.”
Wen Xi was clearly a stubborn troublemaker. It seemed they would have to use their connections to minimize the impact.
His entire body radiated pressure. No one dared approach within a meter of him.
Song Mingyuan and Jiang Yuting followed silently, not daring to breathe loudly.
However, Song Mingyuan felt slightly relieved—his father-in-law’s tone suggested things wouldn’t be too severe.
After the unwanted guests left, the air in the room felt noticeably fresher.
Wen Xi locked the door, then took out her watch and examined it carefully before placing it along with the 3,000 yuan into her space for safekeeping.
That watch would be worth millions decades later—a property equivalent to a mansion in a major city. Only her space was truly safe.
She harvested the vegetables in her spiritual farmland, planted medicinal seeds and seedlings she had bought that day, and watered them with spirit spring water.
The moment the water seeped into the soil, the previously drooping plants instantly perked up, turning lush and vibrant before her eyes.
To Wen Xi, it looked like piles of money waving at her.
Who doesn’t like money? The more, the better.
After planting fruit tree saplings, she returned to the wooden house and began her translation work.
After reviewing the material, she realized it wasn’t highly technical, which made it easy for her.
Before her transmigration, she often discussed academic topics with foreign experts in English; her proficiency was on par with native speakers.
She wrote quickly, her pen moving like flying shadows across the page, the sound of writing filling the quiet space.
Page after page filled rapidly.
Only when her wrist grew tired did she pause to rest for a few minutes, drink spirit spring water to recover, and stretch her shoulders.
By dawn, she had completed both journals overnight.
She stretched, packed the manuscripts into a bag, and finally lay down on the bed to rest.