“Mother, it’s me! Hurry and open the door!”
“Mother, I know I was wrong. Please open up!”
Hearing the commotion, Wu Yulan grabbed the bamboo broom by the door without a word.
When Song Erlang saw her step out, he followed behind eagerly, still holding his bowl.
“Oh my… Grandma isn’t going to beat Uncle, is she?”
At that, everyone put down their chopsticks and followed outside.
Song Qianhua held her bowl and sat on the threshold. “All these years, Grandma hasn’t even had the heart to scold Uncle once. How could she possibly hit him?”
“Want to make a bet?”
Song Erlang’s eyes sparkled as he stared at the broom in Wu Yulan’s hand. He had a feeling Grandma was definitely going to give Uncle a beating this time.
“Fine! Loser feeds the pigs and chickens tomorrow!” Song Qianhua put her hands on her hips, looking utterly confident.
The two of them followed to the courtyard gate and peeked out.
At first glance, they almost didn’t recognize the person outside.
The man was dressed in filthy, tattered clothes. His face was bruised blue and purple, and he lay weakly on the ground in utter disarray.
“Grandma… is that really Uncle? Don’t mistake him for someone else.”
Song Erlang stretched his neck and covered his mouth to stifle a laugh.
In the Song family, Song Zhishu had always been treated like an honored guest. His clothes had never been stained with even a speck of dust. This was the first time he looked so miserable.
Especially now, being laughed at by the younger generation in such a sorry state, Song Zhishu burned with anger.
“You brat! How dare you laugh at me? Are you looking for death?”
He picked up a stick from the ground and struggled to his feet to chase Song Erlang, but before he could reach him, a broom came down squarely on his head.
“Ow—!”
Clutching his head, Song Zhishu howled.
Song Erlang’s eyes lit up. Leaning toward Song Yinhua, he whispered, “See? I won!”
But Wu Yulan didn’t stop. She thrust the broom at Song Zhishu again and again, leaving Song Yinhua dumbfounded.
Wang Guiqin and the others were equally stunned, standing there with their mouths agape.
After all, Song Zhishu was Mother’s most beloved and cherished youngest son! Normally, she wouldn’t even bear to scold him—she would coax him gently instead.
Song Zhishu was beaten so thoroughly he felt dazed. “Mother, stop hitting me! Stop! I know I was wrong—I really do!”
“Who’s your mother? You black-hearted beggar, don’t you dare claim kinship with me!” Wu Yulan snapped, jabbing the broom straight at his face.
“Ah! Mother, don’t! Not my face! I still have to pass the imperial examination and become top scholar! If you ruin my face, how will I become champion and honor you in the future?”
Song Zhishu covered his face with his hands, hopping about frantically.
“Become top scholar? You’re capable of selling your own nieces for money. A black-hearted creature like you doesn’t even qualify to sit for the exams—let alone become top scholar. Dream on!”
Still unsatisfied, Wu Yulan lifted her leg and kicked him squarely in the backside.
“Ow—!”
Song Zhishu tumbled several times and fell straight into a small ditch.
Climbing out, he finally grew angry.
“Mother, what are you doing? She’s just a girl. If I want to sell her, I’ll sell her!”
“Besides, I sold them for their own good. Instead of drinking rice-bran porridge at home every day, they could go to a wealthy household and eat and drink well with the young ladies.”
Wu Yulan was so furious she nearly laughed. The original host had truly raised a fine specimen.
“Eat and drink well? Heh.”
“So you’re saying you did it for their own good?”
Song Zhishu nodded as if it were perfectly natural. “Of course!”
“I’m their uncle, their elder. Wouldn’t I act in their best interest?”
“So elders can just sell off the children in the family at will?”
Song Zhishu sensed something off in her tone, but since he had already spoken, he couldn’t contradict himself. He nodded stiffly.
“Yes!”
Wu Yulan let out a cold chuckle. “Eldest daughter-in-law, bring me a rope!”
Called out by name, Wang Guiqin didn’t dare delay and quickly fetched a hemp rope from the woodshed.
Wu Yulan took it and personally tied Song Zhishu up tight.
“You like selling your nieces? Like the idea of living under someone else’s roof? Fine. Today, your own mother will let you have a taste of what it’s like to be someone’s servant!”
Chunni spoke timidly, “Grandma… are you going to sell Uncle?”
After tying him up, Wu Yulan pushed him to the ground.
“Sell him. If I don’t sell this black-hearted thing, sooner or later he’ll sell off every child in this family.”
Hearing this, Song Zhishu laughed fearlessly.
“Mother, I’m taking the county-level exam next month. If I’m entered into slave status, I’ll never be able to take the higher exams.”
“The exams?”
Wu Yulan strode back into the courtyard and soon returned with a stack of his finished calligraphy sheets.
“Look at this trash you wrote. Let a slug crawl across the paper and it would look better.”
“Top scholar? You wouldn’t even qualify to roast sweet potatoes!”
Song Zhishu knew very well what he was capable of. Having it exposed so bluntly made his face turn from green to white.
After stammering for a while, he finally found an excuse.
“You… what do you know? This… this is cursive script!”
Wu Yulan stuffed the so-called “cursive script” straight into his mouth.
“To support your schooling, your eldest brother broke his leg hunting in winter. Your second brother nearly worked himself to death on river labor. Your third brother risked his life at the frontier and is missing, dead or alive. Even your two nieces were sold to scrape together your tuition. And what have you learned?”
“You’ve grown used to being supported by this family, so you should shoulder the responsibility that comes with it. You’ve sucked this family dry and ended up like this? You might as well not have studied at all!”
“Since you refuse to study properly, you’ll repay every bit this family invested in you over the years!”
“You like selling your nieces? Fine. Today I’ll sell you. Go work at Master Liu’s estate and earn back every coin I poured into you!”
Spitting out the wad of paper from his mouth, eyes bloodshot, Song Zhishu roared, “What right do you have to sell me?”