San Ya ran out in anger over the dried meat, venting her frustration, and didn’t return until nightfall. When she got back, she was hungry and went to look for something to eat—only to find that nothing had been left for her in the pot.
Her anger flared instantly. She had worked so hard to push for the family to split up, thinking life would get better afterward. Who knew that after the separation, an even harder challenge would be waiting for her?
San Ya tried hard to suppress her emotions, comforting herself—first, she needed to find something to eat and deal with her hunger.
“Eldest Sister, that’s not right, is it? San Ya hasn’t eaten yet! If you eat her portion, what will she do when she comes back?” Just as San Ya returned to ask Er Ya if there was any food left, she heard Er Ya speaking to Da Ya at the doorway.
That was the last straw. San Ya could no longer tolerate Da Ya. She pushed the door open and shouted, “Song Xue’er, why are you stealing my food?” Then she rushed forward and snatched the bowl from Da Ya.
Inside, there were only a few grains of corn and some wild vegetables left. She suddenly recalled her previous life—how it was this same elder sister, after marrying into town, who introduced her to a second-marriage man who was abusive. With the lure of a high bride price and her parents constantly brainwashing her, she had married him. Afterward, she was either beaten or scolded daily. Even after the man died, she was dragged down by his children from the previous marriage. In the end, she was even mocked by this very elder sister.
“Bang!” All the grievances and tears from both her past and present life exploded as she hurled the bowl straight at Da Ya.
“Ah!” Da Ya cried out, clutching her forehead in pain as tears streamed down her face.
“San Ya, are you crazy?!” Er Ya pushed San Ya aside and rushed over to Da Ya, prying her hands away to check her injury. Seeing that there was no bleeding—just a swollen red bump—she finally relaxed.
Second Brother Song and his wife, holding their baby, were startled by the scream and hurried over. “What happened? Da Ya, how are you?”
Seeing them, Da Ya immediately felt supported and began to complain, “Mom, look at my forehead—it was hit by San Ya!”
“San Ya, you never learn! You wouldn’t give in to your brother this afternoon, and now you’re hitting your sister tonight. Let’s see if I don’t beat you to death today!” Father Song said, handing the child to Mother Song as he prepared to strike.
“Why should you hit me? You didn’t even ask what happened before deciding it’s my fault!” San Ya cried as she looked at her father.
Across two lifetimes, her parents had always favored her eldest sister. Even their names reflected it. Er Ya was named “Pan Di” (hoping for a younger brother), she herself was “Ying Di” (welcoming a brother), Fourth Sister was “You Di,” Fifth Sister “Shou Di”—all names wishing for a son. Only the eldest sister was named Xue’er. Thinking about it, it felt unbearably unfair. Clearly they all had the same parents, yet just like their names suggested, all the sisters except Song Xue’er had become stepping stones for their younger brother.
“Dad, Mom, you misunderstood San Ya. She didn’t mean to. It’s because Eldest Sister ate San Ya’s dinner. When San Ya tried to take it back, it was already gone, so she lost control,” Er Ya quickly explained.
“Da Ya, did you really eat San Ya’s portion?” Second Brother Song asked, his anger subsiding.
“I… I wasn’t full tonight. I thought San Ya had gone out to find food, so I ate it…” Da Ya said softly, lowering her head and covering her forehead.
“Forget it. You all made mistakes tonight. San Ya, don’t run out so late in the future—you never know what might happen. Understand?” Second Brother Song said.
San Ya lowered her head, a flash of hatred flickering in her eyes. She knew that she was still young and powerless for now.
In the end, the commotion died down as Second Brother Song and the others left.
In Father and Mother Song’s room, Mother Song quickly stitched a torn piece of clothing, tying a knot before glancing at Father Song, who was soaking his feet. “I feel like Third Son’s wife has changed today. She suddenly started caring about her children.”
“Isn’t that a good thing? Now that they’ve split from the family, can she really ignore her kids?” Father Song said, feeling uneasy as he thought about the separation. He had hoped for four generations living together.
“I just hope she’ll treat the children better from now on… sigh…” Mother Song sighed, recalling how Third Son’s wife had neglected her own children over the years.
“Let’s wait and see,” Father Song said, wiping his feet and lying down.
Mother Song said nothing more and continued her sewing.
In Eldest Brother Song’s room, he and his wife lay in bed. His wife couldn’t fall asleep and asked, “Do you think Third Son’s wife will really spend a thousand yuan to buy that property?”
“Who knows? Someone like her—how could she possibly save money? Every time she gets her allowance, she goes to town to shop,” Eldest Brother Song replied.
“Exactly. Dressing like a fox spirit every day, buying a new dress almost every two months, not doing any work. Third Son must have been blind to marry someone like her!” she said sourly.
“Why think so much? With so many sons, their family will be eaten into poverty sooner or later. Go to sleep—we still have work tomorrow,” Eldest Brother Song said, already feeling drowsy.
“Hey, don’t sleep yet! You haven’t told me what we’re going to do with our house!” she said, shaking him—but he was already sleeping like a log.
After sorting everything, Lin Ruxia gathered the original owner’s clothes, planning to exchange them for goods the next day. Only then did she realize—the original owner had twenty dresses, but only two sets of tops and pants, both quite old, likely worn during her time in the countryside.
She packed all the dresses into a sack, intending to sell them. These dresses had been bought at the supply and marketing cooperative, and the staff there knew the original owner well. Whenever she lacked cloth coupons, she could exchange old dresses—but only five old ones for one new item.
These twenty dresses should fetch around sixty yuan, plus twenty to thirty feet of cloth coupons. To have an excuse for producing cloth and money, she would have to go herself—she couldn’t let anyone else know.
Lin Ruxia had majored in dermatology in university, specializing in formulas to enhance beauty. After returning home, she had planned to work at her family’s beauty salon. She also minored in fashion design—both fields she loved, and her family had always supported her interests.
She felt sleepy. Back home, she wouldn’t sleep until after ten, but now it wasn’t even eight yet—it felt too early.
Still, after everything that had happened today, she was mentally and physically exhausted. Her body was still injured, and she couldn’t understand how the original owner had endured giving birth to so many children—one almost every year, except for the year her husband didn’t return. Lin Ruxia felt she needed to see a doctor tomorrow. She had heard that giving birth consumed a lot of vitality—one child could age a woman by ten years.
Was it just because this was a novel, where such settings didn’t matter? It seemed every family had five or six children, and the original owner was the extreme case among them.
Gradually, Lin Ruxia fell asleep.
On the other side, Song Dabao and the others couldn’t sleep.
“Second Brother, is Mom really taking us to town tomorrow?” Song Sanbao asked, leaning against him.
“That’s what she said today. She even said she’d buy cloth to make us clothes,” Song Erbao replied, still finding it hard to believe—after all, their mother rarely cared about them.
“I think Mom was especially nice today—she gave us rice, eggs, and dried meat! It was even better than a festival meal. If she could always be like this…” Sanbao said, savoring the memory.
“Alright, go to sleep. We’ll see tomorrow,” Dabao reminded them.
The next morning, the children got up at five to wash, but no matter how long they waited, Lin Ruxia didn’t come out.
“Did Mom forget? Or are we not going anymore?” Sanbao asked worriedly. None of them had ever been to town, but they knew there was a bus passing by the school around 7:10 every morning—they had always envied those who rode it.
“She shouldn’t forget. She goes to town often—she should know the time. Let’s wait a bit longer,” Dabao said, though he was growing anxious.
Lin Ruxia noticed her biological clock had changed—she used to wake after seven, but today she woke before five. Soon after waking, she heard the children outside.
Right—the bus! They had to catch the 7:10 one. Walking from the commune to town took three to four hours, but the bus only took one hour. And it took an hour just to get from the village to the commune—they had to leave before dawn.
She hurriedly got up and went outside. Opening the door, she saw the children looking excited.
“You’re all up already! Have you eaten breakfast?” she asked awkwardly.
“No… we don’t need breakfast,” Sanbao replied pitifully.
“How can you skip breakfast? I still have some mung bean cakes—eat a little to fill your stomach. We’ll eat something better in town,” she said, going back inside to grab the remaining cakes, along with some rice and sweet potatoes.
“Here, eat first. I’ll go wash up. Take this grain to your grandma and ask her to cook for the younger ones.”
“Thank you, Mom!” Dabao said, dividing the cakes.
When Lin Ruxia returned, two cakes were still left.
“Mom, you eat these.”
She was touched.
“No, you eat them. I still have something else,” she said, pushing them back.
“Are you all ready? It’s already 5:30—we’ll be late if we don’t leave soon.”
“Yes!” Erbao replied.
“Wait for me—I’ll grab some things.” She took out a sack and a bag of milk candies.
“Mom, I’ll carry it,” Dabao said, taking it from her without asking.
“Alright.” It wasn’t heavy, but she didn’t want to refuse his kindness—or raise suspicion.
After all, when someone suddenly treats you very well, there’s usually a reason.