At the same time, over the past few months, Second Elder Sister Zhou Qingcha had been returning more and more frequently. She came once every month and stayed for half a day each time.
When she left, Mother Zhou always gave her some fruits and vegetables. Such things were not scarce in the countryside.
Zhou Qingling thought that perhaps the two of them were discussing some secret. She listened in from the corner for a while, but the two did not say anything unusual.
Mother Zhou was also somewhat puzzled by Elder Sister Zhou’s frequent visits. At first, she thought something had happened. After carefully asking, Elder Sister Zhou only said she came to relax and to look at the rice fields to lift her mood.
Mother Zhou did not understand it. What was there to look at? She herself had been looking at them for half her life.
Zhou Qingling sat on the blue stone cliff on the southern mountain. It was her secret base, a place where few people usually came.
Because the entire hillside was made of rock and did not grow grass, villagers often came here to collect stones for building courtyard walls.
Since learning about her fate, she had developed very complicated feelings toward Zhou Qingcha. If she said she hated her, those events had not yet happened—but she knew clearly that in the story, that was her ending. It was only a matter of time.
Just as she was preparing to go down the mountain, she saw a figure in the distance. The person moved very cautiously, repeatedly confirming that no one was around before slipping into a cornfield.
From such a distance, she could not see the face clearly, but Zhou Qingling still recognized her—it was her Second Elder Sister Zhou Qingcha.
Why had she come to such a remote place? The corn was currently in its ear-forming stage, and once Zhou Qingcha entered, she disappeared from view.
Zhou Qingling decided to go take a look. Her intuition told her something was going on.
She quickly ran down the mountain. As she approached, she suddenly heard footsteps ahead and immediately hid herself within the corn stalks.
Soon, a man arrived. Because he was close enough, Zhou Qingling clearly saw his face—it was Candidate No. 4, Zhou An.
He wore a cyan robe today and lingered nearby for a while before also slipping into the same place where Zhou Qingcha had gone.
Damn… she already guessed the truth.
Without hesitation, Zhou Qingling also quietly followed in. At that moment, Zhou Qingcha and Zhou An were already entangled in a heated affair.
Zhou Qingling was so shocked her jaw nearly dropped. In this era, a woman’s chastity was regarded as more precious than life itself. Her Second Elder Sister was absolutely ruthless among ruthless people—she had even resorted to the method of “borrowing seed.” As expected, everyone around the protagonist was merely a tool.
Second Elder Sister was clearly driven to desperation. The pressure from her in-laws must have been immense. In order to become pregnant, she had resorted to any means necessary.
The two were in the midst of passion. Perhaps because they were too hurried, Zhou Qingcha’s undergarment was hanging loosely, while her trousers had been completely removed.
Zhou An no longer carried his usual refined, scholarly demeanor. Instead, he looked somewhat vulgar, breathing heavily as he worked while asking:
“Ah Cha, I missed you so much.”
“Does it feel good…?”
Zhou Qingcha’s voice was soft and seductive, her breaths broken into faint moans that further stimulated the man.
“Am I better… or is your cheap husband better?”
Damn it—men were all the same. They never competed over who treated a woman better in life, yet always insisted on proving superiority in this matter.
But women’s words could be deceptive; trusting them often led to misery.
Clearly, Zhou Qingcha knew this well. She kept begging for mercy with her words.
It was obvious this was not their first time.
Zhou Qingling immediately covered her eyes, fearing she might see something improper, and quickly slipped into her storage space.
She began to consider whether she should expose this pair of illicit lovers. If Zhou Qingcha’s reputation was ruined, she would not be able to remain in her husband’s household and would inevitably be divorced. Then her own future troubles would naturally disappear.
However, thinking of the social background of this era, if she did so, she would also pay a heavy price.
In the clan, if a woman was divorced or involved in a scandal, the entire family’s reputation would be affected. Especially since Zhou Qingcha was her biological elder sister—once the scandal spread, she would never be able to marry well again. She would be pointed at for the rest of her life, and even future in-laws would use it against her. The cost was too great.
Although it could resolve future trouble, it was essentially a case of killing the enemy by one thousand while losing eight hundred of her own.
Zhou Qingling picked up a stone and threw it toward the area near the two of them, then immediately returned to her storage space.
The two, startled by the noise, were frightened like birds at the crack of a bow. All their desire vanished instantly. No one knew whether this would leave psychological shadows on the man in the future.
They hurriedly dressed and left separately. After that, Zhou Qingcha did not return to her maternal home for a long time.
That night, Zhou Qingling lay in bed, half-asleep and half-awake. Suddenly, inside the storage space, a “ding” sounded, and a third book appeared.
She immediately entered the storage space.
This time, the protagonist of the book was Old Fourth Zhou Guanghe. For rural families seeking to rise in status, apart from rare opportunities, there was only one path—imperial examinations.
Only through true talent could one change the fate of an entire family.
But though it sounded simple, it was extremely difficult. There was a saying: “When one person attains the Dao, even chickens and dogs ascend to heaven.” This was not metaphor, but reality.
Zhou Guanghe passed the tongsheng examination at the age of fourteen. The village school was only enough for basic enlightenment; to advance further, one had to go to town or the county.
In ancient times, access to knowledge was limited, and learning relied heavily on mentorship. Ordinary people could not even obtain past exam papers, so what could they use to prepare?
The Lushan Academy in the county was the most sought-after place for scholars. It had produced many successful candidates, including juren and jinshi, and even once a zhuangyuan.
Entering Lushan Academy meant success was halfway achieved.
However, admission standards were extremely high.
First, one had to be talented enough—if the academy head valued you, even without money, you could study there.
Second, recommendation was required, which was the most common path for admission.
Third, sponsorship—though not everyone could obtain it. It depended on one’s ability to offer value.
The academy head also had to make a living. Occasionally, exceptions were made, and underperforming students were admitted to maintain balance and confidence among top students. Of course, violating academy rules meant no amount of money would help.
But Zhou Guanghe was not a genius—just an ordinary person, and his family was poor. His only option was recommendation.
Yet the Zhou family were rural peasants, generations of hereditary farmers.
They had no connections to great scholars. At that time, Zhou Qingcha used a recommendation letter in exchange for allowing the original owner to enter the Zhang family household.
Sacrificing an unloved daughter to secure a son’s future path, while also stabilizing Zhou Qingcha’s position in her in-laws’ home—this transaction was clearly “worth it.”
Father Zhou and Mother Zhou only said helplessly to the original owner: “Your elder sister cannot bear children; there is no other choice. As her younger sister, you should help your family. Besides, you are only going to the Zhang family as a concubine—your Second Elder Sister will not treat you badly.”
With just that helpless sentence, the original owner’s entire life was decided. No one cared whether she was willing.
With that recommendation letter, Zhou Guanghe successfully entered Lushan Academy. Three years later, he passed the xiucai examination, and the Zhou family finally produced their first xiucai.
And the book clearly recorded the original owner’s cause of death.
Ding Estate was the wealthiest family in town, a true landlord household, owning nearly thirty percent of the surrounding land.
The Second Young Master of the Ding family was extremely lustful, indulging in bullying men and women, especially favoring women who had just given birth.
One day, the original owner carried her child to deliver food to her sister at a shop, and happened to be seen by the Second Young Master Ding.
Zhou Qingcha noticed his interest.
Two days later, a small sedan quietly entered the side gate of the Ding residence. From then on, the Ding family’s cloth business began cooperating with the Zhang family cloth shop. Because of this, Zhou Qingcha’s mother-in-law gradually trusted her to manage household business affairs.
Half a month later, the original owner’s corpse appeared at a mass grave in the western suburbs.
Zhou Qingcha then staged a performance, claiming the original owner had eloped with a traveling peddler. She even stabbed her own arm, saying she had discovered their affair and was injured when they fled.
The original owner was thus portrayed as shameless, cruel, and a woman who abandoned her child.
After reading this, Zhou Qingling was so enraged she felt as if her entire body was exploding. She understood it clearly now—the Zhou family’s prosperity had been built on the original owner’s bones and blood. Even in death, she was left with infamy.
Damn it. From this moment on, the Zhou family had better stay far away from her.