“Her fate is that good?” Pei Jin’an had been practicing writing, but after hearing the fortune Pei Qinhuai calculated, he frowned deeply.
“She’s such a bad person, and she still gets sixty years of good luck? I don’t believe it!”
As he spoke, Pei Jin’an made a face at Song Shiyu.
“Bad woman, heaven is going to punish you!”
Song Shiyu: “…”
This brat!
“How strange! What, are you pretending to be obedient in front of my third uncle now?” Pei Jin’an sneered. “I’ve already said that about you, and now you’re acting like you’re not angry. Pretty scheming, aren’t you?”
“…It’s not scheming,” Song Shiyu replied.
“Then what is it?”
“I’m just thinking that I’m older than you. So before heaven punishes me, I’ll make sure to beat your butt into bloom first.”
“You! You really are a bad woman!”
Song Shiyu smiled sweetly at him. “That’s already considered bad? You haven’t seen truly bad yet.”
After a pause, she continued scaring him.
“Not only will I beat your butt into bloom, I’ll skin you, pull out your tendons, gnaw on your bones, and eat your heart. A tender little child like you would smell the most delicious when cooked!”
Pei Qinhuai: “…”
Pei Jin’an burst into loud tears.
Beside him, Pei Jinxu’s eyes reddened as well, tears streaming down her face.
Clearly, both children had been completely frightened by Song Shiyu’s words.
Song Shiyu glanced at Pei Qinhuai and noticed his strange, unreadable expression. She sucked in a sharp breath and quickly grabbed his sleeve.
“Help me calm them down!”
Would this scholar really think she was a villain now?
Pei Qinhuai narrowed his eyes, his gaze rippling like water, and said calmly, “You caused it. You fix it.”
Song Shiyu: “…”
This dog of a man—truly heartless!
Actually leaving her to deal with this alone!
Fortunately, Song Shiyu was quite skilled at comforting children.
And these two little ones were only three years old—quick to forget pain once they were fed and coaxed.
As long as she was willing to soothe them, the problem wouldn’t be serious.
Thinking of this, she cleared her throat and went to fetch some paper that Pei Qinhuai had bought.
“I’m using one sheet!”
Pei Qinhuai’s lips moved slightly. His hand lifted halfway as if to stop her but froze in midair. He stared at the paper with visible reluctance.
It looked as though he already considered the sheet wasted.
That expression made Song Shiyu roll her eyes instantly.
But comforting the children was more important!
After taking the paper, she found a brush, dipped it in ink, adjusted the ink flow, and casually began drawing.
Pei Qinhuai already found her actions intriguing.
Watching her now, he couldn’t help leaning closer, curious about what she intended to do.
Very soon, he saw clearly.
Song Shiyu had started learning painting in elementary school.
There was no special reason—her mother loved painting, especially traditional Chinese ink paintings, particularly landscape scenes that made beautiful use of empty space.
Influenced by her mother, Song Shiyu had studied Chinese painting and sketching since childhood.
She originally thought that drawing now might feel stiff since this body hadn’t practiced before.
But unexpectedly, as soon as the brush touched the paper, the ink flowed smoothly, the shapes forming almost instantly.
Song Shiyu was surprised.
Then she realized that the original Second Miss Song had also attended private school and received education. She must have had decent brush control as well.
That made things easier.
Song Shiyu painted seriously.
Years of habit meant she never wasted any part of her work.
Her strokes were swift and natural, yet precise and controlled.
Very quickly, with only a few strokes, she sketched the Monkey King, Sun Wukong—one knee slightly bent, one hand shading his eyes as he gazed into the distance.
The long plume, the purple-gold crown, the tiger-skin skirt, the boots under his feet, and the sharp, righteous gaze…
A lifelike Sun Wukong appeared before them.
“Done!”
Song Shiyu set down the brush, lifted the painting, and held it in front of the two children.
“Do you know who this is?”
Pei Jin’an and Pei Jinxu had still been sniffling from fear and grievance. Their third uncle hadn’t comforted them at all, which made them even more upset.
Then they noticed the bad woman ignoring them completely and focusing on painting.
They had felt annoyed—but when she finished and showed them the painting, asking who it was, their attention was immediately captured.
Pei Jin’an stared at the drawing, eyes widening in shock.
It was beautiful!
It felt so real!
He had never seen this kind of painting before.
“Th-this is…”
He stammered for a long time but couldn’t figure it out. Stomping his foot, he stubbornly said, “It looks so ugly. Who knows who it is!”
Pei Jinxu was more honest and simply shook her head.
“I don’t recognize it. I’ve never seen it before.”
Song Shiyu nodded in satisfaction. “Of course you don’t know who this is. He’s a character from storybooks. His name is Sun Wukong.”
“The terrible things I just said were actually spoken by Sun Wukong’s junior disciple, Zhu Wuneng!”
“He got angry at Sun Wukong and jumped up scolding his senior brother.”
“Do you want to know what happened?”
Seeing the curiosity shining in both children’s eyes, Song Shiyu knew they wanted to hear a story.
That was the charm of storybooks.
Listening to stories and gossip had always been part of ordinary people’s traditions.
Pei Jin’an and Pei Jinxu’s family was poor, so they had never heard such interesting tales before. Though still a little reluctant, they pricked up their ears and listened carefully.
“This story begins when Tang Sanzang received the Tang Emperor’s order to journey west in search of sacred scriptures…” Song Shiyu began. “Long ago, there was a Tang Dynasty, ruled by a mighty emperor known as Emperor Taizong…”
As she continued telling the story, the two children gradually went from energetic listening to drooping eyelids, eventually growing sleepy.
Before long, they leaned against the chairs and fell asleep one after the other.
Pei Qinhuai walked over and carried the children back to bed.
The three of them usually slept in the same room.
To take care of them conveniently, Pei Qinhuai always slept on bedding laid on the floor.
Watching this, Song Shiyu couldn’t help but feel emotional.
Grandfather Pei had left behind three sons and one daughter.
Pei Qinhuai ranked third. The eldest and second brothers worked away from home year-round. They had craft skills—bricklaying, carpentry, and carving—and were fairly capable.
Both brothers married early.
The eldest left behind Pei Jin’an and Pei Jinxu, but his wife abandoned the children because the family was poor.
The second brother’s wife died in childbirth, and both mother and child perished during labor.
Grieving over what reminded them of home, the two brothers handed all their savings to Pei Qinhuai, asking him to take care of the elderly grandparents and the two children.
Then they left—and had not returned for three years.
There were rumors that they had been taken away by recent border wars and forced into military labor.