Just as Liu Xiaoman had carried the heavy sack of rice into the hut and hadn’t even had time to catch her breath, a burst of chaotic, hurried footsteps came from outside.
Her heart tightened. She peered through the crack in the door and saw Liu Dabao leading the way, followed by Old Madam Tian, her face so dark it looked like it could drip water, along with the sharp-faced Wang Jinhua and the shrinking, timid Liu Dashan.
This lineup—clearly, they hadn’t come with good intentions.
Li Xiuxiu had just seen the sack of white rice and felt a flicker of joy, but now it was instantly replaced with fear. She instinctively pulled Liu Congming behind her, her body trembling slightly.
In front of the hut, one side was the thin, newly fortunate family of three; the other was the large, aggressive group from the Liu family estate. The air seemed to freeze in an instant, tension crackling like drawn blades.
Old Madam Tian slammed her cane heavily against the ground with a dull “thud,” her murky eyes fixed on the sack of grain. Her voice was shrill yet self-righteous:
“Liu Xiaoman! I hear you’ve made a fortune? Think your wings have grown strong? Let me tell you—so long as your father’s surname is Liu, you belong to the Liu family! Whatever the second branch earns belongs to the whole family! Hand over the money and goods right now—I’ll distribute them properly!”
Wang Jinhua chimed in from the side, spittle flying. “Exactly! You’ve eaten and drunk from our family all this time, and now that you’ve got money you want to live on your own? Dream on! Hand it over, or don’t expect peace today!”
Liu Xiaoman shielded the trembling Li Xiuxiu and Liu Congming behind her, her frail back straight as a rod.
She lifted her head and met Old Madam Tian’s greedy gaze. Before the villagers gathering nearby could be driven away, she spoke clearly and loudly:
“Grandmother, that’s not quite right.”
Her voice wasn’t loud, but it was like a stone dropped into still water—everyone’s attention snapped toward her.
“Back then, in front of the village chief and all the villagers, you personally pressed your mark on the separation document. Black on white, it clearly states that the three of us were cast out with nothing, driven to this mass grave to fend for ourselves.”
She paused, glancing at the growing crowd. “What now? Just because we found a way to live—guided by Father in a dream—you no longer acknowledge that document?”
Her words were like a sharp blade, piercing through Old Madam Tian’s “for the family” façade and turning this private plunder into a public judgment before the entire village.
Right on cue, the village chief arrived—someone Liu Xiaoman had deliberately asked to come earlier. He stood at the edge of the crowd, hands behind his back, frowning.
Come on. Acting is my specialty, she sneered inwardly. If I don’t grind your faces into this dirt today, I’m not Liu Xiaoman!
She had already spent 0.1 of her 0.35 points in the system shop to exchange for a beginner item—a “Misfortune Talisman”—and was waiting for the perfect moment.
The next second, her eyes reddened, and large tears rolled down her dirty cheeks, leaving clear tracks.
Her voice choked with grief as she cried out to the villagers:
“Uncles, aunties, please judge for yourselves! When we were split from the family, Grandmother called us jinxes. She gave us only half a bag of rice bran—not a single coin—and drove us here to die!”
“I had a high fever and was near death. My mother begged for a bowl of porridge, and Aunt said it might as well be fed to a dog! Now that my father’s spirit guided me to find a medicinal herb and exchange it for some grain, they come to rob us! Are they trying to force a widow and her children to death?”
Her tearful accusations were vivid and heartfelt, each word soaked in sorrow.
They stirred the villagers’ sympathy.
Murmurs rose like a tide.
“This is too much—they’ve already split the family and still come to steal.”
“Exactly. They were so heartless when they drove them out, and now they’re jealous.”
“Old Madam Tian has really gone too far!”
Seeing public opinion turn sharply against her, Old Madam Tian simply dropped all pretense and resorted to her ultimate trick—throwing a tantrum.
With a loud “Oh heavens!” she plopped onto the ground, slapping her thighs and wailing:
“Heavens above! No justice in this world! The granddaughter I raised is unfilial! She makes money and turns her back on me, wants to watch me starve to death! I won’t live anymore! I’ll die right here so everyone can see how this heartless little wretch drives her own grandmother to death!”
As she howled, she crawled toward Liu Xiaoman, her claw-like hand reaching straight for the bulging money pouch at her waist.
Now!
Liu Xiaoman watched coldly. The moment Old Madam Tian’s fingers were about to touch her, she stepped back in feigned panic—while her own hand moved like lightning.
The transparent, cicada-wing-thin Misfortune Talisman slipped from her sleeve and was slapped silently onto Old Madam Tian’s back.
It dissolved instantly upon contact.
“Ah—!”
Old Madam Tian grabbed nothing. Overbalancing, she stumbled forward.
Worse still, as she rolled around earlier, her foot landed squarely on a fresh pile of dog droppings left at the doorway the night before.
Her foot slipped.
Before everyone’s eyes, she pitched forward in the most humiliating fashion—
Thud!
A dull impact, dust flying.
The crowd fell silent.
Everyone saw it: one moment she was wailing dramatically—the next, she had fallen flat on her face.
Her face landed directly into that yellow, unspeakable mess. Her mouth was filled with it.
Time seemed to freeze.
Then—
“HAHAHA—!”
Explosive laughter erupted.
Villagers pointed at her, doubled over with laughter, tears streaming down their faces.
Old Madam Tian, who had lorded over Liu Family Village for decades, had never suffered such humiliation. Her dignity shattered completely in that pile of dog filth.
Even the village chief felt embarrassed. He coughed heavily, stepped forward, and unfolded the separation document.
“In black and white, clear as day! Since the family has been divided, the second branch’s property belongs to them alone. It has nothing to do with the main house! Old Madam Tian, take your people and leave—stop making a spectacle of yourselves!”
Wang Jinhua and Liu Dashan rushed forward to help her up.
But Wang Jinhua tripped over a stone and fell with a scream.
Liu Dashan tried to pull her up, but used too much force—crack!—he twisted his back.
One covered in filth, one with scraped knees, one clutching his waist groaning, and Liu Dabao standing there stunned—the whole scene was a farce.
Amid the villagers’ laughter, they scrambled away in utter disgrace, practically fleeing back to the estate.
Before leaving, Old Madam Tian spat out the filth in her mouth and glared back at Liu Xiaoman with venomous hatred.
Her gaze was like a poisoned blade.
Liu Xiaoman met it calmly, her heart cold.
She knew this feud was now sealed.
With Old Madam Tian’s vindictive nature, they would never let this go.
Night fell. The cold wind blew through the countless holes in the hut, making the oil lamp flicker.
Li Xiuxiu and Liu Congming sat around a small table, happily eating fragrant white rice—the best meal they had had in months.
But Liu Xiaoman had no appetite.
She looked at the drafty, broken hut—barely even a proper door—and her resolve hardened.
They couldn’t stay here any longer.
It offered no protection—from the Liu family’s revenge, or from the unknown dangers of the mass grave.
They needed a new home.
A safe, hidden place that truly belonged to them.
Her gaze passed through the broken window, beyond the dim village lights, toward the distant mountains—dark silhouettes under the moon, shrouded in mist, rarely touched by human presence.
Danger lurked there.
But so did endless opportunity.
That place would be the true beginning of their new life.