A splash of cold water hit her face, and Chen Zhiwei jolted awake.
She instinctively sat up, but before she could even see what was going on, a heavy slap landed across her cheek!
“You jinx! You ungrateful wretch who killed your parents! Lying there like a corpse—who are you putting on a show for? Have you chopped the pig fodder? Carried the water? There’s a whole mountain of work waiting, and you think you’re some precious thing who can just lie there? Our Chen family must have had eight lifetimes of bad luck to raise a worthless girl like you!”
The shrill, piercing voice stabbed into her ears like needles.
Chen Zhiwei clutched her face as a flood of chaotic, bitter memories surged into her mind—
She had transmigrated.
She had become a twelve-year-old peasant girl—also named Chen Zhiwei.
Her father, Chen Dajiang, was the youngest son in the family.
When her mother gave birth to her younger brother, Chen Zhiyi, she died from complications. Three years ago, her father went into the mountains to hunt wild game to nourish her frail brother… and never returned.
The siblings were left as orphans.
The Chen family had never split up; they all lived together with their grandmother and eldest uncle’s family. The aunt-in-law, Madam Wang, was sharp-tongued and vicious—and the one who had just slapped and cursed her was none other than her.
The original owner of this body had already been weak and sickly. With that slap and the shock of the cold water, she had died on the spot.
A surge of anger shot up within her.
Chen Zhiwei hadn’t been slapped in years. Others might endure it—but she wouldn’t.
“What are you staring at? You still dare glare at me?” Madam Wang saw the coldness in her eyes and, instead of backing down, became even more aggressive. She reached out to twist her ear. “Looks like your skin’s too thick—you’re asking for a beating!”
Just as those rough fingers were about to touch her—
Chen Zhiwei moved.
She suddenly raised her hand and grabbed Madam Wang’s wrist. The force was so strong that Madam Wang’s expression changed instantly.
“Ah! You little bitch, you dare fight back?! You’ve got some nerve! Let go!” Madam Wang shrieked, struggling, but the small hand gripping her felt like an iron clamp.
The commotion quickly drew others over.
“What’s all this noise? Wailing like there’s a funeral first thing in the morning!”
An elderly woman in coarse linen clothes stepped out from the main house, her face stern. Her hair was neatly combed without a strand out of place—this was the matriarch of the Chen family, Chen Zhiwei’s grandmother, Liao Jinfeng.
Behind her followed her most treasured darling—Madam Wang’s youngest son, six-year-old Chen Jinbao. He held half a white flour bun, his mouth greasy with oil, making faces smugly at Chen Zhiwei.
“Mother! You must stand up for me!” Madam Wang immediately began wailing. “That dead girl Zhiwei is too lazy to get up. I only said a couple of words, and she dared to fight back! Look at my wrist!”
Liao Jinfeng’s triangular eyes narrowed as she glanced at Chen Zhiwei, full of disdain. “A worthless girl always brings trouble. And you—why bother arguing with a mere girl? Just make her get up and work! Jinbao’s clothes haven’t been washed, and the chickens and ducks in the backyard haven’t been fed. There’s a pile of work waiting!”
Her words sounded neutral, but in truth, they were entirely biased—lightly brushing over Madam Wang’s violence and focusing only on pushing Chen Zhiwei to work.
Chen Zhiwei sneered inwardly.
This old woman was the worst of them all—pretending ignorance while favoring some over others. She doted on the second branch’s grandson Chen Zhiyuan, who studied in town, and on this spoiled little grandson Chen Jinbao. As for Chen Zhiwei and Chen Zhiyi? Just two extra mouths to feed.
“Grandmother,” Chen Zhiwei released Madam Wang’s wrist. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it rang clearly. “I’m not being lazy. I’m sick. I have a fever—I can’t get up.”
“Sick?” Liao Jinfeng frowned deeper. “A little illness and you’re acting delicate? Which girl doesn’t go through that? Get up—stop pretending!”
At that moment, a timid voice came from the kitchen doorway.
“Grandmother… Sister… Sister had a fever yesterday. Could you… let her rest? I can do more work…”
It was Chen Zhiyi.
Two years younger than her, he was small and frail due to poor health and long-term malnutrition. At ten, he looked like a child of seven or eight—thin as a stick, face pale. He clutched his worn clothes nervously, summoning the courage to plead for his sister.
“Oh? Such deep sibling affection?” Madam Wang sneered. “Zhiyi, what can that scrawny body of yours even do? Don’t end up dropping a basin before finishing anything! Go chop the firewood!”
Liao Jinfeng waved her hand impatiently. “Enough, enough. Zhiwei, get up and stop dawdling. Jinbao, come—Grandma will make you a bowl of sugar water.”
With that, she led her precious grandson back into the main house, completely ignoring her granddaughter’s “illness.”
Watching her grandmother leave with Chen Jinbao, then looking at Madam Wang’s smug expression and her brother’s worried, helpless eyes—
The fire in Chen Zhiwei’s chest finally exploded.
What kind of family was this?!
She suddenly threw off the thin, damp, moldy blanket—hard as a wooden board—and stood up. Though her body was weak and her steps unsteady, her back was straight as a spear.
“Work?” She looked at Madam Wang, a cold smile curling her lips. “Fine. But let me make this clear—starting today, Zhiyi and I eat the same food as everyone else. No more rotten leftovers! And Zhiyi is still young and weak—he won’t be doing heavy labor anymore!”
Madam Wang burst out laughing like she had heard the biggest joke in the world. “Oh my! Give you an inch and you take a mile! You think you deserve the same food? You? And why can’t Zhiyi work? What kind of boy is delicate like that? Are we raising you for free?”
“For free?” Chen Zhiwei stepped closer, her gaze sharp as a blade. “My parents may be gone—but what about what they left behind? The land and property that should belong to them—where did it go? And the money my father earned from hunting—wasn’t all of it handed over to the family? Supporting the two of us? You could support ten of us with that!”
Her words struck directly at Madam Wang and Liao Jinfeng’s sore spot.
“What nonsense are you spouting!” Liao Jinfeng turned around sharply, her face dark. “Everything your father had went into the family fund! Doesn’t a big household need money? Doesn’t your second uncle’s son need money to study in town? What does a little girl like you understand!”
“I don’t understand?” Chen Zhiwei raised her voice, making sure the neighbors could hear. “I understand that my brother and I are starving! We do the most work and eat the worst food! Grandmother, tell me honestly—if my parents knew their children were being treated like this, would they rest in peace?!”
“Rebellious! Absolutely rebellious!” Liao Jinfeng trembled with anger, pointing at her. “You unfilial thing! How dare you speak to me like this! Dajiang! Dajiang, where are you?!”
Her eldest son, Chen Dashan, who had just returned from carrying water, hurried in, confused. “Mother, what’s going on?”
“Look at the good niece you’ve raised!” Madam Wang rushed over, crying. “She’s rebelling! Refusing to work and talking back! Now she even demands good food! She’s trying to kill us!”
Chen Dashan, a man with no backbone, frowned. “Zhiwei, stop talking. Apologize to your grandmother and aunt, then go do your work.”
“Apologize? I did nothing wrong—why should I?” Chen Zhiwei looked at their hypocritical faces, her heart cold as ice. “Either you return what rightfully belongs to me and Zhiyi and let us split from the family—or this work? Whoever wants to do it can do it. We’re done serving you!”
“Split the family?!” Liao Jinfeng shrieked like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. “Don’t even think about it! As long as I’m alive, no one gets to decide that but me! You’re asking for a beating!”
She grabbed a broom from by the door and swung it at Chen Zhiwei!
Seeing this, Madam Wang sneered and moved in to help restrain her.
Chen Zhiwei’s eyes turned cold.
This was exactly what she had been waiting for.
Just as the broom was about to strike, and Madam Wang’s hand was about to grab her—
Chen Zhiwei moved.
She sidestepped the broom, grabbed Madam Wang’s wrist again, and with her other hand seized her belt.
A strange, surging power suddenly erupted within her—
“Ah—!”
Amid Madam Wang’s terrified scream, Chen Zhiwei actually lifted the woman—who was more than twice her size—straight into the air!