After seeing off the worried Mrs. Mei, Chen Zhiwei shut the courtyard gate.
The calm on her face was instantly replaced by an icy resolve.
She leaned against the door, her chest rising slightly with suppressed anger.
Those people in the old Chen household… they were like leeches, never knowing when to stop.
They even dared to meddle in her marriage.
“Sis, what did Granny Mei say?” Chen Zhiyi put down the bundle of firewood, immediately noticing his sister’s unusual mood. Worry was written all over his small face.
Chen Zhiwei quickly suppressed her fury, walked over, ruffled his hair, and forced a light smile. “Nothing to worry about. Some people just can’t stand that we’re living well, so they’re looking for trouble. Don’t be afraid. I’m here. This time, I won’t go easy—I’ll make sure they’re scared straight.”
The next day, Chen Zhiwei carried on with her usual chores. In the afternoon, she had just finished chopping firewood behind the house when a commotion of heavy footsteps and shouting came from outside the courtyard. Her eyes narrowed—here they come.
She signaled Chen Zhiyi to stay inside, grabbed her hefty chopping axe, and walked calmly into the courtyard. There, led by Chen Dahe, the entire old household barged in: Chen Dashan, Madam Wang, Liao Jinfeng, and a young man in a cheap but new silk shirt with a slick, greasy face—likely Wang Erniu. Chen Jinbao and Chen Zhiyuan followed, merely as onlookers.
“Brat, get out here! We’ve got a good match for you—don’t be ungrateful!” Madam Wang shrieked as soon as she entered, trying to seize the initiative.
Liao Jinfeng placed her hands on her hips, her sly eyes glinting with calculation. “Zhiwei, it’s time for a girl your age to marry. This is a fine match arranged by your second uncle—Wang Erniu from Wang Village. Land, property, wealth… marry him, and you’ll have an easy life! No more hard labor!”
Wang Erniu’s triangular eyes scanned Zhiwei, his gaze leering. “Cousin, come with me. You’ll eat well, live well. No more chores!” He stepped forward, grinning, reaching toward her.
Chen Zhiwei remained still, her grip tight on the axe. When Wang Erniu’s hand was just about to touch her sleeve, she swung the heavy chopping axe with a whoosh, stopping it mere inches from his nose.
“Ahhh!” Wang Erniu screamed, his face drained of color, stumbling back as if his legs might give out.
“A fine match?” Chen Zhiwei’s voice was icy. “Invading my home with this trash—that’s your idea of a ‘good match’? When did you all get to decide my marriage?”
Chen Dahe, seeing her dare to raise a weapon, was both shocked and furious. “How dare you! Parents’ orders, matchmakers’ arrangements—natural law! You’ll accept this marriage, whether you want it or not!”
“Elders? You call yourselves that?” Chen Zhiwei sneered, keeping the axe steady. “We just severed ties, and you’ve already forgotten? Seems my last lesson wasn’t enough!”
Seeing her unmoved, Liao Jinfeng began to make a scene. “No justice! Our niece wants to strike elders! Come see!”
Sure enough, curious villagers began gathering outside the fence, pointing and whispering.
Chen Zhiwei ignored them, fixing her gaze on the pale-faced Chen Dahe. “Chen Dahe, last warning. Take your people and get out of my house. One step further, and don’t blame me for this axe having no eyes.”
Chen Dahe, intimidated by her aura and noticing the growing crowd, tried to bark orders. “You dare! I won’t believe you’ll strike!”
“Don’t believe me?” Chen Zhiwei’s eyes sharpened. With a sharp twist of her wrist, the axe whistled past Chen Dahe’s ear, embedding itself deep in a firewood block behind him with a loud thunk, the blade vibrating audibly.
Everyone froze. Chen Dahe felt a chill down his spine, his legs trembling, nearly wetting himself.
Step by step, Chen Zhiwei advanced, picking up a thick firewood stick and pointing it at the terrified group. “Still not leaving? Fine. Today I’ll cripple you all, then march to the county to report you for trespassing, forced marriage, and extortion!”
Before her words had faded, she swung the stick at the nearest—Chen Dashan.
Smack! Chen Dashan cried out, clutching his arm as he collapsed to the ground.
Chen Zhiwei moved like lightning, the stick flying.
She aimed for thick flesh, striking with precise force—enough to hurt deeply but not inflict serious injury.
Chen Dahe tried to run but was knocked to his knees by another sweep. Madam Wang and Liao Jinfeng lunged forward, only to have their joints struck painfully, causing them to collapse. Wang Erniu, cowardly, tried to retreat, only to be kicked flat onto the ground.
The courtyard erupted with the cries and wails of the beaten. Villagers gaped, stunned by Zhiwei’s ferocity.
Satisfied, she stopped, pointing the stick at the sprawled, bruised intruders. Her voice cut like ice. “Listen carefully! This is my home! Anyone who dares to step inside again, anyone who dares to mention my marriage—I will take their legs off! I mean what I say! Now, leave!”
The old household scrambled, dragging the whimpering Wang Erniu along. Under the villagers’ contemptuous and fearful gazes, they fled, not daring to look back.
After this episode, Chen Zhiwei’s fearsome reputation spread far and wide. No one in the village dared to bother the siblings again, and the previous whispers and jealous gossip vanished. Peace had finally returned.
On the twenty-ninth day of the twelfth lunar month, Chenjia Village was alive with the atmosphere of the approaching New Year.
Chen Zhiwei’s humble hut was clean and orderly, with handwritten Fu characters pasted on the door and crude but cheerful window paper cutouts crafted by Chen Zhiyi. In the evening, inviting aromas filled the air.
A small wooden table was laden with a feast the siblings had never seen: a glossy plate of braised pork head meat symbolizing good fortune; a whole red-cooked carp, wishing abundance every year; a bowl of golden, clear chicken soup made with spiritual spring water; scrambled eggs, homegrown bean sprouts, and soft white buns. The steam blurred the frost on the windows, filling the little hut with warmth.
“Sis, so many dishes!” Chen Zhiyi’s eyes shone as he gazed at the table, swallowing hard.
“It’s New Year. Eat as much as you want!” Chen Zhiwei smiled, serving him a generous piece of pork head meat and a full bowl of soup. “Eat up and grow strong in the year to come.”
Chen Zhiyi nodded vigorously, biting into the meat, eyes squinting with satisfaction. “Sis, it’s so good! I wish every day were New Year!”
“Foolish boy, the good days are just beginning.” Chen Zhiwei ate with him, her heart full.
This was their first real reunion since leaving the old Chen household. Just the two of them, yet it felt warmer and safer than any previous New Year.
Outside, the wind howled, but inside, the hut was cozy, scented with food and filled with the siblings’ laughter.
After dinner, darkness had fallen. Chen Zhiwei brought out pre-prepared firecrackers and a stick of incense. “Come on, Zhiyi! Let’s set off firecrackers, scare away the bad luck, and welcome the New Year!”
Zhiyi, both excited and slightly scared, covered his ears, hiding behind his sister and peeking out.
Chen Zhiwei smiled, lit the fuse, and ran. After a brief pause, the firecrackers erupted—crackle-crackle! Red sparks and shredded paper flew into the night, the smell of gunpowder filling the cold air and sweeping away the old year.
Neighbors’ firecrackers followed suit, and the village slowly became lively. Zhiyi gazed at the red confetti outside their door, his small face flushed with excitement. “Sis, next year we’ll be even better, right?”
“Yes,” Chen Zhiwei said, looking into her brother’s shining eyes. Amid the sound of firecrackers, she made her New Year wish: a safe home, a prosperous life, and success for her brother.