“Ahhh—!”
Madam Wang’s pig-slaughter-like scream echoed through the entire Chen family courtyard, even reaching the neighboring houses.
Her burly body was effortlessly swung up by the frail-looking Chen Zhiwei, tracing an unbelievable arc through the air.
Amid Grandma Liao Jinfeng’s terrified shriek, Uncle Chen Dashan’s stunned stare, and little Chen Zhiyi’s suddenly brightened eyes—
Chen Zhiwei casually flung her.
The heavy body crashed straight toward the courtyard gate—right at her precious son, Chen Jinbao, who had just been peeking in to watch the commotion!
“Mother—!”
Chen Jinbao had never seen anything like this. Frozen in place, he was struck head-on by his flying mother.
Thud!
With a dull crash, mother and son collapsed into a tangled heap. Chen Jinbao was nearly crushed unconscious, rolling his eyes and wailing loudly, while Madam Wang lay there dizzy and groaning, unable to get up for a long time.
The courtyard fell into a deathly silence.
Liao Jinfeng’s raised broom froze midair, her eyes nearly popping out. Chen Dashan stood there with his mouth wide open, the carrying pole in his hand clattering to the ground.
That wretched girl… how could she have such strength?!
This was practically possession by a ghost!
Chen Zhiwei herself was slightly out of breath.
This body was still too weak—just that move had nearly drained the sudden surge of strength within her. But she forced herself to stand firm, betraying not a hint of weakness.
She dusted off her hands and looked coldly at Liao Jinfeng.
“Grandma,” she said calmly, “still want to hit me?”
Liao Jinfeng shuddered under her icy gaze and instinctively stepped back, her voice trembling despite its harshness. “Y-you… what kind of monster are you?! What did you do to my grandson?! Jinbao! My Jinbao!”
Only then did she rush toward the crying boy.
Chen Dashan hurried to help his wife and child, and the courtyard descended into chaos.
The commotion had already drawn a crowd of villagers, who gathered at the gate, pointing and whispering.
“Good heavens! What just happened? That girl Zhiwei threw Madam Wang out?”
“I saw it with my own eyes! Just one swing! How is she so strong?”
“She must’ve been pushed too far. The Chen family really went too far this time.”
“Poor children… look how they’ve been treated.”
The murmurs spread quickly. Liao Jinfeng’s face turned green, then white. She cared most about reputation—having the family’s disgrace exposed like this hurt more than being cut.
And this was exactly the effect Chen Zhiwei wanted.
She pulled her younger brother to the center of the courtyard and faced the crowd. Her voice trembled with emotion, but every word was clear:
“Uncles, aunts—please judge fairly! My brother and I lost our parents and live with our grandmother and uncle. We wake earlier than chickens, sleep later than dogs, and never slack off from work! But what do we eat? Rotten leftovers! My brother is ten years old, yet he looks like he’s seven or eight! I was sick and couldn’t get out of bed—my aunt poured cold water on me and slapped me! My grandmother didn’t even ask what happened and tried to beat me with a broom!”
She choked, then raised her voice.
“We are also blood of the Chen family! Just because our parents are gone, do we deserve to be treated like this?!”
As she spoke, she lifted Chen Zhiyi’s ragged shirt, revealing his emaciated chest and clearly visible ribs.
“Look! This is what they call ‘not letting us go hungry’! My parents’ land, my father’s hunting money—all handed over to the family—but we can’t even get a full meal! If I hadn’t fought back today, we might’ve been beaten to death! Can anyone live like this? We only ask to split from the family and take what rightfully belongs to us. What’s wrong with that?!”
Though frightened, Chen Zhiyi mustered his courage and added tearfully, “What Sister says is true… we’re always hungry, and there’s endless work… Father, take us away… I don’t want to live like this anymore… I’m so tired… so hungry…”
The more he spoke, the harder he cried.
Chen Zhiwei pulled him into her arms, and the two siblings wept together.
Their frail bodies stirred deep sympathy among the villagers. Simple rural folk could not stand seeing orphans bullied like this.
“Dashan’s family, Granny Liao—you’ve really gone too far.”
“That child’s skin and bones!”
“Let them split. At least they’ll have a chance to live.”
Public opinion quickly tilted toward Chen Zhiwei.
Liao Jinfeng trembled with rage but had no words to refute them. Chen Dashan flushed red with shame, wishing he could disappear into the ground.
Just then, a stern voice rang out:
“What’s going on here? Why is everyone gathered?”
The crowd parted as Village Chief Chen Fugen arrived with several clan elders. Someone had already gone to fetch him when things escalated.
Seeing him, Liao Jinfeng rushed forward like she’d found a savior. “Village Chief! You must stand up for us! Zhiwei has gone mad—she attacked her aunt and is now demanding to split the family! She’s trying to destroy us!”
Before he could question further, Chen Zhiwei stepped forward and dropped to her knees with a thud, tears streaming down her face.
“Village Chief, elders! It’s not that we want to cause trouble—we simply can’t survive like this anymore!”
She repeated everything she had just said, her voice breaking with emotion, and clearly stated her demand to separate from the family.
Village Chief Chen Fugen looked at the tearful yet composed girl, then at the emaciated Chen Zhiyi, and finally at the guilty-looking Liao Jinfeng and Chen Dashan. The truth was obvious.
He had long heard of Liao Jinfeng’s favoritism and mistreatment of the third branch’s orphans, but as it was a family matter, he hadn’t interfered. Now that things had escalated this far, it was time to settle it.
After a moment of thought, he turned to Liao Jinfeng. “Dashan’s mother—are the girl’s words true?”
Liao Jinfeng stammered, unable to lie outright under so many eyes.
The village chief sighed. “Since the children are determined to separate, forcing them to stay won’t help. By custom, what was left by the third branch should rightfully belong in part to Zhiwei and Zhiyi. What do you say…?”
“No!” Liao Jinfeng shrieked. “The land is the Chen family’s root! It cannot be divided!”
“Grandma,” Chen Zhiwei lifted her head, her eyes sharp, “if you refuse, then I’ll go to town every day—to my second uncle, to the local headman, even to the county office to beat the grievance drum! Let the entire county judge whether you’re seizing orphans’ property and abusing your own granddaughter! Then we’ll see if Cousin Zhiyuan can continue studying in town!”
That was a killing blow.
The one thing Liao Jinfeng cared about most was the future of her scholar grandson. If such a scandal spread, his reputation would be ruined.
Her face turned deathly pale. She pointed at Chen Zhiwei, lips trembling, but couldn’t utter a word.
In the end, under the witness of the village chief and clan elders—and faced with Chen Zhiwei’s threat to go down together—
They gave in.
The separation agreement was written on the spot.
Chen Zhiwei and Chen Zhiyi received two mu of mid-grade paddy land in the west of the village under their father’s name, along with an abandoned thatched hut near the village entrance—once used as a temporary shelter for guarding crops, barely livable. They were also given a small amount of grain and a few crude farming tools and utensils.
It was practically being cast out with nothing.
But no matter what—the family was finally divided.
Chen Zhiwei carefully put away the agreement, took her brother’s hand, and returned to their drafty side room. They quickly packed their pitiful belongings—no more than a small bundle.
When they stepped out of the Chen family gate, the setting sun bathed everything in warm light.
“Big Sister… where are we going?” Chen Zhiyi clutched her sleeve tightly, looking up with unease—but even more trust.
He secretly took out half a coarse corn bun, long hardened and darkened, and placed it into her hand.
“Sis, you eat. I’m not hungry.”
It was likely something he had saved little by little, hiding it away like a treasure.
Chen Zhiwei looked at the rough half bun in her palm, then at her brother’s clear, caring eyes.
Her nose stung.
Something deep inside her softened.
She gently placed the bun back into his hands, then tightly held his cold fingers. Her voice was firm yet tender like never before:
“Zhiyi, don’t be afraid. From now on, I will never let you go hungry again.”
“Come—your sister will take you to our home.”