“Oh heavens, what are we going to do? I won’t be able to hold my head up ever again!”
Sun Xiuhe beat her chest and stamped her feet, complaining endlessly. Just thinking about the ten taels of betrothal silver that would soon be taken back felt like flesh being cut from her body.
“I told you, raising girls is just a loss!”
“Old man, you’ve got to think of something…”
Before she could finish, the wooden door was suddenly kicked open with a loud bang.
A drenched young girl stood there, covered in pond weeds and mud, her bright eyes blazing with anger.
“You old ‘loss’! If you can’t hold your head up, then stick it between your legs—what’s the big deal!”
Sun Xiuhe stared at the bedraggled girl in disbelief, her finger trembling and lips quivering. “Song Zhaodi, have you lost your mind?!”
She rolled up her sleeves, about to rush forward, but halfway there she remembered Song Dachuan was present, and immediately switched to a pitiful expression.
“Old man, look at her—this girl has gone completely out of control!”
Song Dachuan was also stunned by Song Zhaodi’s outburst. Only when Sun Xiuhe called out did he snap back to his senses, putting on the airs of the family patriarch as he frowned and scolded:
“Zhaodi, is that any way to speak to your grandmother?”
In the past, whenever Song Dachuan frowned, Song Zhaodi would lower her head. Even when she wasn’t at fault, she would swallow her grievances under the pressure.
But today’s Song Zhaodi did not act as they expected. She looked straight at the biased Song Dachuan, standing tall without a trace of fear.
“Why don’t you ask her how she spoke first?”
Sun Xiuhe immediately bristled, craning her neck and shouting, “After the shameful thing you did, people aren’t even allowed to talk about it?”
Song Zhaodi’s gaze turned sharp as she shot back, “What does anything I did have to do with you?”
As soon as she finished, Sun Xiuhe yelled, “I’m your grandmother! You were soaking wet, clinging to another man, letting him hug and carry you—how is that not my business?!”
Song Dachuan, who had still been somewhat confused, finally seemed to understand upon hearing “another man” and “hugging and carrying.” His expression instantly darkened.
Earlier, he had been working in the fields. When he came back for water, Sun Xiuhe told him that the in-laws wanted to break off the engagement and reclaim the ten taels of betrothal money.
He hadn’t even had time to ask why before Song Zhaodi appeared. Now, hearing Sun Xiuhe’s explanation, Song Dachuan—who cared deeply about his reputation—looked stormy.
The way he looked at Song Zhaodi was as if she were a disgrace to the family.
But that expression didn’t last long. After hearing Song Zhaodi’s rebuttal, his face changed again.
Song Zhaodi let out a cold snort. “And you still dare say you’re my grandmother? You watched me fall into the water, not only did you not call for help, you even stopped others from saving me. What exactly are you plotting?”
“Are you trying to wipe out the last bit of bloodline left by my real grandmother?”
Sun Xiuhe was Song Dachuan’s second wife. She had married into the family with a son when Song Zhaodi’s father, Song Yaodong, was twelve.
In front of Song Dachuan, she always pretended to be fair and kind. Hearing Song Zhaodi’s accusation, she felt guilty but still tried to argue.
“Y-you’re twisting the truth!”
“Old man, you can’t listen to her nonsense. You’ve seen how I treat them all these years.”
In front of Song Dachuan, as a stepmother and step-grandmother, she always appeared impartial—though she was much harsher on Song Yaodong’s three daughters.
As she often said, it was for the sake of the Song family’s reputation. Even girls, when they went out, represented the family’s face.
Being strict wouldn’t hurt.
Thinking of this, the slight doubt in Song Dachuan’s eyes toward Sun Xiuhe disappeared.
He cared more than anything about saving face and didn’t want others to laugh at them, so he had no desire to let the argument continue.
“Enough! Both of you, stop talking!”
Not a single word of concern—only a desire to smooth things over.
With the authority of the head of the household, he spoke sternly and then walked off with his hands behind his back to scoop water.
From the original owner’s memories, this grandfather wasn’t unaware of Sun Xiuhe’s two-faced behavior, but he always chose to turn a blind eye.
He preferred to “keep the peace.”
In his words, families inevitably had conflicts; each side should take a step back and not let outsiders laugh at them.
Face was everything.
But every time, the ones who had to give in were always Song Zhaodi and her two sisters.
Simply because they were girls—worth less than boys.
So Song Zhaodi had never expected Song Dachuan to stand up for her, nor did she feel disappointed or hurt by his bias.
But someone else wasn’t willing to let it go so easily.
Sun Xiuhe had always been arrogant—when had she ever suffered like this? Burning with anger, she followed Song Dachuan and whispered in his ear, fanning the flames.
At first, Song Dachuan frowned in disapproval. But when he heard, “That ten taels has already been spent on Yaizu’s tuition—how can we possibly pay it back?” he relented.
Inside the room, sunlight streamed through a hole in the roof, shining on Song Zhaodi’s head. She looked at the chipped basin on the ground, half-filled with rainwater, and sighed.
This family she had transmigrated into was truly poor!
In her previous life, she had worked hard to keep her father’s restaurant afloat, enduring difficult customers and exclusion from competitors, yet she still treated others kindly.
One day, she saw a pregnant woman jumping into a river. Unable to bear it, she tried to save her—only to be dragged under and drowned by the very woman she tried to rescue.
The King of Hell said her merits were complete and granted her a new life.
But she hadn’t expected to inherit such a mess.
Memories of the original owner flooded in. Song Xingchen—no, the reborn Song Zhaodi—felt she hadn’t gone far enough earlier; Sun Xiuhe had gotten off too lightly.
She reached toward the wardrobe with no door, trying to find a change of clothes. The moment her hand touched a garment, words suddenly appeared before her eyes:
“Coarse cloth cross-collar short jacket. Women’s outerwear.”
Song Zhaodi froze, her heart pounding wildly with excitement and anticipation. She reached toward an unknown plant in the corner.
More words appeared:
“Purslane. A medicinal and edible plant. Rich in nutrients. Its tender stems, leaves, and flowers are all edible. A healthy vegetable—can be made into cold dishes or stir-fried. Preparation methods as follows… Note: those with spleen deficiency, loose stools, and pregnant women should avoid it. Do not consume with turtle shell.”
Her hand could actually identify objects—this had to be her golden finger!
To test it, she rushed outside, grabbed some shepherd’s purse from a basket, and held it in her hand.
Again, text appeared:
“Wild shepherd’s purse. A plant used both as food and medicine. Medicinal effects include diuresis, stopping bleeding, clearing heat, and improving eyesight. Also an edible wild vegetable—can be stir-fried, made into cold dishes, or used as dumpling filling… Preparation methods as follows… Contraindications: those with loose stools should eat with caution; people with weak digestion, menstruating women, and pregnant women should avoid it.”
So detailed—it was practically an encyclopedia.
Just when things seemed darkest, a glimmer of hope appeared. The King of Hell really hadn’t lied to her.
Since she was already here and couldn’t go back, she might as well live well and comfortably in this life.
With this golden finger, there was hope for the future.
At that moment, a shadow approached.
Sun Xiuhe forced a flattering smile, while Song Zhaodi narrowed her eyes in vigilance.
“Zhaodi… I’m sorry. I spoke too harshly just now…”
Song Zhaodi raised her hand to stop her. “If you’re sorry, then don’t do things that wrong me in the future.”
Sun Xiuhe choked, then said, “But what about the ten taels? Where is our family supposed to get the money to repay it?”
“Lin Yong may be foolish, but his family is wealthy. The Lin family is one of the richest around here. If you marry into them, you won’t suffer.”
“You’re pretty—just coax Lin Yong a bit, and this will all blow over.”
As expected, nothing good was behind her words.
Song Zhaodi grabbed the mud from her hair and flung it straight onto Sun Xiuhe’s face, shutting her up.
Then she spat twice in anger.
“Debts have their owners—whoever spent the money should pay it back. If not, you can make up for it yourself. Don’t carry your regrets to the grave!”