Zhao Widow’s mouth was more effective than a loudspeaker at the village entrance.
Before the sun had even climbed above the treetops, rumors that Su Wan had “gone to meet a man” spread like swarms of green-headed flies, buzzing through every corner of Lei Family Village.
“Did you hear? That wife from the Wang family who can’t have kids went out into the wild fields last night!”
“Really? She always looked so honest…”
“It was Zhao Widow who saw her! Said she came back with a flushed face and disheveled clothes. That can’t be wrong. You can’t judge a book by its cover—she probably acts pure on the outside but is actually shameless underneath.”
A group of women doing needlework chatted excitedly, spitting as they gossiped.
In a place with so little entertainment, news about a “loose wife” was more exciting than watching a movie.
By noon, the rumor reached Zhang Guifang.
Inside the Wang family’s main room:
Bang!
A coarse porcelain bowl smashed heavily on the ground, shattering into pieces.
Zhang Guifang trembled with rage, her wrinkled face shaking, her triangular eyes wide with fury.
“You disgraceful thing! You’ve ruined the reputation of our Wang family!”
She pointed directly at Su Wan, who was kneeling on the cold floor.
“Tell me! Who was that wild man? You came back so late last night, smelling strange! You shameless thing!”
Su Wan kept her head down, saying nothing.
Her fingers twisted tightly in her clothes until her knuckles turned white.
She had expected this, but hearing such filthy accusations still felt like needles stabbing her heart.
Yet the pain now carried less fear… and more numbness.
“Mom, calm down…”
Wang Dajun squatted at the door smoking, his face dark.
Even though he was useless, he still had a man’s fragile pride.
Being told his wife was cheating made him feel humiliated.
“Calm down? How am I supposed to calm down!” Zhang Guifang shouted. “You useless thing! You can’t even control your own wife! Now people are pointing fingers at us! What if Daniu hears about this and doesn’t want her anymore?!”
At the mention of Daniu, Wang Dajun suddenly stood up and strode over to Su Wan.
“Su Wan! Tell me! Is what Zhao Widow said true?”
He raised his hand as if to strike her, eyes bloodshot.
Su Wan looked up at him calmly.
No tears. No fear. Just an unusually cold calm.
“Dajun, do you really believe Zhao Widow’s words?” she said softly. “Don’t you know why she’s slandering me?”
Wang Dajun froze. “W-what do you mean?”
Su Wan gave a cold laugh, her eyes moving between him and Zhang Guifang.
“She’s jealous.”
“Jealous?” Zhang Guifang spat. “Of you? A barren hen?”
“She’s jealous that I have a man,” Su Wan said steadily.
She then fabricated a story, carefully watching their reactions.
“A few days ago, when I went to the well, she kept asking me about you. Said you’re strong, good at working, unlike her dead husband…”
As she spoke, Wang Dajun’s expression softened slightly, even showing a hint of pride.
Zhao Widow had a bad reputation, but many men secretly fancied her.
If she was really interested in him…
His vanity swelled instantly.
“She… she really said that?” he asked hesitantly.
“Would I lie?” Su Wan pressed on. “Last night I just went to the back hill to relieve myself, and I saw her hanging around our wall. If I really had a man, wouldn’t she have shouted and caught me already? She’s just angry she couldn’t get close to you, so she’s taking it out on me.”
Seven parts lie, three parts truth—but it hit exactly where it hurt.
Wang Dajun, who already had a coward’s pride, immediately believed most of it.
“Enough!” he snapped, waving his hand. “Stay inside from now on! Don’t go out and give people something to talk about! If there’s no crack, flies won’t land!”
To save face, he still slapped her.
Smack!
Not full force, but enough to make Su Wan’s face sting and her ears ring.
“Get back to your room! No food for the next two days! Think about what you’ve done!”
Su Wan covered her face, slowly stood up, and walked away in silence.
Su Wan didn’t cry.
That slap completely shattered the last bit of unrealistic hope she had for Wang Dajun.
She used to think that as long as she behaved well enough, even a stone could be warmed.
Now she understood—this was just a piece of filthy stone from a latrine: stinky, hard, and hopeless.
Su Wan turned and walked toward the woodshed, a self-mocking smile curling at the corner of her lips.
The Wang family was no longer her home.
It was just a cage she had to escape from.
Seeing that his son had hit his wife, Zhang Guifang’s anger eased slightly, but she was still unwilling to let it go.
She put her hands on her hips and marched to the gate, ready to start shouting insults.
“Which rotten-tongued gossiping bitch doesn’t fear karma—how dare you slander our Wang family…”
But before she could finish—
A deafening roar suddenly came from the alley entrance.
“Put-put-put-put-put—!”
The ground trembled.
A tractor spewing black smoke roared in like a charging iron beast.
The trailer was piled high with red bricks.
The driver was shirtless, a white towel hanging around his neck, wearing sunglasses, a cigarette in his mouth.
It was Lei Deshui.
He gripped the handlebar with one hand and shifted gears with the other, driving at full speed with no intention of slowing down.
Right in front of the Wang house was a pothole filled with muddy rainwater from a recent storm.
At that moment, Zhang Guifang stood right beside it, mouth open ready to curse.
Not far away, Zhao Widow stood against the wall eating sunflower seeds, waiting for the show.
Lei Deshui’s eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses, a mischievous grin forming.
In that instant, he yanked the steering wheel hard.
The wheel plunged straight into the puddle.
Splash——!
A massive wave of filthy black mud exploded outward like a bomb.
“Ah——!”
Two screams rang out at the same time.
Zhang Guifang was drenched head to toe, mud dripping into her mouth as she bent over gagging.
Zhao Widow wasn’t any better—her newly worn floral jacket was instantly ruined, and her powdered face turned into a muddy mask.
The tractor didn’t stop. Instead, it roared louder.
Lei Deshui braked sharply and stopped right in front of the Wang house, blocking the gate.
He slowly got off, removed his sunglasses, revealing a pair of fierce eyes.
He didn’t look at anyone else—only at the two drenched women.
“Oops, sorry about that. My hand slipped.”
His tone sounded apologetic, but his face showed no regret at all—only arrogance.
He walked up to them, his tall frame casting a heavy shadow, full of pressure.
“Auntie, sister-in-law—what are you doing standing by the roadside in broad daylight? Practicing your voices?”
He flicked cigarette ash casually. A spark almost landed on Zhao Widow’s face, making her flinch backward.
In Lei Family Village, who would dare provoke Lei Deshui?
This man was known for throwing bricks at people without hesitation.
“Lei… Brother Lei, how are you even driving this…” Zhao Widow stammered, her voice shaking.
“How am I driving it?”
He let out a cold laugh, scanning the villagers peeking out to watch, then fixed his gaze on Zhao Widow.
“The road’s uneven, so the ride’s bumpy. But when a person’s heart is uneven, their mouth becomes cheap.”
He crushed the cigarette butt under his foot as if stamping out a bug.
“I’ve got a bad temper. I can’t stand baseless gossip.”
His voice wasn’t loud—but it made people’s bones feel cold.
“If I hear anyone spreading nonsense again…”
He pointed at the truckload of red bricks behind him, his eyes turning sharp and vicious.
“A long tongue can easily trip you up.”
“Next time, these bricks won’t be used to build houses.”
“They might just end up dumped right in your house—on your bed.”