Wang Siyu could certainly sense the shift in how Li Qing’e and Lu Lin viewed her.
All these years, she’d spared no effort to finally secure her footing in the Lu family.
And now, that wretched woman Song Qinghuan had ruined everything.
Wang Siyu glanced quietly toward the Song family’s direction, her chest tight with grievance.
Everything that had happened today replayed in her mind, souring her mood completely.
She’d never imagined that her greatest skill — playing the helpless victim — would have absolutely no effect on Song Qinghuan.
Worse still, that lowly hussy had actually dared to lay a hand on her!
She raised a hand to cup her cheek; it still burned hot, stinging sharply, filled with both embarrassment and humiliation.
Yet on second thought, today hadn’t been a total loss.
Song Qinghuan and Lu Qiming had fallen out so badly their engagement was thoroughly finished.
As long as Lu Qiming didn’t bring Song Qinghuan into this house, she’d take whatever came her way.
Lu Qiming, too, was clearly in a foul mood. He walked ahead alone, silent and withdrawn.
Seizing the moment when no one was paying attention, Wang Siyu lifted her eyes and boldly drank in his tall, upright figure.
Blessed with the Lu family’s fine genes, Lu Qiming was strikingly handsome.
The clean line of his profile was almost too perfect; his gentle, reserved gaze made her heart race the moment she looked at him.
But what Wang Siyu admired most was his straight, noble nose.
She’d never known it firsthand, but hadn’t everyone whispered the same thing?
A man with such a prominent nose was bound to be exceptional in every way.
The thought made her burn with shame, and she quickly pressed both hands to her heated cheeks — yet the longing in her eyes was impossible to hide.
A man this fine would never belong to anyone else, not if she had anything to say about it.
Wang Siyu knew her position here was delicate. To win him, she had to stay calm and patient.
Usually she kept her composure well — only Song Qinghuan had ever made her lose her cool.
Perhaps because of the engagement, Song Qinghuan had always made her feel threatened.
She had a son, and the pension from her late husband would never be enough to live well. Her in-laws would never give her money; they’d only see that she and the boy didn’t starve.
If she wanted a comfortable life, she’d have to rely on Lu Qiming’s salary to support them.
Thankfully, Lu Qiming had promised with his own lips that he would never abandon her or her child.
Her only real obstacle — Song Qinghuan — was now gone for good. She could finally breathe easy.
Having sorted through her thoughts, Wang Siyu felt much lighter. She brushed aside Li Qing’e’s coldness toward her over the course of the day, stepped forward to slip her arm through her mother-in-law’s, and spoke with a bright smile.
“After everything that happened today, you and Father must be exhausted. Let me handle all the cooking once we get home.”
Lu Qiming frowned, about to say that her health was poor and she shouldn’t be doing such work — but he held his tongue, afraid it would only upset Li Qing’e and Lu Lin. He simply pretended not to have heard.
“That would be appreciated,” Li Qing’e replied grudgingly, for her son’s sake, though her head throbbed with worry.
If word got out that the engagement between their families had fallen apart, they’d be the laughingstock of the whole town. But after the disgraceful display today, she would never lower herself to beg Song Qinghuan for another chance. A daughter-in-law with no respect for rules was something she could never accept!
Hidden around the corner of the alley, a figure watched it all unfold.
Song Qiuya had heard this was the day Song Qinghuan and Lu Qiming would finalize their wedding plans, and had come to stake out the spot. She’d waited ages for the Lu family to emerge, then followed quietly, straining to hear every word.
At once she saw that Li Qing’e and Lu Lin were clearly unhappy with how things had turned out — and a heavy weight lifted from her heart.
“I’d thought I’d come back too late, that I’d never fix any of this,” she murmured to herself.
“Thank goodness Song Qinghuan is so useless. She managed to ruin such a fine match… and that leaves the door open for me.”
In her past life, it had taken Song Qiuya two full years to learn the truth of her birth. Only then did she discover that the engagement meant for her had been snatched away by that little wretch Song Qinghuan.
The thought of all the ease and status she’d been so close to losing filled her with bitter rage. That very night, she’d gone with her adoptive parents to confront them, hoping to turn the tide and claim what was hers.
But Lu Qiming had never cared for Song Qinghuan — so naturally he would never look twice at a country girl like her. No matter how loud she shouted or how much she made a scene, the outcome was set. Song Qinghuan married Lu Qiming, and nothing changed.
Defeated and humiliated, Song Qiuya slunk back home, blaming her adoptive parents for everything. She was certain her miserable life was all their fault — for taking her away from the Song family all those years ago. If they hadn’t, she would be the one married to Lu Qiming, living as a respected daughter-in-law of the Lu family!
Broken by this, she gave up on bettering herself. In a moment of blind anger, she married He Junbo, a lazy ne’er-do-well who loitered around the alleys. She’d told herself: if Song Qinghuan could build a good life through marriage, so could I.
Not long after the wedding, He Junbo said he wanted to move back to the countryside to “make something of himself.” Unwilling to be parted from him, she’d eagerly agreed to go along.
But there was no peaceful country life waiting for her. Instead, she learned exactly what kind of man He Junbo really was.
He was no good match — he was nothing but a brute.
He was abusive, idle, and refused to find work. He spent his days wandering aimlessly, drinking away what little they had. The family’s fields lay overgrown and neglected, and every chore and every bit of farm labor fell entirely on her shoulders.
She lived in a crumbling mud hut, worn down by endless toil. It was a life far worse than the one she’d known in the city with her adoptive parents.
She was beside herself with fury. One night, after He Junbo stumbled home dead drunk, she could take no more. She threw her apron at his chest.
“When we married, you swore you’d give me a good life! And look at us now — you won’t work, and we can barely put food on the table! I’m done with this, He Junbo. I want a divorce. I’m going back to my parents’ home!”