After the family split up, my stepmother and scumbag father begged me to come home.

Lin Qianqian lay on the tattered straw mat, staring at the ceiling, with only one thought in her mind:

What kind of human suffering is this?

Lin Yulong was still crying next to her, calling out "Sister" between sobs. The guy next to him, named Huzi, was still muttering, "Good people are always blessed by heaven."

Lin Qianqian closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Fine.

Come here.

She opened her eyes and turned to look at the little boy who was crying his eyes out—nine years old, as thin as a stick, his face covered in wounds, and his eyes as red as a rabbit's.

This is her brother.

The only person in this dilapidated family who truly cared for her.

The little boy next to them, Ding Xiaohu, is from Aunt Ding's family next door. Aunt Ding's family treated them very well, and they often visited when Aunt Ding's mother was alive.

"Tiger, thank you for today, and thank you Aunt Ding too. It's getting late, you should go home now!" Lin Qianqian said.

"Okay, Sister Qianqian, if you need anything, just have Ah Long call me." Tiger said and left.

After Hu Zi left, Lin Qianqian raised her hand and patted Lin Yulong's head, her voice hoarse like a broken gong:

"Don't cry. I'm okay."

Lin Yulong was stunned, then burst into tears and buried his face in her arms.

Lin Qianqian winced in pain from the impact, but didn't push him away.

She patted his back, but her eyes were fixed on the broken window.

It was getting dark outside. I could vaguely make out the outline of the main house across the street—it was taller and bigger than this woodshed, and the windows were covered with new paper.

She narrowed her eyes.

Hitting a child, is that it?

wait.

Since she was already here, she had to avenge the original owner of this body.

Lin Qianqian leaned against the earthen wall of the woodshed, rubbing her throbbing temples as she thoroughly searched through the original memories of this body.

The original owner's name was Lin Qianqian, twelve years old this year, from Qingshui Village. Her father was Lin Guozhu, the second son of the Lin family. Her mother passed away five years ago, and before her body was even cold, her stepmother, Ding Yuxiang, entered the family with her daughter. That daughter was named Lin Yuanyuan, one year younger than the original owner and two years older than Lin Yulong.

From that day on, the original owner and her younger brother moved into the woodshed.

Two meals a day of thin porridge, so thin you could see your reflection in it. Beatings were commonplace, and verbal abuse was unthinkable. Ding Yuxiang's mouth was always ready with the most nasty things she could find—"bastard," "worthless," "unwanted"...

The original owner's father?

What a spineless coward.

He pretended not to see what he saw, and pretended not to hear what he heard. When Ding Yuxiang hit the child, he turned and walked away; when Ding Yuxiang scolded the child, he pretended to be deaf. If he had uttered a single word, the original owner and his younger brother wouldn't have lived a life worse than a dog.

Lin Qianqian went through the whole family's story.

The Lin family, the original owner's grandfather's family, had three sons and one daughter. The eldest son was Lin Guozhong, the second son was Lin Guozhu, the third son was Lin Guoan, and the youngest son was Lin Xiaohua. The old man also had a younger brother who lived in Qingshui Village. The original owner called him Second Grandfather, and his name was Lin Qingyuan. Second Grandfather's family had three sons and two daughters, and was quite prosperous.

This large family lived in a large courtyard. The main house belonged to the elderly couple, while the east and west wing rooms were given to the eldest and second sons. The second son, Lin Guozhu, lived in the west wing with his wife and children. The back room was given to the third son. After Ding Yuxiang entered the family, the original owner and her younger brother were relegated to the woodshed, and the two small rooms were given to Ding Yuxiang and her mother.

After sorting through all this, Lin Qianqian had a clear understanding of the situation.

It was already completely dark outside.

The gate creaked open; Lin Guozhu had returned.

After a day of farm work, he leaned his hoe against the wall, shook off the dirt, squatted down to knock the pebbles out of his shoes, and then straightened up and walked into the yard.