Sold into a ghost marriage? Four-year-old and his thuggish father go on a killing spree.

"Leave with nothing."

When Wang Guifang slammed those four words on the table, her tone was as cold as a bowl of leftover rice that had gone completely cold.

"You can have it divided—the house was built by your father and me, the land was allocated to this 'household' by the government, and the grain was earned through the sweat of the whole family. You, Gu Yanqiu, are just going to leave with a little girl all by yourself? Fine. Go. Close the door and don't look back."

She slapped her knee with one hand, making a "smack" sound.

"Don't even think about taking a single grain of rice with you."

The main room fell silent for a moment.

Cheng Tiezhu's pen stopped on the red paper and fell.

His brows were furrowed—he had seen this kind of division before.

The drama of a wicked mother-in-law driving her son away has been staged three times in Chengjiawan over the past ten years.

Every single one is the same—the phrase "leaving with nothing" drives people to the brink of despair.

Gu Yanchun stood to the side, hands in his pockets, saying nothing—but his silence was a form of support.

Sun Xiufen lowered her head, glancing out from between her eyes—her lips twitched slightly.

They are waiting for Gu Yanqiu to compete.

He's getting impatient.

Wait for him to ask.

As soon as he asked, the initiative returned to Wang Guifang's hands.

Gu Yanqiu did not make a request.

He sat on a stool, his two calloused hands resting on his knees.

Remaining silent.

But another voice rang out beside him.

"Grandma, I don't understand the rules for dividing the family property."

Niannian slid off the stool and stood in front of the square table.

A four-and-a-half-year-old girl.

His head barely reached the edge of the table.

The frostbite on his face had not yet faded, leaving a purplish-red mark.

The cuffs of the cotton-padded jacket were worn out and had holes.

But those eyes—in the sunlight streaming through the window—shone as brightly as a freshly sharpened knife.

Everyone in the room looked at her.

But I know one thing—

Her voice was not loud.

Speaks clearly.

Say it one word at a time—

"My father worked at home from a young age. He carried water, chopped firewood, worked in the fields, fed pigs, he did everything. As Aunt Wang said, my father could carry a 100-pound load for five miles when he was twelve years old."

She paused for a moment.

"My uncle stopped working after finishing elementary school—he became the militia captain and spent all his time in meetings. My dad and grandpa did most of the work in the fields."

Gu Yanchun's expression changed.

"What do you, a little kid, know?"

"I don't understand," Niannian interjected. "But I can calculate."

She looked at Cheng Tiezhu.

"Uncle Cheng, if we divide it according to 'contribution'—whoever does more work gets more—my uncle should get less, and my dad should get more."

Cheng Tiezhu twirled the pen between his fingers.

He did not interrupt.

"If it's divided equally—my grandfather had three sons, each getting one-third—my father should get one-third of the house, one-third of the land, and one-third of the grain."

She gestured with her fingers on the edge of the table—three fingers held up.

"Regardless of the algorithm—"

She turned her head and looked at Wang Guifang.

"Leaving with nothing is simply unacceptable."

-

The main room was so quiet that you could hear the wind outside the window.

Grandpa Cheng and Uncle Zhang exchanged a glance—the two old men, whose combined age was nearly 120, had seen all sorts of scenes at family division meetings in the countryside.

But a four-and-a-half-year-old girl—standing in front of the square table at the brigade headquarters—explained the reasons for dividing the family property more clearly than the adults—

This one.

never seen it.

Cheng Tiezhu put down his pen.

He looked at Niannian—for two seconds.

Then he turned his head and looked at Wang Guifang.

"Sister-in-law. Did you hear what the child said?"

Wang Guifang's mouth was open.

It won't close.

She was rebuked—rebuked by a four-and-a-half-year-old girl—and the rebuke was spot-on, without a single typo.

"You, you—" she pointed at Niannian, her finger trembling, "A little kid like you, who taught you all this? Your father?!"

"Nobody taught me," Niannian said flatly. "I figured it out myself."

"nonsense--"

"mom!"

Gu Yanchun suddenly spoke.

His voice sounded a little hurried.

It wasn't that they were defending Wang Guifang—they were stopping her.

He figured it out.

If they keep arguing, they'll be the ones who suffer.

A four-and-a-half-year-old child uttered a reasoning that left all the respected elders in the village speechless.

If Wang Guifang continues to pester him, it will only make things look worse.

"Uncle Tiezhu," Gu Yanchun said, his tone much calmer. "We don't disagree with the division of the family property. But we also need to consider the actual situation—the second son is still in training school. If he's separated, the family will have one less laborer. The private plot of land, the house, and the food—these are all limited. Let's compromise—we can give up what we can."

That's a well-said statement.

They took a step back—but it was just words, not real benefits.

Cheng Tiezhu knew exactly what was going on.

But he also knew that in the countryside in 1964, dividing a family property could never be absolutely fair.

To be able to rise above the level of "leaving with nothing" is already a matter of life and death.

He began to discuss each point one by one.

-

They talked for the entire afternoon.

house--

Wang Guifang refused to budge.

"The main room is mine. The east wing belongs to the eldest son. The west wing..."

The west wing was half-collapsed years ago and is now filled with miscellaneous items.

"This dilapidated hut isn't a house—it's a woodshed. Want to live here? Sure. Take it."

She threw out the dilapidated house where Niannian and Gu Yanqiu had lived.

A dilapidated house—a woodshed—whatever it's called, it leaks wind and rain, and is bitterly cold in winter.

But it is independent.

After the property is separated—once the door is closed, it becomes your own home.

land--

The collective work points allocated by the government to each household cannot be touched—that belongs to the production team.

The private plot is calculated per capita – the Gu family has six members (Wang Guifang, Gu Dehou, and Gu Yanchun are three people, plus Gu Yanqiu's household registration if it is not separated).

A total of 1.2 mu of private land.

Dividing the land equally among the six family members, Gu Yanqiu and Niannian should each receive four-tenths of the land.

But Wang Guifang insisted on giving only half a mu – “not a penny more.”

Cheng Tiezhu did the math—half an acre, which was a little more than the four-tenths of an acre he was entitled to.

It looks like an extra plot of land, but that extra plot is on a hillside and is a barren piece of land that can't grow any good crops.

food--

Wang Guifang's original words: "The grain in the family must be saved for the spring famine - fifty catties were distributed, no more than that."

Fifty catties of grain.

An adult and a four-and-a-half-year-old child.

If you eat sparingly, it will last for a little over a month.

Without saving—it could be as risky as half a month.

Pots, pans, and bowls

A pot, two bowls, a shovel, and an old quilt.

Niannian sat on the stool and went through these things in her mind.

Is it too little?

less.

Is that unfair?

unfair.

But—that's enough.

Enough to survive.

She glanced at her father.

Gu Yanqiu remained silent for a while. His calloused hands clenched and unclenched.

"OK."

He only said one word.

Cheng Tiezhu wrote down each item on the red paper one by one.

After finishing writing, I put down the brush.

"Both parties signed and sealed the document."

Wang Guifang pressed her handprint on the red paper with trembling hands.

Gu Yanqiu signed his name.

Gu Dehou didn't move.

"Uncle Gu—" Accountant Sun reminded him.

The old man walked to the table.

I picked up the pen—my hand was shaking.

He wrote two words in a crooked and messy manner.

Gu Dehou.

After he finished writing, he put down his pen.

He turned and walked out.

I stopped at the door.

There was no turning back.

But Nian Nian saw—the old man's shoulder twitched.

It's like something that's been weighing on for a long time has finally been unloaded.

It was like something else pressing down on it.

-

The family division agreement has been signed.

Cheng Tiezhu folded the red paper and put it into the tin cabinet at the brigade headquarters.

Starting today—

Gu Yanqiu and Gu Niannian are no longer members of the "Gu Family Compound".

They now have their own home.

A dilapidated house.

Half an acre of barren land.

Fifty catties of grain.

A pot.

As Niannian followed Gu Yanqiu out of the brigade headquarters, the sun was setting in the west.

She glanced back at the room—Cheng Tiezhu stood in the doorway and nodded slightly to her.

Niannian also nodded.

Then she turned her head—

On the road ahead, the setting sun cast long, long shadows of her and her father.

One big and one small.

Connected together.

It's like we can never be separated.

But moving out is only the first step.

Fifty catties of grain—

How long can it last?