Old Mrs. Song is reborn; get out of here, you scumbag husband and illegitimate child!

Song Xianglan carried the snakeskin bag in her hand to the old lady next door and casually took out a packet of dried female squid from it.

"Sister, have a taste of this. It's good stuff, stewed with pig's feet and pork bones, it's very nourishing. I think your granddaughter-in-law is about to give birth, right? Keep it to help her recover."

"We'll leave this burlap sack with you. We'll come back for it later."

The old lady had only pointed casually.

I never expected to actually benefit from this.

She took the mother squid, smelled it, and thought it was a good thing.

Stewed pig's feet are a nourishing food during postpartum confinement.

"Oh, you're too kind, young lady!" The old lady smiled, her face crinkling with wrinkles. "Your things won't get lost if you leave them here! Go ahead and do your business."

Settle your belongings.

Song Xianglan patted the dust off her hands.

He grabbed Song Xiangmei, who was still trying to be polite, and pulled her away.

"Third Sister, where are we going now?"

"Let's go see my second brother-in-law." Song Xianglan ran like the wind, heading straight for the scrap metal recycling station.

We arrived at the entrance of the purchasing station.

A musty smell mixed with the sour odor of fermentation wafted over me.

The courtyard was piled high with waste cardboard boxes, rusty iron frames, cabinets...

My second sister's husband, Old Tang, was holding an enamel teacup.

He was bragging to two colleagues.

Spit flew everywhere.

He talked about the treatment he received when he visited his wife's family.

Song Xianglan strode over.

Without saying hello, he just stood next to the big scale.

He sneered:

"Second brother-in-law, you're living a pretty comfortable life. We were being called beggars by your daughter-in-law at your doorstep, and she even threatened to set the dogs on us. And you're all relaxed, even having the leisure to drink tea?"

"Even poor relatives have to be severed from?"

Old Tang almost choked on a mouthful of tea.

He's very concerned about saving face.

He always boasts at work about how harmonious his family life is, and he's a very particular person.

Besides, it wouldn't do to not acknowledge relatives. Every year when he and Song Xianghe went back to the countryside, they would gather a lot of sweet potatoes, rice, noodles, vegetables, seafood, eggs, and so on, and bring them back.

Upon hearing this...

The two colleagues around him immediately gave him strange looks.

He glanced this way with a hint of mockery.

"Third...Third sister? Eldest sister?"

Old Tang's face turned a deep liver color.

"What do you mean? Qian Hong just had a loose tongue. Don't take it to heart. I'll give her a piece of my mind when we get back."

"Immature? I think she's far too mature."

Song Xianglan's voice rose two octaves.

"They look down on our poor rural relatives, fearing they'll dirty your land."

"Fine, since you're so disgusted by this, then let's sever all ties! It'll save us 'beggars' from embarrassing you city folks."

Old Tang was so anxious that sweat was pouring down his forehead.

This is so embarrassing!

"No, no, no! We're all family, no need for formalities." Old Tang said with a smile, while giving Song Xiangmei a meaningful look, hoping that this soft-hearted older sister would say something.

Song Xiangmei was about to open her mouth.

He was immediately glared at by Song Xianglan.

Stop trying to smooth things over.

Song Xianglan turned her head and stared at Old Tang.

"Second brother-in-law, I'm not an unreasonable person. Qian Hong's insults were awful, and I'm just angry about it."

I'll stop scolding you now that you're so old, if I keep yelling at you to move to your ancestral graveyard early.

I'll just wander around this station and see if I can pick up some scraps that others don't want, so that I can live up to your daughter-in-law's description of me as a "scrap collector."

Old Tang looked embarrassed.

People say they are junk collectors.

As long as you don't bother him.

This is an incredibly good thing.

Old Tang quickly went along with it.

Pointing to the mountain of scrap.

"These are all discarded by city dwellers. Some can still be used after some repairs. I know the conditions in your countryside are like that, lacking things here and there. Take whatever you like, it'll be on my tab."

A pile of scrap paper and junk worth only a few cents.

We got rid of this plague.

Song Xianglan's expression softened, revealing a petty bourgeois look of someone who had gotten a good deal.

The change of expression is faster than turning the pages of a book:

"That's right! I knew my brother-in-law was generous and a respectable person. I'll buy what I want myself; you don't need to spend money to buy it for me."

She pulled a handful of homemade peanut brittle from her pocket.

He handed some to two colleagues who were watching the commotion, saying, "Everyone, have a taste. These things from the countryside aren't worth much, it's just a token of my appreciation. My brother-in-law has always been well taken care of by you guys."

The two colleagues took the candy.

A soft mouth and short hands.

She smiled and said to Lao Tang, "Lao Tang, your sister-in-law knows how to handle things."

Old Tang wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.

They finally managed to save face.

"Take your time picking, I'll go find you a big sack." Old Tang turned and went to the storeroom.

Song Xianglan pulled the scarf up.

He covered his mouth and nose and plunged into the "mountain of garbage".

Song Xiangmei followed behind.

He frowned in disdain.

"Third Sister, are we really going to collect scraps? What if Second Sister finds out..."

"Shut up and stay close."

Song Xianglan's voice was muffled by her scarf, but her eyes scanned the pile of dusty things like radar.

She walked up to a wooden cabinet with a broken leg.

Pulling open the long-neglected cabinet, a wooden box fell out from a hidden compartment.

There was a large patch of dried paint stuck to the box.

Song Xianglan squatted down.

Using his body to block the view.

His fingers flew as he pried open the box lid.

That instant.

Her heart skipped a beat.

The box was lined with rotten cotton wool.

There was a pair of gleaming gold bracelets underneath, and a pair of jade bracelets with excellent translucency.

This is probably something that was confiscated from some store.

It went unnoticed in the interlayer.

Song Xianglan moved with lightning speed, grabbing the two pairs of bracelets and stuffing them into the innermost hidden pocket of her cotton-padded jacket. Then she haphazardly spread out the tattered cotton wadding and closed the lid.

She stood up, picked up the wooden box and weighed it in her hand, then tucked the hem of her shirt into her waistband and tightened her belt.

"Big sister, come here."

Song Xianglan called out, holding the empty box in her hand, and then pointed to a dusty old armchair next to her.

"This chair is nice; it looks sturdy."

Song Xiangmei glanced at it and said, "The paint is all chipped off. It looks like something a dead person would sit on. Don't we have a stool at home?"

"You don't know anything."

Song Xianglan rolled her eyes and lowered her voice, "That's made of sandalwood. This set of chairs could be exchanged for a house someday."

Song Xiangmei shuddered in fright.

I almost fell to the ground.

Song Xianglan ignored her.

Keep digging.

She felt a dark, wooden lump at the bottom of a broken box; it was an agarwood ornament.

She looked around.

Seeing that no one was paying attention, he simply stuffed it into his arms.

This blockade.

His flat chest was bulging, looking like he had a tumor.

"This...this is way too obvious."

Song Xiangmei muttered to herself.

"What's there to be afraid of? I'm wearing thick clothes in winter, so I'll just say I'm naturally well-endowed," Song Xianglan said confidently.

She wandered around inside for half an hour, stuffing her treasure into her arms and trouser legs.

Even Song Xiangmei's arms were stuffed with all sorts of strange things.

When it was time to pay the bill.

The two of them were noticeably heavier than when they went in.

Song Xianglan pointed to that pile of things:

A wooden box, a set of old furniture, a porcelain bottle that looks cracked, and a few tattered thread-bound books.

"Second brother-in-law, that's all."

Old Tang's colleague came over and glanced at the wooden box.

"What do you need this broken box for? It's not even good enough to burn as firewood. You can have it."

"I'm making hair ties for my daughter." Song Xianglan said with a simple and honest expression, "Things in the city are really good; this wood looks sturdy. I can't give it to her as a gift; I have to pay for it, it's the thought that counts."

"Take this for a penny." The colleague waved his hand.

Song Xianglan was overjoyed.

This is a box made of red sandalwood!

Old Tang looked at the pile of junk and pointed at the few books, laughing.

"Third sister, I can understand you taking that furniture, but you want these tattered books too? They look like old medical books, which are feudal superstitions, and you wouldn't understand them anyway."

Song Xianglan hugged the book to her chest.

Those were a few rare books from the Tang Dynasty.

"A book is a book. My daughter is going to take the college entrance exam, so I'm saving them for her. Whether they're medical books or whatever, having them at home will allow her to absorb some of the scholarly atmosphere, and who knows, she might get into a good university."

Song Xianglan stiffened her neck.

He portrayed that uncultured, brash nature perfectly.

The people around him burst into laughter.

"Alright, alright, let's absorb some literary flair."

Old Tang laughed until his stomach hurt, thinking his rural relative was really ignorant. "These books are free, they're yours."

"No, we must calculate the cost."

The final accounts will be settled.

That set of rosewood furniture, the "flawed" porcelain vase from the Ming Dynasty imperial kiln, the small-leaf rosewood box, and those few rare books cost a total of twenty yuan.

The main problem is that the furniture set takes up too much space.

I calculated the price of the larger items.

Song Xianglan readily paid the money without even haggling over the price.

"I'll find a cart to haul the furniture over tomorrow, but I'll take these odds and ends with me first," Song Xianglan said, shoving the porcelain vase into her older sister's arms. "Hold on tight."

Old Tang saw that they had lots of bags and packages.

"Your second sister is home too. You should go back first, and your nephew can sleep on the floor tonight."

In truth, he was unwilling a thousand times over.

Two rural women squeezed into such a small house, and the smell lingered for three days.

Then there will be more arguments at home.

Song Xianglan could easily see through his intentions.

Moreover, with a gold bracelet and sandalwood in her pocket, going to his house would be like a lamb entering a tiger's den.

Song Xianglan tied her scarf to cover the bulge in her arms.

"We have a fellow villager in the city, and we've already arranged to visit her. Brother-in-law, let's put our things away first before we go to see my sister."

Old Tang felt like he'd been granted a pardon and quickly nodded, "I'll definitely go. I'll buy some pig's head meat later."

Song Xianglan pulled Song Xiangmei along.

The two of them, like thieves, quickly walked out of the scrap yard with their heads down.

Unexpected wealth all comes from taking advantage of others.

We walked a long way.

I slipped into an empty alley.

Song Xianglan finally breathed a sigh of relief, reached out and pressed the hard agarwood in her chest, and couldn't help but smile.

This trip has been a success.