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

The farce at the Zhou family had just ended.

The festive atmosphere in the Song family courtyard was not diminished in the slightest; on the contrary, it became even stronger.

The main hall door was wide open.

Song Xiangdong stood in front of the table, holding a large wolf-hair brush in his hand, his wrist suspended in the air, the brush tip moving across the cut red paper.

Each character is large, black, and glossy.

Shen Huijun's eyes widened in disbelief.

In the days since they got married, all she knew was that her husband was a rough, strong, and caring man.

I never expected him to have this amazing skill.

"Xiang Dong, your handwriting... has it been practiced?"

Shen Huijun couldn't help but reach out to touch the ink stain that wasn't completely dry.

His eyes were full of admiration.

Seeing her sister-in-law's naive and unsophisticated expression, Song Tingting chuckled.

"Sister-in-law, you have no idea. When my brother was a child, he was very close to that old scholar at the end of the village."

That old scholar died young. He was a frighteningly ugly man. If you stretched out the wrinkles on his face, they would be two meters long, like old tree bark, covered with age spots.

The children in the village were all afraid of him.

My brother wasn't afraid; he went to fetch water and chop wood for him every day. That's when he learned to write.

Song Tingting heard it from others, after all, her brother was more than ten years younger than her.

Shen Huijun was stunned for a moment, and when she looked at Song Xiangdong's resolute profile, her heart warmed even more.

This man is thoughtful and sentimental.

Huang Ronghua rushed in, carrying two pieces of red paper:

"Xiangdong, write two more for me! And they should say 'the livestock prosper'."

Before long, Lin Gang from next door also came over, and even Liu Yukun lined up behind with red paper in hand. The courtyard was filled with laughter and chatter, until an ominous figure appeared at the door.

Yang Jianjun stood there with his neck hunched over.

He was wearing a military overcoat, which Song Xiangdong had sent back from the army a few years ago. Now, a large smoke hole had been burned into the thick material, revealing the cotton wadding inside.

The cuffs were worn and frayed, stained with oil and twisted, making him look even dirtier than the village guards.

Song Tingting was facing the door, and her smile instantly froze on her face.

"Bad luck, the beggars are here."

Upon hearing this, Yang Jianjun almost lost his fawning smile.

But knowing there wasn't a single morsel of meat or oil in the house, I forced a smile.

"Little sister, your second brother is back. Your eldest brother has come to see you."

Song Xiangdong's pen didn't stop; he finished with the last stroke of the character "福" (fortune), the force penetrating the paper.

He straightened up, his eyes piercing like two icicles.

Looking at Yang Jianjun's face, I just feel disgusted.

That was a bastard child, proof that her mother had been betrayed by Yang Dashan.

Song Xianglan came out of the kitchen, holding a bunch of scallions in her hand.

Upon seeing Yang Jianjun, her expression instantly turned cold.

"Yang Jianjun, today is New Year's Eve, I don't want to see blood. Get out."

Yang Jianjun trembled at the shout.

My nose tingled, and tears actually started to fall.

"Mom...we're mother and son after all. You can't just live a good life for yourself and ignore your eldest son's life or death."

Even if you've raised a dog for so many years, you can't just abandon it. Let me go home for the New Year; the house is cold and empty..."

He now knows how wonderful it was to be with Song Xianglan.

"I think you're a weasel paying respects to a chicken, you're up to no good." Song Xianglan strode into the courtyard and slapped him twice.

"Slap! Slap!"

A crisp sound exploded in the courtyard.

"You shameless bastard, you deserve a slap on the left cheek and a kick on the right!" Song Xianglan pointed at his nose and cursed, "You shameless thing, even at a time like this you're still trying to play this self-inflicted injury trick on me?"

Who are you trying to disgust? If you really want to celebrate the New Year, go cry at the Yang family graves, don't wail here.

"I'm your eldest son. I should move in."

Yang Jianjun became anxious.

The fear and jealousy of being abandoned made him speak recklessly:

"I am Song Xiangdong's older brother, and Song Tingting's older brother. Why should you eat and drink well while I have to starve and freeze? I also have a share in this house."

For the past six months, he's lived worse than a stray dog.

Previously, with Song Xianglan managing the household, he only needed to reach out for food and drink.

Now that the family has separated, his wife and children despise him, and he can't even afford to buy meat.

The cured meat and sausages are hanging in this courtyard.

The oily sheen made his eyes red.

"Mom, how can you be so heartless? Is it really necessary to be so ruthless? It's Dad who wronged you, but I've called you Mom for so many years."

"If I don't wipe them out completely, will you live to slaughter them for meat during the New Year? Even a dog would vomit at the smell."

Song Xianglan sneered, her eyes filled with disgust.

"Am I so heartless that I've allowed you bunch of ingrates to suck my blood until now?"

Pah!

"What terrible things have I done to deserve having you call me 'Mom' all those years? Just thinking about it makes me want to throw up my dinner from last night."

Yang Jianjun stiffened his neck.

After struggling for a while, I managed to squeeze out a line from the book: "Never underestimate a young man's potential!"

The entire room fell silent for a moment.

Song Xianglan felt as if she had heard the biggest joke in the world:

"All you're good for is your stubbornness, isn't it?"

Even the furnaces of a steel mill can't melt your foul mouth.

Still poor when you're young?

You should take a piss and look at yourself in the mirror; the wrinkles on your face could trap flies. You're poor in middle age now, you'll be poor in old age, and in the end, it'll all be the dead who suffer the most!

"puff--"

The ugly woman watching the play couldn't hold back and spat out the mouthful of tea she had just drunk.

He excitedly slapped his thigh, pulling the dog beside him along.

"Listen to this. If anyone tries to act tough with me again, I'll yell back like this."

Shen Huijun's eyes lit up as she hurriedly pulled out the small notebook from her pocket and quickly scribbled down notes.

This is the essence of cursing.

Yang Jianjun's face turned a deep purplish-red, but he still refused to give up.

He turned his gaze to Song Xiangdong.

"Xiangdong, you're a soldier, you should have high moral character. But look at our mother, how can she treat her son like this..."

Shen Huijun paused, then looked up at Yang Jianjun as if he were a fool.

"Are you out of your mind, or did your brain get caught in a door and run away from home? You expect Xiang Dong to help you?"

Song Xiangdong slowly rolled up his sleeves.

He didn't say anything, but walked a few steps to Yang Jianjun.

Yang Jianjun was trying to get closer to her when suddenly her collar was tightened, and she was lifted up, her feet off the ground.

"Towards...towards east..."

"You're as stupid as a pig, and you expect me to help you?"

Song Xiangdong carried Yang Jianjun with one hand and strode out of the courtyard.

They dragged him for dozens of meters on a dirt road before Song Xiangdong let go, and Yang Jianjun fell heavily to the ground.

Before he could even get up...

Song Xiangdong kicked him in the butt, followed by a barrage of punches.

He doesn't slap people in the face.

They specifically targeted the thickest parts of the flesh, causing Yang Jianjun to howl in pain.

"A beast with an ugly body and a wicked heart. I've seen shit in a latrine, but I've never seen shit smeared on your mouth."

Why would someone so old still rely on their parents for financial support?

Your own parents are in a labor camp in Northwest China. If you want to sponge off them, go to Northwest China. There's a place for you there.

Yang Jianjun was beaten and rolled around in pain:

"Stop hitting him. You can't hit people on New Year's Eve. It'll bring you bad luck for the whole year."

"It's right to hit you; it'll get rid of your bad luck."

Song Xiangdong punched him in the back again. "You don't even have a place to live, you're so poor you can't find a single penny on you. What kind of despicable things did you do to deserve this retribution?"

Don't let me see you again, or I'll beat you up every time I see you.

Done.

Song Xiangdong delivered the final kick.

He turned and left.

Yang Jianjun's bones were almost falling apart.

He had thought that since it was the Lunar New Year, the Song family would surely give him some money or meat to appease him, out of consideration for their reputation. Who knew that this family was now harder than iron.

This day.

It's really impossible to live like this anymore.

Song Xianglan was still standing in the middle of the courtyard, sulking, her chest heaving and her eyes a little red.

Song Xiangdong walked over, opened his arms, and hugged his elderly mother tightly.

He was tall, and his embrace was broad and warm.

Song Xianglan was choked and could hardly breathe, but the anger in her heart strangely dissipated.

"mom."

Song Xiangdong rested his chin on the top of her head, his voice muffled, "Do you know how happy I am that you're my biological mother? I must have accumulated good karma for several lifetimes to be blessed to be your son."

Song Xianglan froze.

She thought of her past life.

That's what happened to that foolish son...

My nose tingled, and tears welled up in my eyes.

She quickly sniffed and slapped Song Xiangdong hard on the back: "It's the New Year, stop spouting these cheesy things, are you trying to make me cry?"

Song Xiangdong loosened his grip.

Bend down and look her straight in the eye.

Those eyes reflected her mother's slightly reddened eyes.

"The old lady's eyes really turned red."

He grinned, revealing a set of white teeth, and reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "You go cook, I'll tend the fire for you today. Let's have a warm New Year."