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

Yang Dashan then realized that the five yuan from yesterday was gone, and immediately glared at her.

Where's the five dollars in my pocket?

"Five yuan?" Song Xianglan deliberately touched his pocket, which contained only a pack of economy cigarettes.

Enraged, she punched Yang Dashan again.

"Hey you old geezer, don't push me into domestic violence. You won't even give me ten yuan for travel expenses. Are you deliberately trying to go against me?"

Yang Dashan wanted to fight.

He raised his hand and slapped her across the face.

He was pushed down onto the wooden bed by Song Xianglan, and she knelt on his lower back and beat him.

Yang Dashan whimpered.

Along with the creaking of the old wooden planks, Old Lin from next door slid down from the wall. "Old Yang is too cunning. He complains about Song the Butcher, but when he can't find the scorekeeper, he hugs Song the Butcher..."

Liu Chounu glared at him, "You men only care about things in your crotches."

"What do you know?"

"You're no better than Yang Dashan," Liu Chounu cursed, then carried the firewood to the kitchen.

Old Lin, who was being scolded, looked completely bewildered.

Song Xianglan beat Yang Dashan so badly that one of his teeth came loose, and all he could do was whimper, "Xianglan, the money is under the pillow."

Song Xianglan lifted the pillow and felt two 10,000-yuan bills under the straw mat.

"Confiscated."

Yang Dashan stared at her menacingly, "You said you'd only take ten yuan."

"Did I say? If you give it to me willingly, I'll give you ten yuan. Isn't it too much trouble to beat you up? I'll take another ten yuan to replenish my strength." Song Xianglan took twenty yuan and went out the door. It was another day of beating people up until she was completely satisfied.

This is such a comfortable life.

She wanted to wait for Wang Dahai to return before exposing Yang Dashan and Zhang Yujuan's affair to the world.

Yang Dashan inside the house cried louder and louder.

He was a cultured man who had received an education, yet he was subjected to domestic violence by a stinking butcher.

Good heavens, are you trying to kill us all?

……

Song Xianglan went to Liu Dahua's house.

Da Hua went to the beach to carry stones.

Daughter-in-law Zhang Haiyan had just finished preparing lunch and was walking out, supporting her pregnant belly with one hand. She greeted Song Xianglan with a smile, "Aunt Song, thank you for exchanging pork kidneys and trotters with our family."

"Your mom's back in the sex industry again?"

"Mom went to the beach to carry stones." Zhang Haiyan's eyes reddened.

"Aunt Song tried to persuade her, and she often argued with Zhu Zi to stop her from carrying stones."

We figured Mom's getting old, so she could stay home and help take care of the kids. With Zhuzi and me around, things won't be too bad.

"I'll give her a piece of my mind when I get back."

Liu Dahua raised a son and a daughter who are both very filial.

Her daughter-in-law and son-in-law are also very good, and their children's younger relatives are also very good to her.

The only downside was that she was scolded by her mother-in-law her whole life, and in the end, Huang Guoping, who returned from the other side of the strait, even mocked her for being old.

She was so distraught that she didn't eat or drink for several days.

He eventually died on a rock by the sea.

He died next to the rock that everyone called the Waiting-for-Husband Rock.

Song Xianglan took a beef bone and half a pig liver, along with the liver stalk. "Haiyan, take these. Stew the pig liver stalk with some olives for your mother to drink."

Beef bone soup is perfect for a pregnant woman like you. Grandma Zhu is full of energy and doesn't need to eat anything.

Zhang Haiyan accepted it with a smile.

"Thank you, Aunt Song." She went inside carrying the basket.

After a while, he came out carrying a basket.

Inside was a large bowl of dark, mushy radish chunks. "My mom pickled them over twenty years ago. I'll give you some to make soup."

Song Xianglan took the basket and went back.

For lunch, she simply cooked oyster noodles and stir-fried a pig's ear with chili peppers.

Song Tingting came back to help with the fire and cleaned the pig hair off the pig's head. The mother and daughter ate noodles and stir-fried pig ears with chili peppers.

Yang Jianjun thought there would be noodles to eat.

The pot lid was lifted, revealing only a little noodle soup. He looked at Song Xianglan with a tearful face, "Mom. I've been working all morning; I should have earned ten work points today."

Song Xianglan opened the door to the room.

He took some noodles from inside and gave them to him, saying, "Here's some flour. Go to the Chen family and get the rice and noodles you borrowed back."

"I have to work this afternoon, and noodles won't fill me up."

"You're so arrogant because you're living such a good life. Look around the whole village, who can afford to eat noodles every day now?" Song Xianglan spat a mouthful of phlegm in Yang Jianjun's face. "Eat if you like, or get the hell out of my sight."

Yang Jianjun wiped his face.

They slunk away to the field to pick vegetables.

When Dazhuang and Erzhuang returned, they didn't dare to speak, secretly staring at Song Xianglan, thinking about how to steal something.

Song Xianglan ignored Yang Dashan, who was starving.

She spent the afternoon braising the pig's head first. She also braised the pig's lungs, and after braising the beef, she braised some bamboo shoots.

He packed two sacks full of things, and carried money, small yellow croakers, and jade bracelets with him.

She packed everything up.

In the evening, I went to the brigade headquarters and gave the brigade secretary a pack of Daqianmen cigarettes.

They issued my identification and stamped it.

These days, you need proof to go anywhere else, otherwise you'll be arrested as a vagrant.

I got up in the early morning and boiled twenty eggs.

He left five pancakes and some rice and noodles for Song Tingting in her room. He also gave his daughter a few words of advice: "If anything happens, go to your Aunt Hua's house."

Song Tingting hugged her, "Mom, come back soon."

"Mom misses your brother."

"Mom, my second sister-in-law must be very beautiful. This is a clip I bought with my part-time job. I hope she likes it." After school, Song Tingting went to town to find work and exchanged some money to buy a clip from a smuggling shop.

"They say it's a hair clip that women in Hong Kong like to wear."

Song Xianglan picked it up and looked at it. "Your sister-in-law will definitely like it. Did you go and help smugglers carry goods again?"

Smuggling has been a problem in Qingyang since the early 1970s.

Despite repeated bans, it persists.

Smuggling reached its peak in the early 21st century.

"Um."

Song Tingting thought Song Xianglan would scold her, but instead she only told her to be careful. She was told not to be afraid when things happened, and to remember the trick: cry, beg for mercy, and play the victim.

Song Tingting was very excited.

"Mom, I know. I'll give you the money I earn."

With her mother's approval, she became even bolder.

Song Xianglan never imagined that she would inadvertently allow her daughter to become so audacious that she would be famous in later generations.

I barely slept all night.

Song Xianglan was in good spirits. She was so excited about seeing her son and daughter-in-law that she couldn't sleep. She felt that if she were given a butcher's knife, she could easily kill ten pigs.

It's still early.

Song Xianglan had already gone out with a sack on a carrying pole.

Yang Dashan secretly watched her leave, his pig-headed face filled with hatred and madness.

……

Song Xianglan carried her load on a shoulder pole to the town.

Take a boat from the pier to the next city, then buy a ticket to a city near the South Island, and then take another boat to the South Island.

The first ray of sunlight fell on her slender back, and her steps were firm yet joyful.

We arrived at the town's dock.

Everywhere you look, there are people carrying loads on their shoulders, squatting on the ground in line waiting for the boat to arrive.

I waited for a full half hour.

The boat has just arrived.

Song Xianglan picked up the burlap sack again, and also carried a cloth bag on her back. An old military green bag and a military water bottle full of water were slung across her chest.

The boat was crowded with people, some of whom were leading cattle and sheep.

Some people pushed carts, while others drove tractors onto the boat.

The boat was packed with people, and the salty sea breeze made our arms feel sticky. The air was filled with a mixture of fishy smells, sweat, tobacco, and animal excrement.

The smoke makes people dizzy.

Song Xianglan's two burlap sacks lay overturned on the deck, and she squatted between the sacks, holding a carrying pole in her hand.

My legs went numb from squatting, so I sat down on the ground.

When he got hungry, he grabbed a handful of dried longans from his cloth bag, peeled them, and ate them. An old woman next to him squeezed over to chat.

"Big sister, where are you going?"

"I'm going to the South Island."

"It's so far." The old woman swallowed hard. "Your bag smells like fried dough. Can I trade you some radishes for some fried dough? I haven't had any fried dough for days. Please, have mercy and trade me one."

Song Xianglan glanced at the cloth bag.

Does this person have a dog's nose?

"No change. My journey to the South Island was arduous, this is my rations."

"I'm not taking advantage of you. These are radishes I grew myself." The old woman pulled two radishes, still covered in mud and radish tops, from her pocket. "Look how delicious these radishes are. They're better than your fried dough."

Everyone looked over.

Song Xianglan stood up, still holding the carrying pole in her hand.

"No trade. Go ask around and find out who Song Yidao from the slaughterhouse is. I'm the only one who takes advantage of others; no one dares to take advantage of me. Keep your radish for yourself."

What is this? The radish wanted to exchange it for fried dough sticks.

Qingyang is a carrot-growing area; those things can grow with just a little soil. Who cares about carrots?