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

The lights in the building flickered on and off.

Nobody felt at ease.

It wasn't until seven or eight o'clock that the sound of hurried footsteps could be heard in the hallway.

First came the elderly couple from the Li family, then the eldest brother and sister-in-law from the Li family, and finally the eldest sister and brother-in-law from the Li family.

Li Guoying is a teacher at a primary school in the suburbs. She usually considers herself a cultured person, but at this moment her footsteps are very heavy, making the floorboards thump loudly.

The Song and Li families lived opposite each other, but were also side households, with walls as thin as paper.

Song Xianglan was tidying up the stove in the kitchen, but her ears were perked up.

Shen's mother even moved a small stool and sat against the wall closest to the Li family's house, not daring to breathe loudly.

The house across the street was deathly still.

The suppressed sobs came intermittently.

"Mom, stop crying." Li Guoyao's voice was tinged with impatience. "The cat paw prints on the blanket are a coincidence. The child is just unlucky to have come to our family. He should have been born into one of those peasant families."

Li's mother exuded a bluffing air, as if she were trying to shirk responsibility.

"It's all He Xiuxiu's fault, that jinx! Why couldn't she wait until night to wash the baby's clothes and diapers? If she had stayed by the bedside, would the cat have been able to get in?"

"You should also keep quiet."

Li's father's voice sounded muffled, "You didn't help wash the diapers while your daughter-in-law was in postpartum confinement, and you even made her wash Guobin's clothes. What kind of mother-in-law acts like this?"

"How am I not helping? Aren't there enough things to do at home and outside? Who needs to be taken care of for more than half a month after giving birth to a girl?"

Li's mother slammed her hand on the table, shouting, "He Xiuxiu has gone mad and says she's going to call the police. Call the police for what? Does she even want to live her life anymore?"

These words were spoken.

The room fell silent for a moment.

"Don't call the police."

Li Guoyao's voice suddenly rose, then he deliberately lowered it again, "We absolutely cannot call the police. A demobilized vice mayor just moved in across the street. He's been parachuted into our new town and is keeping an eye on us long-time residents."

"If the police come knocking now, will I still get this year's 'Outstanding Contributor' award? Will I still get promoted in the future?"

Li's mother was trembling with anger. "If she dares to call the police, I will sue her for murdering her own daughter."

I never agreed to let this woman into the family in the first place. She's just pretty, but she's a useless jinx.

Li's eldest sister-in-law, who had been silent all along, finally chimed in:

"Mom, please calm down. As long as it doesn't involve my Guoyao and the children, anything is fine."

Li Guoying also joined in the criticism:

"How could Guobin have been so loose with his belt? He drank some cat urine and couldn't control himself, sleeping with He Xiuxiu. Now this mess has happened, and the whole family is being shamed."

Song Xianglan frowned as she listened from the kitchen.

This family, with their child's body barely cold, are already preoccupied with their future and saving face.

Early the next morning.

The sky was just beginning to lighten.

He Xiuxiu followed Li Guobin home.

She walked into the house like a walking corpse, as if her soul had been ripped out.

His eyes swept blankly across the dresser, then fixed on the unopened bag of milk powder.

That was the milk powder that Song Xianglan gave to her daughter.

With a "Wow!"

He Xiuxiu squatted on the ground, hugging her knees and wailing.

Li Guobin frowned, walked over and helped her up. "Alright, what kind of talk is it if people hear you crying so early in the morning?"

"Get well soon, then we'll have another one. If it's a boy this time, Mom won't say anything."

He Xiuxiu suddenly raised her head, her bloodshot eyes fixed on Li Guoyao.

"Snapped!"

A resounding slap landed on Li Guoyao's face.

Li Guoyao was stunned by the beating.

He covered his face and looked at his usually docile wife in disbelief.

"Li Guobin, are you even human?" He Xiuxiu screamed, her voice hoarse and broken. "Our daughter is dead. That's a human life. You didn't even shed a tear, all you wanted was to have a son?"

Li Guobin's face turned ashen.

A hint of embarrassment flashed in his eyes, but it was quickly masked by indifference.

"Many babies die when they are only ten days old. The dead cannot be brought back to life, so we must always consider the living."

Li Guobin straightened his collar, avoiding He Xiuxiu's murderous gaze, and said, "I have to go to work, I don't have time to mess around with you here."

After saying that, he slammed the door and left without looking back.

He Xiuxiu collapsed to the ground, her daughter was gone, she cried a few times and then went crazy.

How can a person be so cruel?

Song Xianglan felt a tightness in her chest as she listened to the commotion on the other end of the line.

She didn't have time to dwell on her feelings; life had to go on.

She rented a shop on Jiefang Road, the most bustling street in the new city, and dragged Zhou Fang to do the renovations, planning to open a women's clothing store.

They also rented a two-bedroom apartment nearby, which served as a place for Zhang Shuting and her daughter to stay, and also as a dormitory for the female workers at the clothing store.

"Xiaxia, when school starts in a few days, you'll be enrolling in a nearby elementary school," Song Xianglan said to Xiaxia, who was following behind her, while directing the workers to paint the walls.

Xiaxia shook her head, her little hands tightly gripping the hem of her clothes.

"Grandma Song, I'm not going to school. I'm learning to read with my mom. I want to help her sell clothes, and I'm not afraid of hard work."

Song Xianglan squatted down, her gaze level with Xia Xia's.

"Your mother can manage by selling clothes. You must study. Only through studying can you succeed, distinguish right from wrong, and learn to judge people and things."

Xiaxia blinked, seemingly understanding but not quite.

"Can Mom only go back to Grandma's house if she does well in school?"

"Why do you want to go back to your maternal grandmother's house?" Song Xianglan was taken aback.

"Mommy misses Grandma," Xiaxia said, her head down and her toes shuffling on the ground. "Mommy has cried secretly several nights, calling out 'Grandma.' Mommy said Grandma misses her too."

Song Xianglan felt a pang of sadness.

She knew that the women in Zhang Shuting's hometown were known as iron ladies.

Wearing a straw hat, it eats grass and produces milk.

The men went out to sea to fish, while the women stayed at home to take care of their parents-in-law, raise their children, manage social relationships with relatives, work in the fields, and reclaim wasteland in their spare time. Even stone slabs weighing hundreds of kilograms were carried on the women's shoulders.

That's a true workhorse.

day to day.

Year after year.

They swallowed their bitterness.

Even this woman had the lowest social status.

"Yes." Song Xianglan touched Xiaxia's dry, yellow hair, her tone firm, "When you finish your studies and become successful, and get into university, you can bring your grandmother to the new city to enjoy a life of luxury."

Xiaxia's eyes lit up instantly, like torches lit in the darkness.

"Okay. I want to go to university."

The little girl turned and ran to Zhang Shuting, who was wiping the windows. "Mom, I'm going to study hard so I can bring Grandma to the new town someday. You said Grandma has never even been to the county town, I want to bring her there."

Zhang Shuting looked at her daughter's hopeful little face.

He smiled and nodded emphatically.

In the afternoon, Song Xianglan took Zhang Shuting and her daughter back to the compound to move their luggage.

Shen's mother rummaged through all the extra pots, pans, and dishes in the house and packed them into a large bag.

Shen Huijun packed a large box of her half-new and half-old clothes and shoes, along with daily necessities such as towels and soap.

"Take these, they're all clean," Shen Huijun said gently to Zhang Shuting. "When you get there, come back and get anything you need, don't be shy."

Zhang Shuting's eyes were red.

Holding the box, unsure of what to say, he could only nod repeatedly.

Song Xianglan went to the door and hailed a tricycle.

Carry all the bags and packages upstairs.

The wheels rolled on, carrying the mother and daughter toward a new life.

Song Xianglan stood at the gate of the courtyard, watching the tricycle drive away.

As soon as I turned around, I saw He Xiuxiu standing under the shade of a tree not far away.

In less than a week, He Xiuxiu became shriveled up, like the bark of an old tree that had been drained of all its moisture.

Sunken eye sockets.

His once lively eyes were now filled only with madness and death.

"Auntie," He Xiuxiu said softly, her voice ethereal, "there aren't many good people like you."

Song Xianglan's heart skipped a beat. Looking at her expression, she sighed.

"Xiuxiu, life is long. Your daughter wouldn't want you to ruin yourself like this."

She didn't tell He Xiuxiu not to cry, nor did she tell her to think positively.

This kind of pain.

This cannot be soothed by a few words.

He Xiuxiu covered her face, her fingers digging deep into her flesh, tears streaming down her face.

"Auntie, she's very well-behaved... really."

He Xiuxiu murmured as if speaking to the wind, "We haven't even had time to choose a name yet. I've flipped through several dictionaries and thought every word was good, but then I felt that none of them were worthy of her."

They all say that having a daughter is a waste of money, like trash...

A heart-stopping light burst forth in He Xiuxiu's desolate eyes. "But I feel like she's a pearl in my belly, a pearl in my heart."

The wind blew through the treetops, swirling up the fallen leaves on the ground.

Song Xianglan looked at He Xiuxiu's face, which was twisted and filled with sorrow in the sunlight.

I felt that the summer wind had burned the noodles and chilled me to the bone.