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

This is what her father left for his five daughters before he passed away.

Yifeng carefully wrapped the passbook again, but after thinking for a moment, she didn't put it back in its original place.

She walked around the room, stuffed the savings book into a crack under the bed, and then covered it with old newspapers.

Yang Liu likes to rummage through drawers and cabinets, but she never lifts the bed board.

Hide the save file carefully.

She then went to rummage through the metal box on top of the cabinet.

The metal box was opened; there should be five thousand yuan inside.

Yi Feng counted the bills three times, one by one.

Two thousand eight hundred and forty yuan.

Her hand froze in mid-air.

Five thousand to two thousand eight hundred and forty.

Two thousand one hundred and sixty yuan is missing.

It's only been a few months, no matter how you live, it can't cost that much.

Yi Feng's heart sank into an ice cave.

Her mother only buys meat once a week. Tofu is eaten every two days.

The vegetables are all grown in our own garden, and we don't need to buy chicken or duck eggs.

Fish and shrimp are very cheap.

The tuition fees for the children's schooling were paid in the fall.

It seems that the money ended up in the pockets of the Yang family.

Yi Feng squatted on the ground, staring at the increasingly thin stack of banknotes in the iron box, her eyes stinging with tears.

She didn't take all the money.

He pulled out five hundred yuan, folded it neatly, and stuffed it into his inner pocket.

Put the rest back into the metal box.

Put it back on the cabinet as it was.

After locking the door, Yifeng carried the empty basket and walked towards the field.

Yang Liu was weeding in the vegetable garden.

Even in winter, there's work to be done in the vegetable garden. Radishes and mustard greens need tending, and garlic sprouts that are sprouting up all at once also need weeding.

A lot of shepherd's purse and dandelions grew in the carrot field.

Yang Liu saw Yi Feng carrying an empty basket and straightened up. "If you don't want to study, find a class. Your uncle has a friend who makes shoes. He can ask you to learn a trade through connections."

"I ran into my third aunt."

Yang Liu's expression changed slightly, almost unnaturally.

"What did she say?"

"She told me not to wander around town. She told me to continue my studies and become successful like Aunt Tingting."

Yang Liu scoffed:

"How can you be as good at studying as Tingting? Tingting has been a top student since she was little. Your grades are miles behind hers."

"That's like my aunt."

Song Yuzhu failed to get into Peking University or Xincheng University.

At least I got into the local Huada University.

In rural areas, it's said that ancestral graves are emitting auspicious smoke.

Yang Liu thought about it seriously, "Your aunt is at least a college student. She's your grandmother's precious daughter, born from an old clam."

She was seven or eight years old and still carried on your grandmother's back; your grandfather carried her to and from school every day. Of all the granddaughters in the family, none received the same treatment.

The sourness in his words was unmistakable.

Yi Feng looked at Yang Liu's profile.

Her mother's lips were downturned and her brows were furrowed as she dug hard in the ground with a hoe.

Every time someone praised another, her face would show more resentment.

She wasn't like this before.

Yifeng put down her basket, walked over and put her arm around Yangliu's arm.

"Mom, I'll spoil you from now on."

Yang Liu stopped weeding.

Several seconds later, Yang Liu wiped her eyes with her sleeve, but the more she wiped, the more her eyes watered.

"Mom, don't cry."

"I didn't cry. Sand got in my eyes." Yang Liu turned her head away, her voice hoarse.

Yifeng stood in the vegetable garden with her arm around Yangliu's.

The winter wind blows.

They blew their hair all over the place.

After wiping away her tears, Yang Liu started digging in the ground again.

He spoke as he dug, his voice muffled in his throat.

"I begged him to have a son with me, since I haven't gone through menopause yet. He refused, saying he was afraid I would harm the boy."

Yifeng stood to the side, watching her mother's back as she bent over and frantically dug at the ground.

I was so upset that I couldn't speak.

Her mother couldn't control her hatred when she saw that child.

She hated Song Qiang for betraying her, and she hated that woman for giving birth to a son she couldn't have.

"Mom," Yi Feng said.

"Um."

"Let Grandma and Uncle go back."

Yang Liu's back stiffened slightly.

Yi Feng had said the same thing before, and Yang Liu immediately retorted.

But she didn't immediately refute it today.

Will your dad bring Sifeng and Xiaowu back for Chinese New Year?

"Probably," Yifeng said.

Yang Liu gave a bitter smile. "Sifeng and Xiaowu must have suffered a lot following him. Your father is good at making money; he wanted to take you to the city before, but luckily I disagreed. Otherwise, we would have been in big trouble."

Yi Feng bit her lip.

"Mom, Grandma is arranging a blind date for you. Will you get married?"

"Why are you, a little kid, asking about these things?"

"I'm not asking. I overheard my grandma and Aunt Zhang next door talking about it at home, and several of my aunts want to introduce you to their relatives."

After a long pause, Yang Liu finally managed to squeeze out a sound from her throat:

"None of them can compare to your father."

Yi Feng was stunned.

She never expected Yang Liu to say such a thing.

Yang Liu looked up at the hazy sky in the distance. "The Song family members are all very distinguished. Your grandparents, despite their age, stand out in a crowd and look much more energetic than their peers. Your father is also good-looking. Those short, poor, and ugly men who come to find partners are so arrogant."

Yi Feng looked at her mother's profile, her heart filled with mixed emotions.

Her mother hates her father.

But on the other hand, I can't let him go.

Life is so complicated, like a knotted tangle.

*

As Song Xianglan rode her bicycle back home, she was no longer thinking about Yifeng.

Just now in town, she saw a young man speeding past on a motorcycle.

A red Honda motorcycle.

The engine roared loudly, and everyone on the roadside turned to look.

The young man rode with great flair, even flicking his hair. He deliberately made what he thought was a cool gesture.

Song Xianglan pedaled her bicycle, her legs moving up and down with great effort.

The bag of pork tied to the back seat bounced back and forth.

It takes 30 minutes to ride from the factory to the town.

It wouldn't take more than ten minutes to ride a motorcycle.

In the north, people travel by walking, bicycle, or oxcart. What if we could bring a batch of motorcycles over there to sell?

Once the thought popped into my head, I couldn't suppress it.

She did some mental calculations.

The factory price of a domestically produced Jialing motorcycle is about two to three thousand yuan.

Demand exceeds supply, and people have to queue up to buy them.

People have started riding them in coastal cities in the south, but they are still very rare in the inland north.

Scarcity drives up prices, and that price difference is there for all to see.

How many motorcycles can a truck carry?

How about transporting by rail?

There are also channels.

These questions popped up one by one, and swirled in her mind.

When she rode to her doorstep...

The aroma of food wafted from every house.

The sound of children's laughter could be heard coming from the courtyard.

Song Xianglan pushed her bicycle into the courtyard.

Just as I crossed the threshold, a small cannonball came hurtling towards me.

"grandmother."

Fu Bao opened her little arms and buried her head in Song Xianglan's legs.

Right after her, Youbao ran over too. "Grandma, we missed you!"

Song Xianglan held the bicycle with one hand and patted Fu Bao's head with the other.

"How did you two get here?"

"Mom brought us here by car, and we sat for a very, very long time." Fu Bao looked up, her eyes sparkling.

Youbao clung to Song Xianglan's leg, refusing to let go. "Grandma, where are you going? We've been waiting for you for so long."

Shen Huijun came out of the house, her hands covered in flour, her apron tied crookedly.

"Mom, he's busy with work in the city, and Xiangdong has a lot on his plate. He said he'll try to come back on New Year's Eve."

Song Xianglan propped the bicycle against the wall and untied the snakeskin bag from the back seat.

"It doesn't matter whether he comes back or not, I'll be happier if you guys come back."

Shen Huijun quickly came over to take the bag.

Pig's head, offal, ribs, and trotters—they're all quite heavy.

"Mom, did you go to the slaughterhouse?"

"Zhiyuan gave it to me." Song Xianglan bent down to pick up Youbao, weighed him in her arms, and exclaimed, "Wow, our Youbao has gotten heavier again."

Youbao hugged his grandmother's neck and pressed his little face against hers.

"Grandma, I can count to one hundred now. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten..."

"Youbao is so great!"

"Tingting might not be back until the 29th," Song Xianglan told Shen Huijun. "Her shop is very busy; they say business is booming at the end of the year."

Shen Huijun deftly separated the pig offal and placed it into basins.

While busy, she said, "My mom went back to Haishi. My grandma is still alive, and the whole family will be spending the Spring Festival in Haishi. My mom said she really doesn't like going back to Haishi in winter, and my dad also wants to live in the new city."

"Hmm." Song Xianglan looked at the two little ones playing on the ground, her face relaxing considerably.

Song Xianglan and Shen Huijun went into the kitchen.

I had a simple rice noodle soup for lunch.

"Mom, there's something I need to tell you."

Song Xianglan turned her head to look at her.

"Zhou Fang and An Xiyang are in trouble again."

Song Xianglan frowned slightly. "What is it now?"

"An Xiyang is interning in Haishi. She's decided to go to America, saying that Zhou Fang should go to Chinatown to work. She said that washing dishes there pays quite a bit a month, and her family can settle down in America."

Song Xianglan: ...

It seems that the regrets of these two people in their past lives are destined to be repeated in this life.

"Zhou Fang doesn't want to go. The two of them have been giving each other the cold shoulder for over a month. I heard from Xiang Dong that Zhou Fang is determined not to go this time. An Xiyang is also stubborn, saying that if she doesn't take this opportunity, she'll never have another chance."

Song Xianglan leaned against the wall.

The people around her are either infertile who are not divorced, divorced after having children, breaking up before getting married, or having children out of wedlock after being exposed as having given birth out of wedlock.

Each one is more troublesome than the last.

What is Zhou Fang's attitude?

"Xiang Dong said that Zhou Fang's original words were that he could go anywhere in China to pursue his career, but he would never go abroad."

Song Xianglan let out a long sigh.

"If this continues, we should break up. Let's each find our destined ones."

Fu Bao did a somersault on the ground, giggling and shouting:

"Grandma, look at me doing a somersault!"

Not to be outdone, Youbao tried to flip it over, but it went crooked.

With a "thud," she bumped into the leg of a stool placed to the side, her lips trembling as she was about to cry.

Song Xianglan rushed over and scooped him up, then touched the back of his head.

"It's okay, it's okay. A real man doesn't cry."