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

Seeing Zhang Yujuan wake up with a loud cry, Liu Chounu grabbed Song Xianglan's arm with a face full of admiration.

"I knew Lanlan was amazing. How come I never knew you could heal people before?"

Song Xianglan still had traces of Zhang Yujuan's greasy foundation on her fingertips, which she disgustedly rubbed onto the hem of her clothes.

"I'm good at slaughtering pigs, and I'm also good at treating this kind of 'anger-induced anxiety'."

Wang Dahai felt both lingering fear and unease.

Just now, Song Xianglan did that.

It looks like they're taking the opportunity to get revenge.

Wang Dahai awkwardly managed to squeeze out a polite remark:

"Um... Old Song, thank you. I must come and thank you in person another day."

Song Xianglan waved her hand.

A magnanimous expression:

"We're neighbors, why be so polite? It's nothing."

Her gaze swept over Wang Cong, then landed on Zhang Yujuan's pale face.

The voice suddenly rose a few decibels.

"I heard about what happened today, and I don't believe that Yujuan could do such a shameless thing."

We are all respectable people, how could we do such shameless things?

If they really do something bad.

"Heaven has eyes; sooner or later he'll get his comeuppance—his tongue will rot and his heart will rot."

That sounds like trying to mediate a fight.

But every word felt like a poisoned needle.

The stab made Zhang Yujuan shudder.

He simply didn't dare to respond.

Song Xianglan continued to deliver the final blow:

"That old good-for-nothing Yang Dashan is the kind of guy who'd lick a pile of shit if he saw it."

Even if Yujuan has terrible taste, she shouldn't be interested in someone like that.

I believe Yujuan's conduct is absolutely impeccable.

Mei Fang glanced at Song Xianglan in surprise.

Wang Dahai heard this.

My doubts dissipated considerably, replaced by a surge of guilt.

He's a complete scoundrel.

The farce was brought to an end by a few words from Song Xianglan.

The crowd dispersed, still wanting more.

They left the Wang family.

Liu Dahua waited lurking in the shadows at the intersection.

Seeing Song Xianglan and Liu Chounu come out, he quickly walked forward and pulled Song Xianglan aside.

He lowered his voice and asked:

"When are we leaving?"

Song Xianglan glanced at the sky: "I'll go home, grab a quick bite, and then come find you."

"Okay, I'll go back and get ready too."

The two split up.

The ugly woman, preoccupied with the stove at home, rushed back home in a great hurry.

He was afraid that if he got back late, Old Lin would scold him again.

Song Xianglan returned home.

A rich aroma of sweet potatoes wafted through the courtyard.

Shen Huijun was quick and efficient.

The food is now on the table.

The midday sun was scorching, and the house was stuffy and hot, so the table was set up under the banyan tree in the yard.

A pot of thick, golden sweet potato porridge.

A plate of stir-fried clams with ginger and scallions.

A plate of pan-fried bigeye fish.

A plate of salted duck eggs cut in half.

Song Xianglan washed her hands and sat down.

Yang Dashan was so hungry that his stomach was practically sticking to his back, and he didn't see Chen Xiuqin return.

He leaned against the door frame, gazing longingly at the food on the table.

"Xianglan...we've been married for so long, you're not going to just watch me starve to death, are you?"

Song Xianglan ladled out a large bowl of sweet potato porridge, skillfully picked up a fish with her chopsticks, peeled off the crispy fish skin and tossed it aside, and ate the snow-white tender meat inside.

She took a bite slowly and deliberately.

She lifted her eyelids and gave him a cold glance:

"Want some?"

Yang Dashan nodded vigorously.

"Give me the money." Song Xianglan held out one hand.

"One yuan, and I'll give you a bowl of porridge, a fish, and half a plate of clams."

Yang Dashan's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

"You're robbing me! One dollar can buy more than a pound of pork!"

Song Xianglan scoffed.

Pick up a soft, sweet potato with a red center and put it in your mouth.

"If you think it's too expensive, just wait for Chen Xiuqin to come back and make you braised pork. But I doubt it; she's already had enough to eat at the commune with Dazhuang and Erzhuang."

Yang Dashan's face stiffened.

My stomach suddenly cramped; I was so hungry I couldn't stand it anymore.

"One yuan it is!"

Yang Dashan gritted his teeth.

He took out a dollar coin and slapped it on the table.

Song Xianglan didn't take the money, but instead gestured towards the kitchen with her chin:

"Go get your own bowl. Do you expect me to serve you?"

Yang Dashan held his breath.

He limped into the kitchen and came out with a large bowl.

Song Xianglan did not renege on her promise.

I served him a full bowl of sweet potato porridge and gave him the remaining half plate of clams and a fish.

Yang Dashan wasn't even qualified to sit at the table.

He squatted dejectedly on the stone stool next to the laundry sink.

They ate ravenously.

The sweet potato porridge melts in your mouth, and the fish is fresh and delicious.

As he ate, he thought to himself, "How wonderful it would be if I could eat and drink well with Song Xianglan every day. That's what a life should be like."

Yang Jianjun smelled the aroma and shouted:

"Mom! Give me a bowl of sweet potato porridge too. And lots of fish."

Song Xianglan didn't even raise her head:

"Where's the money?"

Yang Jianjun was taken aback.

"Where would I get money?"

"What's the point of shouting if you have no money?"

Song Xianglan rolled her eyes and slammed her chopsticks on the table.

"Go ask your wife for it if you dare, don't beg from me. Do I owe you anything? You got beaten up and didn't give me a single penny in compensation. Seeing your cowardly appearance makes me angry."

How come he didn't get beaten to death?

If you get beaten to death and buried on the mountain, I might get a few dollars.

Yang Jianjun: "..."

He dared not speak.

After the meal, Shen Huijun quickly and efficiently cleared away the dishes.

Song Xianglan went inside and changed into a set of durable old clothes.

While buttoning his shirt, he casually asked:

"Huijun, when are you planning to go back to Nancheng?"

Shen Huijun's eyes instantly reddened, and her voice trembled:

"Mom...do you find me annoying and want to kick me out?"

Song Xianglan was taken aback.

His tone softened somewhat:

"What nonsense are you talking about? I'm just worried you won't be used to living here."

Shen Huijun lowered her head and whispered:

"Xiang Dong is busy with work. It's good here; I can help Tingting with her studies, and I can also study in peace. I want to stay here for a while longer."

Song Xianglan nodded.

Shen Huijun has a too soft personality; it would be good if she could learn to be a little more assertive from me.

"Stay as long as you want. This is your home."

Song Xianglan put the flashlight in her pocket.

He grabbed a handful of hard candy, stuffed it into his pocket, and went out the door.

Liu Dahua had been waiting at her doorstep for a long time.

He had two old, military-green water bottles slung over his shoulder and two cold steamed buns in his hand.

"Walk."

The two elderly women, whose combined age was just over one hundred, walked briskly toward the harbor.

The harbor was full of fishing boats.

The air was filled with the salty smell of the sea.

Liu Dahua skillfully untied the rope and jumped onto a small boat belonging to her in-laws.

This small boat is what the couple usually uses when they go out to sea.

Fishing is only permitted in nearshore waters.

It was Song Xianglan's first time riding in such a small boat. As soon as she stepped on it, the boat lurched violently.

Her face paled instantly.

The boat left the shore, and the wind was not strong.

But the waves continued to lap against the side of the boat.

The small boat bobbed up and down on the sea like a leaf.

The feeling of weightlessness made Song Xianglan's stomach churn, and the sweet potato porridge she had just eaten kept rising up her throat.

She clung tightly to the gunwale.

He leaned out and vomited with a "whoosh".

Liu Dahua: "Even you, Song Xianglan, have times when you're afraid?"

She rowed the boat while joking around, but her hands steadily controlled the direction.

Song Xianglan scooped up a handful of cold seawater and rinsed her mouth.

He then unscrewed the kettle and took a big gulp of cold water to calm his nerves.

"I'm afraid I still have to come. As long as I can make money, I'll go even if it's a storm of knives, let alone seasickness.

A hint of appreciation shone in Liu Dahua's eyes.

Lufeng Island is a deserted island in the waters surrounding Qingyang.

There's usually not a soul around; only smugglers occasionally stop there.

The ship's hull struck the reef, making a slight scraping sound.

Liu Dahua nimbly jumped off the boat, waded through waist-deep water, and used all her strength to drag the boat to the shore. She found a large rock and tied the anchor rope tightly to it.

She turned around.

He reached out his hand to Song Xianglan, whose legs were still weak on the boat:

"Come on down, we've arrived."

Song Xianglan took a deep breath, took off her shoes and socks and held them in her hands, then stepped barefoot into the icy seawater.

The sand and gravel underfoot hurt painfully.

We got ashore.

She shook the sand off her feet, dried them with the old towel hanging around her neck, and put her shoes back on.

The island was deathly silent, with only the howling sound of the sea breeze blowing through the mangroves.

Song Xianglan knew there were people on the island.