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

The cicadas were chirping their hearts out in the treetops.

Shen Huijun and Tingting were not at home.

Song Xianglan moved a bamboo chair and sat imposingly at the entrance of the main room, fanning herself with a tattered palm-leaf fan. She coldly watched Yang Jianjun and his wife, who looked like two rats moving house, rummaging through things in a disheveled state.

Torn cotton wadding, a wooden table with a chipped corner, and even that black iron pot that had been used for several years.

Yang Jianjun piled everything onto the borrowed flatbed truck.

With red eyes, Chen Xiuqin walked slowly to the woodpile and reached out to pull out some hard firewood.

"Snapped!"

The slap was crisp and loud, turning Chen Xiuqin's hand bright red.

The frame of the palm-leaf fan in Song Xianglan's hand was very sturdy.

He didn't hold back a single ounce of strength this time.

Chen Xiuqin withdrew her hand, covered the back of her hand, and screamed.

Song Xianglan's eyes were filled with cold light. "Every blade of grass and every tree in this yard belongs to the Song family. Don't touch a single piece of firewood I'm burning. If you want firewood, go chop some yourself from the mountain!"

Tears welled up in Chen Xiuqin's eyes.

He was so frustrated that his face turned purple.

Pointing at the bundle of firewood, he trembled:

"Waaaah... Mom, you can't be so heartless... Also, you took my money, that was my secret stash."

"Your money?"

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

When you married into the Yang family, did you bring a single thread with you?

She had no dowry when she got married, and only wore an old set of clothes.

How much stuff have you sent back to your parents' home in the past few years?

It's all about rice, wheat flour, pork bones, and oil. You even have to take a straw back to your parents' house to fill that bottomless pit.

You have the nerve to talk to me about money?

She spat on the ground.

His gaze swept over Yang Jianjun, who was cowering to the side, too afraid to utter a sound, like a knife.

"Is it the money you earned, or the money that coward Yang Jianjun earned?"

The work points you two earn aren't even enough to feed yourselves.

If it weren't for me raising you all these years, you would have starved to death under some wall long ago.

I've remembered every single one of these debts. You'll have to pay me back, interest and all.

Chen Xiuqin huddled up in a ball after being scolded.

She looked at Yang Jianjun as if pleading for help.

Yang Jianjun kept his head down, wishing he could bury his head in his crotch, and gripped the handles of the flatbed cart tightly with both hands.

Song Xianglan mocked:

"I think you two lumps of shit are worthless, otherwise I would have skinned you alive and taken you to the slaughterhouse to be weighed and sold."

She cursed in the direction of the Yang family's ancestral graves:

"Why didn't Yang Dashan, that despicable bastard, take you with him when he went to the labor camp?"

Leave behind this good-for-nothing.

And that slut Zhang Yujuan, even during her reformation they didn't take you away.

This family of scoundrels, with their male and female debauchery, has produced such unworthy descendants as you. It's as if the Yang family's ancestral graves are emitting black smoke.

The shouts were so loud that dust fell from the courtyard wall in a flurry.

Yang Jianjun was so frightened that he shuddered.

He pushed the flatbed cart and ran. The wheels rolled over a small stone with a loud "bang," and the pots and pans on it shook violently.

He was afraid that if he hesitated even a moment longer, the palm-leaf fan would strike him.

Chen Xiuqin dared not mention money again.

Dragging Dazhuang and Erzhuang along, the family of four rushed out of the courtyard gate like stray dogs, looking utterly pathetic.

They fled towards the dilapidated houses at the west end of the village.

Watching the family roll away, Song Xianglan snorted heavily, turned around and went into the house, slamming the main door shut.

Lin Gang's wife peeked in, carrying a basket.

She came back from the fields to do housework and cook, and saw Song Xianglan wanting to inquire about Lin Fang.

"Auntie..."

Lin Gang's wife wore a barely perceptible forced smile. "Um... Lin Fang... really went home? Why didn't my mother-in-law come back with her?"

Song Xianglan was furious and had nowhere to vent her anger.

He paused in his hand upon hearing this, as he was stringing together a bunch of oyster shells.

Lin Gang's wife was still muttering to herself:

"Auntie, what kind of situation is this?"

Is Lin Fang really going to get a divorce?

This divorced woman's reputation is so bad it's like rotten mud in a gutter. Who would want her in the future?

Besides, the family wasn't well-off to begin with...

Her words reeked of sourness and sarcasm, as if she wished Lin Fang would die in the Geng family rather than get a divorce.

"call out……"

A string of sharp oyster shells flew past with a whoosh.

It landed squarely on Lin Gang's wife's shoulder.

"Ouch!"

Lin Gang's wife screamed, and the basket almost fell to the ground.

"What's it to you if I get divorced? What's it to you where Lin Fang goes?"

Song Xianglan stood in the courtyard, looking like she was about to devour someone. "You paid me to look after your mother-in-law? You're worrying about nothing."

You have a good reputation?

"You have a good reputation, so why didn't the commune give you a 'Heroic Woman Award' to hang on your forehead?"

Lin Gang's wife's shoulder was sore from being hit.

He was choked by this barrage of retorts, his face turning pale, and he retreated while trying to explain himself:

"Auntie, why did you hit me? I... I didn't mean it that way, don't overthink it..."

"Get out of here." Song Xianglan made a move to throw it again.

She looked up and saw the mango tree branches extending into the neighboring house.

He got even angrier:

"This lousy tree is also crooked and deformed, it has inherited the fussy and fussy habits of the old Lin family next door, it's annoying to look at."

Lin Gang's wife shrank back and ran away in a flash.

They didn't dare utter a single word.

Song Xianglan picked up the strung-up oyster shells and strode towards Liu Dahua's house.

Not far from Liu Dahua's yard, there was a pile of oyster shells.

Flies buzzed and flew around.

Grandma Huang came over while Liu Dahua was not at home.

First, they went to Zhang Haiyan's room.

"Tsk tsk tsk, which woman doesn't find childbirth as easy as laying an egg?"

"You're so precious, you even had to stay in confinement for a whole month. You've become so plump and healthy, you've drained my precious grandson of all his life essence."

Zhang Haiyan is holding her newborn baby.

Sitting on the edge of the bed with her head down, tears streamed down her face.

"I see you've picked up all those bad habits from that unreasonable mother-in-law. I heard from Zhu Zi that you want him to get a tubal ligation?"

I bother!

How can you be so cruel, woman? Do you want our Huang family line to end?"

Zhang Haiyan bit her lip.

The baby in my arms was so frightened by that shrill voice that it started crying loudly.

She hurriedly turned her back and unbuttoned her clothes to breastfeed, "Grandma, could you please go out first... I need to breastfeed the baby."

"Oh ho. What are married women afraid of?"

Grandma Huang didn't leave.

Instead, they leaned in to peek inside.

His face was full of disdain.

"What's wrong with me looking? You've already had three kids, why are you always thinking about that kind of thing? Aren't you ashamed!"

Those words are like a knife.

The stab made Zhang Haiyan tremble all over.

After scolding her granddaughter-in-law, Old Mrs. Huang went outside to look at Zhang's mother, who was squatting in the yard prying open oysters.

"You old woman, you have no strength to do any work."

You only do this little bit of work in half a day, and you still have the nerve to take the money?

My husband said, "We paid you to come. Do you think you're just here to eat and not do any work?"

Grandma Huang turned her gaze away.

I saw Zhang Haiyan's little nephew sleeping on the straw mat under the eaves.

He even curled his lip:

"She brought her whole family along to work. Liu Dahua is a spendthrift. She'll squander the Huang family's fortune sooner or later."

Zhang's mother blushed deeply.

She stammered an explanation: "Grandma, my little grandson is very well-behaved. He doesn't cause any trouble and doesn't interfere with my work..."

"Pah! How can it not cause any delay? It's just an eyesore!"

Song Xianglan stepped inside.

A voice louder than thunder:

"I thought I'd gone to the wrong place. Judging by the noise, I thought I'd stumbled into the home of that penniless bastard Huang Laosi, the one who picks his ass and licks his fingers!"

The cursing stopped abruptly.

"Old Mrs. Huang, didn't you swear a few days ago that you'd rather die than set foot in Da Hua's house? Are you back from the dead or just having a sudden burst of energy before death?"

Old Mrs. Huang was so angry that she didn't even have the strength to speak.

Her forehead throbbed; she was terrified of going up the mountain to meet the dead man ahead of schedule.

People in the brigade all said that Song Xianglan was selfish and self-serving, and that she sent Yang Dashan to jail for the slightest thing.

They even said that Wang Dahai was more loyal and righteous than them.

"Your mouth stinks more than an old latrine."

Song Xianglan was still complaining, "As soon as I entered the yard, I smelled a stench of corpses. I wondered if a dead rat had rotted in the corner, but then I saw it was you with your mouth open. With that one peep, the toxic fumes filled the whole village. Aren't you afraid of harming the villagers?"