Chapter 7: Killing Zhao Pozi’s Chicken

“Zhao Laosan’s actions amount to an attempted theft. Even if we handed him over to the Public Security Bureau, at most he’d receive a verbal warning.

So Old Cheng and I made the call—we demanded 100 yuan and 50 catties of grain coupons as compensation for you.

Do you think that’s fair?

The money and coupons are with me now. If you agree, I’ll hand them over. If not, we can re-discuss it.”

Bai Ruoqiao hadn’t expected him to handle it this way.

She had only wanted Zhao Laosan to bear the stigma of being labeled a thief.

She hadn’t really considered demanding compensation.

After all, dealing with someone like Zhao Pozi and trying to wring anything out of her was no easy task.

But she figured these two men must’ve truly lost their temper yesterday to be able to skin Zhao Pozi like that.

Zhao Sihai turned to look at Bai Ruoqiao.

Fang Hanwu also glanced her way.

Bai Ruoqiao shook her head,
“No objections. Thank you, Captain, and Village Chief, for handling this.”

Fang Hanwu let out a quiet sigh of relief and waved his hand with a smile.
“No need to thank us. It’s our responsibility.”

As he spoke, he pulled out a cloth pouch containing the money and coupons and handed it to Zhao Sihai.

Thinking about how he was almost used as a pawn last night, he still felt unsure how to face them.

Zhao Sihai took the pouch and expressed his thanks.

Fang Hanwu thought for a moment and then gave another reminder:
“But, with your mother’s temper, I doubt she’ll let this go easily. You’d best be prepared.”

Zhao Sihai pressed his lips together, eyes turning deep.

Bai Ruoqiao, on the other hand, tugged the corners of her mouth into a faint smile.

She wasn’t afraid of Zhao Pozi causing trouble—
What she feared was her not causing any.

Zhao Sihai nodded.“I understand. Thanks, Uncle Fang.”

By now, it was around seven or eight in the village.

Most of the villagers had already gone off to work.

They stopped the bicycle at the gate of the Zhao household.

Upon seeing the locked gate, Zhao Sihai’s face darkened.

He reached out and took his son from Bai Ruoqiao’s arms with one hand, then shouldered the bicycle with the other and walked straight up.

He raised his leg and kicked the door hard—half of it fell inward.

The remaining door, still locked, now looked rather ridiculous.

Bai Ruoqiao’s tightly pressed lips curled up slightly.

A nosy head that had been peeking from behind the neighbor’s courtyard wall quickly ducked out of sight.

The house was silent.

Zhao Xiaohui, afraid of a beating, had run off to her eldest sister’s house during the night.

Zhao Jinhua had also gone there early in the morning to find her.

Zhao Gensheng had gone to work.

Only Zhao Laosan was left lying in the house.

When he heard the door being kicked in, he was so startled he nearly rolled off the bed.

After hearing no further noise for a while, he gritted through the pain and dragged a table and some cabinets to block the door.

All the while, he cursed Zhao Sihai’s ancestors for eighteen generations.

Then, both resentful and smug, he finished off the remaining braised pork on the table in a few quick bites.

Just wait until I recover, then we’ll see who wins.

Bai Ruoqiao was preparing to cook in the kitchen, but Zhao Sihai stopped her.

“I’ll do it. You and An’an get some rest.”

“Alright,” Bai Ruoqiao didn’t argue.

“Mom, Dad can cook too?” Zhao An’an asked with curiosity and admiration.

His puppy-dog eyes sparkled like little stars.

Dad is so amazing.

Bai Ruoqiao smiled and pinched his still-chubby cheeks.

“Of course! And his cooking is delicious, too.”

Zhao Sihai had started doing housework at the age of five.

By ten, he could work like two grown men—quick and capable.

In contrast, Zhao Laosan, even at 26, had never washed a single dish.

Many people couldn’t understand why Zhao Pozi was so blatantly biased.

Bai Ruoqiao hadn’t understood either—until she learned Zhao Sihai’s background.

Zhao Sihai wasn’t Zhao Pozi’s biological son. He had been adopted from somewhere—no one knew exactly where.

At the time, the Zhao family had fled famine and arrived in Nanyang Village, so no one there knew the truth.

It wasn’t until her previous life, when Zhao Sihai turned himself in, that he revealed it.

He had known all along that he wasn’t Zhao Gensheng and Zhao Pozi’s biological son.

Still, even if they didn’t give him life, they had raised him.

So long as they didn’t cross the line, Zhao Sihai was still willing to endure—he saw it as repaying a debt of gratitude.

He just hadn’t expected that his tolerance would only embolden the wolves.

She was tidying up when she heard An’an suddenly let out a soft and surprised “Wah~”.

Turning to look, she saw the little one had already opened the small cloth bundle that had been held tightly in his arms.

Inside were lard candies, each about the size of a pinky finger—around thirty pieces in total.

It was the first time the little guy had seen candies like this, and his eyes were filled with wonder.

“Mommy, this candy smells so good~”

Seeing her son seemed to really like the smell, Bai Ruoqiao smiled gently and picked up one.

She unwrapped the greasy paper and brought the lard candy to his lips.

“Chew carefully, don’t swallow it whole—it might be a bit sticky.”

But the little guy pressed his lips tightly together. Though his eyes were full of longing, he pushed the candy back.

In a soft, spoiled voice, he said, “Mommy eats first.”

Bai Ruoqiao’s heart instantly melted into a puddle. She didn’t refuse. Nodding, she placed the candy into her own mouth.

Sweet and soft—the taste and texture were exactly how her heart felt at that moment.

Then she unwrapped another piece. Only then did the little guy open wide and gobble it down.

He immediately widened his eyes, filled with surprise and joy.

“Mommy, the candy is so sweet~”

Bai Ruoqiao chuckled and gently poked his puffed-up cheek.

“No talking with food in your mouth. You might choke.”

“Mm-hmm!” The little guy nodded eagerly like a bobblehead.

Then, with a blissful look, he rolled the candy around in his mouth with his tongue.

He couldn’t even bear to bite it.

Zhao Sihai was fast. Before long, he returned carrying a tray.

Bai Ruoqiao’s expression showed surprise when she saw the shredded chicken porridge in the pot.

“Where did the chicken come from?”

Zhao Pozi was notoriously stingy. Even though she doted on her precious son, she rarely splurged on meat.

Zhao Sihai’s lips curved slightly.
“Just killed it. There’s still soup simmering on the stove—for you and An’an to recover a bit.”

Bai Ruoqiao opened her mouth in surprise.

Then she smiled with pursed lips.

She thought to herself that if Zhao Pozi found out, she’d probably go berserk.

Each household was only allowed to raise two chickens.

So those two chickens of Zhao Pozi’s were guarded like her eyeballs—they were for laying eggs.

But right now, Bai Ruoqiao wasn’t worried at all. On the contrary, she felt quite pleased.

Still, she asked,

“Aren’t you afraid your mom will raise hell when she finds out?”

Seeing that she seemed to be in a good mood, Zhao Sihai relaxed too.

After a moment of thought, he said,
“Qiaoqiao, I plan to bring up splitting the household once they come back.”

Bai Ruoqiao was surprised.

Dividing the family had, of course, been part of her own plan.

She just hadn’t expected Zhao Sihai to have thought of it too.

“But… it might come at a cost. I was discharged due to my injury, and they’ve already assigned me a job. I was thinking—”

Before he could finish, Bai Ruoqiao stopped him.

She already knew about the job.

In her previous life, he had given up that job to save her.

But this time around, the Zhao family shouldn’t expect to gain even a crumb.

“No need.”

Zhao Sihai was stunned, looking at her in confusion.

Bai Ruoqiao smiled.
“I have my own way of getting them to agree—so long as you don’t blame me.”

Zhao Sihai frowned slightly, his tone serious.
“As long as it won’t hurt you.”

Zhao Sihai hadn’t served in the military for nothing.

The moment he saw the blood and injuries on her foot, he knew something deeper had happened last night.

After piecing the situation together, combined with what he knew of Lao-San’s character, he could guess most of what had occurred.

This was also why—even if he had to be skinned—he was determined to split the family.

He had already repaid the Zhao family with everything he had. He owed them nothing.

But filial piety was a burden too heavy to escape.

As long as the ties weren’t formally severed, that shackle remained.

Even if he didn’t think of himself, he had to consider his son’s future.

“It won’t hurt me—don’t worry. Just watch.” Bai Ruoqiao finally felt truly at ease.

As long as Zhao Sihai didn’t hold her back, that was all she needed.