Su Xiangwan had heard that milk powder usually sold for five yuan a can, but he was selling it for just one yuan.

He must have a soft heart.

So, she took the milk powder and malted milk essence and handed him a large union card, waiting for him to return the eight yuan.

“Comrade Su, is there anything else you need help with? Didn’t I tell you at the hospital that as long as you want, the organization, the government, and I will be there for you?” Zhao Guodong bravely spoke again, hiding his excitement.

He would never forget what he saw when he went to the hospital to counsel her.

Her mother-in-law had been muttering under her breath, blaming her for killing her son, and Su Xiangwan, lying in bed, pale with thin arms hanging down, her brows furrowed, and her lips drained of color, seemed almost like a tragic figure.

Somehow, Zhao Guodong thought of the famous painting The Death of Marat.

From that moment on, he could never forget her.

“Cadre Zhao, let’s not talk about that. I have an important matter that I need your help with,” Su Xiangwan immediately said.

Well, in the original story, Zhao Guodong had actually been pursuing the original owner for quite some time.

After all, Song Lao’s death meant that the original owner was bound to remarry.

However, just as Zhao, the cadre, had started developing feelings for her and was about to pursue her, for some unknown reason, he got into trouble and was sent to the “cow shed” (a form of punishment or re-education in the countryside).

Poor guy.

“You work at the credit union in Hongxing Township, right? The credit union knows everyone, right? I need to handle something, but I don’t dare to go in,” Su Xiangwan pretended to be a timid laboring woman, nervously saying.

Zhao Guodong clapped his hands and said, “What’s the problem? Come on, I’ll take you there.”

In the vast rural areas, the credit union was the only bank.

“Comrade Wang Jiahui, this is the family member of Song Qingshan. She has something to consult with you. Could you help her out?” Zhao Guodong, as expected, was quite familiar with the clerk inside.

“Guodong, which Song Qingshan? Is he the martyr from our village?” Wang Jiahui, the normally reserved clerk, became very warm. She immediately opened the counter and smiled.

Su Xiangwan placed the letter of introduction, the martyr certificate of Song Lao, and their marriage certificate neatly on the counter.

“Comrade Wang Jiahui, here’s the situation. My husband didn’t just sacrifice his life for the country, but his account is still open, right? It hasn’t been closed, right?”

As a rural woman, with a child on her back and another by her side, plus a letter of introduction and a marriage certificate, her documents were complete.

“Yes, the account is still open because the organization may still be sending money to him. You need to keep the martyr certificate safe. There’s a new policy. In the future, to withdraw the martyr’s pension, you’ll need to present the martyr certificate if the account is in the martyr’s name,” Wang Jiahui explained.

Su Xiangwan slapped her thigh and said, “But our passbook got lost, and I’m worried someone else might take it and withdraw the money. Comrade Wang, could you help me report it as lost?”

Wang Jiahui, full of enthusiasm, immediately took action: “Sister Su, the passbook has been reported as lost. However, the replacement passbook will need to be sent from the county, and it will be delivered to your Hongxing Commune. Just make sure to check for it.”

The smooth process was all thanks to Zhao Guodong’s help.

Wang Jiahui had a bit of a soft spot for Zhao Guodong, which Su Xiangwan was well aware of.

“So, can you tell me how much money is in the account now?” Su Xiangwan asked, concerned.

The clerk looked down, likely checking the ledger: “The total is 516 yuan. 500 is the principal, and 16 is the interest for two years.”

“Great, thank you, Comrade.”

Indeed, the 500 yuan was still intact in the account.

Of course, the money in this account was significant.

After all, the son had died without a proper burial, and before the old lady Song kicked Su Xiangwan out, she didn’t dare to use the money.

Now, with the passbook reported lost, once the new one arrived and Su Xiangwan had it in hand, no one else could touch it.

It could only be said that against the power of modern technology, the little resources of the rural villagers—armed with nothing but their basic means—were defenseless.

The journey back was under a scorching sun, the heat unbearable.

Zhao Guodong insisted on walking her to Hongxing Commune, and Su Xiangwan couldn’t refuse his warm gesture, so she let him accompany her.

Goudan had grown tired and couldn’t walk anymore, so Zhao Guodong volunteered to carry him.

Along the way, they exchanged a few words.

They were almost at Hongxing Commune when Zhao Guodong was about to leave.

But Goudan was still asleep on his shoulder.

In his sleep, he suddenly called out, “Dad.” Well, the child was just talking in his sleep.

Zhao Guodong paused, then laughed, “This kid—he really makes my heart ache. Little Su, although Song Laoda is a martyr, he’s been gone for two years now. Haven’t you thought about your own personal matters?”

Su Xiangwan had already noticed that Goudan was pretending to be asleep.

She didn’t answer Zhao Guodong’s question but instead said, “Since this child likes calling you Dad, why don’t I send him to you? I’ll leave now, goodbye.”

She took a few steps, but Goudan quickly chased after her, like a little wolf cub: “Mom, Mom! I don’t want a dad, I only want Mom!”

See, the little brat must have been dazzled by Zhao Guodong’s good looks, trying to play matchmaker for her.

Meanwhile, Ludan, though not with his mother, was sitting by the large willow tree at the village edge, staring intently at the village entrance.

A child without a mother is like a piece of grass; a child without a father walks along the wall.

Ludan had already tasted the bitterness of walking along the wall for two years.

But if he lost his mother too, he would really be nothing but a blade of grass stuck to the wall.

He feared that his mother might quietly leave because she couldn’t endure the old lady’s bullying, but at the same time, he had to let her go buy milk powder for his little sister. So here he was, sitting by the road, waiting.

“You Ludan! I’ve been looking for you all day, and here you are slacking off!”

“I’m waiting for Mom. And she said picking up dung would make me stink. That’s not good,” Ludan said loudly.

Hearing this, Old Lady Song was furious: “Your mom killed your dad. She’s a bad omen. You’re her child, so of course, you’re destined to pick dung. If you don’t pick dung, where will your food come from? Hurry up and get to work!”

As she spoke, she placed a dung basket around Ludan’s neck.

Just then, Su Xiangwan arrived and snatched the basket away. Half of the dung spilled over the old lady’s head.

Su Xiangwan coldly looked at her and said, “Old lady, you’d better remember this. I have no familial ties to you. You know exactly how you’ve mistreated me, and I know it too. But from now on, I won’t tolerate it anymore. If you ever try to put a dung basket on my son again, I’ll pour donkey dung, cow dung, and horse dung on your head. If I accidentally kick you into a dung pile, it’ll be what you deserve.”

Old Lady Song snatched the basket and, pointing at Su Xiangwan, was about to slap her.

Su Xiangwan quickly rolled up her sleeves and, with a sharp scream, shouted, “Look! Everyone, look! That damned Song Old Lady is picking on her widowed daughter-in-law again!”

But Su Xiangwan didn’t back down.

She still had half a basket of manure and started pouring it over the old lady’s head with all her might.

The old lady was gasping for air from the manure pouring onto her.

She managed to grab her daughter-in-law’s arm, but once the manure on her head was cleared, her daughter-in-law didn’t stop; instead, she continued to fight back.

“What’s going on again?” The head of the brigade, Song Guangguang, happened to pass by. “Big sister, can you go home and fight your daughter-in-law? You’re a woman of the new era, can’t you stop using those old social methods on her?”

The old lady pointed to herself. “Look, second brother, look at me! I’m covered in manure!”

But the donkey manure and sheep manure were dry, and thanks to her slapping around, most of it had already fallen to the ground.

There was nothing left on her.

Su Xiangwan pointed at the manure all over the ground, loudly accusing, “She threw manure at me and hit me! Second Uncle, you tell me, what’s the right way to handle this?”

Song Guangguang pulled the old lady away and scolded, “Big sister, at least go home and beat your daughter-in-law! You’re making a scene on the main road—how am I supposed to do my job as the village head?”

For two years, only Old Lady Song had hit Su Xiangwan, and this was the first time Su Xiangwan had fought back.

Who would have believed she would hit someone? Not many, right?

Su Xiangwan gave the old lady a cold look, picked up the Gou Dan, and left.

She was an expert at framing and at the antics of rural women making a scene.

“Mom, mom!” Lu Dan followed her, whispering.

Well, the little child didn’t know what was going on, but one thing was certain—his mother hadn’t quietly left the village with money.

She had come back.

And she had even bought him his favorite fried dough rings.

All of this was what little Lu Dan had always dreamed of.

It was exactly what he wanted.

The sunset, the evening glow, and the drooping willows—at this moment, this mountain village, with the slim figure of his mother, the little sister with bright eyes sitting on her back, and the little Gou Dan, as thin as a monkey, were all bathed in golden light.

It was so beautiful.

That must have been the glow of happiness, golden and bright.

Lu Dan kept repeating, “It’s so good, so good!”

Su Xiangwan gently stretched out her hand, and Lu Dan immediately grabbed it.

“Do you want to split from grandma?” She asked softly, holding the child’s hand.

Both Lu Dan and Gou Dan’s eyes were shining with determination, and they nodded in unison: “Yes.”

“We’re going to prepare to split now,” Su Xiangwan said lightly.

Yes, in the original story, in just a day or two, the second son of the Song family, who was serving in the military, would return home to visit.

Originally, the plot was supposed to unfold with the original character selling her child, offering herself, and secretly going to Winterwind City to meet her brother-in-law.

But since Su Xiangwan knew the plot, she wasn’t afraid of any of it.

What she wanted now was to use the opportunity of the brother-in-law’s annual visit as a springboard to quickly strike back, divide the family fortune, and fight for a fair share.