“You short-lived wretch, let me tell you, you won’t come to a good end,” Shen Zhilan growled through clenched teeth.

Now that things had completely fallen apart, Shen Zhilan no longer held back.

“Hu Banxian said you wouldn’t live past eighteen. I can’t wait to see how many more days you can last.”

“Three hundred and sixty-five days a year, and you spend three hundred of them drinking that foul-smelling herbal soup. What’s the point of living? If I were you, I’d just drown myself in a puddle.”

“You still have the nerve to blame the Su family for not wanting you. With your cursed short life and constant need for medicine, who’d dare to marry you? What if they just finished the wedding banquet and had to buy a coffin for your funeral?”

Seeing that even being thrown out of the house didn’t shut her up, Li Qiuhua stormed out with the morning’s dishwater. She flung open the door and splashed the water right at Shen Zhilan’s face.

SPLASH!

Already soaked from the rain, Shen Zhilan now looked like a drowned rat.

“Get lost!” Li Qiuhua roared, her voice full of fury.

Shen Zhilan froze for a moment, startled by Li Qiuhua’s fierce demeanor, then covered her mouth and ran away crying.

Li Qiuhua slammed the door shut behind her and turned to her youngest daughter.

“Don’t listen to your second sister’s nonsense. That Hu Banxian is a fraud who tricks people out of food and drink. His words are nothing but lies,” she said urgently, her voice tinged with worry as she looked at Shen Zhihuan.

Dr. Hua had said her youngest daughter’s illness often worsened because of overthinking and unresolved emotions.

“Mother, I know.” Shen Zhihuan smiled and took the wooden basin from Li Qiuhua’s hands, carrying it back to the kitchen.

The prophecy of her short life had been ingrained in the original Shen Zhihuan’s memory since childhood, all thanks to Shen Zhilan.

How much hatred could one harbor to wish for their own sister’s death?

Was it simply because the original Shen Zhihuan was physically weak and couldn’t work?

Having grown up with her grandparents, Shen Zhihuan couldn’t comprehend such malice.

As for the prophecy itself…

The original Shen Zhihuan was already gone, so wasn’t the prophecy fulfilled?

Even if it wasn’t, what could she do?

If fate was unavoidable, so be it.

“Why don’t you lie down for a while? I’ll call you when lunch is ready,” Li Qiuhua said as she started preparing food.

Because Xiao Weidong had to return to school after lunch, the family always ate earlier than usual.

“Mother, I’m not a child anymore. I’ll rest when I’m tired.” Shen Zhihuan sat down by the stove and added some dry leaves to the fire.

As the red flames flickered and danced under the pot, Shen Zhihuan’s lips curled into a faint smile.

She thought of a saying: Life is half mundane and half serene joy.

Thinking of a different kind of “mundane,” Shen Zhi Huan looked up and said, “Mother, with Old Lady Qian’s personality, I’m afraid she’ll cause trouble soon. Be prepared for that.”

That woman cared more about money than anything else.

Now that her eldest sister had let something slip, who knew what schemes the old lady might come up with?

“Don’t worry. I know how to handle her,” Li Qiuhua said, glancing at the rain, her eyes glinting with anger.

If a mother didn’t care for her own daughters, what good was it for her to feel sorry for her granddaughters?

Qian Zhizhi watched the rain dripping from the eaves and felt irritated.

She had arranged with He Chunsheng to visit the city’s department store today to look at women’s wristwatches.

But this wretched rain! Why couldn’t it have fallen sooner or later, instead of today?

Shen Zhimei glanced at Qian Zhizhi’s displeased face and cautiously approached Old Lady Qian, keeping her head low to avoid provoking her.

Qian Zhizhi rolled her eyes at Shen Zhimei’s submissive demeanor.

She had seen plenty of meek daughters-in-law, but none as spineless as Shen Zhimei.

Even Niu Erniang, notorious for her temper, didn’t treat her daughter-in-law as harshly as this family did, and yet Shen Zhimei was still such a doormat.

Someone like her giving birth to a son? That’d be a miracle.

“Mother, what are we having for lunch?” Shen Zhimei asked timidly.

“I want braised pork, big meat buns, pork ribs, apples, peaches, sticky rice cakes, and sponge cake. Do you have any of that?” Old Lady Qian paused her sunflower seed munching to snap angrily.

Shen Zhimei bit her lip and didn’t dare to say another word.

“Who’s upset Mother again?” Qian Xingsheng’s muffled voice came from the adjacent room, followed by the sound of footsteps.

Bang! The door, which had been cracked open, was immediately slammed shut and barred from the inside.

“Don’t stir up trouble,” scolded Xie Xiaofen, glaring at Qian Xingsheng as she pulled him back to the bed.

Ever since those three returned, Old Lady Qian had been putting on this kind of show every day.

“Mother, why don’t I go pick some wild greens and make soup?” Shen Zhimei hesitated, then suggested.

Old Lady Qian’s face darkened. She glared at Shen Zhimei with a sinister look.

“Then what are you still standing here for? Waiting for me to hire a palanquin to carry you there?”

Shrinking under the scolding, Shen Zhimei quickly grabbed a bamboo hat and basket from the kitchen corner.

Qian Xingwang, who was standing nearby, looked at the increasingly heavy rain, frowned and whispered, “Mother, the rain’s too heavy. Why don’t we just steam some cornbread and cook sweet potato porridge for lunch today?”

Old Lady Qian stood up abruptly.

“Cornbread? Sweet potato porridge? Easy for you to say! What about when Zhizhi gets married? Are you going to offer cornbread and porridge to guests? Or do you want them to gnaw on your bones and drink my old blood?”

“Throughout the year, we’ve got social obligations, eating, drinking, and necessities for such a big household. Do you think money grows on trees?”

“And if we run out of food, will the supply co-op give us credit because you’re so charming?”

Qian Xingwang lowered his head and dared not say another word.

The two little girls, Da Ya and Er Ya, frowned as they watched their mother step into the rain, worry written all over their faces.

“What are you looking at? Get feed the chickens! Do you think you’re princesses or something? You should take a look at your wretched fate,” Old Lady Qian snapped.

The two girls flinched and ran into the kitchen, dumping the worms they had dug up yesterday into the chicken trough.

“Sister, I miss Auntie, Grandma, and Uncle. I want to eat Grandma’s rice porridge and braised pork again,” Er Ya said tearfully, biting her lip.

Er Ya also wanted to say she missed the egg sponge cakes, sticky rice rolls, and candies Auntie had bought them.

“Be good, Er Ya. When Mother has time, she’ll take us to Grandma’s house,” Da Ya said softly, glancing at Old Lady Qian and Qian Zhizhi, who were munching sunflower seeds in the hall. She wiped Er Ya’s tears and whispered reassuringly.

“Sister, I want Uncle to teach me how to read,” Er Ya sniffled.

“I’ll teach you,” Da Ya said. She glanced toward the hall again and, seeing that the two weren’t paying attention, quietly pulled Er Ya into their room.