Su Xiangwan also found it strange.

According to the original story, Liu Zaiye had been drawn to her back then because of her miserable state, feeling compelled to intervene.

But now, she was capable and had Song Qingshan with her. What was his problem?

Was he suffering from Stockholm syndrome, enjoying being tortured?

“Mom, don’t worry about him. He’ll leave after a couple of days when he’s hungry,” Su Xiangwan reassured Zhao Yinshuang.

Zhao Yinshuang had her own plan in mind.

She picked two cucumbers and two tomatoes from the basket and quietly went to find Zhao Guonian.

Zhao Guonian had been sent down from Beijing.

He was originally a financial expert from the Bank of Communications.

After being sent to prison for labor reform and then to a farm, he had been working as a laborer in the seventh team for over ten years.

His wife had long since divorced him and remarried his superior, even changing the children’s surname to prevent him from seeing them.

For this reason, Zhao Guonian was deeply troubled.

Moreover, as an intellectual, he had knowledge but lacked physical strength. In a labor camp like this, being bullied by someone like Ma Xijun, who couldn’t even read, had become a daily occurrence for him.

In order to avoid being beaten, he often took the hardest jobs—like shoveling manure or composting—jobs no one else wanted, simply to avoid Ma Xijun.

Just then, after finishing a manure pile in the field, Zhao Guonian sat down to catch his breath when a cucumber was handed to him.

“Comrade Zhao, is this a cucumber? Such a rare thing! Keep it for the kids. Why are you giving it to me?” Zhao Guonian, seeing it was Zhao Yinshuang, quickly reached out to push it back.

Zhao Yinshuang sat down in the field, smiling. “My son-in-law brought half a basket of cucumbers. Go ahead and eat it. Afterward, make sure you rinse your mouth so others don’t smell cucumber on your breath.”

Zhao Guonian smiled and said, “Okay.” But just as he was about to eat, he heard heavy footsteps, and he knew Ma Xijun was coming.

He immediately stood up to flee.

Zhao Yinshuang, still holding two tomatoes she wanted to give him, watched as his legs, stiff from age and years of hard labor, resembled those of a limping rabbit.

She didn’t find it funny, but rather felt inexplicably sad.

The seventh team of Baiyang Farm had tough conditions, but aside from Ma Xijun, it seemed everyone else was decent. If anyone had a kind heart, it was Zhao Guonian.

He often helped her with work, but never like Ma Xijun, who would demand something in exchange for every little favor.

Of course, it was likely because Zhao Guonian was from the city, and he didn’t look down on women like her, even though he didn’t have much strength, he still tried to help. But when it came to the more opportunistic behaviors, he steered clear.

Zhao Yinshuang heard Ma Xijun’s footsteps and quickly ran off.

With the vegetables and the flour Su Xiangwan had brought, today Song Qingshan had also brought a lot of chives and eggs.

Zhao Yinshuang mixed the chives with the flour, made a batter, and cooked it in a large pot.

After it cooled, she sliced it and then fried it with salted wild boar meat.

“What kind of food is this?” one of the kids asked curiously.

Su Xiangwan, as usual, gave the fried oil residue to a few kids, saying, “This is fried pancake leaf pieces, soft and tasty. When you go home, ask your mom to make it for you.”

“But we don’t have any wheat flour at home, Grandma,” said the child, licking his dirty hands.

Su Xiangwan, who didn’t have much flour at home herself, felt awkward.

Still, if Township Head Xie really implemented her method of fertilization on the farm, these kids would have white flour to eat in just two or three years.

Su Fufu, with a few nephews and other kids, was kicking a real football on the barley field, having a great time.

Liu Zaiye, like a lonely ghost, stood by the side, watching.

Song Qingshan called out a few of the younger ones, handed them some cucumbers, and when they ate, they ran off to continue playing football.

Liu Zaiye grabbed a cucumber, bit into it, and pointed at the kids kicking the ball. “That ball is mine. I’m going to shoot it with a gun and see if they can still have fun.”

He was unhappy with his own life, so he enjoyed ruining things—he even wanted to destroy the ball that the kids were kicking.

“Liu Zaiye, Xiangwan, and your wife, that little Ma, Ma Chunhua—don’t they look very alike?” Song Qingshan suddenly said.

Liu Zaiye spat and said, “Song Qingshan, you must have a big grasshopper stuck in your eye. My wife is a proper city person. Your wife is just a country woman. How can she be compared to mine? They look alike? She doesn’t even compare to my wife’s little toe. Really.”

Song Qingshan looked at Liu Zaiye, silent, but his expression slowly changed.

“Not only is he uneducated, but he’s vulgar—so utterly vulgar. The worst part is, he’s already fathered three children. How can he compare to my wife? I’m telling you, Song Qingshan, my wife is one of a kind in this world,” Liu Zaiye threw the cucumber aside. “Your wife is dark-skinned, ugly, and that shabby little green dress of hers—it’s so ugly, it’s like she’s been putting a green hat on you!”

If Liu Zaiye wasn’t guilty, he wouldn’t have been able to speak so angrily.

Of course, the result was that while Su Fufu was kicking a ball with a group of kids, they suddenly heard a loud scream from Liu Zaiye, who had been standing on the sidelines.

Then, they saw him being dragged behind a haystack by someone.

A few kids with the football ran after him and saw Song Qingshan pounding his fists into Liu Zaiye’s stomach.

“I’m leaving now, really. I’ll leave right away. Song Qingshan, let’s settle the score when we get back to Qing Shui County,” Liu Zaiye said, struggling to get up from behind the haystack.

After several attempts, he still couldn’t get up and had to be dragged away by Song Qingshan.

Of course, cursing as he was, Liu Zaiye finally seemed to be leaving Baiyang Town for good.

Song Qingshan only had a bowl of fried pancake leaf pieces at home, washed his hair quickly, and hurried off to the construction site of the Soil Engineering Bureau.

In his mind, if Liu Zaiye didn’t leave this time, it must mean he had gone completely crazy. After all, how could he say such things about Su Xiangwan?

That evening, as usual, they sat outside to cool off.

Since Su Xiangwan was idle, she saw a group of women sitting around and decided to talk to them about how to plant medicinal herbs in their own plots for next year’s spring sale.

The most precious items in the basket that Song Qingshan had brought were two large watermelons, one of which weighed at least twenty pounds.

It was likely that she’d leave tomorrow or the day after.

Su Xiangwan decided to cut one of the watermelons and invite the neighbors to share it.

The neighbors here were mostly from different parts of the country, and it seemed that Zhao Yinshuang was also planning to leave, so everyone gathered to chat with her.

The adults were reluctant to eat the watermelon, so they gave it all to the children, and after the children finished, they started munching on the rind.

Su Xiangwan had originally intended to offer some to Liu Zaiye, but she couldn’t find him anywhere. When she checked near the supply and marketing cooperative, she saw that his jeep had already left.

Clearly, the mosquitoes here, which were worse than the wheat, had finally scared that scoundrel away.

“Aunty, your son got into a fight!” suddenly shouted one of the kids, running toward her.

Su Xiangwan instinctively asked, “Was it my oldest one?”

She knew that Li Chengze was the one who caused the most worry for her.

Though the Qing Dynasty had long passed and the Haixi 18 clans were now a thing of history, Su Xiangwan feared that Li Chengze might still be ignorant of the times and boast about being a descendant of the 18 clan chieftains. After all, landlords and chieftains were now subjects of heavy criticism.

But the child responded, “It’s Song Donghai! He broke a kid’s bones!”

What?

Li Chengze?

He wasn’t the troublemaker!

When Su Xiangwan arrived at the barley field, she saw that Ma Xijun was actually fighting with Li Chengze.

A crowd had gathered around the edge of the field.

Ma Xijun, a tall, dark-skinned northern man, was holding a club, swearing loudly, “Where did this little bastard come from, daring to hit my son? Let me show you what happens when you mess with me!”

Li Chengze, also holding a club, was fast on his feet, constantly circling Ma Xijun, but not running far. Clearly, he was trying to provoke Ma Xijun into fighting him directly.

At that moment, Ma Xijun swore, “You little bastard, born of a slut! I’ll beat you senseless today!”

Just then, Li Chengze swung his club and hit Ma Xijun squarely on the nose.

The nose is one of the most sensitive parts of the body, and the blow made Ma Xijun stagger.

With a yell, Li Chengze shouted, “If you’re brave, come hit me! I’ll let you keep insulting my mom!”

Ma Xijun, who was strong but had previously been holding back, lost his patience and rushed at Li Chengze, ignoring the club he had swung at him.

“Ma Xijun, let’s see if you dare hit a child again,” Su Xiangwan shouted sharply, intending to protect Li Chengze. To her surprise, Ma Xijun, probably drunk, suddenly turned and charged at her when he heard her voice.

He swung his club at her, and Su Xiangwan instinctively dodged, only for the blow to land squarely on Zhao Yinshuang’s face, who was standing beside her.

Su Xiangwan, with her fiery temper, immediately stormed up to him, holding the club.

“Xiangwan, don’t! Don’t fight him, we can’t afford to mess with him!” Zhao Yinshuang pulled Su Xiangwan back.

This man was an abuser, and in the book, Zhao Yinshuang had even been killed by him in the end.

Without thinking, Su Xiangwan swung her club at him.

…

Liu Zaiye had indeed left, for real this time.

However, after driving to Haixi County, he found a state-owned restaurant, ordered a table full of dishes, and a bottle of soda.

He enjoyed a large glass of soda, muttering to himself, “A simple meal of pancake leaves, what’s so special about it? Today, I, Liu Zaiye, ate a whole banquet. Who cares about their food?”

But eating alone just didn’t feel right.

As he sipped his soda, he couldn’t understand why, but he felt strangely tipsy.

Then, after a moment of reflection, he realized he was already thirty years old, had no children, no wife, and his life had turned out to be truly miserable.

So, even though a whole table of dishes had been ordered, Liu Zaiye only ate a few bites and finished the lamb soup.

After filling up the tank, he was supposed to drive back to the provincial capital, but as he gripped the steering wheel, he ended up heading toward Baiyang Town instead.

At this point, Liu Zaiye was still trying to comfort himself: “Just consider it a detour, I’ll take a longer route and be fine.”

Who would have thought, when he reached the intersection of the Seventh Team’s road, he saw a group of people fighting in the wheat field.

This couldn’t be ignored.

Liu Zaiye jumped out of the car and saw that in the large wheat field, Su Xiangwan was holding a stick and, with Li Chengze, Su Fufu, Lu Dan, and Gou Dan, the four of them were beating a big, burly man.

Without even thinking, Liu Zaiye drew his gun and fired a warning shot into the air, shouting loudly, “Who the hell is beating someone?”

At the sound of the gunshot, everyone stopped.

Su Xiangwan was still fiercely swinging her stick.

Ma Xijun’s hand was just as fast as Su Xiangwan’s.

After she struck him once, he hit her three times in return.

But Su Xiangwan was venting her anger, so she kept on swinging.

Fighting with a woman was obviously easier for Ma Xijun, but just as he grabbed her and was about to throw her to the ground, the gun was already pressed to his forehead.

“What’s going on here?” After Ma Xijun was tied up, Liu Zaiye asked Su Xiangwan.

Su Xiangwan turned to Lǘ Dàn, “Tell your mom, why are you hitting people?”

Lǘ Dàn remained silent.

“A child fighting another child, why should an adult get involved?” Liu Zaiye asked, trying to be understanding.

After all, with Ma Xijun’s size, it made sense for him to fight three or four regular people.

Let alone, a woman and a few children.

Su Fufu was the one who had been beaten the most; his body was covered in welts from the sticks.

Su Xiangwan took a bite of watermelon, her face full of anger, and said, “If someone bullies my kids, do I really need to consider whether I can win or not? Even if we can’t win, we still have to fight.”

“Wasn’t it your son who hit my son first?” Ma Xijun, still tied up, was furious.

His son, a chubby boy about ten years old, was rubbing his eyes and crying loudly, “Yes, Song Donghai hit me for no reason, and that’s why my dad fought back.”

Suddenly, Lu Dan stood up, walked over to the boy, and slapped him. No one could stop him in time.

“You son of a bitch, you said my mom is a prostitute!” Lu Dan screamed, and immediately followed it with a series of kicks and punches.

The normally honest, gentle, and brotherly Song Donghai suddenly turned savage, his face twisted with rage.

At that moment, he resembled Gou Dan’s anger when Su Xiangwan first saw him furious.

In front of these children, you could do anything, but you could never insult their mothers.