As the saying goes, “Better to be an ant’s leg than a sparrow’s beak.” Another saying warns, “Sweep only the snow in front of your own door; don’t bother with the frost on others’ roofs.” And yet another advises, “Avoid places where crowds gather.”  

But… Song Ruan heard what sounded like commotion coming from the courtyard to the right and, in a flash, darted out the door.  

If you don’t go where the crowds gather, where do you go? To till the wastelands of hell?  

Being a sparrow’s beak might annoy people, but it sure brings real joy.  

A crowd had already gathered at the entrance of the neighboring courtyard, jostling shoulder to shoulder, necks craned in unison to peer inside.  

Arriving a step too late to catch the start of the drama, Song Ruan scanned the crowd and spotted two familiar faces from the educated youth brigade. Among them, Han Zhenzhen stood out, sporting a large bump on her forehead but with eyes gleaming with excitement.  

She sidled up to them. “Zhenzhen, do you know what’s going on?”  

Seeing her, Han Zhenzhen scooted over to make space, her gaze never leaving the courtyard, her face alight with enthusiasm. “The one wailing inside—I heard it’s that female educated youth from our brigade who just got married, Ye Xiang. The man next to her is her husband, Zhao Weimin.”  

Before she could finish, Hu Yan, her expression torn between fury and exasperation, gritted her teeth and cut in, “What’s going on? Just their earth-shattering, incomprehensible love story, that’s what!”  

Auntie Xu, the village gossip, leaned in. “You city folks always talk in circles. Forget love—Zhao Weimin was helping Widow Bai carry water when he tripped, and they tumbled right on top of each other. His wife found out, and now she’s making a scene.”  

Speaking of Zhao Weimin—well, he lived up to his name (Weimin meaning “for the people”). He was the neighborhood’s famously good-hearted soul, always helping this family fetch water or that family chop firewood. His current wife was someone he’d won over by tirelessly helping her weed her fields.  

Even after marriage, he hadn’t changed his ways. Today, seeing Widow Bai struggling alone with her water buckets, he’d stepped in to help—only to somehow trip and fall right on top of her. Rumor had it he’d pinned her flat beneath him, a scene so explosive it could’ve set the village ablaze.  

Auntie Xu had her suspicions. If there wasn’t something fishy going on, how could he have fallen? They’d all walked these village paths their whole lives—knew every blade of grass, every pothole blindfolded. How do you just trip in broad daylight?  

Not that she was one to judge unfairly, but Widow Bai… well, she wasn’t exactly the upright type. There’d been a string of men under her belt. The outsiders might not know, but the locals had their suspicions.  

Song Ruan’s eyes sparkled with the rapid-fire gleam of gossip, but mindful of her reputation as an eighteen-year-old girl, she held back from asking outright.  

The old aunties, however—women with grandsons aplenty—had no such reservations.  

One of them smirked, wiggling her eyebrows. “You think there’s something going on between them? Last time I saw her walking funny, I thought—her man’s been dead for five years. It’s not like he’s come back to haunt her, right?”  

That piqued the interest of a wiry, sun-dried auntie. “Was that on movie night? I remember wondering where she was. On the way back, I saw a shadow darting into her doorway. Pretty sure I heard someone call out ‘Brother Zhao’ from inside.”  

“Ohhh-ho-ho-ho, Brother Zhao~”  

The women exchanged knowing glances, their laughter curling like smoke, noses wrinkled and eyes squinted in delight.

Song Ruan listened with the excitement of a fly rubbing its hands together, while Han Zhenzhen—a sheltered girl raised by overprotective parents—had never heard such scandalous talk. Her face burned crimson, but she kept sneaking glances, clearly hungry for more.  

Even Hu Yan, who had been fuming earlier, leaned in slightly.  

As they fanned the flames from the sidelines, Ye Xiang inside the courtyard shrieked and lunged at Zhao Weimin, pounding his chest. “How dare you let her touch you! How dare you! You’re my man!”  

Zhao Weimin tried several times to speak, but her screams drowned him out. In the end, he resigned himself to hunching over, letting her pummel him.  

Though he was the one being beaten, he wasn’t all that angry—in fact, he felt a flicker of pride. If Ye Xiang was reacting this fiercely, didn’t it mean she loved him? Otherwise, why wasn’t she out there beating up anyone else?  

Thinking this, he gazed at her tenderly. “Xiao Xiang, you know how I feel about you.”  

The onlookers’ eyes bulged like copper bells. Wait, what? How did we get here?

“…Is he getting beaten stupid?”  

Granny Sun, who had spent half the day haggling with the work-point recorder to secure herself six work points, finally returned triumphantly—only to find a crowd gathered outside her house. Then she saw her son being pummeled like a sandbag. With a screech, she charged into the fray.  

She had never liked this third son of hers much, but who did this daughter-in-law think she was?  

Still seething from her earlier humiliation at Song Ruan’s hands, Granny Sun rolled up her sleeves and slapped Ye Xiang to the ground, cursing viciously. “You shameless little whore, have you lost your mind? I brought you into this family so you could beat my son?”  

Ye Xiang, who had been a roaring tiger moments ago, instantly shrank into a mewling kitten, clutching her face and sobbing on the ground.  

Seeing his wife knocked aside, Zhao Weimin scrambled to shield her. “Ma, don’t hit her! She’s just hot-tempered, she doesn’t mean any harm!”  

Granny Sun nearly toppled over from rage. She raised her hand to slap him too, but Ye Xiang lunged up and shoved her. “Don’t you touch my man!”  

The drama unfolded in waves, leaving the crowd at the gate stunned. Gasps rippled through them like wind through wheat.  

Granny Sun’s authority had been challenged. Enraged, she bellowed, “You plague-ridden slut! No respect for your elders, daring to hit your mother-in-law? I’ll skin you alive today!”  

Ye Xiang wailed and bolted outside, Granny Sun cursing and chasing after her. The crowd swiftly parted like the Red Sea. As Granny Sun passed Song Ruan, the afternoon’s humiliation flashed in her mind. Seizing the chaos, she tried to kick her.  

Song Ruan nimbly dodged. Granny Sun’s foot met empty air, and her momentum carried her forward. With a yelp, she did a full midair split before crashing hard onto the ground, howling loud enough to shake the heavens.  

Realizing the danger, Song Ruan promptly flopped onto the ground too, clutching her thigh and wailing. She even discreetly pinched her own thigh to bring tears to her eyes, selling the act with impressive realism.  

In the blink of an eye, before anyone could react, two women lay on the ground, each screaming louder than the other.

Just as the onlookers were sighing and moving forward to mediate—”Weimin’s wife, she’s still your mother-in-law, can’t you just bear with—Wait, Little Song? Why are you down there?”  

Granny Sun slowly pried her legs back from the splits. Hiss— She couldn’t move. The slightest twinge sent sharp pain shooting through her. Immediately, she started screeching, “You made me fall like this! You owe me compensation!”  

Remembering the fully loaded oxcart she’d seen that afternoon, she went for the jugular: “Five yuan!”  

The crowd gasped in unison. Five yuan?! Even getting gored by an ox wouldn’t cost that much!  

Song Ruan sneered inwardly but put on a pitiful face. “I was just standing here minding my own business, and you kicked me without even looking! Now I’m hurt like this, and you want me to pay? You can’t just bully people like this!”  

Her face was deathly pale, sweat pouring down like rain. “My elbow! My knee! And I twisted my back when I fell! Zhenzhen, go get the brigade leader! Let’s see if us educated youth can’t even get justice anymore!”  

Han Zhenzhen, thoroughly terrified, nodded frantically and ran off to fetch help.  

Granny Sun pounded the ground in fury. “That’s bullsh—!” I never even touched you!  

But before she could finish, Song Ruan drowned her out with another dramatic wail: “Wuuuuh my baaaack!!”  

Hu Yan stepped forward indignantly. “Granny Sun, you’ve gone too far!”  

The wiry auntie, who had seen Granny Sun’s kick and had never liked her anyway, chimed in, “Sun, you’re in the wrong here. Beat your daughter-in-law all you want, but Little Song didn’t do anything to you. You kicked her and now you’re trying to extort money? That’s just shameless.”  

Song Ruan looked up tearfully, as if seeing a savior. “The masses have sharp eyes! I knew there were still good people in this brigade!”  

The wiry auntie puffed up with pride, thumping her chest. “Don’t worry, Little Song! When the brigade leader gets here, I’ll testify for you!”  

Others quickly joined in, voices rising in agreement.  

The tide had turned completely. Granny Sun was so furious she could’ve died on the spot. In all her years of troublemaking across Dongfeng Brigade, this was the first time she’d been framed!  

“This is outrageous! You’re all ganging up on an old woman!” she howled, wailing to the heavens.

Song Ruan wailed even louder than her: “Wuuuuh my baaaack! I’m just a young girl far from home, Brigade Leader, you have to see this…”  

She cried so convincingly that even Granny Sun began to doubt herself—Did I actually kick her? 

But she didn’t remember using much force…  

Pah! This little bitch was definitely faking it!  

When Han Zhenzhen returned with the brigade leader and saw Song Ruan pitifully sprawled on the ground, clutching her waist, her own homesickness flared up. Heart aching, she threw herself down beside her and burst into tears. “Wuuuuh, Song Ruan, are you okay?!”  

The two teenage girls clung to each other, weeping dramatically, painting a picture of utter misery.  

The onlookers sighed in sympathy:  

“Ah, they really do have it rough…”  

“Granny Sun, aren’t you embarrassing our whole brigade?”  

The brigade leader listened to the wiry auntie’s animated retelling of events, then took in Granny Sun—nostrils flaring with rage, looking fiercer than a demon—and Song Ruan, still on the ground, sobbing pitifully with Han Zhenzhen. His judgment was instantly swayed.  

He tore into Granny Sun with a scolding, then turned to Song Ruan. “Little Song, how are you feeling?”  

Song Ruan made a weak attempt to sit up, with Han Zhenzhen and Hu Yan supporting her on either side.  

Wiping her face with trembling hands, she said bravely, “I-I’ll be fine, Brigade Leader. I’m not here to extort anyone.”  

What did she mean by that?! Who was she mocking?! Granny Sun, a product of the 1970s, was experiencing the full force of a modern-day “green tea” act for the first time. She trembled with rage.  

The brigade leader, however, was thoroughly pleased—what a well-behaved, unproblematic child! “Then take tomorrow off to rest. Sun Xiaohua, you’ll compensate her with three eggs. Let’s consider this matter settled.”  

Granny Sun hopped in protest, but before she could argue, Song Ruan turned teary-eyed to the wiry auntie. “Auntie, thank you for speaking up for me. Your moral support meant everything to me. I… I don’t know how to repay you. Here, I’ll give you one of the eggs.”  

What?! A free egg? And from Granny Sun’s notoriously stingy household?!  

The wiry auntie immediately sprang into action. “Sun Xiaohua, hand over those eggs now!”