“Qian Chunhua, don’t be so ungrateful!” Zhao Yongqiang suddenly stood up, pointing angrily at her. “You’re getting bolder by the day. If you keep this up, we’ll split the family!”

“That’s right! If you don’t agree, we’ll split the household!” Li Cuihong quickly chimed in.

Split the family?

Perfect.

Qian Chunhua actually couldn’t wait for that to happen.

But she couldn’t show that on the surface—she had to make this couple believe she was afraid of separation.

“Why should we split? Zhao Yongcai just passed away, and now you’re trying to kick a widow and her children out?” Qian Chunhua sneered coldly.

“When Zhao Yongcai handed over seventy taels of silver to the family account every year, why didn’t you mention splitting then? Now you want to? Dream on.” She scanned the room with a look of disdain.

“Qian Chunhua, stop spouting nonsense,” Zhao Daqing interrupted. “All these years, the money your man contributed was a sign of filial piety to us elders!”

He picked up his tobacco pipe again, ready to refill it.

Qian Chunhua was furious. “Filial piety to you? You really think highly of yourselves. Seventy taels of silver a year—is that what you call ‘filial’?”

She paused and pointed at Zhao Yongqiang. “And him? What has he given you as ‘filial piety’? What about the third son? What has he contributed? Old man, shouldn’t you treat all your sons fairly?”

Her words left everyone in the room speechless.

“Insolence!” Zhao Daqing slammed the table, his pipe making a sharp crack as it hit the surface.

The pipe bent from the force.

Zhao Daqing, heart aching over his damaged pipe, quickly tried to straighten it.

Qian Chunhua had no desire to argue further.

She stood up, grabbed Zhao Qingyun by the arm, and said, “Let’s go. Time for bed.”

She cast one last look of disgust at the smoke-filled room and turned to leave.

Zhao Qingyun hesitated slightly, but under her firm grip, he couldn’t break free.

As they were about to step out of the main hall, Qian Chunhua suddenly turned back, her eyes steady and fierce as she faced the others.

“As for the adoption—forget it. This child is mine. I’ll raise him myself.”

“And as for splitting the family? Don’t get your hopes up. My husband just died, and now you want to throw a widow and her children out? Not going to happen!”

With that, she pulled Zhao Qingyun along without looking back and exited the main hall.

Zhao Daqing was dumbfounded by her words, momentarily stunned.

Only after the door slammed shut with a loud bang did he snap out of it.

He pounded the table, his fury bubbling over.

His voice trembled with rage as he glared at his departing second daughter-in-law. “Insolent! Absolutely outrageous!”

But no matter how furious he was, he didn’t dare slam the table again with his pipe.

..

Qian Chunhua held tightly to Zhao Qingyun’s hand and dragged him back to his room.

She sat down heavily in front of his desk, her sharp gaze locked on the eight-year-old boy. Her chest burned with fury.

She couldn’t believe that the child the original host had loved so dearly could be so heartless.

Still, she wasn’t ready to judge just yet—she needed to hear his side.

Struggling to control her emotions, she asked in a hard tone, “Well? What exactly are you thinking?”

Her anger made her voice sound harsh and intimidating.

She looked at this child and felt a deep sense of injustice on behalf of the original owner.

He lived in comfort—sleeping on a high-quality catalpa wood bed, using a matching desk—all things his father had specially purchased from out of town.

To give him a quiet place to study, the rest of the family crowded into one room while he had his own.

And yet, just two days after his father’s death, he dared to suggest being adopted by another family?

Qian Chunhua would rather believe he’d been tricked or threatened than accept that he was truly so cold-hearted.

She hoped it was all a misunderstanding—one that could still be cleared up.

“I… I…” Zhao Qingyun stammered, his eyes darting everywhere.

Qian Chunhua narrowed her eyes.

He was clearly scrambling to make up a lie.

This wasn’t the clever and honest child from the original memories at all.

So much for being insightful, she thought bitterly.

At that moment, she even began to doubt his academic performance.

Did the teacher really believe he could pass the county-level exams, or was that just a polite encouragement the child had taken too seriously?

“Tell the truth. No lying,” she ordered, glaring at him.

A little brat like this still wanted to play tricks?

Startled, Zhao Qingyun straightened up and blurted, “Aunt said that if I got adopted into their family, they’d keep sending me to school and make sure I had enough to eat and warm clothes.”

“You really believe that?” Qian Chunhua’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “If they were so capable, why didn’t they send their own sons, Qingshui and Qingsong, to school?”

Zhao Qingyun scratched his head, confused. “Aunt said Qingshui and Qingsong aren’t cut out for studying. Only I have what it takes.”

His face showed a hint of pride, like he was the family’s only hope.

Qian Chunhua could only sigh.

Those words might fool a toddler, but this kid is already eight.

How could he still believe such nonsense?

She gently patted his head and said softly, “Qingyun, listen to Mom. I promise—I’ll keep sending you to school.”

Zhao Qingyun frowned. “But Mom, you don’t make money. How can we afford school?”

Qian Chunhua smiled and comforted him. “Silly boy. Your father just passed. Our difficulties are only temporary.”

“In the future, I’ll find a way to earn money—not only will you keep studying, your little brother will get to go to school too.”

Zhao Qingyun looked unhappy at that. “But Mom, little brother isn’t smart. He won’t be good at studying.”

Qian Chunhua gently shook her head. “Whether he’s smart or not, he deserves a chance. We can’t take away his opportunity just because of some assumption.”

She felt disappointed in Zhao Qingyun’s worldview.

At eight years old, his attitude toward his little brother was already so narrow-minded—as if all his studying hadn’t taught him compassion or understanding.

Night had fallen.

Qian Chunhua softly told him, “Get some rest. You have school in the morning.”

She quietly closed his door, ending their conversation.

“As for the adoption, don’t bring it up again.”

…

When she returned to her own room, she saw Zhao Xiaoling and Zhao Qingfeng playing on the bed like two lively little animals.

Zhao Qingfeng’s eyes lit up with joy when he saw her. He reached out his small hands and called excitedly, “Mom…”

Qian Chunhua rushed over and caught him in time, warning gently, “Careful, don’t fall off the bed.”

Zhao Xiaoling jumped down barefoot, grinning foolishly as she ran to her.

Qian Chunhua lovingly patted their heads. “I’ll go get some water for you. After washing up, it’s bedtime.”

“I’ll do it!” Zhao Xiaoling chirped and darted off barefoot with the basin in hand.

“Wait—put some shoes on!” Qian Chunhua called after her, but Xiaoling had already disappeared out the door.

She sighed.

These small habits were hard to change overnight.

But it was winter now, and running around barefoot could easily lead to catching a cold.

She shook her head and resolved to slowly help them build better habits over time.