In the east wing room, Li Cuihong was lying on the bed, sulking.

The whole afternoon, the more she thought about it, the angrier she got.

In all these years, this was the first time she had suffered such a big loss.

That bastard Zhao Yongqiang went to the county and still hadn’t returned.

No, she couldn’t just swallow this grievance.

Whenever Li Cuihong got angry, she would always take it out on Qingsong.

This time, since Qian Chunhua had provoked her, Li Cuihong was even more determined to beat up Qingsong.

She got up from the bed, put on her shoes, grabbed a wooden stick at random, and stormed out into the courtyard.

The yard was quiet.

No sign of Zhao Qingsong.

Li Cuihong stopped in her tracks and looked around but still didn’t find a trace of him.

“Zhao Qingsong, you little bastard, jinx, where did you die off to now?”

“Ungrateful brat! Damn mongrel!”

…

Li Cuihong cursed Qingsong with the vilest words.

Before, Qian Chunhua had just thought no mother should curse her child like that—but now that she knew the truth, it all made sense.

At that moment, Zhao Qingsong, who was eating noodles, heard Li Cuihong’s yelling and got so scared that he dropped his chopsticks.

Qian Chunhua picked them up and handed them to him, “Don’t be afraid. Eat. You’ll stay here tonight.”

Just now, she had made up her mind—the matter of the child swap Li Cuihong orchestrated would be settled tonight.

She couldn’t let Qingsong suffer any longer.

After shouting in the courtyard for a while and getting no response, and with the weather too cold, Li Cuihong had no choice but to return to her room.

Dinner was still cooked by Zhao Mother, the same as always—corn porridge, steamed cornbread, and a plate of pickles.

That afternoon, Zhao Yongqiang had returned from the county with Zhao Qingyun.

Qian Chunhua gave them a cold glance—the door to the west wing, Zhao Qingyun’s room, had already been locked by her.

Zhao Qingyun couldn’t get in.

At that moment, Zhao Qingsong was lying alone in bed, full and asleep after his meal.

“Mom, why is my door locked?” Zhao Qingyun asked Qian Chunhua.

Now his bookcase had to be left in the main hall.

Qian Chunhua looked at the bookcase, then at Zhao Qingyun’s chubby face and sturdy body, and recalled Qingsong’s bruised and skinny frame.

With a cold tone, she said, “Eat first. We’ll talk after dinner.”

Qian Chunhua’s icy tone made Zhao Qingyun uneasy—had she found out something?

He shrank his neck and didn’t dare say another word.

Zhao Daqing looked at Qian Chunhua with confusion—this second daughter-in-law had grown more temperamental.

Last night she’d snapped at him, and today she’d hit her sister-in-law.

Now she was speaking so coldly to Qingyun too.

Zhao Daqing knew Zhao Qingyun was her precious baby—normally she couldn’t bear to scold or hit him.

Something was very off.

Zhao Daqing shook his head.

The second son’s death had really pushed his wife into a drastic change.

Zhao Yongqiang had barely stepped into the house when Li Cuihong pulled him into their room and told him everything that had happened at noon.

“Zhao Yongqiang, you must stand up for me. If not, I’ll go find my brother, my father.” Li Cuihong was clearly not going to let this go.

Zhao Yongqiang frowned.

Compared to the important matter of adoption and dividing the family estate planned for tonight, venting anger could wait.

“Cuihong, don’t get worked up. Let’s handle the serious matter first tonight. Once Qingyun is adopted back, you can do whatever you want to settle the score.”

Zhao Yongqiang tried to soothe her.

Compared to Li Cuihong, Zhao Yongqiang was much more cunning.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have spent all these years hiding behind his father and brother, enjoying the fruits without doing the labor.

Li Cuihong, though fierce, wasn’t stupid—she could distinguish between what was urgent and what could wait.

She nodded, “Fine, I’ll hold it in for now. But don’t try to play me. If you do, when my family comes to beat up the Zhao family, don’t expect us to save your face.”

Zhao Yongqiang pulled her into his arms and kissed her hard on the cheek. “Don’t worry. You know me.”

Li Cuihong laughed.

It was because she knew him so well that she had said those things.

Dinner was as silent as usual, in keeping with Zhao Daqing’s household rule—no talking while eating or sleeping.

At the small table sat only two children: Zhao Qingfeng and Zhao Xiaoling.

Zhao Qingsong was nowhere to be seen.

Zhao Yongqiang and Li Cuihong acted as if that son didn’t exist, gobbling down porridge and cornbread.

Zhao Daqing and Zhao Mother knew Qingsong was at the second household’s place and weren’t worried.

Only Qingfeng and Xiaoling were confused. They hadn’t seen Qingsong after their afternoon nap.

Zhao Qingyun’s room was usually off-limits—the children weren’t allowed in, for fear they might mess with the books.

So, the two kids had no idea that Qingsong was next door, sound asleep.

“Mom, why hasn’t Brother Qingsong come?” Zhao Qingfeng asked softly.

Before Qian Chunhua could answer, Li Cuihong erupted, “That little bastard Zhao Qingsong, who knows where he ran off to. When he gets back, I’ll beat him half to death!”

She roared, spittle flying everywhere.

Zhao Qingfeng was so scared he didn’t dare make another sound.

Zhao Daqing frowned—this eldest daughter-in-law was far too unruly.

Qian Chunhua slammed her chopsticks on the table. “Li Cuihong, you shrew, if you want to beat a child, go home and do it. Don’t come screaming and spitting like a madwoman in the main hall.”

Li Cuihong hadn’t even settled the score with Qian Chunhua over lunch.

Now she couldn’t believe Qian Chunhua dared provoke her.

With a screech, Li Cuihong stood up, about to strike.

Qian Chunhua sneered and reached into her pocket. She had long prepared for this battle.

She’d brought a retractable electric baton—and if Li Cuihong dared get close, she would let her taste a shock she’d never forget.

Unfortunately, she didn’t get the chance.

Zhao Yongqiang quickly grabbed Li Cuihong, “Cuihong, Cuihong, calm down… calm down.”

As he spoke, he shot her a meaningful look, reminding her of their earlier agreement.

Furious but restrained, Li Cuihong couldn’t strike—but she could spit.

With a loud “ptooey!”, she gathered all her strength and spat in Qian Chunhua’s direction.

Qian Chunhua recoiled in disgust and quickly dodged.

She had eaten enough anyway.

She put down her bowl and chopsticks.

“Father, Mother, take your time eating,” she said, pretending to leave.

“Wait a moment,” Zhao Yongqiang called out, unable to hold it in any longer.

Qian Chunhua knew then—he was ready to make his move.

Zhao Yongqiang looked to Zhao Daqing, signaling his father to speak. It was time to act on the plan they had discussed that morning.

Zhao Daqing said, “Chunhua, stay for a bit. We have something to talk about after dinner.”

Qian Chunhua replied, “Alright.”

She was already prepared and in no hurry. She walked over to the small table and began feeding Zhao Qingfeng.

Qingfeng and Xiaoling were truly adorable—three and six years old, respectively. Though they lacked adult care, they ate obediently.

Even the rough cornbread—which Qian Chunhua disliked—they devoured with gusto.

“Mom, I can eat by myself,” Zhao Qingfeng mumbled with his mouth full.

“Alright.” Qian Chunhua rubbed the little topknot on Zhao Xiaoling’s head.

Curious, she tugged at it—it was tied up quite well.

For such a young girl, she already knew how to do her own hair.

Looking at the twins, Qian Chunhua was filled with satisfaction.

No matter how she looked at them—they were just perfect.