After the matter was resolved, Qian Chunhua hurried home with the children.

The ordeal had dragged on for far too long—the three children hadn’t even had lunch yet, and after eating, they still had to hurry to school.

Before leaving, Qian Chunhua instructed Xingshan to run back and tell their mother not to worry.

“Second Aunt.”

Zhao Qingyun’s voice came from behind.

Qian Chunhua turned her head in confusion.

Seeing it was Zhao Qingyun, her face twisted in disgust.

She didn’t respond, just turned back around and left with the children without a word.

Zhao Qingyun didn’t miss the loathing in her eyes.

Panic surged in his heart.

Once, she had loved him so much—now, she despised him?

Zhao Qingyun felt a wave of heartache, but in a moment, his expression changed from sorrowful longing to bitter resentment.

His body, already weakened by fever, looked even more frail.

Back home, Qian Chunhua first checked the children over to make sure none of them were hurt. Only after confirming they were all fine did she feel at ease.

She told Qingsong to take his siblings to wait on the heated brick bed while she went to the kitchen to retrieve the prepared food from her space.

Qingsong followed her to the kitchen once the younger children were settled.

Thankfully, Qian Chunhua moved fast and had already taken out the food before Qingsong entered.

Qingsong helped his mother carry the food to the bed. The four of them sat cross-legged around the warm kang, cozy and ready to eat.

Unlike usual, the three children—normally quick to wolf down their meals—ate slowly and without much appetite.

Especially Qingsong, who put down his bowl and looked seriously at Qian Chunhua. “Mom, I want to learn martial arts.”

Qian Chunhua glanced at him, didn’t answer, and continued eating.

She was afraid he was just caught up in a moment of hot-blooded impulse.

Time passed. Qingsong didn’t move, still gazing at her with firm resolve.

Only then did Qian Chunhua set her bowl down, looking into his eyes. “Have you thought it through?”

Qingsong nodded firmly. “I have.”

“Can you endure hardship?”

“How hard?”

“Harder than chopping firewood on the mountain. Harder than being beaten by Li Cuihong. Can you endure that?”

Qingsong thought for a moment, then answered with determination, “I can.”

Qian Chunhua nodded and picked her bowl back up. “Eat first. If you want to train, you’ll need a healthy body.”

Seeing his mother agree, Qingsong finally relaxed and started eating heartily again.

At the side, Qingfeng’s eyes were still red as he chirped, “Mom, I want to learn too!”

Qian Chunhua chuckled. “Alright, our whole family will train.”

“Okay!” Xiaoling said seriously, holding her bowl tightly. “I want to train too.”

The three children, after this incident, had a new awareness of their own weakness.

Though they’d been bullied before, it was always by other children. This was the first time they’d been powerless against an adult.

The helplessness stung.

Qingsong realized that only by growing stronger could he protect himself—and protect his family.

He never forgot what the clan elder told him in the ancestral hall: he was the head of the household now. His mother and siblings would rely on him.

Qingsong silently made a vow.

He would not only study hard but also train in martial arts.

He might not become invincible, but he had to become strong enough to protect his mother and siblings.

Though Qian Chunhua had agreed to let the children train, in truth, she had no idea where to start—where to go, whom to find.

“Before learning martial arts, you must first build up your health.”

No matter what, a strong body was the foundation of everything. Whether or not they found a teacher, she had to focus first on getting the kids into good shape.

That farcical event at noon had surprisingly yielded excellent results.

Everyone in Huanghualing—young and old, male and female—now had a new opinion of Qian Chunhua.

Some thought she had changed, become a shrew. Better stay away from her—can’t afford to mess with her. This group included Zhao Dafang, Li Lianyan, and Ma Yubo.

Others believed she had become formidable. Ever since her husband died, she had depended on herself, risen from hardship, and boldly exposed Zhao Yongqiang and Qin Laizi’s scheme.

This group—people like Granny Xu’s family and Carpenter Wang—admired and respected her even more.

Only Village Chief Wang felt annoyed. The Zhao family had too much drama. Especially Qian Chunhua—always dragging him into things to act as a mediator. It was exhausting.

But most significantly, Qian Chunhua became a symbol for all the women in Huanghualing.

In the past, other women had also been harassed by Qin Laizi, but they’d always chosen to endure it silently. Some hadn’t even told their families for fear of damaging their reputation.

Qian Chunhua’s bold, clever handling of the matter won everyone’s admiration. Her reputation wasn’t ruined—on the contrary, it soared.

And Qin Laizi got what he deserved, which was deeply satisfying to many.

The final outcome? The next time Qian Chunhua walked out her door, even the gossiping villagers under the old locust tree greeted her warmly.

That afternoon, under Clan Elder Zhao’s supervision, both the Zhao family and Qin Laizi delivered a hundred catties of rice to Qian Chunhua’s home. She accepted all of it without hesitation.

Li Cuihong was furious but didn’t dare say a word.

Zhao Yongqiang was locked up in the Zhao ancestral hall that afternoon. There was no one to finish harvesting the cabbages.

So Li Cuihong had to take Zhao Qingshui and Zhao Xiaojun to Chunhua’s fields to work honestly.

Passing villagers didn’t let her off easy.

“Busy, are you, Cuihong?”

“Oh Li Cuihong, was it worth it? Hurting others only ends up hurting yourself.”

…

The mocking comments made Li Cuihong grind her teeth in hatred. Once, she was someone others in the village envied. Now she was the butt of everyone’s jokes—and all because of Qian Chunhua.

She didn’t notice that Zhao Qingshui, upset by the jeers, picked up a lump of dirt and threw it at the villagers.

That caused them to scatter like birds—but gave them even more to talk about. It was a cold winter day, and they had nothing better to do.

Soon, the ridicule turned from Li Cuihong to Zhao Qingshui.

“Such a rude child—throwing dirt at people.”

“Zhao Daqing even defends this kid? You can tell he’s no good—just like Zhao Yongqiang. Rotten to the core.”

“Always sneaking around stealing since he was little. Mark my words—he’ll end up in jail one day.”

…

Among the Zhao trio, only Zhao Xiaojun remained silent, quietly harvesting cabbages.

But when no one was looking, her eyes were full of resentment.

Back at the Zhao family’s main house, Zhao Daqing sat alone in silence.

Not even his beloved tobacco pipe could lift his spirits.

It hadn’t even been ten days since the second son left, and the eldest son’s family had already fallen apart.

Zhao Daqing had always known the eldest son was slippery, but he never thought he was truly evil—rotten to the bone.

He couldn’t understand.

They were raised by the same parents—how had his eldest turned out like this?

Living so many years, how could he not see through his son’s plan now?

Using Qin Laizi to ruin Qian Chunhua’s name, tricking the Zhao family into taking back the children—and the two hundred taels of silver.

Even if they didn’t care about the kids, they’d want that silver.

To the eldest son, money was more important than anything—important enough to destroy the second son’s wife.

Fortunately, the second daughter-in-law was strong and had escaped this trap.

Zhao Daqing’s heart turned cold—not just from his son’s cruelty, but from worry about the future of himself and his wife.

“You were right, old woman,” Zhao Daqing said to Mother Zhao.