Chapter 10: Freeloading 

Though young, Song Anyue already cared about her appearance. Covering her little face, she pouted and complained: 

“Elder Sister, Mother said you shouldn’t pinch a girl’s face—it’ll make it big and ugly!” 

Hearing this, Song Anning only laughed brighter and couldn’t resist giving her cheeks another pinch. This five-year-old was quite the little diva. 

“Sister Anning, Grandma and Mother asked you to come to the old house for dinner.” 

At the gate, two small heads peeked in—Song Anhe from Second Uncle’s family and Song Zexun, who had just been brawling with them earlier. 

They had always been somewhat afraid of this elder sister, but now, they were downright terrified. 

Seeing Song Anning rise from her little wooden stool, the two kids turned tail and bolted. 

The country path carried the scent of earth as villagers led oxen and hoed fields under a sky so blue it was intoxicating, the distant mountains painted in lush green. 

Song Anhe and Song Zexun sprinted ahead, glancing back now and then. 

Song Anning walked leisurely, holding the hands of her two younger siblings. In her past life, she had returned to the village to start a business—raising pigs and chickens, even setting up two vegetable greenhouses—until she was spinning like a top. 

It had been so long since she’d truly taken in the scenery. The sky over Banyue Village reminded her of childhood—untainted, pure, and filled with the simple joy of longing to grow up. 

Now, in this unfamiliar time, she was over a decade younger. Heh, not a bad deal… 

The old house was a short walk away, about the time it took to drink a cup of tea. From afar, the aroma of chicken wafted toward them, and the two little ones broke into an eager trot. 

“Elder Sister, it’s chicken! Grandma must’ve stewed it! A’Yue can’t even remember what meat tastes like anymore.” 

“Elder Sister, you’ve eaten lots of chicken, right? Is it super delicious?” 

Tilting their heads, their eyes brimming with longing, they made Song Anning feel oddly guilty. Blame the original owner—she’d stolen so many treats without sharing a single bite with them. 

She could only smile. “Then hurry to Grandma and taste it for yourselves.” 

“Mhm! Elder Sister, come quick—we’re having meat!” 

At the old house, Song Anning saw Mrs. Zhang and Mrs. Liu chatting by the stove, while Second Uncle’s four children crouched nearby, eyes gleaming. 

“A’Ning’s here? Your grandfather and the others will be back soon. If you’re hungry, go ahead and eat—we’ll set aside their portions.” 

“Let’s wait for Grandfather. But these little gluttons are drooling—why not give them a few pieces to tide them over?” 

Only then did Mrs. Zhang and Mrs. Liu notice the children clustered by the stove, licking their lips. 

“Hah, these little food monsters!” 

They lined the kids up, giving each a piece. The children barely minded the heat, nibbling carefully. 

“Thank your elder sister. If she hadn’t caught that pheasant, there’d be no meat today.” 

The chicken was tender and savory, leaving the kids’ mouths shiny with grease. At Grandma’s words, they chirped sweetly at Song Anning: 

“Thank you, Sister Anning! Hehe…” 

Sure, this elder sister was scary, but she got them meat. Hmph, way better than other people’s sisters! 

“Watching them eat is even better than eating it myself.” 

“Aye, poverty’s to blame.” 

The mother and daughter-in-law sighed. What mother wouldn’t want to give her children the best? But in these times, having a full belly was blessing enough. 

“Oh, everyone’s here?”

A voice shattered the warmth, and Song Anning looked up to see Zhao Lanhua approaching.

In her memories, the original host had been engaged—to Zhao Lanhua’s son, He Guangzong. Her elder brother, Song Zeyu, was also betrothed to the family’s youngest daughter, He Lian’er.

In Banyue Village, such arrangements were common. When two families each had sons and daughters, they could strengthen ties through marriage, saving on betrothal gifts and the like.

Later, when misfortune struck the Song family, the He family had desperately insisted on breaking off the engagement. How could they have the nerve to show up now?

“Well, if it isn’t Lanhua! What brings you here today?” Mrs. Zhang’s voice dripped with sarcasm. She had opposed the engagement from the start. Though He Guangzong had earned the title of Literary Candidate at a young age, Zhao Lanhua and her husband were of questionable character—what decent child could such parents raise?

But the elder Song couple had been willing, drawn to He Guangzong’s scholarly status and potential for future success. The original host had also been infatuated with him.

“My nose is just too sharp—I caught the scent and came running. A’Ning, why don’t you serve me some of that meat? Guangzong will be returning soon. If you behave, we might still discuss the marriage.”

Most of the He family’s money went toward He Guangzong’s education, leaving them in strained circumstances. Hearing that Song Anning had caught three pheasants, they’d come to freeload.

Mrs. Zhang and Mrs. Liu’s faces darkened with barely contained anger. They believed Song Anning had changed for the better, but they remembered all too well how besotted their granddaughter had been with He Guangzong.

They knew full well that many of the things Song Anning had stolen in the past had ended up in the He family’s bellies.

Whenever Zhao Lanhua mentioned He Guangzong, Song Anning would become spellbound, throwing all caution to the wind in her eagerness.

“What’s that awful stench? Oh! Auntie, do you just open your mouth and let filth pour out? Are you a dog, sniffing around for scraps wherever there’s good food?”

“You—” The anger on the faces of Mrs. Zhang and her daughter-in-law turned to shock. Had the girl gone mad, speaking to Zhao Lanhua like this?

Song Anning turned and gave Mrs. Zhang a reassuring look before continuing, “Auntie Zhao, our families called off that engagement centuries ago. Back then, no matter how much my grandparents pleaded, your family wailed as if your mother had died just to break it off. And now you’d sell He Guangzong for a few pieces of chicken?

Ah, I see—He Guangzong’s worth is about the same as a few chunks of meat. But I don’t want him anymore. To me, he’s not even worth a chicken feather.

If you want to sell your son for meat, go somewhere else. Get out of my grandmother’s house—you disgust us.”

“!”

“You little bitch! How dare you speak to me like that! When Guangzong returns, I’ll tell him—”

“Tell him whatever you like. And while you’re at it, tell your son to stay away from me and the Song family from now on. The sight of his pretentious, holier-than-thou face ruins our appetite. Now scram!”

In the village, people generally treated Zhao Lanhua with respect because of He Guangzong’s status as a Literary Candidate. Never had she been insulted like this. Abandoning all restraint, she lashed out:

“Don’t you dare regret this! With your fat, ugly face, you’re not even fit to tend the fire in my house! My Guangzong is destined to become a high official—he could marry an official’s daughter!”

“Then hurry up and get your son married to some official’s daughter. You two can go beg for food together at other people’s houses.”

“The He family is nothing but maggots in a cesspit to me, Song Anning. Why can’t you just stay in your shit hole and eat filth? Must you crawl out to disgust people? 

Don’t let me see you again, or I’ll beat you every time I do.” 

As she spoke, Song Anning grabbed a broom from the yard and swung it at her. 

Seeing she was about to suffer, Mrs. Zhao scrambled away, rolling and crawling as she fled, cursing all the while: “You little bitch, just you wait! When my son comes back—” 

“I’ll beat your mangy son too when he returns, hahaha…” 

Song Anning cursed with such unrestrained satisfaction that she didn’t notice Grandpa and Second Uncle standing on the other side of the gate, their mouths hanging open wide enough to fit a bird’s egg.