Chapter 8

The village chief’s words left Father Cheng momentarily speechless. The real reason he didn’t want to divide the household was because he didn’t want to give up Cheng Jingchuan’s wages. Now that the village chief had raised the issue, he needed a good excuse to refuse. Since it wasn’t convenient for him to say it himself, he would let someone else speak for him. He glanced at Mother Cheng, who immediately understood his meaning.

“My son sends money home every month to support us in our old age,” Mother Cheng said sharply. “He never said that money was to support his wife. Everyone here knows perfectly well why Shu Yue managed to marry our second son. Because of this scheming woman, Jingchuan hasn’t even come home for the New Year these past two years. Clearly, he doesn’t want to see such a calculating wife. So if he doesn’t send her money, that’s her own fault. As parents, why should we use our retirement money to feed her?”

Mother Cheng hurled abuse at Shu Yue while Father Cheng stood aside acting the reasonable one. This was how the couple always worked together—she said all the nasty things, and he would step in later to smooth things over if needed. Shu Yue had long seen through this act. She had no expectation of ever getting money from the Cheng family, nor did she expect the man who despised her to willingly share a single cent.

All she wanted now was to separate from the family and raise her son in peace.

“Village Chief,” Shu Yue said calmly, “I’ll just take the things I brought with me when I married in. As for rations, I’ll take only what I’ve earned, according to your calculation.”

She had no desire to take advantage of the Chengs. To keep them from gossiping, she had worked the fields throughout her pregnancy, despite her heavy belly. She knew the Cheng family would never let her get anything for free. If she wanted to eat, she had to earn enough work points to get her own grain—otherwise Mother Cheng’s poisonous tongue would scold her eight times a day, saying every vile thing imaginable.

“Fine. Then we’ll divide,” Father Cheng said at last. In his heart, he was convinced Shu Yue would never survive on her own. Living with the old lady would only make life harder. Better to take this chance to teach her a lesson—then she would learn to appreciate the Cheng family.

Hearing him agree, the village chief immediately sent someone to fetch the work-point records and called over the village Party secretary as a witness. Dividing a household was no small matter—especially in a case like this, when the husband was away and it was only the daughter-in-law demanding separation. More witnesses meant fewer disputes later. Once divided, each family would cook from a separate pot, and if the division wasn’t handled fairly, there would be endless trouble afterward.

Mother Cheng hadn’t expected Father Cheng to actually allow Shu Yue—the “little wretch”—to leave the household. She looked down on this daughter-in-law, but after all, Shu Yue was the daughter of a former capitalist family. She must have brought some fine things with her. Mother Cheng had searched her room but found nothing, though that didn’t mean nothing existed. Living under the same roof, there was always a chance those valuables would appear sooner or later. If the family split now, there’d be nothing left to hope for.

The family background of a capitalist’s daughter might be bad, but things were still things—what fault did they have? If she could have gotten hold of a few good items, wouldn’t the Cheng household have lived better?

She had many thoughts, but Mother Cheng knew all decisions in the family were ultimately made by Father Cheng. What’s more, Shu Yue had mentioned the baby-switching scheme. Mother Cheng shot Huang Fang a fierce glare—useless girl! If you were going to switch babies, you should have been quick and clean about it. Instead, you failed and got caught. Now this whole mess was your fault! Three daughters already, and you still stirred the house into chaos. Once this division was over, Mother Cheng intended to give Huang Fang a sound beating.

Huang Fang felt her mother-in-law’s murderous gaze and shrank back. Ever since Shu Yue exposed the plot to switch babies, she’d known she would face punishment. She’d hoped to slip by unnoticed, since everyone’s attention had shifted to the household division. But now, seeing her mother-in-law’s eyes on her, her heart sank. If she’d known it would end like this, she would never have listened to her own mother and tried to get a son by deceit. Now it was far too late for regret.

“This is the division agreement. Please review it,” the village chief said. “According to the work points, the family should give Jingchuan’s wife sixty jin of cornmeal, ten jin of wheat flour, thirty jin of sweet potatoes, and thirty jin of potatoes. After the division, Jingchuan will be responsible for supporting his parents in their old age. His wife will only need to look after Old Madam Cheng’s daily needs. No other members of the Cheng family are to harass her. In the future, her work points will be calculated separately. If there are no objections, sign here. When you write to Jingchuan, be sure to inform him that his wife is now living apart. As a man, he can’t ignore his wife and child completely.”

The village chief and Party secretary carefully settled the work-point accounts. They discovered that Shu Yue—the so-called capitalist’s daughter—worked no less diligently than any village woman. Perhaps because no one would befriend her, she spoke little and focused only on labor. Her daily points were solid—seven or eight a day, nearly full points. That was as much as any of the hardest-working village women earned. Compared side by side, Shu Yue was clearly outstanding.

When the village chief announced how much grain Shu Yue would receive, Mother Cheng nearly ground her teeth to dust. If the officials hadn’t been present, she would have scratched the wretched girl’s face bloody. In the past, grain allocations were divided by household, and Shu Yue’s share naturally went straight to Mother Cheng’s hands. She’d been happy to keep it—enough to send extra to her third son in the city, where food was rationed and always scarce.

But now… grain that was already in her grasp would have to be handed back. It was like cutting flesh from her own body. She glared at Shu Yue with even deeper malice. Ungrateful wretch—bad family background, married into the Chengs, and still so restless. A person like this deserved to die.

And as for telling their second son about the household division? Hah! Dream on. They weren’t fools. If Jingchuan found out, he might start sending money directly to Shu Yue instead of them. And then how would they get to spend their son’s wages? Shu Yue wasn’t worthy of a single coin.