Chapter 20: The Old Zhaodi Is Already Dead

Zhaodi arrived at the hill where she and Fu Jun had agreed to meet. Sure enough, in the dim night, she saw the tall, familiar figure of her father. Excited, she ran toward him.

As she ran, she looked down at the village at the foot of the mountain, then at the endless rolling hills around her—the very mountains that had trapped her for more than ten years.

But this time, she was smiling. She thought she had finally made it through.

“Dad!”

“Zhaodi, you’re here.”

The reply came not just from her father, but from Pian Tou as well.

Only then did she notice that behind her father stood a short, shifty man—her so-called husband, the one her family had chosen for her.

Zhaodi froze in fear and turned to run, but Fu Jun caught her.

The two men carried her into a cave. No matter how hard she struggled, it was useless.

Pian Tou was older, and after being slapped by Ruan Jiaojiao recently, his body had been unwell. On his own, he couldn’t handle a young, strong girl like Zhaodi.

So Fu Jun hadn’t come to take his daughter away. He had come to help his son-in-law subdue her.

Her own father tied her hands and feet, leaving her unable to move. And in that freezing winter night, Pian Tou violated her.

Zhaodi screamed until her voice went hoarse, but no one came to save her.

Later, Pian Tou sneered, “You’re mine now. Didn’t expect your dad to be so honest—sent me a virgin.”

He added, “Zhaodi, you can’t run. No one will want a woman spoiled by me. You’ll be my wife for life.”

Exhausted from crying, Zhaodi curled up on the ground in pain, rolling back and forth.

Fu Jun and Pian Tou dragged her back to the Fu household. The next day, Zhaodi was married off.

On her wedding day, Shen Junmei and Fu Jun told her, “A wife must sew clothes for her husband. If you don’t, you’ll be beaten.”

It was only then that Zhaodi learned the truth: Pian Tou’s previous wife hadn’t died in childbirth—she’d been beaten to death during her postpartum confinement.

Pian Tou had a violent temper. He liked to hit women, especially his wife. Shen Junmei and Fu Jun knew all this, but they still gave Zhaodi away—for a bride price of just a few hundred yuan.

And they didn’t feel the slightest guilt.

They even thought they were kinder than those parents who killed or abandoned their newborn daughters.

After all, raising Fu Zhaodi to this age was only so she could be exchanged for money—to support Fu Jindan, the precious son.

Ruan Jiaojiao found it all unbearably tragic. Truly, tragically so.

Crying, Zhaodi said, “Second Aunt… my whole life is ruined. I’ll never see a way out. But I’m not willing! Why? Why was I born only to serve my younger brother? Why, when I’ve done nothing wrong, is everything my fault—just because I’m a girl?”

Yes. The fault wasn’t hers. The fault was the world.

The world kissed her with pain—why should she be expected to repay it with a song?

“Zhaodi, you must not die.”

Ruan Jiaojiao stroked Zhaodi’s long, jet-black hair, that symbol of vitality in rural girls. Then, with a single snip of the scissors, she cut it off.

“Ah!” Zhaodi clutched at her hair in heartbreak.

Holding the severed strands, Ruan Jiaojiao said, “Zhaodi, this hair represents your old self. That girl is already dead. From now on, you live for yourself. Forget men. A woman can live her own life freely and beautifully.”

“Pian Tou may have bound you, but if you’re willing, he can become your stepping stone. A clever woman makes use of every chance to climb higher. You’re still young—you have time to leave these mountains. When you do, change your name. No one will know where you came from or what you’ve been through.”

Her words struck Zhaodi like a thunderclap. Enlightenment flashed across her tear-stained face.

When Ruan Jiaojiao saw the light return to her eyes, she knew her task was complete.

Outside, Shen Junmei grew anxious, worried Ruan Jiaojiao might be persuading Zhaodi to run away again. But then she reassured herself: Zhaodi already belonged to Pian Tou now. Married women must follow their husbands—there was no way she’d run.

Shen Junmei believed that just as she had accepted being Fu Jun’s woman for life, Zhaodi—defiled as she was—would think the same.

Just as Shen Junmei was about to barge in, Zhaodi came out, leaning on Ruan Jiaojiao’s arm, the two of them chatting and laughing.

“Second Aunt, thank you. I’ll definitely give birth to a big, healthy son and bring honor to the Fu family!”

“Zhaodi, remember—what I told you is for you alone. Don’t let anyone else overhear, understand?”

Zhaodi blushed. “Y-yes, I understand.”

The two of them played their parts so well, it almost looked real.

Shen Junmei began to feel she’d been overthinking. What waves could a lame woman and a little girl possibly stir up?

Besides, though she and Ruan Jiaojiao didn’t get along, Jiaojiao seemed to be giving Zhaodi her full support.

That wasn’t so bad. As long as Zhaodi’s womb did its job, Shen Junmei could hold her head high in the village.

Thinking of this, Shen Junmei’s gaze toward Ruan Jiaojiao softened.

She even tried to invite Jiaojiao to stay for a meal. Of course, it was only out of courtesy.

“Jiaojiao, why don’t you stay—”

“Thank you, sister-in-law! You’re so kind!” Ruan Jiaojiao accepted cheerfully, then tugged at Mother Fu’s arm. “Mom, let’s enjoy sister-in-law’s cooking tonight!”

The implication was clear: let Shen Junmei do all the cooking while they waited to eat.

Mother Fu, usually lukewarm toward her second daughter-in-law, was delighted by this rare display of closeness and quickly agreed with smiles and nods.

Shen Junmei was left speechless, bitterness stuck in her throat.

“What’s wrong, sister-in-law? Regretting it? Don’t want to feed me now? Then I’ll just have to complain everywhere that after helping my niece, I wasn’t even given a proper meal!”

Treading the path of a green tea schemer, leaving no room for the real ones to play!

“No, no, that’s not what I meant…” Shen Junmei forced a smile.

She had finally gained face in the village thanks to Zhaodi’s marriage. She couldn’t afford to let others laugh at her again.

“Oh, thank you then, sister-in-law. You really are such a good person.”

Ruan Jiaojiao’s sly smile was as black-hearted as ever.

And what could Shen Junmei do? She had no choice but to serve Jiaojiao—take her beatings, swallow her words, and still cook her a good meal.

Why was her life so bitter? Why did she have to provoke this little tyrant Ruan Jiaojiao?

Now, in Shen Junmei’s eyes, Ruan Jiaojiao was scarier than a mountain ghost, clingier than a water ghost. Even her precious Jindan didn’t dare bully Dabao and Xiaobao anymore.

Still… Ruan Jiaojiao had to admit, Shen Junmei’s cooking wasn’t bad at all.