Chapter 2: The Twins

“Mom…” Xiaxia suddenly grabbed her brother’s arm.

Although she had grown disillusioned with her mother, there was still a flicker of concern in her eyes.

The two little ones, like sticky rice dumplings, tiptoed to get a better view.

Through the frosty window, they saw their mother—who always huddled with a hunched back—throwing cold water from an enamel mug onto their grandmother.

After Jiang Ningning splashed the water, she stepped aside and stood at a distance, her hand pressed against her chest, displaying a look of fear. “Mom, I kindly tried to wash your face for you. If you don’t appreciate it, fine, but why are you acting like a shrew throwing dishes?”

Tian Cuifen felt a chill run through her as she heard her being called a shrew, and her face contorted with rage.

“My face isn’t dirty, why would you wash it? And how is it that you’re so helpful?” Tian Cuifen snapped.

Jiang Ningning admitted her mistake with feigned meekness. “Mom, it’s my fault. I misjudged things; it’s your heart that’s the problem.”

She still wore that submissive, little-wife demeanor, her eyelids half-lowered, trembling slightly like a fragile flower caught in the cold wind. Her words grew increasingly biting with each passing sentence.

“My parents were martyrs, our Jiang family is extinct, and my younger brother isn’t afraid of getting shot? Donglin is at the frontlines defending the country—if the leaders find out that his family isn’t getting enough food or warmth…”

Tian Cuifen, who often used guilt to manipulate her daughter-in-law, was now on the receiving end of her words. The shift in her expression was palpable as she turned angry again. “What do you mean by that? Are you saying that the Ho family is abusing you? No other daughter-in-law has it as easy as you do, not having to work and living off your husband!”

The more she spoke, the more righteous she felt. Jiang Ningning couldn’t do any housework, nearly setting the kitchen on fire while trying to cook, and constantly hurt herself while moving coal. When her voice grew a little louder, Jiang Ningning would burst into tears.

It was like marrying a princess who expected to be pampered!

“What family doesn’t live frugally these days? You want to eat fish and meat every day? That’s bourgeois! People like you are the ones who would be criticized publicly!”

Tian Cuifen relentlessly scolded her, and Jiang Ningning, feeling both ashamed and frightened, couldn’t help but burst into tears.

Her voice quivered softly, “This good fortune should be for you to enjoy, Mom.”

She suddenly pulled the door open with force.

Tian Cuifen: ?

Jiang Ningning wiped her tears with her hand, her eyes reddened, and the cold wind ruffled her raven-black hair.

Resilient, fragile, and yet incredibly beautiful.

The neighbors had long been aware of the commotion in the Jiang household, peering curiously into the scene. At that moment, they all held their breath as they witnessed the tragic scene unfold.

Jiang Ningning leaned both hands against the red bricks of the hallway, saying, “Tomorrow, I’ll take Xiaxia and Manman to the military area to find Donglin and get a divorce. I’ll ask his leaders how someone like Donglin can be so capable.”

Divorce?!

The crowd instantly erupted.

The oppression Jiang Ningning had suffered from her in-laws was no secret. Even the factory’s women’s director had visited multiple times, subtly encouraging her to stand up for herself.

But every time, Jiang Ningning had once again given in and contributed more to her in-laws.

The factory leadership and the neighbors had long given up on trying to intervene, letting it go on for so long that it had become a sad joke, though everyone pitied the twins more and more.

For Jiang Ningning to say the word “divorce” was like a fairy tale.

Even Tian Cuifen’s explosive temper was temporarily subdued.

But it quickly turned into a storm of fury.

How dare the eldest daughter-in-law mention divorce? Who gave her the guts?

Just as she was about to unleash her wrath, Jiang Ningning had already stepped onto the pile of coal in the hallway, her pants stained black, half of her body leaning outside.

Jiang Ningning’s neck, delicate and fair as porcelain, was exposed, like a narcissus flower that hadn’t yet wilted.

As she glanced downward, her head suddenly swam.

Crap! It seemed like this body was afraid of heights.

Mid-performance, she had no choice but to carry on, her legs trembling as she continued her tearful confession: “Back then, I was married off to bear children for him, but now all the allowances are being ‘honorably’ given to his parents.”

“I, along with my two children, barely get enough to eat. We can only manage a handful of wild vegetable dumplings every few days, and we’re on the brink of starvation. Meanwhile, they’re trying every possible way to take our house and my job for their family.”

“The only two things I absolutely won’t give up are my house and my job. They’re the only things I can leave behind for Xiaxia and Manman…,” her voice broke again. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she fought to keep them from falling.

The people who had long seen her as weak, suddenly saw a different side to Jiang Ningning—strong for the sake of her children, and unyielding in the face of adversity. Even those who had criticized her for being passive in the past now felt a deep sense of respect and sympathy for her.

The empathetic women of the neighborhood had already started wiping their eyes. After all, Jiang Ningning had grown up in their community. Her parents had died for the factory, and no one could stand by idly.

Aunt Zhu, holding a dustpan, rushed out of the communal kitchen. Coal dust fell from her apron as she hurriedly said, “Ningning, please don’t do anything foolish. We’re here for you. No one is going to take your house.”

Jiang Ningning shook her head, a calming smile slowly forming at the corner of her lips. “Thank you, Aunt Zhu, but I can’t trouble you. It’s better this way…”

She hesitated and cast a timid glance at Tian Cuifen, her thin body shrinking as her voice dropped even lower. “Better not to drag you into this mess.”

Aunt Zhu’s chest tightened. Jiang Ningning was such a good child—she had never once asked them for help since being kicked out by her in-laws. A delicate woman, she had been raising two children on her own under tough circumstances. Now, even though Jiang Ningning was willing to take drastic measures to shock her in-laws, she didn’t want to bring any trouble to others. It was because she feared they would be targeted by the Ho family.

Aunt Zhu shot a venomous glance at Tian Cuifen and placed herself firmly between the two women. “Don’t be afraid. This land belongs to the textile factory. We’re not going to let some outsider make trouble here.”

Tian Cuifen, her anger mounting, stepped forward with a scowl. “This is the Ho family’s home!”

“Mom, if you want to hit someone, hit me! But don’t take it out on Aunt Zhu. According to Article 5, Chapter 3 of the Military Family Allowance Regulations, anyone who fraudulently collects military allowances could face three years of forced labor. Should I go report it to the Armed Forces Bureau right now?”

Jiang Ningning, taking the opportunity, stepped down from the coal pile, her fear of heights making her legs wobbly as she almost toppled to the ground.

From the corner of the room, two small figures shot forward like missiles, each grabbing one of her hands.

“Mom…”

“Comrade Jiang, you really are too silly. You shouldn’t climb to such heights.”

Jiang Ningning finally realized that “Comrade Jiang” was her own name, and the sarcastic words came from her son, the elder twin.

The twins stood out in their tattered clothes, the cuffs of their pants frayed, and their small hands were covered in bruises and frostbite.

The contrast was stark as they held Jiang Ningning’s soft, fair hand.

A wave of guilt washed over Jiang Ningning, and she mentally cursed both the original character and the author a thousand times over.

Sensing her intense gaze, Manman instinctively withdrew his hand.

Mom didn’t like their dirty appearance, nor did she approve of their scavenging.

But he was too young. The factory refused to hire him, so they had no choice but to collect scraps to feed their mother and sister.

However, this time, Jiang Ningning gripped his hand tightly, refusing to let go.

In the bitter winter wind, her hand, though cold, was warmer than his.

Her large palm enveloped his small hand, leaving only a trace of white—just like the cleanliness and purity that connected him to his mother.