Yang Sizhu coughed thunderously, like her lungs were about to be hacked out of her chest.

Several times, she felt like she couldn’t catch her breath, certain she was going to die right then and there.

So cold. So hungry.

In a daze, she started dreaming again.

In the dream, Yu Xifeng was coughing too—wretched, heart-wrenching coughs—until she toppled from the sofa and curled up in the gap between it and the coffee table.

She heard Mom saying: “It’s just a cough, just a little cold, what’s the big deal? There’s no medicine at home. Xiao Yu, just drink some water. Longlong, Zhuzhu, be careful not to catch it.”

A sense of twisted satisfaction bubbled in Yang Sizhu’s chest.

Her throat was dry and itchy, and she couldn’t help but cough out loud.

The dream dissolved. Yang Sizhu opened her eyes.

She had dreamed again.

The one coughing and freezing—why had it become her?

Yang Silong wasn’t doing well either. He had seized the thickest blanket and wrapped himself up completely, looking pale and lifeless.

It wasn’t like this in the dream. In the dream, she had a hot water bottle, warm water, and a space heater. It was cold, yes, but compared to living in the corridor, it had felt like heaven.

Compared to Yang Silong, Yang Sizhu’s heart was brimming with even more bitterness.

Xu Qingrou clutched her children, her heart writhing in pain.

She grabbed Yang Rong’s arm. “Husband, this can’t go on. Our children will freeze to death. I can’t take it anymore. I’m going to beg her. She must have blankets and food in her room. I’ll kneel if I have to—just let Longlong inside!”

She knew Yang Rong cared the most about his son, Yang Silong.

A flicker of hope flashed in Yang Sizhu’s eyes, but it dimmed immediately when she heard what Xu Qingrou said.

She was cold too. Freezing. And yet sweat was still breaking out along her neck.

But her mom only mentioned Yang Silong.

Yang Rong was sleeping closest to the fire. He turned over at her words. “Then go.”

After noon, the temperature dropped even further.

The kitchen pipes burst.

Thankfully, they were mostly filled with ice shards, so the wastewater didn’t spray everywhere, and cleanup wasn’t too hard.

After clearing it all out, Yu Xifeng’s exposed hands were red from the cold.

Around noon, Yu Xifeng turned off the heating. Xiao Ju nestled in the bedroom and refused to come out.

Yu Xifeng packed up the trash and threw it into her dimensional space.

Outside, Xu Qingrou brought her children and knelt in front of Yu Xifeng’s door.

Yu Xifeng glanced at the monitor and sneered.

Yang Sizhu, clearly reluctant, knelt down only under Xu Qingrou’s scolding and pushing.

Her expression was contorted. Truly difficult for her, wasn’t it?

Seeing her face through the monitor, Yu Xifeng could tell—Yang Sizhu hated Xu Qingrou now.

In their past life, both Yang Rong and Xu Qingrou had spoiled Yang Sizhu.

They always bragged about treating all three kids equally, like balancing water evenly in three bowls.

How laughable.

In the past life, this whole family never missed a chance to flaunt their affection in front of her—love between husband and wife, father and son.

And now, just because she reclaimed what was hers, refused to let them drain her mother or herself dry, their picture-perfect family fell apart.

Xu Qingrou started by calling through the door, then knocked.

When she touched the door, she froze.

Because the bedroom heating was on, warmth seeped through, and the door wasn’t ice-cold.

She pressed her face closer. After a moment, she was sure—there was warm air inside!

Yu Xifeng had the heat on!

Xu Qingrou hadn’t thought about central heating—after all, this was the south. It was rare.

Yu Xifeng was in there, warm and cozy with her heater, while her own children were freezing and starving outside.

Was there no justice left in this world?

Xu Qingrou felt as if her heart was soaking in bitter gall. How could her children live worse than Yu Xifeng?

She hated herself for not killing this stepdaughter off earlier—now she was stepping on them to flaunt her power.

Xu Qingrou’s expression turned sorrowful. She didn’t scream or make a scene like Aunt Liu. Instead, she wailed:

“Xiao Yu, we don’t want to come in, but your younger siblings are still little and sick. Just let them in to get out of the wind. I know I wronged you in the past, but they’ve always treated you like a real sister. They never hurt you. For the sake of blood ties, save your siblings. Mom will kneel to you.”

Her voice grew louder and louder. Yu Xifeng, growing annoyed, opened the door.

Only the outer door, of course.

As soon as it opened, the warmth was even more apparent. Even Yang Sizhu instinctively leaned toward Yu Xifeng.

Yu Xifeng looked at Xu Qingrou. “It’s just a cough. A little cold. What’s the big deal?”

Yang Sizhu jerked her head up!

Those were the exact same words her mom had said in her dream.

Yang Sizhu had long suspected something—Yu Xifeng had changed too much. She wasn’t like this before.

Could it be that she, like herself, had had a prophetic dream? Is that how she knew to take the jewelry, seize the apartment early, and prepare for the coming disaster?

How ridiculous she had been, still hoping to laugh at Yu Xifeng’s misfortune in the apocalypse.

But it turned out Yu Xifeng was far more prepared than she was. Just look at how comfortably she was living now.

Yu Xifeng clearly knew more than she did—why hadn’t she said anything? Why didn’t she tell Dad?

They could’ve all lived well.

It’s all her cold, heartless fault.

Tears streamed down Xu Qingrou’s face. “It’s so cold. If this keeps up, they’ll die. You have heating and a big place. What difference do two kids make? I swear they won’t disturb you. I’m begging you, please.”

So Xu Qingrou did understand that people could freeze to death.

Yu Xifeng lowered her eyes. “Why are you begging me? You know full well—if you’d asked a complete stranger, they might’ve helped, seeing your kids were sick. But no—you came to me, someone who has a grudge against you.

Because deep down, you all still think I’m just a lonely girl, easy to manipulate, easy to guilt-trip.

Xu, did you ever consider—why should I let you manipulate me? Why should I care about the bastard you conceived before marriage, the one you were pregnant with before my mom even died?”

To Yang Sizhu, these words meant something else entirely. They confirmed the suspicions she’d already had.

Yu Xifeng was narrow-minded. She hated their family.

That’s why she took everything for herself and left them with nothing.

Xu Qingrou didn’t argue back. She just kept crying and apologizing.

Others in the building, freezing and unable to bear it, were wandering up and down the stairwell to stay warm.

Now that Xu Qingrou was causing a scene at Yu Xifeng’s door, people gathered around and quickly realized—Yu Xifeng’s apartment had heating.

“Seems like she didn’t care about what she said yesterday.”

“Blood is blood. Why not just let it go?”

“Yeah, her dad and siblings are freezing to death. She’s so heartless.”

“She lives in a warm apartment while her father has been out in the hallway for a month? What a stone-hearted girl.”

In an instant, everyone was speaking up for Xu Qingrou.

Yu Xifeng glanced at the faces outside her door. She saw the jealousy in their eyes.

Everyone was freezing. Why should she get to live so comfortably?

They didn’t care who was right. They just wanted to drag down anyone doing better than them. If they couldn’t beat her or take from her, they’d try to guilt her.

Even though just last night, Yu Xifeng had run up and down waking everyone up, giving them a warning, working through most of the night.

She took all this in and sneered. “Fine, I agree. But I hate noise. Two kids is too much. Only one can come in. You decide.”