“Auntie, I truly want to marry Zhihuan.”

As soon as Zhu Dazhuang said this, Shen Zhimei, sitting next to Shen Zhihuan, was so shocked that she nearly jumped off the bench.

Wasn’t this guy Yang Zhongyi’s friend? And now he’s…

“I know I have three boys, but they’re all well-behaved. They’d never upset Zhihuan. My younger sister, whom you’ve met, is mild-tempered and easy to get along with. My mother, though she’s a bit chatty, has a good heart. I promise she would never make life difficult for her daughter-in-law.”

“Dazhuang, I know you’re a good man,” said Li Qiuhua, softening a bit. “But our Zhihuan really isn’t a good match for you. Her health isn’t great—she’s constantly on medication and sometimes can’t even get out of bed.”

“With her condition, forget helping with chores, taking care of her in-laws, or handling housework. It’s good enough if she doesn’t burden them. To be honest, if my Weidong wanted to marry someone as sickly as Zhihuan, I wouldn’t agree.”

“Even if your household doesn’t have much work, someone still has to take care of daily life. I don’t think Zhihuan could handle it.”

“Don’t worry, Auntie. Our family doesn’t have much work to do. My mother, sister, and I can handle it. I would never let Zhihuan suffer any grievances,” Zhu Dazhuang replied earnestly, almost swearing an oath.

Li Qiuhua looked at Zhu Dazhuang’s sincere expression and felt her heart soften.

“Dazhuang, you should ask your mother to help you find someone else. Zhihuan really isn’t suitable for you.”

“But, Auntie…” Zhu Dazhuang started to protest.

Before he could finish, Yang Sanhong, who had been eavesdropping from the doorway, rushed in, throwing all decorum aside.
“Brother Dazhuang, don’t you see? They’re just not interested in you.”

“Yang Sanhong, what are you doing here causing trouble?!” Yang Zhongyi snapped, furious.

What a disgrace she was to their family.

“How am I causing trouble? It’s clear as day that the Shen family doesn’t think highly of you, brother Dazhuang,” Yang Sanhong retorted, glaring at Shen Zhihuan.

Then she turned to Zhu Dazhuang and said, “Don’t be fooled by that sickly girl’s face.”

“Yang Sanhong, can you please stay out of my business? I don’t need you meddling,” Zhu Dazhuang growled, his face darkening.

If it weren’t for fear of frightening Shen Zhihuan’s family, he would’ve kicked Yang Sanhong out. She was the most insensible woman he had ever met.

Seeing Zhu Dazhuang stride out, Yang Sanhong stomped her feet in frustration. “Brother Dazhuang, that sickly girl is just stringing you along! Don’t fall for it…”

“Yang Sanhong, if you have something to say to your brother Dazhuang, say it to him directly. Why drag me into it? My weak health isn’t your business,” Shen Zhihuan snapped, unable to hold back anymore.

She had intended to stay quiet like a “deaf mute,” but this woman kept calling her “sickly” as if she’d done something wrong.

What kind of person was this, badmouthing her openly like that?

“Let me give you a kind suggestion, Sanhong,” Shen Zhihuan said coolly. “With your temperament, you might want to marry close to home. That way, if someone beats you up in the future, you’ll at least have someone nearby to break up the fight.”

“You sickly brat, are you cursing me?!” Yang Sanhong screeched and lunged forward.

Li Qiuhua hurriedly stood up to shield Shen Zhihuan. At the same time, Shen Zhimei stepped in front of her sister protectively.

Even Xiao Weidong ran to stand by his third sister, clenching his little fists as if ready to fight anyone who dared touch her.

“Can’t you calm down for once, Sanhong?” Yang Zhongyi scolded, grabbing her arm.

“You call yourself my brother? You’re defending that sickly girl over me?” Yang Sanhong wailed, tears streaming down her face.

Hearing the commotion, old lady Yang rushed in from the kitchen. Seeing her daughter crying pitifully, she immediately slapped Yang Zhongyi’s hand away and pulled Yang Sanhong into her arms.
“Who upset you, dear? Tell me, and I’ll sort them out for you.”

Her sharp, triangular eyes darted toward the Shen family.

“Mother, that sickly girl cursed me, and instead of standing up for me, my brother took her side!” Yang Sanhong sobbed.

“Shen Zhihuan, apologize to Sanhong immediately!” Before old lady Yang could say anything, Shen Zhilan jumped up, her righteous indignation almost making it seem as if Yang Sanhong was her real sister.

Li Qiuhua cast a complicated glance at Shen Zhilan but said nothing.

“Apologize? How exactly?” Shen Zhihuan asked, a sly smile playing on her lips.

She wanted to see how far Shen Zhilan would go for the Yang family and her own ambitions.

“She needs to kneel and apologize!” Yang Sanhong demanded angrily.

“Yang Sanhong, stop being ridiculous!” Yang Zhongyi scolded, earning a glare from old lady Yang.

“Kneel?” Shen Zhihuan chuckled. “You think I should kneel for her, Shen Zhilan?”

Shen Zhilan looked down, avoiding her sister’s gaze. She knew Shen Zhihuan wouldn’t comply.

“I’m just trying to help you,” Shen Zhihuan said, feigning innocence. “But anyone who’s had me kneel to them didn’t live long.”

“Mother! She’s cursing me again!” Yang Sanhong wailed.

“I’m just stating a fact,” Shen Zhihuan replied with a laugh.

“You know, Sanhong, you should really stay home more. With your foul mouth and lack of sense, it’s only a matter of time before someone beats you so badly your own mother won’t recognize you.”

Old lady Yang’s face turned purple with rage, but with Li Qiuhua silent, she couldn’t openly argue back.

“It’s getting late. We’ll take our leave now,” Li Qiuhua said curtly, dragging Shen Zhihuan out the door. Shen Zhimei quickly picked up Xiao Weidong and followed closely.

If it weren’t for her second daughter’s predicament, Li Qiuhua would’ve slapped Yang Sanhong herself.

“Mother!” Yang Zhongyi called, chasing after them.

“Yang Zhongyi!” old lady Yang called sharply, stopping him in his tracks.

Yang Zhongyi froze mid-step, his mother’s voice heavy with authority. He stood there helplessly, watching the Shen family leave.