When Old Lady Qian said this, Shen Zhimei didn’t dare return to her room. She quickly slung her basket over her back and led the two little girls out the door.

Qian Dabao stuck out his tongue at their retreating figures, made a face, and ran over to Old Lady Qian.

“Grandma, try it! The big apple those little pests brought back is so sweet.” Qian Dabao stood on tiptoe, holding the apple up to Old Lady Qian’s mouth.

“Grandma doesn’t want it. You eat it.” Old Lady Qian’s wrinkled face spread into a smile.

She had never expected that sickly little sister of Shen Zhimei, who could be blown away by a gust of wind, to make so much money just by writing some nonsense.

“Grandma, those little pests said their widow grandma gives them rice porridge, braised pork, pork ribs, and big meat buns every day,” Qian Dabao said, biting into the apple with a loud crunch.

“From now on, Grandma will make you braised pork, pork ribs, and big meat buns every day.” Old Lady Qian glanced in the direction of Qian Xing Wang and Shen Zhi Mei’s room with a smile.

“Grandma, you’re the best!” Qian Dabao cheered.

“Ah-choo! Ah-choo! Ah-choo!”

Shen Zhihuan, hunched over her desk writing an article, sneezed several times in a row.

She glanced at the bright sunlight outside and turned back to grab a jacket to put on. This body was really fragile.

Thinking about how Shen Zhimei had looked when she left, Shen Zhihuan rubbed her temples, which were starting to throb.

“Zhihuan, shouldn’t we go to Zhulin Village to check on your eldest sister?” Li Qiuhua entered, her eyes red and her face full of worry.

Shen Zhihuan sighed inwardly. After spending so much time calming Li Qiuhua earlier, here she was again, looking even more upset.

“And what would we do after checking on her?” Shen Zhihuan asked, looking up at her mother.

Her eldest sister had chosen to return. It was obvious that she would apologize, admit her mistakes, and obediently hand over the quilts and cotton. What other options did she have?

Would Old Lady Qian give her another way out?

“She’s your elder sister. How can you…” Li Qiuhua started crying again.

Her eldest daughter was too soft and meek. If only she had even half the spirit of her younger daughter…

“Mother, it was Eldest Sister’s decision to return. What do you want me to do about it?” Shen Zhihuan asked, her headache worsening.

Her eldest sister was an adult, fully capable of making her own decisions. She had to face the consequences of her choices.

If she couldn’t stand tall for herself, no amount of support—even from the Monkey King with his Golden Cudgel—would keep her standing.

“Mother, if Eldest Sister comes back, don’t give her any money or anything else,” Shen Zhihuan added after a moment of thought. “Not even a needle or thread.”

“What do you mean?” Li Qiuhua frowned.

“I hope I’m overthinking,” Shen Zhihuan said, rubbing her aching temples.

To her surprise, only a few days after Shen Zhimei left, Shen Zhilan showed up in the rain.

Shen Zhihuan was sitting at the dining table, writing, when Shen Zhilan entered, cold rain dripping from her hair. She cast a frosty glance at Shen Zhihuan before heading straight to Li Qiuhua’s room.

Because of the rain, the villagers hadn’t gone to work. Li Qiuhua, who had just returned from walking Xiao Weidong to school with an umbrella, was busy sewing a padded jacket for Shen Zhihuan.

She looked up at the sound of footsteps and saw Shen Zhilan standing in the doorway, her hair wet.

Li Qiuhua quickly grabbed a dry towel from outside and handed it to her, then turned to find dry clothes.

“Why didn’t you take an umbrella in this downpour?”

Shen Zhilan’s cold eyes landed on the floral jacket Li Qiuhua was sewing, her hands motionless.

When Li Qiuhua returned with the clothes, she finally noticed her second daughter’s unusual demeanor.

“What’s wrong? Did you have an argument with Zhongyi?” Li Qiuhua asked worriedly, placing the clothes on the bed and taking Shen Zhilan’s hand.

Shen Zhilan yanked her hand away and demanded sharply, “Am I even your real daughter?”

Li Qiuhua froze, frowning. “Who’s been spreading nonsense? If you’re not my daughter, then whose child are you?”

Had she imagined carrying this child for ten months? What kind of heartless gossiping woman could make up such a lie?

“If you say I’m your daughter, then tell me this: why did you give Eldest Sister two quilts, two pounds of cotton, fifty-six yuan, thirty cents, and two bags of milk powder, but not me?” Shen Zhilan threw the towel to the ground in anger.

She accepted being outshone by that sickly girl, but why should Shen Zhimei, a fool, get so much more?

“Go to Zhulin Village and ask around. Everyone knows Eldest Sister gave all of it to Old Lady Qian just to return to her family,” Shen Zhilan spat bitterly.

Li Qiuhua stood frozen in shock.

Shen Zhilan sneered, “Thanks to your eldest daughter, everyone in the village now knows that the third Shen girl in Panshi Village writes for a Beijing magazine and earns over a hundred yuan a month.”

Li Qiuhua’s body trembled with rage.

“Mother, am I not your daughter too? Why are you so biased?” Shen Zhilan laughed bitterly, tears streaming down her face.

“Shen Zhilan, that was my money, not Mother’s,” Shen Zhihuan said from the doorway, unable to stay silent any longer.

Shen Zhilan glared at her venomously, wiping away her tears.

“It’s my money, and I’ll give it to whoever I want. Don’t even think about it,” Shen Zhihuan said, leaning against the doorframe, her eyes filled with mockery.

“You short-lived wretch! No matter how much money you earn, it won’t do you any good when you’re dead!” Shen Zhilan snapped.

“Slap!”

Li Qiuhua raised her hand and delivered a hard slap across Shen Zhilan’s face.

“Get out!” Li Qiuhua’s face darkened with fury.

“You hit me again!” Shen Zhilan cried, holding her cheek, her eyes red with indignation.

“Out!” Li Qiuhua barked, pointing to the courtyard gate.

Shen Zhihuan quickly stepped aside to make way, avoiding any potential outburst from Shen Zhilan.

Sure enough, Shen Zhilan stormed out of the house, her anger palpable. Shen Zhihuan retreated two steps further, watching warily.

Shen Zhilan shot her a venomous glare, her eyes brimming with malice.

“You cursed wretch, I’ll wait to see when—”

Before Shen Zhilan could finish, Li Qiuhua stormed out, grabbed her arm, and dragged her to the courtyard gate.

She threw Shen Zhilan out and slammed the gate shut behind her.

“Go on, coddle this short-lived wretch! Let’s see how long you can protect her!” Shen Zhilan shouted from outside the gate.

“Even if I die, don’t expect a penny from me,” Shen Zhihuan replied calmly.