After harvesting the Sanqi, only then did Li Xiaohan finally let out the breath she had been holding. Her heartbeat finally felt like her own again. 

But after crying and running so much, she was both emotionally and physically exhausted. Taking a deep breath, she said, “Father, Mother, the few Sanqi we gathered today are enough. Let’s go back.” 

Staying too long in the forest while this worn out might lead to accidents. 

Sure enough, upon hearing her words, Li Xianong and Madam Wang nodded blankly. They too were clearly drained. 

The three of them supported one another as they descended the mountain. Li Xiaohan took the opportunity to say, “Father, later when Grandpa talks about dividing the family property—if I say anything, can you listen to me?” 

“Xiao Han, what are you planning to say?” Li Xiandong asked, puzzled. “You’re young. Don’t go against your grandfather, it won’t be good for your reputation.” 

In times like these, the concept of “filial piety” could be used to crush someone. Just look at how unjustly Li Xiandong had been treated during the last household division, yet all he could do was cry at his mother’s grave. If not for Li Xiaohan, he would have had no choice but to risk his life hunting for rumored ginseng in the mountains. 

“Don’t worry, Father. Grandmother asked me to bring something up with Grandfather,” Li Xiaohan reassured him. She knew it wouldn’t be easy to change her father’s way of thinking in one go, so she borrowed her biological grandmother’s name. 

Sure enough, hearing mention of his own mother, Li Xiandong fell silent. 

The three of them returned home leaning on each other. The rest of the Li family was already back. 

Seeing Li Xiandong, Li Shengli’s face first relaxed into a relieved smile. No accident had occurred, so the family’s reputation was safe. 

But right after that, a trace of irritation flickered across his face. Was his eldest son trying to use death to threaten him? 

In the end, when he saw Li Xiandong’s red, swollen eyes, that annoyance faded. After all, they were father and son—no need to let things go that far and become a laughingstock for others. 

Had Li Xiaohan not been closely watching her grandfather’s every move, she might’ve missed the subtle change in expression. Her parents, by contrast, walked with heads down, numb and unwilling to face reality. 

Li Xiaohan continued scanning the people around her. Leaning by the kitchen doorway was her step-grandmother, Madam Chen. She held a water ladle in hand, her face feigning calm, but her eyes first betrayed resentment and then undisguised delight and satisfaction. 

Of all people in the household, the one most eager for the family to split had to be step-grandmother Chen. After all, in her eyes, their entire branch was made up of outsiders. 

However, Madam Chen had always operated subtly, sowing influence through whispers rather than direct action. This sudden push to divide the household must have been triggered by someone—someone who accelerated the whole matter. Most likely, it was her cousin Li Changrong, who had recently become a student of Scholar Zhu. 

Li Xiaohan’s eyes involuntarily searched for Li Changrong. He stood at the front of the main hall. Thirteen years old, wearing a blue cotton robe, hair tied up neatly, slim figure—he had a refined look rarely seen in farming families. But his face was pale, lips pressed tight, and his eyes revealed a swirl of unreadable emotions. 

Of course, someone like him—aiming to take the imperial exam—would care greatly about reputation. If something bad were to happen to her family, his scholarly path might end right there. 

In the past, she’d thought her older cousin was just another rural boy. Only now did she realize he was actually a named character in the story—far more significant than their own family of side characters. He also had far more cunning. 

And it made sense. Her father was the eldest son, and her mother often took medicine. If by chance she became pregnant and bore a son, by clan rules, all the family property would go to their branch. 

How could her cousin take that risk? With the excuse of going off to school and knowing her family had no male heirs, it seemed he had seized the moment to pressure for the household to be divide—even at the cost of giving up the family’s main labor force. 

Looking around at everyone else, Li Xiaohan sighed internally. It looked like everything had already been decided, and her father was just the last one to be informed. 

She kept her thoughts running while her hands moved efficiently. Taking her mother’s hand, she led her into the room. “Grandfather, Grandmother, my mother isn’t feeling well. I’ll take her inside to rest a bit.” 

Upon hearing this, Li Xiandong also limped into the room. The three of them didn’t even put down their baskets before retreating into the house. 

No one stopped them. Not Li Shengli, not Madam Chen. And the others didn’t dare say anything either. The rest of the family continued working in silence. No one asked about the three of them. No one complained. It was as if they didn’t even belong to this household anymore. 

At this moment, the bloodlines of different mothers had clearly split the family into two opposing sides. 

Inside the room, Li Xiaohan helped her mother sit down, then quietly removed the Sanqi roots hidden at the bottom of the basket and stored them somewhere safe. She then rearranged the pigweed to cover the empty space. 

Seeing Li Xiandong staring blankly at the ceiling beams, she didn’t bother saying more. Words were useless now. He was the one most emotionally wounded by this whole situation. 

Before long, a voice came from outside. Li Changrong called, “Uncle, Aunt, Xiao Han, come out and eat.” 

Li Xiaohan noted how steady his voice sounded now. 

The more she thought about her cousin, the more complicated he seemed. How had he managed to become a formal student of Scholar Zhu? 

Scholar Zhu lives in the neighboring village, while Pingshan Village’s school has its own teacher, although he’s just an old tongsheng (scholar who passed the entry-level imperial exam). 

And when had this plan started? 

Was it after failing the Tongsheng exam earlier this year? 

Or even before that? 

Even though the family rules didn’t state it outright, it was an unspoken rule: if you didn’t pass your first Tongsheng exam by 14, or the second by 18, the clan would advise you to consider other options. No point clinging to books if you couldn’t survive in the real world. 

If their branch of the family were separated out now, then even if he failed the exam next year, since the household would be made up of only his own immediate family, the cousin would have a better chance of convincing them to continue supporting his studies. 

Whether it was a carefully thought-out plan developed over time, or an opportunistic move born from understanding people’s minds, this cousin was clearly not someone to be underestimated. 

With these heavy thoughts, Li Xiaohan followed Li Xiandong and Madam Wang out and sat in their usual spots. 

This meal wasn’t really a meal—no one had their heart in the food, and everyone just ate absentmindedly. 

When it was nearly over, Li Shengli cleared his throat. “Since everyone’s here, I have something to say.” 

“Your mother and I are getting old, and all of you have your own families now. It’s time to divide the household. Your mother and I will keep the majority of the family property for our retirement, while you three brothers are still young and capable of making your own way. Xiandong, as the eldest, you’ll split off and build your own house. We’ll give you five diaoqian (stringed coins) for construction. Xian’nan and Xian’xi are still young, your mother and I will continue to help them for a few more years. As for land, you’ll get two mu of paddy fields and three mu of dry land near the village.” 

“Xiandong, you’re the eldest. I’ve always trusted you. What do you think?” 

Li Xiandong kept his head down. After a long pause, he replied with a note of despair, “I’ll listen to Father.” 

How could he object to his father’s decision about retirement money? Even if everyone knew where that money would really end up. 

Satisfied with the answer, Li Shengli still turned to everyone else. “Even though we’re splitting, remember—you’re all brothers, all one family. Especially since we come from scholars, we must keep a good reputation. Don’t say I’m being biased. As long as Changrong succeeds, he’ll help lift us all one day. Then you’ll understand my intentions.” 

Li Xiannan and Li Xianxi held back their excitement and nodded in agreement. Madam Chen’s face couldn’t hide her joy, though she tried. Li Changrong kept his head down and pretended to look modest. Li Xiaohan rolled her eyes inwardly. Bullshit. 

“Grandfather,” Li Xiaohan said slowly, interrupting with a concerned tone, “My father is very filial. Of course, he’ll have no objections to what you say.” 

“But I’m worried about him. Today he knelt at Grandmother’s grave and knocked his head on the ground several times. He even spoke his heart to her. I’m afraid… he might be thinking something foolish.” 

As Li Xiaohan spoke, she glanced over at Li Xiandong. Today, he had cried bitterly in front of his mother’s grave, feeling extremely wronged. His eyes were still red, and there were marks on his forehead from secretly kowtowing. Now that the matter had passed and his daughter brought it up again, the honest man could only lower his head in shame. 

But if you asked Li Xiaohan, there was nothing for her father to be ashamed of—clearly, it was her grandfather who had done wrong, yet he felt no shame at all. 

Sure enough, when Li Xiaohan mentioned the deceased first wife, Madam Luo, Li Shengli’s expression darkened. His new wife, Madam Chen, didn’t look too pleased either. 

Li Xiaohan paid them no mind and continued speaking with sorrow, “Now the three of us have no more hope. I’m not a boy, and my parents are in poor health—I don’t know if we can hang on. But if it really becomes unbearable, then at worst, we’ll all go join Grandmother. At least we’ll be together as a whole family. Don’t worry, we won’t ruin Grandfather’s reputation, and we won’t interfere with Brother Changrong’s studies.” 

As soon as she said this, Li Shengli’s expression grew even worse. Li Changrong looked up and glared fiercely at Li Xiaohan. 

But Li Xiaohan only offered a sorrowful smile, holding the trembling Madam Wang—whose painful memories had been stirred by these words—and gently tried to comfort her. “Mother don’t be sad. Even though we have nothing left, at least we’re still together.” 

For a moment, Li Shengli, Li Changrong, and the others couldn’t tell if it was real or acting. After all, people with nothing to lose are the scariest. If Li Xiandong’s family really did something drastic in front of Madam Luo’s grave—even if it was just a dramatic outburst—it would ruin Li Shengli’s reputation and Li Changrong’s academic future would be over. 

The whole point of diving the family property was to support Li Changrong’s studies. But now it had turned into a burden. 

“What do you want?” Li Shengli asked. 

“Grandfather, my father has worked like an ox for half his life. We only want to survive. Four mu of paddy fields and six mu of dry land. You know what kind of person my father is,” Li Xiaohan stated her request. 

She had carefully calculated this amount on the way over. It should be just enough for their family to survive and just barely acceptable for her grandfather. 

She could have asked for more, but she didn’t want to risk him backing out entirely. If that happened, she’d rather settle for less and make sure the separation happened. 

“Fine. We’ll do it that way,” Li Shengli gritted his teeth. He truly was afraid his eldest son’s family might do something foolish. If that happened, how could he ever show his face in the clan again? 

Forget it. His eldest son had no sons of his own—after a hundred years, the land would still return to the Li family anyway. 

Once Li Shengli made the decision—and with Li Xiaohan’s earlier veiled threats—Madam Chen and Li Changrong didn’t dare to object. 

“In that case, go find the clan head to write the household division agreement. All three brothers should bring their wives. Changrong, you come too—from now on, you’ll be the eldest grandson of our branch,” Li Shengli finally let out a sigh of relief. 

At the mention of “eldest grandson,” Madam Wang froze. The joy she had just felt over getting a few extra mu of land was instantly overshadowed. But Li Xiaohan steadily supported her as they made their way to the clan head’s home. 

This was a critical moment. The more dangerous and difficult the situation, the steadier she had to be. 

In her past life, it was thanks to this lesson that Li Xiaohan had survived. At the most violent moment of the earthquake, she had hidden in the safe triangle of her house and even remembered to grab the half-full bottle of mineral water nearby. 

She held on for two days with that bottle. When it ran out, she used it to collect and purify dripping dirty water, struggling to stay alive. 

If it hadn’t been for the aftershock collapsing her shelter, Li Xiaohan believed she could have lasted even longer—long enough for rescue to arrive. 

That’s why, now, she showed no panic. Instead, she was extraordinarily calm. 

Only by fully detaching from emotion—coldly, rationally—could she fight for every possible chance of survival.