---

Chapter 9: You Must Treat An’an Well

Zhan Nan Hui took a sip of the wild vegetable soup, and without saying another word, quickly finished it along with the big steamed bun. In no time, the entire bowl of soup was gone.

He wiped his mouth and, for the first time, felt a warm sensation spreading through his body.

Zhan Nan Hui wanted to say something to express his gratitude, but before he could speak, the woman expressionlessly cleared away the dishes in front of him.

He rubbed his nose, unsure of what he had done wrong.

He stood up and went to the riverbank to gather some firewood.

Taking advantage of his absence, Yi An’an immediately turned to his outerwear, reaching in and searching for the photo. After fumbling around for a while, she couldn’t find it.

When she saw him coming back, she quickly lay down on the bed, pretending that nothing had happened.

“I gathered half a basket of firewood—enough for tomorrow,” Zhan Nan Hui said softly. He then scooped some hot water from the pot in the kitchen to wipe himself down, climbed into bed, and lay next to Yi An’an.

Before he could say anything, Yi An’an turned her head and blew out the candle.

Time to sleep!

In the darkness, Zhan Nan Hui listened to her steady breathing. He wanted to say something but didn’t know how to begin.

In the middle of the night, Yi An’an was woken by the cold. Instinctively, she wanted to move closer to the man and nestle in his arms, but then she suddenly remembered the figure of Chen Sisi from earlier that day and the way the man had looked at her. Stubbornly, she curled into herself and hugged her own body tightly.

Zhan Nan Hui also woke up from the cold. He glanced at the woman beside him, who was curled up into a tight ball. Several times he wanted to reach out and pull her into his arms, but each time he hesitated and held back.

They had only lived together for two days—when had he become this soft-hearted?

He turned his back to her, reminding himself of his plans, and his eyes grew cold again.

Marrying this woman was never part of his plan. He shouldn’t be investing so much emotion in her.

He closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

---

Early the next morning, before dawn, Yi An’an heard noise outside.

She got up, slipped on her shoes, and just as she opened the door, a slap landed across her face.

Still half-asleep and unreactive, Yi An’an didn’t have time to dodge. But when the woman tried to slap her again, Yi An’an kicked her hard to the ground.

The woman—her stepmother—howled in pain, “Raising you for over ten years and this is how you repay me, you ungrateful wretch! You dare hit your own mother?!”

Yi Daping, who had come along, saw his mother get knocked down and rushed forward, raising his hand. But before he could strike, a strong hand grabbed his wrist.

Yi An’an turned to see Zhan Nan Hui standing behind her like a mountain. One hand protected her, while the other restrained Yi Daping’s wrist.

“An’an, did you really do such a thing?” came a feeble, aged voice.

Yi An’an’s eyes dimmed as she turned to see her father lying on a makeshift bed.

Her stepmother and Yi Daping had brought him here—clearly planning to make a scene.

Yi An’an hesitated only briefly before she lifted her foot and kicked Yi Daping hard in the stomach.

Yi Daping screamed in pain and collapsed.

Yi An’an sneered. She had bottled up this resentment for years. Today, she finally let out a little of it.

Zhan Nan Hui, still holding Yi Daping’s arm, was stunned by the sudden fierceness. He looked down at the petite woman standing protectively in front of him.

There was a surprising toughness in this woman.

“My son!” her stepmother wailed, rushing to help Yi Daping up as if he were her most precious treasure.

“An’an, what are you doing?!” her father asked, voice trembling as he coughed.

Yi An’an sighed. In her previous life, she had been sent off to the Yan family, and she never saw her father again before he died.

She didn’t blame him for being unable to protect her, but she would not return to the Yi household prison, not even for him.

“Dad, I married Zhan Nan Hui. I chose him myself and will take responsibility. I will not go back to that house,” Yi An’an said in a low voice. “If you want to live a bit longer, delay giving that pickled vegetable-selling job at the supply center to Yi Jixiang. And don’t give your funeral savings to this man who’s not even blood-related, just so he can get married,” she added coldly.

Her stepmother had clearly brought Yi’s father to pressure her emotionally. After all, she had always been a filial daughter, obedient to her father. But now, seeing her father again, the girl had instead tried to drive a wedge between him and his wife!

“What nonsense are you spouting?!” the stepmother shrieked, stomping her feet. “If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have survived! How dare you say such things—you ungrateful brat!”

Yi An’an sneered. When her stepmother had come into their home, she had been just a child and had regarded the woman as her real mother. It wasn’t until after being sold in her past life that she learned this woman was only a stepmother.

Thinking back to the unfair treatment over the years made her laugh bitterly.

She had always blamed herself for not being good or obedient enough, thinking that was why her mother didn’t love her. So she had always tried harder—doing all the housework, never competing with her brother or sister for anything. If it hadn’t been for her father’s insistence, she wouldn’t have even dared take the pickled vegetable job.

“Dad, that’s all I wanted to say. The choice is yours. You can come with me—if I have food, so will you. Or you can stay over there,” Yi An’an said.

“Datong, look at this girl! This is how she treats her mother! And she still wants your wages!” her stepmother cried, throwing herself in front of her husband.

Even though he was paralyzed, Yi’s father still received half a salary from the supply center—twenty yuan a month, a decent income in a rural village like Yan Family Village.

He coughed twice and whispered something to his wife, who instantly protested.

“What? You want to let Yi An’an marry this thug? And what about the 30 yuan owed to the village head? What about Daping’s marriage?” the stepmother shouted.

“I’ll pay the money,” Yi’s father said softly. He looked at Yi An’an and asked in a low voice, “An’an, this is your decision. Don’t regret it later.”

Yi An’an bit her lip. She hadn’t expected her father to agree so easily. She replied quietly, “Marrying anyone is better than marrying Yan Dabao.”

Yi’s father turned to look at Zhan Nan Hui, trembling as he reached out his hand.

Zhan Nan Hui’s eyes darkened. After a moment’s hesitation, he stepped forward and grasped the old man’s hand.

“Be good to An’an. She’s had a hard life… but she’s a good girl,” Yi’s father said quietly.

Zhan Nan Hui looked down at the man’s withered fingers and nodded.

Yi’s father seemed relieved. He smiled slightly and turned to his wife. “Let’s go back and get the money. Also, have Jixiang start work at the supply center tomorrow.”