Chapter 3: President Lin Blows Up (Part 2)

Lin Xiaqing never fought battles unprepared. That brood of Wang Aixian’s—none of them were easy to deal with. If she rashly stormed into their house, not only might she fail to reclaim what was stolen, but given their numbers, she could even end up being falsely accused.

But Lin Xiaqing was quick to grasp key points, and she instantly picked up on the significance of “Zhu Er” from Qiao Chunjin’s words.

She asked, “Mom, that tricycle belonged to Uncle Zhu Er, right?”

Qiao Chunjin got flustered, worried her daughter would get the wrong idea, and stammered, “Um… he came by this morning to check on me and just forgot to ride it home.”

That line didn’t hold water. A tricycle in the 1980s was a precious item—wealthy households might not even own one. Who would just “forget” such a thing at someone else’s place?

But Lin Xiaqing didn’t care about that. Her mind raced with calculations. Zhu Er was a quiet, honest widower who had focused on raising two sons after his wife passed away. He never remarried. In the countryside of this era, the more boys a family had, the stronger its labor force. Zhu Er’s two sons were in their early twenties, strong and well-fed from their family’s pig-slaughtering business—far sturdier than the scrawny village youths.

Zhu Er himself was only about 1.68 meters tall, but his two sons were brawny. Lin Xiaqing thought: to kick off the first “battle” at the Lin family estate, the Zhu trio would be the perfect reinforcements.

The original host was shy and meek—so timid that she didn’t even dare glance at a male dog sunbathing, let alone speak to men. Asking her to go request help from three grown men? She might as well jump into a river on the spot.

But Lin Xiaqing, who came from a sales background, had a silver tongue that could sell bitter herbs as the sweetest honey. With a plan in mind, she sprang into action—off to conscript some “muscle” from the Zhu household!

Her face, which was a spitting image of Qiao Chunjin’s delicate beauty, paired with her sweet, enthusiastic tone, was a lethal combo in the male-dominated household. One word from her and the three men were utterly charmed.

She called out “Big Brother Zhu” and “Second Brother Zhu” with ease, then turned to Zhu Er with watery eyes, gripping her clothes like a damsel in distress:
“Uncle, they’ve gone too far. It’s one thing to take our stuff, but how could they shamelessly steal your tricycle too? Don’t you think we should go confront them about it?”

Zhu Er’s eyes turned red with fury.

Go? Of course they’d go! If they didn’t stand up for the two women, they’d be ashamed to call themselves men! Besides, they’d long detested that freeloading group squatting in the Lin estate. Without the Lin family, would those leeches even have a roof over their heads? And now that old shrew was acting like an empress dowager since Old Man Lin passed? Ridiculous.

The three Zhu men wore faces dark with rage, eyes bulging and sleeves rolled up. They grabbed sticks and poles and charged off toward the Lin family house like they were going into battle.

On the way, Big Brother Zhu, blushing with anger and embarrassment, promised, “Don’t worry, Qingmei. Even if it’s just a scrap of toilet paper, we’ll get every last thing back for you!”

Lin Xiaqing couldn’t help but burst out laughing. He was a bit crude, but that promise? Heroic.

Second Brother Zhu scratched his head bashfully, “Qingmei, you used to never talk to us. Chatting like this feels so nice.”

The Zhu brothers had grown up with their father’s constant reminders to quietly look out for the Lin family’s girl. She had no father, and her mother was a fragile woman crushed by her in-laws—it was a pitiful life. Plus, Aunt Qiao had been their late mother’s best friend. Every winter, Aunt Qiao had sewn their cotton clothes by candlelight.

Despite the close family friendship, their father had always kept them from getting too close—“For her reputation,” he had said.

Back then, Qingmei always avoided them, running past with lowered head, never returning a greeting. Even if she did, it was a mosquito-like “mm” with no eye contact.

But now this cheerful, bright-eyed girl was talking and laughing with them—her eyes glistening like they were dipped in lard—so adorable! From today on, the Zhu brothers didn’t envy anyone else’s little sister. They had one too, and she was better than all of them—because she came to them for help!

Lin Xiaqing chuckled to herself. She’d been ranting to them for ages, and they weren’t tired of it at all.

Despite their intimidating build, the Zhu brothers were gentle and kind, thanks to their father’s guidance. Lin Xiaqing marveled at how stupid the original pair had been—too worried about gossip to ask for help from the most obvious allies.

But life is your own to live, and other people’s words don’t feed you. When you’re rootless, you should treasure genuine kindness—not push it away.

Watching the three burly Zhu men march like guardian deities ahead of her, Lin Xiaqing’s eyes gleamed. Yes, she had used their sympathy to her advantage. But that was okay—this was the golden 1980s. She’d pay them back a hundredfold.

Giving help when someone’s already successful means little. Helping them in their darkest hour? That’s everything. The Zhu men had invested in her early—and she’d make sure they reaped the rewards.

—

At the Lin family estate.

Wang Aixian, cooking at the stove, suddenly felt her right eyelid twitch violently.

She shouted, “Shumei, turn the flame down! Are you trying to smoke your mother to death?”

Lin Shumei rushed to lower the fire and ended up burning herself, raising a painful blister.

Wang Aixian scolded her useless daughter, smeared canola oil on the blister, then grumbled, “Why hasn’t Qianghua come to pick you up yet? Every couple fights, but if you keep running back to your parents, people will think I didn’t raise you right.”

Lin Shumei snapped, “Is Brother and Sister-in-law gossiping again? If I hadn’t married into the Wang family for your sake, Brother wouldn’t even have a wife. Now I’m back for just three days and they’re already talking behind my back!”

Wang Aixian didn’t respond, but she pinched the blister hard, making her daughter scream.

“You’re so biased, Mom!” Shumei cried. “You dote on Brother because he’s a man, on Sister because she’s successful—but me? I’m the forever-neglected middle child, the servant girl stuck stoking your fires!”

Truth be told, Wang Aixian didn’t dare offend Shumei too much. Her son was henpecked and forgetful. Her daughter-in-law was all sweetness on the outside but lazy and cunning on the inside—if she wanted her son to support her in old age, she’d be at the mercy of that woman. Only Shumei, who lived nearby, could realistically take care of her.

Her youngest, Lin Shurong, was her pride and joy—the only child she had with her current husband, Old Man Lin. Shurong had made it to university and landed a great job at the county power bureau, even attracting the attention of a high-ranking official’s son.

This was Wang Aixian’s golden ticket. She wouldn’t ask to move into the county, but Shurong would bring the rest of the family into prosperity—that was the plan.

Shumei bitterly recalled the days when she came home to hot meals and no chores—because the two “dead weight” women had done everything. Now she was doing the cooking and cleaning herself.

“Mom, you’re an idiot,” she muttered. “Those two were perfect laborers. You should’ve kept them. All they needed was scraps to keep going.”

Wang Aixian rolled her eyes. “Your cousin is twenty-five and still single. Should he get married in our room if we kept those two?”

Shumei didn’t dare suggest giving up her younger sister’s room. Everyone knew that was off-limits—even her beloved grandson couldn’t step foot in there.

“I wonder where Sister-in-law and Nephew took that little tramp,” Shumei sneered. “If they sold her off for cash, that’d be the least she could do to repay us for raising her.”

At that moment, Lin Xiaqing entered the courtyard with the three Zhu men, having heard everything from outside the kitchen.

She was amused and furious.

What kindness had the Lin family shown the mother and daughter? Before they were kicked out, they’d done all the chores from dawn to dusk—basically unpaid labor.

And they had the nerve to call it “repaying kindness”?

That “kindness” was them eating white rice while she and her mother had to drink gruel mixed with sand. It was being starved until she had to survive on greasy water—and being beaten so badly on New Year’s Eve she couldn’t get out of bed for ten days.

Some people were truly shameless.

And then Wang Aixian topped it all: “That money-losing thing—selling her even cost us five train tickets! We sent three people, came back with two!”

She stretched out five fingers dramatically, groaning, “Five tickets!”

Outside the door—

Zhu Er could take no more. He kicked the kitchen door open, face stormy, skin flushed dark like leopard fur, and roared:

“Wang Aixian! You sure have been real kind to their mother and daughter, haven’t you?!”