After breakfast, the men of the Xue family headed out to the fields.

Xue Qingshan also left the house, though not to work the land—instead, he went into town. Word had it that a classmate of his was hosting a grand birthday celebration for an elder in the family.

It was peak farming season now, so very few students were attending the village school. That was how things worked in the countryside: every year during spring and autumn planting, the village school would go on break, allowing the children to help at home. So lately, Xue Qingshan had plenty of free time. Whether he went out or stayed in, no one really questioned it. When school was out, he’d often disappear for days.

Zhao’er washed the bowls and chopsticks she and the boy had used, then brought them back to the kitchen. Mrs. Zhou was boiling pig slop, while Tao’er was sweeping the courtyard. Seeing that there wasn’t anything she needed to help with, Zhao’er fetched Heizi’s food bowl. From the leftovers meant to be mixed into the pig feed, she scooped out a bowlful and carried it toward the gate.

Mrs. Zhou glanced at her retreating figure but said nothing.

In the countryside, that was just how dogs were fed. When the family ate dry food, the dog got porridge. But when the family themselves were eating porridge, the dog often had to go hungry. Farm dogs were used to it. But Zhao’er doted on Heizi—whether the food was good or bad, she always made sure he got a full belly.

Sometimes she even gave him treats—but only when no one was watching.

Unfortunately, Old Mrs. Zhao had seen it. Once again, she caught Zhao’er scooping food meant for the pigs to feed that dog!

She stomped out of the main house just in time to witness it. Her face darkened immediately. But rather than scolding Zhao’er directly, she stood at the doorway and raised her voice toward the kitchen, yelling loud enough for the whole yard to hear:

“Some people you tell to feed the pigs, and what do they do? They go feeding dogs instead! Grown woman and still useless—eating for free and not worth a damn!”

It was a classic case of cursing the tree to scold the monkey.

In the kitchen, Mrs. Zhou stayed quiet. Tao’er, who was still sweeping, looked up at her grandmother briefly, then lowered her head and kept sweeping. Old Mrs. Zhao hadn’t named names, after all. Who knew who she was really yelling at? Anyone who opened their mouth would just become the new target and get a fresh wave of abuse hurled at them.

This was a lesson everyone had learned the hard way.

Zhao’er had just reached the gate when she heard the shouting. She didn’t back down. Turning with a cheerful smile, she called back to Old Mrs. Zhao, “Grandma, are you scolding Third Aunt? If so, that’s not fair to her. If anyone should be scolded, it’s me. I’m the one who took the leftovers for Heizi. I just thought—Heizi isn’t easy to feed. Every now and then, he drags back a rabbit or two. We can’t expect the ox to plow the field and then forget to feed it, right? Don’t you think so?”

Old Mrs. Zhao glared at her, fuming. She had known that girl was a handful, which was why she’d aimed the scolding at Mrs. Zhou in the first place. But of course Zhao’er had to insert herself and talk back. Just as she opened her mouth to deliver a retort, a few women passed by the courtyard gate. One of them laughed and called out:

“My, the eldest daughter-in-law of the Lianxing family is certainly lively this early in the morning!”

Someone nearby chimed in, “She’s got a point. You can’t expect an ox to work and not feed it.”

“That’s right,” another added. “Come on now, Lianxing’s wife, let it go. That big black dog of yours—who in the village doesn’t like it? Even now, when rabbits are scarce in the wild, it still manages to bring one back. That’s a clever animal. In the summer and fall, how many field mice, wild rabbits, and pheasants has it dragged home? And it never eats them itself—it brings them straight back. If you don’t like Heizi, give him to us! Your Uncle Shouxin’s had his eye on that dog for a while now.”

This “Lianxing’s wife” they kept mentioning was, of course, Old Mrs. Zhao. And the speaker was Old Master Xue’s aunt, known in the village as Aunt Shouxin. Though she was a good ten years younger than Old Mrs. Zhao, her seniority in the family made her of a higher generation.

Yuqing Village had over 200 households, with the Xue and Zheng families being the most prominent surnames. There were also a dozen or so families with other names. Since most villagers shared the same surname, extended kinship was everywhere—some connections stretched beyond five generations. Still, family was family, and if you were of a younger generation, you were expected to show respect. So when Aunt Shouxin spoke, it was with the tone of a senior lecturing the younger folk.

Old Mrs. Zhao was thoroughly stung by the remarks. Sure, she’d just been ranting about that dog, but now that others were openly admiring it and even joking about taking it away, she wasn’t quite ready to part with it. Truth be told, as they’d said, Heizi had brought in plenty of wild game—big or small, fat or lean—it was all meat, and meat didn’t come easily for country folk.

Her face tightened, but she said nothing. Zhao’er, still standing by the gate, chimed in with a playful grin, “Seventh Granny, that won’t do—Heizi’s my precious baby. If you take him away, I’ll have no will to live!”

She said it with a big smile and a teasing tone, making Aunt Shouxin laugh heartily. The older woman pointed a finger at Zhao’er and said to the other women, “Look at this little rascal—she’s got no filter at all! Fine, fine, I won’t take your dog. I wouldn’t want to snatch away your precious lifeline!”

After a round of laughter and banter, Zhao’er cheerfully saw the women off and turned back to feed Heizi.

Old Mrs. Zhao gave her a withering glare, then turned to go back inside. But just as she lifted her foot, someone called out from behind: “Ma, what are you standing around for?”

It was her eldest daughter, Xue Cuiping, just returning home.

Xue Cuiping bore a strong resemblance to her mother—about sixty percent by looks—but she had a pair of striking almond-shaped eyes. She looked to be in her early twenties, dressed in a faded blue floral quilted jacket and wide-legged maroon trousers. In her hand was a bamboo basket covered with cloth, the contents hidden from view. She looked at Old Mrs. Zhao with a puzzled expression.

Speak of the devil! Just moments earlier, Old Master Xue had said they needed someone to run a message to Shangshui Village, and Old Mrs. Zhao had been wondering who to send. Now she didn’t have to worry—Cuiping had come back on her own.

The mother and daughter began chatting as they walked inside, disappearing behind the curtain of the main house.

Meanwhile, Zhao’er squatted beside Heizi, stroking his big furry head while he ate. But her mind wasn’t on the dog—she was quietly wondering why her eldest cousin had returned in the middle of the busy farming season.

“This won’t do, Ma! You’re asking me to be the one everyone points fingers at!”
Inside the main house, Xue Cuiping shot to her feet the moment she heard what Old Mrs. Zhao wanted from her.

Old Mrs. Zhao quickly reached out to pull her back down, gesturing for her to keep her voice down. “Shhh, not so loud—someone might hear!”

“What do you mean it won’t do? You’re Gouzi’s aunt, and you were close with your second brother since childhood. If there’s anyone in this whole house that boy might still listen to, it’s you.”

That part was true. Cuiping had always been close to her second brother, Xue Qingsong. Before she got married, she’d gotten along well with Mrs. Qiu too. When Gouzi was born, she’d often carried him in her arms.

Gouzi had always been quiet and withdrawn. After his parents passed, he grew even more silent and gloomy, sometimes going days—or even weeks—without saying a word. Of all the Xue family, the only one he’d remained close to was his aunt Cuiping.

“But…” Cuiping’s face was full of reluctance. She thought to herself bitterly that she shouldn’t have come back today. She hadn’t even finished her own business at her mother’s house, and now she was being dragged into something like this.

“Don’t forget, your son Xingzi goes to our private school, and your eldest brother’s never asked you for a single coin in school fees. Now that he needs your help, you’re just going to turn away? If Juncai does well, your eldest brother does well—and if the main branch prospers, do you really think they’ll leave you behind?”

“Then why don’t you go talk to Gouzi yourself?” Cuiping shot back.

Old Mrs. Zhao had never been the patient type. The only reason she was speaking gently now was because this was her own daughter. But seeing Cuiping still hemming and hawing—and now even hitting where it hurt—she snapped.

“If I could talk to him myself, would I need you to do it? Me, say those things? And if word of this gets out, what do you think people will say about me?!”

Cuiping was already upset about troubles with her in-laws, and now her own mother was yelling at her. She couldn’t help but flare up in return.

“So everyone in this whole damn family gets to avoid it, and I’m the one who has to be the villain? And if people find out, it’ll be me, the aunt, who’s the heartless one? Second Brother and his wife are both dead, and you expect me to go pressure their orphaned child?”

When her daughter raised her voice, Old Mrs. Zhao quickly yanked her back down and scolded in a harsh whisper, “What, you want the whole village to hear us?”

Xue Cuiping didn’t want to fall out with her mother, but she muttered resentfully, “If you ask me, this isn’t something you or Father should be meddling in. If it’s the eldest brother’s business, then let him or his wife handle it. They keep their hands clean while dumping all the dirty work on others—how is that fair?”

“Don’t you bring your eldest brother into this. He’s a scholar. He’s got a reputation to maintain, and he values propriety. And besides, he still feels guilty over what happened with your second brother—he couldn’t bring himself to do such a thing.”

Cuiping opened her mouth, then closed it again, swallowing back the words she really wanted to say.

Guilty? If he really felt guilty, would things have come to this? Over the years, she’d come to see her eldest brother for who he truly was. If her sister-in-law was all smiles on the surface but sharp underneath, then her brother was no better—he always got others to do the dirty work while his family played innocent, even as they reaped all the benefits.

But what could she do? She was a married woman now, and her opinions held no sway. Her parents’ favoritism toward the eldest brother ran deep. Until that changed, the eldest son’s branch would always come first.

And she had her own troubles—her own helplessness. Even if she saw what was happening, she could only turn a blind eye and keep her mouth shut.

Brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear, she changed the subject. “Ma, let’s talk about something else. I actually came home this time to borrow some wheat seed. You know how sick my mother-in-law’s been. Last year, we used everything we had to pay for her medicine, and we didn’t manage to save any seed…”

But before she could finish, Old Mrs. Zhao cut her off sharply.

“Borrow wheat seed again? What do you think we are—a bottomless treasure chest? The Liu family’s got a house full of sons, and it’s you, the daughter-in-law, who comes crawling back here to take from us?!”

“Ma…” Cuiping started, her voice breaking.

Old Mrs. Zhao’s temper flared. “Those good-for-nothing sons of the Liu family—useless, the whole lot of them. A pack of misfortunes, can’t even afford to feed their own women…” Seeing Cuiping start to cry, Old Mrs. Zhao smacked her twice again, this time with frustration rather than fury. “Go handle that business with Gouzi. Do that, and I’ll give you the seed.”

“Ma…” Cuiping said weakly, tears slipping down her face.

“Go! Don’t dawdle.”

Back in the side room, when Gouzi heard that his eldest aunt had returned, a strange sense of inevitability settled over him.

Later, when Xue Cuiping lifted the curtain and walked in with a smile, Xue Gouzi was surprised to find he didn’t feel even a trace of sadness.

Though she was speaking to him, he wasn’t really listening. His mind was caught up in the strange parallels between his dream and reality.

Back then, Xue Tingrang had gone through the exact same thing. Ever since his parents passed away one after another, a seed of resentment had grown in his heart toward the rest of the Xue family. That resentment only deepened over time—fueled by the eldest branch’s hypocrisy and the rest of the family’s silent complicity.

He’d still held on to a sliver of hope—until even the aunt he was closest to took the other side. That moment had broken him. The silence he’d clung to for so long finally shattered, and he exploded.

In truth, that explosion was exactly what the eldest branch—and the rest of the family—had been waiting for. As long as he was the one to speak up first, they could pile all the blame on him. He never stood a chance. Surrounded by elders and bound by filial piety, his rage and frustration had been snuffed out before they could ever take shape.

Now that it was happening all over again… what should he do?

Xue Cuiping’s lips moved incessantly, words pouring from a mouth that clearly held some measure of guilt. She looked uneasy, standing in front of this pale and frail nephew. But whatever guilt she carried was hidden behind her steady stream of words.

Gouzi’s gaze remained calm and distant—but someone beside him could no longer hold back.

Zhao’er’s face had gone pale, her expression tight with anger barely restrained. Still, she forced a smile. “Auntie, you can see Gouzi’s just getting better. He’s still weak and hasn’t really regained his strength. If there’s something important to say, maybe it’s best to leave it for another day.”

Zhao’er had long known this day would come—why else would she have been so desperate to earn money lately? But when the slow, creeping malice from one’s own family came pressing in, when it was him they were cornering—her little man—she couldn’t just stand by and watch.

She knew all too well that it was those closest to you who could hurt you the most. She’d lived that pain. When his mother passed, she had made a promise—to protect this boy no matter what. She had sworn it.

And now, her eyes glinted with something sharp, something feral—like a mother beast on the verge of lashing out.

The look startled Xue Cuiping. She instinctively shook her head, forcing a nervous laugh. She couldn’t quite believe a young girl could have such a frightening gaze.

“Zhao’er, Auntie’s just trying to reason with Gouzi. It’s for his own good—for the good of the whole family…”

“Auntie.”

Suddenly, Xue Gouzi spoke.

His voice cut through Cuiping’s explanation and halted Zhao’er right at the edge of her breaking point.

Cuiping turned toward him at once, trying to regain her footing. “Gouzi, Auntie just wants to say…”

“Big Aunt, I don’t really understand what you’re saying—putting the family first, letting brother take the bigger share like Kong Rong offering the smallest pear… What exactly am I supposed to give up for Big Brother?”

“You say I should give way because he needs it—but Aunt, don’t you see? Big Brother already has everything. Grandpa and Grandma love him, so do Uncle and Aunt. Every time they buy writing supplies, they always pick the best for him. When he practices his calligraphy, he uses fine paper. Me? I can only use a twig to write in the dirt. The few times I used paper, it was the cheapest kind Zhao’er bought for me—ink bleeds right through it.”

“He has shelves full of books. I only have one—The Enlightened Garden of Learning. And even that, my father had to work as a carpenter for months just to afford. I know I’m not as good at studying as he is. My writing isn’t as neat. So I never dared to ask for the same treatment. I don’t have anything—what exactly is there for me to yield?”

Xue Gouzi’s eyes glistened with emotion—pure confusion and innocence layered with envy and deep-seated insecurity. That look of quiet hurt, set into his pale, thin face—still gaunt from illness—made it impossible not to feel a stab of pain. It was the kind of sorrow that tugged at your heart and left a bitter taste in your throat.

Xue Cuiping was rendered speechless. Her chest tightened with guilt. She was torn between shame and helplessness, feeling as though she had no right to face her second brother and sister-in-law, even in death.

But the reality of their family’s crisis loomed over her. Spring sowing was about to begin. Without seeds, the wheat wouldn’t sprout. If they missed the season, the entire household—young and old—would go hungry.

Steeling herself, she licked her lips and forced herself to speak. “Auntie’s only talking about the matter of the academy in town. You see, your cousin Juncai is doing really well in his studies, and this is a crucial moment for him. As his younger brother, maybe you could give in just this once. You’re younger by a year—waiting until next year won’t hurt you.”

Zhao’er spun around abruptly and grabbed the stick behind the door.

But before she could act, Xue Gouzi spoke again.

“Why should I give in? Wasn’t it originally promised to me? Was it Uncle who sent you here? Has he forgotten what he said to my father before he died? So all that talk about treating me like his own son—was it just a lie?”

=^_^=