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Luo Jinping.
The name rang a bell—Lin Wanjun remembered it from the original plot. He was the vicious female supporting character’s lover.
Looking at the man before her, whose appearance rivaled that of Wu Dalang, Lin Wanjun felt a wave of nausea.
Just how much did the original author hate the vicious female supporting character? They didn’t care about plot logic at all, and still insisted on pairing her with a toad like this.
The vicious female supporting character was, after all, a stunning beauty with a double-S figure!
And yet, instead of choosing the tall, handsome, broad-shouldered young master from a military family, she supposedly fell for a hideous wretch like this. Tell me—does that make any sense?
Looking from Luo Jinping’s pockmarked, tragic-looking face to his height—identical to Dong Yingying’s—and then to his gas-can-shaped body, Lin Wanjun almost laughed out of sheer exasperation.
In the original story, the vicious female supporting character had been head-over-heels for Luo Jinping, so much so that she was deceived until she was left with nothing—not even a single bitter seed.
I mean, seriously—how could she bring herself to touch a man like Luo Jinping?
What was the appeal? Could it be that Luo Jinping possessed some secret, extraordinary “talent” unknown to outsiders?
Dong Yingying urged Luo Jinping, “Repeat what you just said!”
With greedy eyes fixed on Lin Wanjun, Luo Jinping said, “Zhaodi, after you left my house, I was worried about you, so I followed to check on you.”
Then, as if making up his mind, Luo Jinping declared, “Zhaodi, get a divorce. Don’t stay in the Song family and suffer anymore. I’ll take care of you!”
Take care of your damn mother!
Lin Wanjun put away her umbrella and swung it hard at Luo Jinping’s face—pitted and cratered like the surface of the moon—without the slightest trace of mercy.
“Go take a leak and look at yourself! No matter how stupid or undiscerning I might be, I wouldn’t stoop to putting my mouth on a toad. I’m afraid I’d get poisoned!”
Song Zhanjin couldn’t hold back a chuckle and pressed his lips together to keep from laughing.
Lin Wanjun spun around and glared at him, barking out viciously,
“Laugh, laugh, laugh—what the hell are you laughing at? Your wife just got smeared with a filthy rumor, you were this close to wearing a grassland’s worth of green on your head, and you can still laugh?”
Dong Yingying also spoke up anxiously, “Zhanjin, have you lost your mind? Lin Zhaodi was fooling around with another man—she betrayed you! How can you still laugh?”
Song Zhanjin truly didn’t know what to say to that.
If the man standing in front of him were handsome as Pan An or filthy rich, then maybe there’d be some tiny chance that Lin Wanjun had strayed. But this…
From what he’d learned about Lin Wanjun over the past two months, this sharp-tongued, quick-witted woman who never let herself suffer a loss—could she possibly take a bite of dog shit?
No. Absolutely not.
Lin Wanjun stepped right up to Luo Jinping, even towering over him by half a head.
“What did you just say? That I left your house?”
Luo Jinping’s scalp prickled under her stare, his heart thumping uneasily.
Not long ago, he’d heard Lin Yaozu complain that his “brother-obsessed” sister had completely changed after getting married—like she’d been possessed—her personality turning so fierce it was frightening.
At first, he hadn’t believed it. After all, he’d always had a bit of a flirtatious rapport with Lin’s second daughter. Nothing explicit, nothing physical, but the undercurrent was there.
Yesterday, after learning the Song family’s address from Lin Yaozu, he’d decided to sneak over under cover of night to get a look at the situation. Who knew he’d run into Dong Yingying instead.
He was asked what he did for a living, then whether he was the Song family’s daughter-in-law’s lover. Brazenly, he nodded and admitted it.
Dong Yingying pressed further—had the Song family’s daughter-in-law gone out tonight to meet him in secret? He admitted to that as well.
Who cared whether it was true or not? Sling the mud first—maybe she could even get a windfall out of it.
Lin Wanjun looked at the ugly creature before her and thought of how, in the original storyline, the vicious supporting female character had been swindled out of both money and her body by just such a hideous man, ending up without even a grave to be buried in. She was… speechless.
What on earth had the original author been thinking? Could anyone honestly call this plot reasonable?
“Yes, of course. Did you forget? The moment you walked in the door, you threw yourself into my arms, kissed me, and said you couldn’t bear to part from me—that you wanted us to fly away together.”
“I warned you not to be impulsive, given that you already had a man. But you said your man was inferior to me in every way, and that in this lifetime, you only wanted to be my woman.”
Lin Wanjun was so angry she laughed. Fine—this mangy dog really was a shameless, delusional narcissist, daring to spew such nonsense.
“With looks that could shock the heavens and make ghosts weep, yet I’m still hopelessly devoted to you… you must have some special talent, right?”
Her gaze swept over a certain part of Luo Jinping, and she covered her mouth in a laugh.
Delighted, Luo Jinping deliberately raised his voice. “Exactly! Isn’t this what you like? You were more than satisfied.”
Dong Yingying turned to look at Song Zhanjin.
“Zhanjin, did you hear that? They’re a pair of shameless adulterers! You must take my advice—divorce her, cut ties completely, and don’t believe a single word she says!”
Song Zhanjin’s eyes stayed fixed on Lin Wanjun’s back, his expression dark.
Yes, he was angry—but not because of any suspicion that Lin Wanjun was cheating. What angered him was that a young woman could be so brazen, speaking such indecent words without a shred of shame.
All that talk about lengths and sizes—what utter nonsense!
Lin Wanjun gave a mocking laugh, turned, and hooked her arm through Song Zhanjin’s, her beauty blooming like a flower.
“My husband is a soldier, and in every way he crushes you. You, with that toothpick of yours… really not up to par!”
The corners of both Luo Jinping’s and Song Zhanjin’s mouths twitched, while Dong Yingying stood there, dumbstruck.
What—what kind of approach was this?
Shouldn’t Lin Wanjun be using every ounce of effort to argue and clear her name right now? Why was she… why was she spewing such bold, suggestive words instead?
An odd, bitter taste crept into Dong Yingying’s heart.
Just how alluring was this woman, that Song Zhanjin could be so addicted to her, unable to let go?
Yet in their previous life, he hadn’t even touched her hand.
Fearing that Lin Wanjun might say something even more outrageous, Song Zhanjin pulled her into his arms.
“Enough nonsense. You go back first—I’ll handle things here.”
At those words, Dong Yingying’s face changed in urgency.
“Zhanjin, why are you still protecting her? I went to her elder sister’s house—she never went back there. She’s lying to you all. You can’t believe a word she says!”
Lin Wanjun gave a derisive laugh.
“You can’t trust my words, but you can trust this toad’s? Dong Yingying, use that pig brain of yours and think it through. Stop believing every rumor you hear, always plotting to frame me!”
“And another thing—I advise you to stay far away from the Song family. Even if you’re not afraid of dying, at least think of your family. How old are your younger siblings? Do you really want to drag them down with you?”
Dong Yingying froze, unable to utter a reply.
Meanwhile, Luo Jinping was still running his mouth, spewing filth that was unbearable to hear.
“Hey, Song—your wife has a mole on her waist, doesn’t she? Guess how I know that?”
With a lewd grin, Luo Jinping waggled his eyebrows. “I didn’t just look at it, I touched it… even kissed—ah! Who the hell hit me?!”
Before he could finish, a sharp pain exploded at the back of his head. He reached up to touch it—his hand came away smeared with blood.
Lin Wanjun, too, was staring in shock.
Under the night sky stood someone who shouldn’t have been there—her eldest sister, Lin Pandi—right behind Luo Jinping, gripping half a bloodstained green brick.
“Dare to ruin my sister’s reputation, and I’ll beat you to death!”
She was soaked through from the rain, her wet hair plastered to her face. The weathered, timeworn look she wore made it hard to believe she was only twenty-six.
Lin Pandi stepped up to Lin Wanjun and shoved a still-warm cloth pouch into her arms.
“There are boiled eggs and flatbreads in here—eat them on the road.”
With calloused hands, she gently touched Lin Wanjun’s face, then pulled fifty yuan from her pocket and tucked it into her arms as well.
“I have hands and feet to earn money—why are you giving me money? Keep it. When you get over there, you’ll still need to set up a home and make a living.”
Before Lin Wanjun could speak, Lin Pandi walked up to Song Zhanjin and pulled out the handkerchief that had been wrapped around the money.
“My sister really did come to my place tonight, and she left me fifty yuan. The bills may not have any markings, but this handkerchief—you recognize it, don’t you?”