Chapter 401: Retort – Daily Gossip in the Sickly Aunt’s Courtyard

**Chapter 401: Snapping Back—The Sickly Auntie’s Daily Drama in the Compound**

Wang Qiaomei had just returned home. As soon as she stepped inside, she noticed how eerily quiet the house was. When she entered the inner room, her temper flared.

The man was still dead to the world, snoring like a log—what time was it already?

Even that lazy invalid next door was up, yet Zhou Qin, a grown man, was still asleep. The more Wang Qiaomei thought about it, the angrier she got. She marched over and yanked his ear.

“Ow! That hurts!” Zhou Qin screeched as he shot awake.

“You bitch! What the hell are you doing?”

“Sleeping, sleeping, sleeping—don’t you know what time it is by now?”

Zhou Qin scowled. Was it his fault he’d slept so late? Not his fault this damn woman couldn’t get enough last night.

“What do you care if I’m up or not?” he snapped back, his voice rising.

Wang Qiaomei glared at his pig-like face, disgust flickering in her eyes. If she hadn’t been forced into this, would she really have stooped so low…?

…

Their shouting woke up Old Master Zhou next door.

He glanced out the window and saw how high the sun had climbed—it was already late. He threw himself together quickly and got up.

After splashing his face awake, he stepped outside just in time to catch Wang Qiaomei storming off from their fight.

“Where’s Auntie Bai?” he asked.

Wang Qiaomei gave a subtle eye-roll. How should *she* know where that hag went?

“How should I know? She left early this morning—I bet she’s off pampering her daughter again,” Wang Qiaomei said casually, slipping in a barb.

A trace of displeasure flickered across Old Master Zhou’s face, but he merely furrowed his brow briefly before smoothing it over. “What kind of talk is that? It’s only natural for her to bring something to her own daughter.”

Wang Qiaomei curled her lip. Yeah, right—as if she believed that nonsense.

“Whatever. Just go make lunch already. I’m starving to death.”

She didn’t argue further. Lifting the lid, she saw their untouched breakfast still sitting there. With no intention of cooking anything extra, she simply steamed a couple more corn-and-wheat buns, stir-fried some pickled vegetables, and added a cabbage dish. A simple lunch was ready.

Auntie Zhou returned around noon, only to find lunch already finished. Wang Qiaomei was washing dishes in the yard.

“Wang Qiaomei, where’s my lunch?”

“You were visiting your daughter. Didn’t she feed you?” Wang Qiaomei shot back sarcastically.

“You—you can’t say that! Her family’s barely scraping by. If I stayed for a meal, I’d be nothing but a burden!”

Wang Qiaomei rolled her eyes openly this time. “Who isn’t struggling? You brought a basket packed with goods over there. For her not to even offer you a bite? Pretty damn stingy, don’t you think?”

“And what about you? Didn’t you take a basket back to your folks’ place? How come you had the nerve to come back here and eat?”

“Oh, well, I came back early, didn’t I?” she snapped. “Since I made lunch, I figured I’ve earned the right to eat.”

“You—you—!” Auntie Zhou sputtered, hopping mad.

“Auntie Bai, our household rations are tight. If you keep giving things to your daughter, there won’t be enough left for you,” Wang Qiaomei said, turning with the basin in hand. As she turned, she caught sight of her father-in-law watching from the window. A sneaky thought crossed her mind—time for another underhanded remark.

Auntie Zhou was shaking with anger.

Wang Qiaomei swayed gracefully as she carried the basin back home.

Still fuming, Auntie Zhou’s stomach growled with hunger. She went into the kitchen to make herself a simple lunch.

Eldest Master Zhou's voice cut in beside her: “Since you married into this family, stop constantly trying to support your daughter. It makes no sense—your own daughter doesn’t even look after you, yet you still go out of your way to help her. After all, we’re not exactly well-off either.”

Auntie Zhou’s eyes welled up instantly. “You… how could you say that too?”

“I agree with our daughter-in-law,” Eldest Master Zhou replied, ignoring her emotions and continuing matter-of-factly. “We’re both trying hard for a baby. If we finally have a child and you keep acting like this, how will we afford to raise it?”

Auntie Zhou froze, her lips trembling as if to protest. But seeing his expression, she could only murmur, “…I understand.”

“Alright then, hurry up and eat something. Don’t starve yourself. How can you bear me a son if you neglect your health?” With that, Eldest Master Zhou turned and walked back to his room.

Auntie Zhou stared at his retreating figure, curling her fingers into tight fists before glancing down at her stomach.

Why was it so stubborn? Nearly two years had passed, and there was still no sign of pregnancy. She’d taken all the medicine—why wasn’t it working?

Lin Qing, watching from her own home, had just witnessed the entire argument. Tsk tsk, Wang Qiaomei had Auntie Zhou completely under her thumb!

The mother-in-law and daughter-in-law relationships here were all over the map. There was Mother Gu, who completely dominated her daughter-in-law; then there was Mother Jiang, locked in an equal battle with hers; next came Auntie Zhou, clearly outmatched by her daughter-in-law; and finally, the relatively harmonious pair, Mother Li and Mother Sui…

She counted her blessings living with her own mother, free from all these problems.

Even though her mother-in-law doted on her like a daughter, familiarity breeds contempt—who knew what conflicts might arise if they lived together too long?

“Ahh~” Lin Qing yawned, feeling drowsy.

Seeing this, her mother urged her, “Go take a nap first!”

Lin Qing sat blankly for a moment. She really was exhausted, but she had been stubbornly staying up, waiting to see what kind of reaction would happen when Wang Qiaomei and Jin Jianhua, those old flames, finally met.

God knows she’d waited forever, yet still hadn’t seen them reunite. It suddenly reminded her of how, when she first married in, she hadn’t seen her nephew-in-law Jiang Yang for days.

Was history repeating itself?

Lin Qing shook her head. Surely not, right?

Even if they didn’t meet today, they’d have to face each other tomorrow at work.

“Go to bed already—you’re practically sleepwalking!” Her mother teased.

Her father chuckled beside her. “Yes, Nuan’nuan, off to bed if you’re tired.”

Lin Qing looked at them. She really couldn’t hold on any longer—might as well nap for a bit.

“Mom, I’ll go sleep for a while. Wake me in an hour, alright?” She blinked her bleary eyes.

“Fine, fine, go on, go on!” Honestly, dead on her feet but still craving gossip.

Seeing her mother agree, Lin Qing staggered sleepily into the bedroom.

Her father followed closely behind, worried she’d trip. Her mother watched the father-daughter duo and smirked.

When he came back out and saw her smiling, he flustered slightly and muttered, “Just making sure she doesn’t take a tumble.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

Uncomfortable, he scratched his nose and sat back down beside her, helping her fiddle with the matchboxes.

Her mother had picked up this side gig to kill time. There was no rush—she worked on them whenever she had downtime, and handed in however many she finished at the end of each month.