Chapter 142

Chapter 142

Huang Xiaoying was half-asleep when she heard the commotion. She rushed out, her hair a mess, and grabbed the money order.

She grinned foolishly when she saw the sender’s name.

It was from "Zhiyin Magazine," with a remittance amount of 1,200 yuan.

Huang Xiaoying’s eyes widened in disbelief. She rubbed her eyes hard, unable to believe the number she was seeing.

The postman, getting impatient, urged, "Hurry up and get your ID to sign for it."

Xu Meng came to her senses and dashed back inside to fetch the ID.

When submitting the manuscript, Huang Xiaoying had considered the remittance issue and used Xu Meng’s name, as she didn’t even have an ID or household register when she first left home. Xu Meng had teased her at the time—"You’re quite thorough with your planning."

*Zhiyin* was Huang Xiaoying’s favorite magazine, and she had submitted her story to them. She never expected her first submission to get a response.

1,200 yuan—that was several months’ salary for many people. Even Xu Meng clicked her tongue in amazement. The pay for writing in the 1990s was really high.

Huang Xiaoying’s short story was barely 2,000 words, yet it earned her 1,200 yuan.

Xu Meng was thrilled for her: "You’re amazing! I always saw you renting books to read, but I never thought you’d actually make money from it."

*Zhiyin* was one of the highest-circulation magazines at the time.

Holding the money order, Huang Xiaoying was dazed. She had written and submitted the story without much thought.

"I have to tell Auntie," she said.

"Go ahead. Mom will be overjoyed."

The two sisters were still living in the courtyard with the older kids, while Feng Yanwen stayed in Old Lady Huang’s house nearby, just a stone's throw away, separated by a few households.

But the moment Huang Xiaoying opened the gate, she froze. Then, like she’d seen a ghost, she bolted back and hid behind Xu Meng.

Xu Meng turned her head and saw Feng Yanzi standing at the gate, just as shocked.

Then, in a flash, Feng Yanzi flew into a rage and charged forward, grabbing Huang Xiaoying by the ear. "You wretched girl! Someone told me they saw you on TV—otherwise, I wouldn’t even know you were hiding here! You ran away without a word, with me worrying myself sick at home for over half a year! What were you thinking? Do you even care about me?"

Xu Meng quickly tried to pull them apart, and Huang Xiaoying struggled, plunging the scene into chaos.

The kids, who had been sleeping inside, rushed out. The youngest started wailing in terror, the second child, thinking a madwoman had arrived, gallantly charged forward and bit Feng Yanzi’s arm, while the oldest reacted swiftly, shouting, "I’ll go get help!" before sprinting away.

Feng Yanzi, fueled by fury, wrenched Huang Xiaoying’s ear viciously.

Huang Xiaoying cried out, "My ear’s going to fall off! It really is!"

But Feng Yanzi, too enraged to listen, rained slaps on Huang Xiaoying’s face while cursing in their local dialect.

The commotion quickly drew neighbors. Yang Sanshu was the first to arrive. She had been making breakfast when she heard the commotion. When she came out, she saw Huang Xiaoying getting beaten up—her ear bleeding, her face scratched and swollen, her hair a mess.

At first, Yang Sanshu thought it was a wife catching her husband's mistress.

But then she realized—Huang Xiaoying was too naive, almost childlike. She wouldn’t be involved in such affairs.

Yang Sanshu rushed over and dragged Feng Yanzi off. As a masseuse, she was stronger than most and managed to restrain her.

"What’s wrong with you? How can you just start hitting someone like that?" Yang Sanshu, though quick-tempered herself, rarely saw such violence. Changchun Alley was a civilized community—domestic violence was rare, and even when they happened, they never escalated to this level. By now, Huang Xiaoying was a complete wreck—her hair torn loose, one ear bleeding, her face scratched and swollen. She looked utterly wretched.

Xu Meng stomped her feet and shouted, "Are you crazy!"

Feng Yanzi, eagle-eyed, immediately spotted the money order in her daughter's hand and snatched it away, her eyes locked onto the number.

1,200 yuan (about $170)—her eyes gleamed with greed.

"You selfish brat! You have money and don’t send it home? Living large out here, huh? You have no idea how we’ve been struggling at home! Your brother was taken in by your grandma, and I’ve been breaking my back in the fields day and night. And here you are, living the high life in the city, aren’t you?"

Xu Meng said, "Why’d you grab my money order?"

She wanted to snatch it back but feared Feng Yanzi wouldn’t let go. Glaring fiercely, she held out her hand and said, "Look carefully. That money is mine. She was just keeping it safe for me. Give it back."

Feng Yanzi was ruthless but no fool. She had overheard the sisters talking earlier. Huang Xiaoying had always loved writing and drawing since childhood, acing her essays and dreaming of becoming a writer. Xu Meng, though academically strong, had never shown exceptional talent in writing.

"You little con artist, don’t think you can fool me! You left home without your ID papers, so you must’ve used Xu Meng’s name for the submission!"

As Feng Yanzi finished speaking, Yang Sanshu and the others put two and two together, realizing the woman’s relationship with Huang Xiaoying.

Yang Sanshu helped Huang Xiaoying sit on a chair in the yard, first fetching water to clean her face. One side of her face was red and swollen, while her ear had a torn wound, bleeding badly.

The sight was both shocking and heartbreaking.

Yet Feng Yanzi pulled the victim card first, wailing and beating her chest, "This wretched girl ran away without a word! The village has been gossiping nonstop. It’s not that I don’t care for her—we have a small farm to tend and a house full of younger siblings. She complains about every little chore! Sisters, you’re parents too. If I hadn’t seen her on TV, I wouldn’t have known she was hiding at my sister’s place! Living like a queen in the city while I suffer—look what you’ve reduced me to!"

She sounded pitiful and looked the part.

Only five or six years older than Feng Yanwen, she looked decades older.

Her words had the other parents present tearing up.

Several women Feng Yanzi’s age began giving Huang Xiaoying the stink eye.

Yang Sanshu, after washing Huang Xiaoying’s face and tucking back her disheveled hair, revealed the girl’s scratched and swollen face to the crowd: "Poor you? Is that how you mother your kid? Look at her face—what have you done? Her ear’s nearly torn off! When I first heard the commotion, I thought it was some wife catching her man’s side piece! Does this look like a mother who missed her child after half a year apart?"

The crowd turned their gazes back to Feng Yanzi.

Xu Meng sighed. It seemed most people were easily swayed.

Yang Sanshu said, "Xu Meng, go find some merthiolate. I need to treat her ear. Xiaoying?"

Huang Xiaoying’s head was still spinning from her mother’s beating. It took several calls before she reacted, her gaze unfocused when she looked at Yang Sanshu.

Feng Yanzi sneered, "Still pretending? Don’t think I don’t know your tricks! Faking misery while living luxe—running off to the capital! You heartless brat, not caring how your family suffers!"

Just then, Xu Meng returned with merthiolate, dabbing the wound with a cotton swab and wiping away blood with gauze.

Xu Meng snapped, "You’re struggling? What does that have to do with her? Did anyone force you to have five or six kids? Is it the eldest’s duty to raise them? She’s only sixteen—is she supposed to support your family? What kind of life did she have at home? Was there a single day she didn’t work for you? You chose to have so many kids—they weren’t born for her! Why should she raise them? She’s been your little laborer since childhood, working for sixteen years just to eat. She’s paid her dues!"

But the older generation didn’t understand. To them, the eldest must always support the younger siblings.

Sucking her blood, eating her flesh, sacrificing her life to repay her parents.

"I gave you life—you owe me forever."

Even someone as formidable as Nezha had to slice his flesh for his mother and carve his bones for his father.

Feng Yanzi’s mindset mirrored that of many parents present: "If I’m still suffering, how dare my child live well?"

Several mothers who sympathized with Feng Yanzi immediately began earnestly advising her, saying things like "be obedient" and "honor your parents," and so on.

Yang Sanshu scolded, "Bullshit! Only shameless people spout such rubbish, exploiting a child. As if you're the only ones with mouths! You raise kids like chickens or pigs, waiting to slaughter them once they're grown, huh? I don’t treat my children like that. No matter how many I have, I raise them myself."

If anyone else had said this, it might not have carried much weight, but Yang Sanshu truly had a whole bunch of kids, all raised by her own hands.

Not only did she raise her own children, but when Zhao Shan’s parents still lived here, she also supported them. Times were hard, but she never demanded anything from her kids.

She bore them, and she raised them.

Feng Yanzi just cried, putting on a pitiful act.

Soon, Feng Yanwen arrived. The moment she saw Huang Xiaoying’s battered state, she saw red: "Can we at least talk this out like adults?"

Once the others left, Feng Yanzi stopped pretending. She knew her sister was doing well financially now.

Otherwise, she wouldn’t have hidden Huang Xiaoying here for over half a year without batting an eye.

After the neighbors left, Xu Meng and Huang Xiaoying tried to leave too, but Feng Yanwen spoke sternly: "You two stay. What I have to say to your aunt isn’t something others can’t hear. Now that there are no outsiders, spit it out."

Feng Yanzi declared, "Huang Xiaoying is coming home with me today."

Feng Yanwen asked, "And then?"

Feng Yanzi, squirming a little, continued, "I won’t make you work in the south anymore, but you must come back. You know how things are at home—I can’t handle it alone."

Having six children had set her back a good ten years of work, and her health wasn’t what it used to be.

The second child was spoiled to the core and barely did chores. The third was cunning, the fourth a little slow on the uptake, and the fifth too young to judge. Now that the second and third were old enough to work, the second refused, and Feng Yanzi wouldn’t force her. The third was an expert at dodging work. Since Huang Xiaoying left, Feng Yanzi had been left holding the bag—she realized the family could manage without anyone except the eldest.

The eldest was a stronger laborer than even her.

Huang Xiaoying, now recovering, looked at Feng Yanwen in fear.

Feng Yanwen said firmly, "This isn’t up for debate. Huang Xiaoying is an adult now. Where she stays is her own choice, and we should respect that."

Respect? What nonsense! Feng Yanzi instinctively thought. The eldest was now a workhorse—a pig she’d raised for sixteen years, only for someone else to slaughter it. It felt like getting shafted. Without thinking, she shot back, "Respect? I respect her, but who respects me? Feng Yanwen, don’t think just because you’re in the city now, you can look down on us country bumpkins. Our ancestors, and theirs before them, all lived this way. Didn’t I take care of you and our brother when we were young?"

Realizing her tone was too harsh, she softened it: "Xiaoying, you’re still young. The outside world might turn your head, but look at me—have some pity. Look at my hands."

She held out her hands, covered in calluses and scars. Even in summer, deep cracks split her skin, revealing pink flesh underneath.

Girls are tender-hearted. Though still dazed from her mother’s beating, Huang Xiaoying’s gaze wavered. Then Feng Yanzi whispered, "You’re living well now, but can you bear to let the whole family suffer? Do you know what your comfort costs us? It’s bought with our hardship. You’re not like others—you’re a farmer’s child. The city’s no place for you. I beg you, come home with me. We can’t stay away forever, can we?"

After all, this was the mother who raised her. No matter how hardened Huang Xiaoying’s heart was, she was still just a sixteen-year-old.

Children have an innate urge to please their parents.

As a child, a little extra work earned her mother’s praise, so she’d do much more willingly.

As she grew older, such coaxing wasn’t needed—chores became her unspoken duty.

Feng Yanzi’s words worked on Huang Xiaoying like magic. She gazed at her mother, searching for any love for her siblings in those eyes.

Xu Meng suddenly barked, "Huang Xiaoying, what are you doing?"

Huang Xiaoying jolted out of it.