Cheng Nuo was not annoyed, saying, "The son-in-law has returned."
Meng Nanzhou detested anyone mentioning his status as a live-in son-in-law, let alone hearing it from Cheng Siniang, whom he looked down upon. True to form, his expression darkened further.
The villagers who had been hoping to curry favor saw Meng Nanzhou’s sour mood. Fearing they might trigger bad luck or annoy this newly minted person of status, they hurriedly made excuses and headed home. This left only the three members of the Meng family, Cheng Nuo, and the half-dead Zhang San inside the house.
Afraid that Zhang San might let something slip, Mother Meng pulled her son toward their house. She alternated between fretting that the examinations had worn him to the bone and asking if he had befriended other successful candidates who could help open doors for his sister.
Cheng Nuo walked at the very back, kicking loose gravel by the roadside. She heard Meng Sijing say coyly, "Mother, what are you saying? Your daughter still wants to stay by your side for a few more years."
"You are already nineteen," Mother Meng countered. "A woman’s prime is so short. You can afford to wait, but I cannot!"
Meng Sijing smoothed the stray hairs at her temples, full of confidence. "I am not one of those women who sells her looks, as you describe. Eldest Brother once said that talent and inner substance are a woman’s most precious qualities."
Having grown up shadowing her brother, she considered herself a woman of letters. They were born of the same mother; if her brother could pass the examinations, her own learning was surely not inferior.
Mother Meng gazed at her daughter with pride, and Meng Nanzhou nodded in agreement.
"Heh..."
A faint, crisp laugh drifted from behind them. Meng Sijing frowned and turned to see Cheng Siniang bent over in laughter.
"Ugly Cheng! What are you laughing at?"
Cheng Nuo picked something up from the ground. "Look at this needle. The eye is on the wrong end, and it’s so backwards it doesn't even know who it belongs to. Wouldn’t you say that’s funny?"
She held a rusted iron needle between her fingertips before tucking it into the pouch she carried.
"Vulgar," Meng Sijing said with disgust.
Mother Meng rolled her eyes. "It’s just a broken needle. Only a piece of trash like you would treat it like a treasure."
Neither of them understood the meaning behind Cheng Nuo’s words. Only Meng Nanzhou gave her a second look before walking toward their house without a glance back, heading straight into his study.
Mother Meng followed closely behind and shut the door.
"Son, the letter you sent back—was what you wrote true?" Mother Meng walked up impatiently and snatched the book from Meng Nanzhou’s hands. "That... is she really with child?"
Meng Nanzhou, who had been clouded with gloom, softened instantly at his mother’s words and nodded.
Overjoyed, Mother Meng pressed her palms together and bowed to the heavens several times. May the heavens be praised; a great joy had come to the Meng family.
"A boy or a girl? Have you had a doctor examine her?"
If it were a boy, the Meng family would have an heir. If it were a girl, well, something was better than nothing, though they already had one money-pit in the family...
Meng Nanzhou knew his mother’s thoughts all too well. Displeased, he said, "Regardless of gender, it is the child of Zhiyi and me, and your grandchild. This child has come at a serendipitous time—we discovered it on the day the exam results were posted. A double blessing. This child is the star of fortune for the Meng family, and I will not allow them to be wronged."
Mother Meng hurried to agree. "Yes, yes, you are right, my son. Ever since you reunited with Miss Feng, everything has gone smoothly, and you passed the exam on your first try. Look at how things have been since Cheng Siniang stayed by your side these years—you failed repeatedly. It is clear that Miss Feng brings you luck, while that wretch is nothing but a burden."
She had originally looked down on Feng Zhiyi—a woman who lived with a man without a formal match, having an affair with a married man; how could she be a good woman? But today, she had completely changed her mind. Good woman or bad, as long as she could ensure her son’s official career and give the Meng family their first grandson, she was a good daughter-in-law.
At the mention of Cheng Siniang, Meng Nanzhou felt only loathing. Six years of marriage had not brought them together; he had only felt a desperate longing to shake off his shackles.
"Was it you, Mother, who arranged that business about her cheating?" Meng Nanzhou walked to his desk, spread out a sheet of xuan paper, and began to grind ink.
Mother Meng knew she couldn't hide it and told the truth. When she mentioned Zhang San, she gnashed her teeth with hatred. "That vile, rotten-hearted thing! If he hadn't ruined it, I would have nailed Cheng Siniang to her coffin already."
A letter of divorce to make her a cast-off woman, then in a few months, bring in a new bride. Eight or nine months later, they could claim the baby was premature—who would guess it was conceived before the wedding? That way, they would have both face and substance.
Meng Nanzhou shook his head at his mother’s stupidity. Compared to him, Zhang San was mud beneath his feet while he was a star in the sky. As long as a man wasn't brain-damaged, who would abandon a successful scholar to go dally with a common laborer?
His mother’s plan was essentially telling the entire village that the Meng family was looking for an excuse to divorce his wife, disregarding the six years of support from his father-in-law’s family. How could he hold his head up before his future colleagues?
After the provincial exam came the metropolitan and palace examinations. During this time, inspectors would come to the village to evaluate the candidates' conduct and reputation. They were not ignorant peasants; the nuances of such matters would not escape their eyes.
"We must find a way to make Cheng Siniang ask for the divorce herself!"
Meng Nanzhou’s voice was cold, though his eyes gazed tenderly at his brushwork. On the white paper, a woman with a charming smile appeared. Even in simple ink strokes, it was impossible to hide her ethereal beauty.
Only a woman as talented as Zhiyi was worthy of being the wife of Meng Nanzhou.
"You little wretch, caught stealing food again! Just like your shameless mother, always stealing things that don't belong to you!"
Meng Sijing’s scolding and beating echoed from the direction of the kitchen. Mother Meng was used to it, and Meng Nanzhou merely paused his brush before continuing his painting, not even bothering to look up.
After the Mengs entered the house, Cheng Nuo found a stone by the well to sharpen her needle.
What she had picked up was an embroidery needle. It was very slender, thinner than a standard sewing needle, with a sharp, lethal point. Its length was perfect for hiding between her fingers where it wouldn't be easily detected—an excellent tool for killing, pillaging, and slipping away unnoticed.
She had suffered greatly in the training camp, where she had learned many survival skills. She had once been the strongest fighter in the base, and it hadn't just been brute force—after all, in a place like that, there was no shortage of strong men and reckless fools.
Brain was more important than brawn. If one made good use of "clever" tricks, even a low-life like her could have the last laugh...
Well, not the last laugh.
She had died a miserable death anyway. She wondered if those heartless parents of hers would shed a few crocodile tears upon hearing the news.
Regardless of whether they did, she would never see it.
Perhaps she was destined to have thin ties with her kin, never able to sustain long-lasting relationships.
As she mused, Cheng Nuo suddenly heard a sharp shout, followed by the sound of flesh being lashed, each strike heavier than the last.
For a moment, she didn't realize who Meng Sijing was disciplining. But as a small, thin figure emerged in her mind’s eye, Cheng Nuo surged to her feet.
"No!"
The kitchen door was wide open. A fragile, small figure was curled up by the firewood, arms shielding her head. Her clothes were in such tatters that anyone who didn't know better would have taken her for a beggar who had snuck into the house.
Meng Sijing stood with one hand on her hip, holding a rattan switch in the other, raining blows down on the child. The barbs on the rattan tore through the rags, whipping against exposed skin.
It was the dead of winter, yet the child wore only a single layer of clothing!
"Stop!" Cheng Nuo shouted.
Seeing it was her, Meng Sijing didn't stop. Instead, she swung harder. "An ugly freak giving birth to a little idiot! Living under my roof just dirties my house!"
Because of Cheng Siniang and her mute little girl, Meng Sijing had been mocked by the villagers more times than she could count. Even Guixiang, the widow at the end of the village, dared to look down on her. Now that she had caught the little idiot making a mistake, she was determined to teach her a lesson.
Cheng Nuo’s eyes turned cold. "I warned you."
Meng Sijing remained oblivious to the danger, dismissing her words as she raised her hand to strike again.
The child, curled into a ball like a seashell, heard the whistling wind, trembled violently, and resigned herself to tightening her hold.
"I’m going to teach you a lesson today, and see who dares to—"
She was halfway through her sentence.
Cheng Nuo raised her hand, and a polished flying needle, glinting with a cold light, shot through the air.