"Qingqing, dear, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re a young girl living all alone here, and it’s just too dangerous. How about I have Yunyun come over to keep you company? I simply can’t rest easy knowing you’re here by yourself."
As her aunt spoke, she scanned the room, poking around here and there with the possessive air of someone surveying her own treasure. In her eyes, no doubt, all of this would soon be theirs.
Though her words were honeyed, there wasn't a shred of genuine concern in her eyes. It was clear this had all been plotted at home beforehand.
Upon hearing her mother, Jiang Yun looked at Feng Qingqing with eyes full of anticipation. She had heard plenty about this cousin—raised in the lap of luxury, both parents working, living in a household renowned for its wealth in their neighborhood. If she could move in, not only would she be rewarded by her mother for completing her task, but all of that "idiot's" things would effectively become hers. Thinking of the wardrobe full of fine clothes, her gaze intensified, as if she could already imagine herself wearing them and basking in the envious stares of others.
In her past life, it had been exactly like this. Back then, Feng Qingqing had been so moved by her Aunt Feng Damei’s words, believing that even though her parents were gone, she still had an aunt who truly cared for her. She had thought she would have to be good to her aunt’s family for the rest of her life. But now, knowing the true character of these people, how could she ever let them take advantage of her again? Still, considering her upcoming plans, she couldn't afford to burn bridges just yet.
Feng Qingqing lowered her head, feigning a moment of contemplation, before looking up at Feng Damei with an expression of naive confusion.
"I would love for my cousin to come and keep me company, and I'd like to get closer to her, too. But the thing is, the people from the factory office were just here. They said this apartment belongs to the factory, and once I've packed up, I have to move out. It’s not a good look for me to be occupying such a large place all by myself, after all."
Feng Damei exploded at these words. She had her own designs on this apartment; if it were returned to the factory, it would have absolutely nothing to do with her.
"Which leader at the factory said that? Tell me, Qingqing! If I don't go and tear a strip off them, I’ll write my surname backward!"
She stood up, storming toward the door with an aggressive air, clearly ready to start a fight. "My brother and sister-in-law gave so much to this factory—they even gave their lives! Their bodies aren't even cold yet, and they want to force their only daughter out? Is there no justice left?"
"Aunt, Aunt, please calm down! Let me finish what I have to say first, okay?" Feng Qingqing grabbed her and pulled her back to the sofa. *I can’t let you ruin my plans,* she thought. *If you go now, how am I supposed to play the rest of my act?*
"Aunt, the house is a minor issue..."
"What? You little girl, what are you saying? The house is a minor issue? Then what could possibly be a major one?" Feng Damei shrieked, her voice an octave higher. In her eyes, this house was already her family's property—she had even planned out how they would use it. There could be no mistakes here.
When Feng Damei was young, she had set her sights on Jiang Yong, who was handsome but came from a poor, burdened family. Over the years, she had been dragged down by her in-laws, living a tight, miserable life. That was precisely why she had spent so many years shamelessly coming over to sponge off her brother’s family. She had three sons and a daughter. Her eldest, Jiang Hongbing, was already twenty-four, and they hadn't been able to get him married because they lacked a house. This had worried the couple so much their hair had turned gray.
When she heard her brother and sister-in-law had died, her first thought wasn't sorrow, but how she could profit from it. The couple had discussed it until the middle of the night, finally hammering out a plan. The house was one of the most crucial parts of that plan, and it could not be lost. That was why she had blown up at the mention of it being a "minor issue."
However, hearing Feng Qingqing’s next words, her voice involuntarily dropped, and her body tensed up. She asked again, unable to control herself: "Qingqing, what did you say? Say it again. Did you just mention... a job?"
She stared at Feng Qingqing without blinking, as if she couldn't believe her ears. Even Jiang Yun, standing to the side, nervously gripped the hem of her shirt. She knew full well what a job meant for a family in this day and age.
"I said, Aunt, the house is important, but is it more important than a job? And what about my cousin?"
As soon as she finished, Feng Qingqing saw Feng Damei’s breathing become heavy. Although the couple’s primary focus had been the house, a job was something they had hoped to scheme for later. To them, Feng Qingqing was an orphaned girl—everything she had belonged to them. But since the "dead girl" herself had brought it up, it meant there was a lead!
"Tell me, what’s going on exactly?" Feng Damei leaned forward, eager to hear the result.
Feng Qingqing didn't hesitate. She laid out the story exactly as she had scripted it. After all, one must eat a meal bite by bite for it to be satisfying, and revenge must be savored little by little. A dull blade cuts deeper.
She told Feng Damei that the factory office had said one of her parents' jobs could be passed down to her. However, because the apartment was factory property—originally assigned to her parents because they were a dual-income household—it was no longer appropriate for a single person to occupy such a large space.
The factory had come up with a solution to appease the public, since housing was incredibly scarce and every family was squeezed into tiny rooms, all eyeing any vacancy with envy. If Feng Qingqing wanted to keep both the job and the apartment, she would have to pay a "compensation fee" of 600 yuan. Of course, she could choose not to pay, but the apartment would then be reclaimed, and she would be moved to a single person’s dormitory.
Feng Damei exploded again at the mention of 600 yuan. She was counting on this house to get her son a wife! She jumped up: "Qingqing, this house was lived in by your parents! You can't let their spirits rest uneasy!"
Feng Qingqing felt a wave of icy contempt. *Rest uneasy? With a sister like you, they never could!* If she hadn't been reborn, her own daughter would have been tormented and ground down again just like in the past life.
"That's exactly why, Aunt. I'm young and naive; I don't know how to handle these things. Between this job and this house, what do you think I should do?" Her eyes turned red. *I’m pouring all my acting skills into this just to maintain the 'innocent girl' persona,* she thought.
Feng Damei’s agitation unexpectedly subsided. She pulled up a stool, sat down, and signaled for her daughter Jiang Yun to pull Feng Qingqing close, ready for a heart-to-heart.
"Qingqing, dear, I’ve been through a lot. I’ve eaten more salt than you’ve drunk water. I won't steer you wrong. Listen to me about this job and the house—it’ll be for the best." The look of faux-sincerity on her usually arrogant, overbearing face was incredibly jarring.
But for the sake of her plan, Feng Qingqing put on a look of total trust, nodding her head vigorously as if she would do whatever she was told.
Seeing this, Feng Damei felt more confident and began to lay out the thoughts she had been harboring.
"Qing, your parents have just passed, and I know your heart is hurting and you can't accept it yet. But jobs don't wait for anyone. We need to get the paperwork done first. Here is what I’m thinking: you're eighteen now, a grown woman. In a while, I’ll find you a match. A woman needs to rely on a man for the rest of her life. As for the job, let your eldest cousin, Hongbing, take it for now. I’ll make him give you half his salary every month. Look, you get to stay home and rest, and you still get a dozen yuan or so a month. Isn't that wonderful?"
Before Feng Qingqing could respond, Jiang Yun sat there looking on with undisguised envy. It was the same as the previous life. Back then, Feng Qingqing had thought they were all family and hadn't fussed over it, handing the job over to her cousin Jiang Hongbing without a second thought.
After saying this, Feng Damei looked at Feng Qingqing with eyes full of hope; her expression couldn't have been more "loving."