"Tell me, what do you want?" Du Chunzhi smiled. "Pots, pans, bowls, tables, chairs—don't be stingy. Anything useful in this house, we’re splitting it down the middle."
Song Yao’s face turned green with anger. "Du Chunzhi, don't push your luck! There are only two acres of land to our name, and I’ve already given them all to you—that’s worth over ten taels of silver! You also demanded another ten taels on top of that. You’re richer than I am now, so why aren't you satisfied?"
"What you’re talking about and what I’m doing now are two different things. You gave me land and money to pave the way for Liu Yin to enter this house. I’m here to divide the property, which is exactly what a divorce settlement entails."
"Don't even think about it! The divorce papers are already signed, and if it’s not written on there, you aren't getting it. If you don't follow the rules, our Songjia Village won't have room for you!"
Du Chunzhi was not intimidated by his threats. She smiled and said, "If you don't like it, I'll just tear up the divorce papers and we can go back to living the way we were."
Song Yao roared at the top of his lungs, "The household registry has already been updated! You want to return to the Song family? That’s absurd! Keep dreaming! You're delusional!"
Du Chunzhi nodded. "Fine, if that’s how you want it, then I won’t stand on ceremony."
Song Yao exchanged a glance with Song Zhenqing and gritted his teeth. "You won't stand on ceremony? Well, neither will I! Since you delivered yourself to my doorstep, I’ll beat you first and then report you to the magistrate for attempted robbery of a private residence!"
Du Chunzhi thought the choice of words was strange, but she had no time to ponder it. She grabbed a tree branch she had just picked up and charged at them, laying into them with a series of sharp blows.
A farm woman’s strength was considerable, and weaklings like them were only fit to be beaten. The branch was thicker than a wrist, and every strike left a purplish-red welt.
Song Yao and his son, who couldn't carry a load or shoulder a burden, scrambled in terror, shielding their heads. Du Chunzhi thrashed Song Yao, pummeling the wretch until he collapsed to the ground, unable to rise. Then, she planted a foot on Song Zhenqing’s back and whipped his backside with the branch.
"Thinking I’m a country bumpkin who can’t read? Thinking I’m not as good as that Liu Yin? Who do you think washed your clothes? Who cooked every meal you ever ate? A good-for-nothing son looking down on his own mother—no wonder you couldn't pass the exam to be a Cultivated Talent! It would be a travesty of justice if someone like you actually passed!"
Seeing his son being beaten, Song Yao covered his head and scrambled over to save him, while Song Zhenqing took advantage of the chaos to run off and fetch reinforcements.
The ungrateful wretch bolted into the courtyard, only to be startled by a man standing there. "Y-you! What are you doing here?"
Zhao Laoliu answered truthfully, "I'm here to help clean out the house."
Song Zhenqing weighed his own combat strength. He couldn't even beat Du Chunzhi, let alone Zhao Laoliu. He decided to run—after all, his father could handle the rest.
As Song Zhenqing sprinted away, Du Chunzhi shouted from inside the house, "Zhao Laoliu, why didn't you stop him?"
Laoliu was very calm. "We agreed beforehand that I was only responsible for moving things."
Fine. Stopping people was an extra service. Du Chunzhi found a rope, tied up Song Yao, and began to sweep through the Song house.
She took a few of her old clothes, two bowls, two plates, a pair of chopsticks, a pot, an embroidery frame, a sewing basket, a rain cape, an axe for firewood, a spatula, and a water ladle.
These items were all old, but luckily, in her eagerness to join the household, Liu Yin had spent a bit of money.
There was a new cotton quilt that Old Mother Song hadn't been willing to use, a brand-new desk freshly made for the study, and Song Zhenqing’s new wooden bed... Since Liu Yin had offered these as tributes, she wouldn't be polite—she took them all.
Bound and unable to move, Song Yao was so angry he nearly fainted. "Du Chunzhi, those aren't yours! Why are you taking everything?"
"Anything in this house should have been shared property between us before the divorce, so why can't I take it? I only took one desk—didn't I leave you one? I didn't take extra bedding, either; your family still has plenty, don't you?"
Du Chunzhi frowned. "Wait, I feel like I’m coming out short. I took too little." She went back to the kitchen, found half a jar of lard that Old Mother Song had hidden, hauled away half a bag of brown rice, two catties of cornmeal, a small bag of dried vegetables, and went to the study to snatch a few books.
"Take it, take it all. Use the lard for cooking and the books for starting fires."
Zhao Laoliu didn't say a word, keeping his head down and just moving things outside. He caught a few rowdy village children by the gate and told them to call people over to help with the heavy lifting.
The men in the village loved a good show, and they also felt that Song Yao selling his wife was disgraceful, so a few strong men soon arrived to help Du Chunzhi move her belongings to her new place.
Before she left, Du Chunzhi gave Song Yao a kick. "You tell me: me taking half the household property—was that or was that not by your own consent?"
Tied to the leg of the table, Song Yao’s head, liver, and heart all throbbed with pain, his face twisted in a grimace. "You call that half? All the good things we had, you swiped them all! And my books! Give them back!"
Du Chunzhi looked at him silently and slowly raised the tree branch.
"A gentleman doesn't fight with women! I, Song Yao, swear here and now: one day, I will take back everything that belongs to me!"
Right. Du Chunzhi nodded, then grabbed two chickens from the pen and took the little yellow dog that was trailing behind her.
Song Yao was devastated. "A bandit! That is a female bandit!"
When Du Chunzhi returned to the dilapidated house at the edge of the village, the helpers had all left, and her things were piled at the entrance. She tidied them up, and the shack finally began to look a little bit like a home.
But the house had no courtyard wall, and the yard had been neglected for so long that the grass had grown to the height of a person.
The roof tiles were broken, letting light through day and night, which would be even worse when it rained. The courtyard next door looked decent enough, with sturdy walls and neat, orderly tiles.
A few families lived scattered around this area, all outsiders to the village. Du Chunzhi couldn't remember which family lived next door, but neighbors should look out for one another, so she knocked on the door.
With a creak, the door opened. Du Chunzhi looked up at Zhao Laoliu, who was a head taller than her and stood like an iron tower. She smiled sheepishly and said, "So you live next door? A pleasure, a real pleasure."
She quickly pulled out some copper coins, counted out five, and handed them over. "The fee we agreed on."
Zhao Laoliu took the coins, not being polite at all. "And the steamed buns."
"Right, right! I almost forgot!" Du Chunzhi laughed. "I'll go get them for you right now."
She turned to leave, intending to heat up the cold buns before bringing them over, only to realize back inside that the shack had been empty for so long that the stove had collapsed!
She could have gone to Zhao Laoliu’s place to borrow a fire, but in these times, rumors could be lethal, and it wouldn't be appropriate for a single woman and a man to be seen together. Du Chunzhi thought for a moment, set aside half the buns, wrapped them in oil paper, tied the package to the end of a tree branch, poked it over the wall, and gave a little cough.
Laoliu was worthy of his reputation; he heard the movement, understood immediately, and took the food from the branch.
Du Chunzhi satisfied her hunger, and Xiaohuang, having polished off a big bun, rolled around on the floor in contentment. Du Chunzhi reached out and petted the dog’s head, beginning to ponder:
Living alone as a woman at the edge of the village was too dangerous. The courtyard wall had to be repaired immediately, and she needed to set some traps to keep bad people from climbing over at night.
Looking at the sky, it would probably rain in a few days, so the roof needed to be patched up quickly, too.
She was grateful she had been clever enough to make the Song family cough up those ten taels of silver; otherwise, she wouldn't even have the money to fix the house.