Fresh air filled her chest, and the warm autumn afternoon sunlight shone down on her body. Yang Ruoqing squinted in comfort and lifted her arms to stretch lazily.
"Ghost?!"
Bang!
A sharp scream from a woman suddenly echoed from the main house entrance, followed by the sound of a wooden bucket crashing to the ground.
Yang Ruoqing turned toward the sound and saw a medium-built, middle-aged woman standing at the entrance to the kitchen. The woman was dressed in a coarse linen jacket patched all over, but the stitching on those patches was crooked and messy, resembling squirming centipedes—ugly and unsightly.
The woman's hair was a tangled mess, with a few strands tucked behind her ears and others damp and sticky, clinging to her cheeks. Half her face was covered, while the exposed part had a smear of black soot, likely from the bottom of a pot.
Her eyes were locked onto the western wing where Yang Ruoqing stood, mouth gaping wide enough to fit an egg, her slightly clouded gaze now filled with sheer terror. She trembled uncontrollably, looking as if she might burst into tears at any moment.
Around her waist was a filthy apron, and her hands were still frozen in mid-air as though she were still carrying something. The wooden bucket by her feet had toppled over, spilling swill all over the ground, instantly filling the air with a sour, nauseating stench.
With one glance, Yang Ruoqing recognized this disheveled, slovenly woman standing in the swill without even bothering to move her feet—her eldest aunt by marriage, Jin Shi.
"Sister-in-law, don't be scared, Qing'er's not a ghost. She's alive and well! Look, she even has a shadow!"
Sun Shi quickly reacted, immediately realizing that Tan Shi must have spread some false rumor, and hurriedly tried to explain to Jin Shi.
But Sun Shi's explanation didn't snap Jin Shi out of her stupor. Instead, it alarmed Tan Shi, who had been napping in the east wing across the courtyard.
Tan Shi propped open the wooden window frame and glanced into the yard. When she saw Sun Shi supporting Yang Ruoqing by the western wing wall, she scowled and said coldly, "Not dead, huh? Still suffering alive—what's there to be so happy about?"
Sun Shi lowered her head and didn't dare make another sound. She quietly whispered to Yang Ruoqing, "Qing'er, standing must be tiring. Let me help you sit down."
Yang Ruoqing glanced at the small stool under the wall and hesitated. With her current weight, could that frail little stool even hold her?
Just as that thought flashed through her mind, Sun Shi was already pressing down gently on her shoulders, guiding her to sit. As Sun Shi straightened up and was about to leave, a sharp crack came from beneath Yang Ruoqing's oversized rear. The makeshift bricks supporting the stool crumbled with a loud crash.
The stool tilted violently to one side, and it looked like her daughter was about to land hard on her backside. Sun Shi's heart leaped into her throat, and she reached out instinctively, letting out a panicked cry.
But before her hand even touched her daughter, she saw Yang Ruoqing—who should've fallen flat on her butt—suddenly push off the ground with one hand neatly and rise back to her feet.
The stool toppled over, rolling several times before coming to a stop.
"Qing'er! Are you alright? How's your wrist? Let Mother take a look…"
Yang Ruoqing originally wanted to reassure her that she was fine, but remembering that there were two other pairs of eyes watching, she instead pursed her lips and acted like a frightened child. Like a little one who had just suffered a huge scare, she threw herself into Sun Shi's arms, pretending to seek comfort while cleverly avoiding Tan Shi's sharp gaze.
Hiding behind Sun Shi, Yang Ruoqing's hand lightly patted her mother's back and gave her a discreet wink.
Sun Shi was slightly stunned, but then she remembered her daughter's earlier explanation. Realization dawned on her, and she let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Meanwhile, under the east window, Tan Shi, who had been paying close attention to the commotion here, scowled and snorted coldly. "With all that fat on her, what's the worst that could happen if she fell? Look how you're fussing over her, wailing non-stop this whole afternoon—doesn't anyone get to nap around here?"
Sun Shi guiltily lowered her head and said nothing. She picked up a brick to use as a makeshift stool, helped Yang Ruoqing sit down under the eaves, then grabbed the two empty bowls at her side and hurried toward the kitchen with her head down.
Her sister-in-law, Jin Shi, was clumsy and only helped with odd jobs around the kitchen like washing dishes or doing laundry. Qing'er's grandmother had made it clear—no delicate tasks for that sister-in-law. Sun Shi was in a hurry to get to the kitchen because she was worried about the dishes in the pot.
From the east wing across the courtyard, Tan Shi glared in disgust at Yang Ruoqing, who was sitting on the ground smiling foolishly at her. Just as she was about to pull her head back inside, she sniffed a few times.
Her sparse eyebrows immediately furrowed. What's that rotten stench?
A bad feeling rising in her chest, Tan Shi threw on an outer garment, her tiny bound feet stamping rapidly as she came out of the east wing. One glance, and she saw Jin Shi by the kitchen door—and at Jin Shi's feet was a puddle of spilled slop.
Tan Shi's expression darkened instantly. Clenching her teeth, she grabbed a broom from nearby and stormed toward Jin Shi.
Seeing Tan Shi's aggressive posture and the familiar broom in her hand, Jin Shi's face, smudged with soot from the stove, turned ashen white.
Yang Ruoqing thought Jin Shi might run, but instead, the woman stood there trembling, her feet seemingly nailed to the ground. She could only watch as Tan Shi closed the distance, raising the broom to rain blow down upon her. Jin Shi hunched over, shielding her head with her arms, wailing pitifully, "Ai-yo, ai-yo!"
And while Tan Shi beat her, she scolded furiously: "Useless, stupid woman! You can't even dump a slop bucket without making a mess—stinking up the whole yard! If it weren't for the four sons you birthed for this family, Oldest would've divorced you ages ago. You useless thing, what good are you!"
After a few strikes, perhaps because her arms were getting sore, Tan Shi finally stopped, muttering curses as she tossed the broom aside and stomped off.
Behind her, Jin Shi's face was streaked with tears. Her exposed arms were red and welted in several places, with some spots even broken and bleeding. Even so, Jin Shi didn't dare cry out loud. Ignoring her injuries, she crouched down with hunched shoulders and scrambled to pick up the slop bucket.
Yang Ruoqing was dumbfounded. This old lady is seriously fierce.
Seriously, this ancient mother-in-law and daughter-in-law dynamics were terrifying. No wonder they always said: A daughter-in-law must endure to become a mother-in-law. But… why must women make things difficult for other women?
Yang Ruoqing couldn't figure it out. Just as she was about to look away, she suddenly felt a strange gaze land on her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Tan Shi shooting a suspicious glance her way. Without hesitation, Yang Ruoqing stuffed her mud-crusted fingers—ones that moments ago had been digging in the dirt—into her mouth. Tilting her head up, she gave Tan Shi a foolish, wide-mouthed grin, strings of saliva dripping down her chin, glimmering like crystal in the afternoon sun…
Tan Shi's brows furrowed tightly. She glared viciously at Yang Ruoqing before turning away and slamming the east wing door shut behind her with a bang.
The warm afternoon sun poured down, making her whole body feel drowsy. This western wall was sheltered from the wind—if she could just doze off here, it'd be way more comfortable than lying on that damp, moldy bed inside.
(End of chapter)