On the morning of the sixteenth of July, the village was in an uproar bright and early.
Chunyue and Li'an had asked Mr. Zhao and his wife to be their matchmakers, but no matter who they enlisted, the matter would never be approved easily at the old family residence.
The old madam lay on the ground wailing, a blubbering mess of snot and tears, accusing the Zhao Family of bullying them.
Her wails were more grating than the caw of a crow. "Oh, heavens above!" she cried. "Just send a bolt of lightning to strike me dead! At least in death I'd find some peace, better than being alive and trampled into the mud."
"Oh, Third Son! My Third Son! Come back and see! People are shitting and pissing on your parents' heads!"
"Oh, Lord in Heaven, my life is so bitter! Why did I have to marry into the Chen family? You people from the Zhao Family will all die miserable deaths! Did I dig up your ancestral graves in a past life? Or murder your ancestors? Why must you torment me like this?"
