Yang Ruoqing felt just how strong her Fifth Uncle was—she couldn't hold him back at all. She quickly turned to her mother, who was still crying by the bed and seemed lost in her world, and said,
"Mom, come help me out!"
Sun Shi finally snapped out of it. Seeing the situation, she panicked again and hurried over to grab Yang Huazhou's other arm, pleading in a choked voice,
"Fifth Brother, we know your heart is in the right place. But the matter's already been settled—Qing'er's grandparents have already made the decision. What can we juniors possibly accomplish by making a scene? It's the middle of the night. If we kick up a fuss and wake the neighbors, the whole village will laugh at our Yang family!"
Yang Huazhou froze where he stood, the veins on his forehead bulging out one by one.
From the bottom of her heart, Yang Ruoqing disagreed with Sun Shi's words—they were too old-fashioned! But now wasn't the time to argue, so she quickly tried to calm her uncle down,
"Uncle, don't be rash. Grandpa and Grandma have only just thought of the idea. Madam Wang isn't coming for a few more days. Let's not act in haste—when my father wakes up, we'll sit down together and figure out what to do."
"Qing'er's right, Fifth Brother. Go back to your room and rest for now. Let's not make this public yet," Sun Shi added.
Yang Huazhou looked at the mother and daughter, let out a long sigh, and nodded, face full of grief and frustration.
"Alright. I'll head back for now. If anything happens tonight, just call me. I'm in the room next door."
"Okay, go on."
Once he had left, Sun Shi stumbled and almost fell. Her face was pale, on the verge of collapse.
Yang Ruoqing glanced at her mother's exhausted face and the wound on her forehead, her brows knitting together. After everything they had endured tonight, Sun Shi had taken the brunt of it.
"Mom, sit down and take a breather. I'll get you some water to wash your face."
Helping Sun Shi sit on the long wooden bench beside the bed, Yang Ruoqing walked to the washstand in the corner.
On it sat an earthenware basin, still half-filled with clean cold water. She soaked the yellowing towel hanging nearby, wrung it out firmly, and returned to the bed.
"Mom, don't kneel and kowtow to anyone again. If words don't work, smashing your forehead won't help either."
She gently parted her mother's messy bangs and carefully laid the cold towel across the red, swollen wound on her forehead.
The cold compress would help cool the broken capillaries and ease the discomfort in the injured area.
Sun Shi didn't speak. She just looked at Yang Ruoqing with eyes full of guilt.
"It's because I'm useless..."
Yang Ruoqing understood what her mother meant. She sighed inwardly. In this backward, closed-off countryside world of ancient times, feudal thinking ran deep.
Authoritarian family structures, patriarchy, superstitions... all were heavy shackles pressing down on people's necks.
She did not doubt that if Old Man Yang and Madam Tan were truly determined to sell her, then no amount of Sun Shi's begging would matter.
Her eyes flashed coldly. Sell me? Hah! She was no longer the dumb Fatty she used to be—there was no way she'd let them twist her around however they pleased!
"Qing'er, don't be scared. Tomorrow I'll go beg your grandparents again. I'll plead with them not to sell you!" Sun Shi said hoarsely, her eyes red and swollen.
Yang Ruoqing was speechless—but inwardly, she felt a warm surge of affection. She looked up and gave Sun Shi a sweet, obedient smile, nodding gently.
"Mom, I'll go boil some hot water. Let's soak our feet and go to bed—it's been a long day," Yang Ruoqing said, standing up to head to the kitchen.
But Sun Shi grabbed her wrist.
"It's pitch black out. You stay inside—I'll go!"
Ignoring Yang Ruoqing's protests, she removed the towel from her forehead, hung it back on the washstand, picked up the earthen basin, and left the room.
Soon she returned, carrying a full basin of steaming hot water. The two of them washed their faces and soaked their feet together.
Yang Ruoqing had only just recovered from a serious illness—her body hadn't yet regained its strength. She had been pushing herself all night.
As soon as she put her feet into the warm water, she felt a soothing warmth envelop her whole body. She couldn't help but sigh in relief.
Before she could dry her feet, she dozed off right there on the bench.
In the end, Sun Shi dried her daughter's feet, carried her back to their shared room, and laid her on the hard wooden bed.
She pulled a damp quilt over her daughter and leaned down slightly, gently caressing her forehead with her rough fingers, her face filled with both love and guilt.
Qing'er, don't be afraid. Even if I have to risk my life, I'll protect you!
...
In the west wing room, Yang Huaming sat on a stool by the bed while Liu Shi, with her big belly, half-squatted in front of him, helping him wash his feet.
The dim room was lit by a tiny oil lamp, its green bean-sized flame flickering.
Liu Shi looked up at Yang Huaming, who was leaning back like a little lord with his eyes closed, and lowered her voice:
"He's dad, I want to discuss something with you."
"What is it?" Yang Huaming asked lazily, not even opening his eyes.
Liu Shi pursed her lips.
"Say, if Third Brother ends up crippled, won't their whole branch fall apart? And won't their three kids eventually become our burden?"
"Isn't that obvious? What can we do? Our parents are still alive and healthy. As long as they're around, forget about splitting the family."
As long as the entire extended family was tied together, even if there wasn't much money in their pockets, they all ate from the same pot. You could slack off without being noticed.
"Alright, enough about Third Brother's family—I've heard enough to grow calluses in my ears tonight. Weren't you going to discuss something with me? What is it?" Yang Huaming asked.
"It is about the Third Brother's family," Liu Shi said while wringing out the towel and drying Yang Huaming's feet. She grabbed his shoes and helped him put them on, glancing up at him as she said:
"That little An from Third Brother's family—since the whole family's going to raise him anyway, why don't we take the opportunity to ask Mom and Dad to let us adopt him under our name? We won't have to raise him ourselves, but on paper, he'll be our son. In the future, when we're old, we'll have someone to care for us. And when we die, there'll be someone to smash the mourning pot..."
Before she could finish, Yang Huaming kicked her square in the chest.
She fell backward, landing hard on the floor, with a big wet footprint right on her chest.
(End of Chapter)