Ever since her rebirth, Jing Shu had always wondered what kind of deep seated hatred could make Su Meimei loathe them so intensely, so irreconcilably. Su Lanzhi had genuinely poured her heart out for Su Meimei, so where did all this poison come from? Now she finally understood. They were never truly sisters. Su Meimei had known since childhood that she was adopted, a secret kept by the whispers she overheard, and that knowledge had curdled over decades into a deep seated, consuming hatred for the family she saw as captors, not saviors.
When Jing Shu finished speaking, laying bare the likely truth, Su Meimei glared bitterly at Su Guosheng, her biological father, the source of her original abandonment. "That's right. No matter what pretty story you spin, I'm the one who was abandoned. You had a proper wife and legitimate children over there in the city, so you forced me to pretend I was part of their family, just so you could wash your hands of me cleanly. Heh." The laugh was hollow, full of decades old pain.
"Meimei, Meimei, don't listen to her nonsense. I'm here now, risking my reputation to see you, to help you. Maybe this revelation is for the best. You've been away for so many years, it's time you came home. Bring Zhang Hanhan with you. Come back with me to our hometown. We have solid connections there. There's no shortage of electricity or water, and plenty of food stored," Su Guosheng said softly, patting Su Meimei's shoulder with feigned paternal concern. Zhang Hanhan, who had been clinging to her mother, looked up, her eyes lighting up with desperate hope at the mention of a place with guaranteed water and electricity.
Su Meimei sneered, shrugging off his hand. "Go back? Go back to what? To see Zhang Zhongyong living happily with that other woman? Would there even be a place for me in your perfect family? I refuse to live at the mercy of others ever again. I'm done being dependent." Her pride, warped as it was, was real.
Zhang Hanhan's face fell in immediate disappointment, while Su Guosheng secretly breathed a sigh of relief. His gamble, offering a hollow invitation he knew she'd refuse, had paid off. If she had actually agreed to go back, he would have had no idea how to explain this grown, troublesome daughter to the 'tigress', his wife, waiting at home.
Jing Shu's gaze turned icy as she watched the exchange. She could see how skillfully this old man had defused the immediate tension and diverted the conversation away from his own failings and toward a false promise of escape. A manipulator through and through.
She had originally thought Su Meimei was her mother's biological sister. Killing her in the previous life, or in this one, would have left a permanent, agonizing scar in Su Lanzhi's heart. After all, the dead always hold more weight, more idealized memory, than the living. The thought of someone as venomous as Su Meimei occupying a place of grief in her mother's heart had always disgusted Jing Shu.
And back in the previous life, Su Meimei had no powerful connections to speak of, just a cheating husband.
Killing her then would have been as easy as crushing an ant, and Jing Shu, in her hardened state, liked to make her enemies suffer through the apocalypse's hardships before finishing them off. But now, the equation had changed. Su Meimei suddenly had a father who clearly held some residual influence, someone who casually offered promotions and access to power. Su Meimei was beginning to slip beyond simple, personal vengeance, she was becoming a potential external threat. Jing Shu's philosophy was to eliminate unstable elements before they grew fangs.
Hatred this deep, this foundational, demanded a clean, permanent severance. Step one was clear, sever all ties, publicly and finally.
"Mom, Uncle, you heard her. This is how she has always thought of us, of Grandma and Grandpa. And this Second Grand uncle is no good person either. He abandoned his own child for his career and now comes crawling back to play the benevolent father when it suits him. As for Su Meimei, she has been nursing this resentment against you since she was a child. We cannot be family with people like this. They are poison." Jing Shu's voice was calm.
Su Lanzhi took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing herself to calm down from the heartbreak. "I stopped acknowledging her as my sister the day she and that man, Sun Yinrui, conned me out of the car money. Now the truth is out. She has never seen me as family. She doesn't even acknowledge the parents who raised her, who sacrificed for her. She is a thankless wolf. From this moment, the Su family of our branch doesn't recognize her anymore." The declaration was formal, a cutting of the cord.
"That's right. She's nothing but an ungrateful wolf!" Su Yiyang's voice was thick with tears and anger. "Our parents were blind with love. When they were gravely ill, they chose not to treat themselves, to save every penny so they could scrape together tuition for you. And this is how you repay them?" His hand trembled as he pointed at Su Meimei, tears streaking down his weathered face. "Let's go. From now on, we walk separate roads. We are strangers." He turned toward the door.
Su Meimei sat on the floor, crying hysterically now, a mix of rage and self pity. "Fake! It was all fake sympathy, all of you! I hate you! I've always hated you!"
Wang Fang had been standing there, still dazed by the sudden familial explosion, while Su Long's attention had drifted back to the green garlic shoots on the balcony, a symbol of withheld plenty. Hearing they were leaving, Auntie finally shook herself into motion.
Jing Shu strode over to the table, grabbed the container of marinated eggs and the jar of pickles with a cold sneer. "Giving these to you was like feeding a dog. What a waste of good food." She made a show of taking them back, reclaiming every ounce of their generosity.
Su Meimei pointed a shaking, bloody finger at Jing Shu, hatred twisting her swollen face. "You! This is all your fault! Everything turned out this way because of you! You ruined everything!"
When Jing Shu started taking back their gifts, Wang Fang seemed to finally understand the permanence of the break. After a moment's hesitation, driven by a sharp instinct not to lose out, she rushed back to the low table. "Since we're no longer family, I'll take back this piece of meat you didn't appreciate." She scooped up the small, precious piece of pork, her mind already imagining the modest feast they'd have tonight, a silver lining.
Back in the car, the atmosphere was heavy and silent for the first few minutes. Su Long stared at the retrieved container of marinated eggs now at Jing Shu's feet, drooling openly. This time, perhaps sensing the shift, no one stopped him when he tentatively reached. He finally got his wish and ate one, then another. The tension seemed to break enough that everyone had a small taste, a communion of the betrayed. Su Long, emboldened, polished off four eggs in one go.
"Come to my place for a bit," Su Yiyang said quietly, trying to offer some comfort to his visibly shaken sister. Anyone would struggle to accept this level of betrayal from someone raised as a sibling. After their parents died, there were only three of them left. Now, in essence, there was only one, himself. Su Lanzhi had lost a sister twice over.
"Alright," Su Lanzhi agreed, her voice weary.
They headed toward his home at Xishan. In the back seat, Wang Fang clutched the reclaimed piece of pork, internally torn. Should she cook it tonight to entertain them, to show solidarity? Or should she hoard it? She hated to part with it, but also understood the need for gesture.
But her domestic dilemma turned out to be pointless. Halfway there, an unexpected situation arose, a makeshift checkpoint had been set up by a group of armed men who were commandeering vehicles for some purpose. Jing Shu, assessing the risk instantly, made a quick decision. She had Jing An turn down a side alley, and in the confusion, they left Auntie's family stranded on the side of the scorching road, the 52 degree heat hitting them like a wall. They were forced to walk the remaining several kilometers. Auntie's family, unprepared for the brutal trek, nearly collapsed from heat exhaustion before reaching their home. With no taxis or buses running anymore, there had been no other choice, it was a harsh lesson in the new realities.
"The meat is safe, but this heat will spoil it if we don't eat it fast," Wang Fang sighed later, fanning herself with a piece of cardboard. "The car's better. It has air conditioning and it's fast." Her complaint was about the loss of convenience, not the family left behind.
"Mom, didn't you see Jing Shu's face in the car? The whole car felt colder than the AC. She's terrifying when she's quiet. Something serious must have happened back there for her to just leave us like that."
"Jing Shu is becoming harder and harder to read," Wang Fang conceded, a hint of fear finally entering her voice.
…
Elsewhere, in a dim, makeshift interrogation room.
"Tell me, how can a single small villa wipe out over a hundred armed members of Bi Ri? Don't tell me you don't know. You lived in that community. Funny thing is, I heard you're actually related to the villa's owner."
The interrogator paced slowly. "There are 129 households in your community, but that villa only has one registered owner, a young woman named Jing Shu. The other 129 households, the apartments, have only one collective registered owner listed, someone named Jing Shanhe. Who is he to you? Let me guess. Your mother is Jing Lai, and the household head is Jing Shanhe. So he's your father. That makes him your grandfather, right?"
He stopped, leaning close. "So what's your connection to Jing Shu, the villa's owner? How many people are actually holed up in that villa? Are there special forces soldiers stationed there? Bi Ri's surviving men swore they heard sustained gunfire. Their own boss had a gun, so the villa's owner must have one too, at least. But a gun alone can't kill over a hundred men in a defensive position. The only explanation is powerful, pre set traps, right? Are you sure you don't know anything about the layout?
Strange. Such a big event, and no one else in your entire community we've pulled in could provide any useful clues. Is it really that mysterious, or is someone ensuring silence?"
The man, tall with sharp features, blew softly on a lit candle he held, and his dark bangs swayed with the slight breeze of his breath. His profile showed a touch of theatrical exasperation. He took out a piece of red candle wax, softening it over the flame. "They say women care about their looks above all. Which type are you?"
Opposite him, tied to a chair but holding her head high, Wu You'ai raised her chin with a defiant, bright smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Me? I don't care about that. Not one bit."
"Oh?" The man's eyebrow quirked. "Then you must be the type that's afraid of pain. Perfect. It's just that I don't particularly like to disfigure people. It's messy. I prefer other forms of torture. I like to watch people suffer so much they beg for death, but their bodies remain intact. That's what we at Zhetian have come to specialize in. Ever heard of Yang Yang from the Armed Police Unit? He's into pain that leaves no marks, very technical. I'm the opposite, I like the marks to tell a story." He rolled the warm, pliable wax between his fingers, his meaning clear. The interrogation had just moved beyond questions.