Seeing Zhong Yanyan’s face darken with anger at her younger sister’s antics, Mingli was about to step in, but Nan Sheng stopped him.
Beating her up wouldn’t solve anything—it was better to address the root of the problem.
After Zhong Qin was dragged away, she sat on the ground wailing about how hard her life was, how her family struggled, how her parents never helped, and how her siblings abused her.
Her tears were dramatic and heartfelt, but everyone in the room had heard it all before and was sick of it.
Nan Sheng didn’t want to bring up her so-called "white moonlight," so she pretended to sympathize. "It’s my fault too. I had no idea Auntie’s family was so poor. Otherwise, I would’ve brought some food from home."
The moment Zhong Qin sensed an opportunity for gain, her eyes locked onto Nan Sheng, barely suppressing a smirk. Zhong Yanyan had raised such a foolish daughter.
"My dear niece, you’re the only one who cares about your poor auntie. Don’t worry—once your cousins grow up, they’ll repay you!"
Nan Sheng crouched down to help Zhong Qin up, her expression friendly. "We’re family—no need for such formalities. I work at the town government office, so of course I’ll help if I can.
Why don’t you take me to your house? If things are really as bad as you say, I can apply for relief grain on your behalf."
Zhong Qin’s smile vanished at the mention of going home. Her house was stocked with food and supplies—she’d be exposed in no time.
She put on a pitiful act. "Your uncle won’t let me bring family home—he’ll beat me if I do! Just give me the food directly!"
For years, Zhong Qin had used this excuse to keep her relatives away. The Zhong family rarely saw their son-in-law and didn’t want to cause trouble for their daughter, so they never pressed the issue.
As a result, no one knew the truth about her household.
Mingli, ever the sharp younger brother, immediately caught onto Nan Sheng’s plan. A little investigation wouldn’t hurt.
"Auntie, if you don’t take my sister to your house, how can she apply for relief grain? You seem awfully nervous—are you scared of Uncle beating you, or are you scared we’ll find out you’re not actually poor?"
"You’re lying! I’m not scared!" Zhong Qin snapped, her reaction only confirming Mingli’s suspicions.
She abruptly abandoned her demands for food and ice water, cursing under her breath as she bolted home.
Zhong Yanyan and Aunt Zhong had never considered this possibility before. Though they resented Zhong Qin for swiping their food, they’d always pitied her for her "hard life."
Now, faced with the realization that she might have been deceiving them for years, they couldn’t just sit back.
"Let’s follow her!"
Everyone except Nan Sheng—who stayed behind to care for the elderly—rushed to Zhong Qin’s house.
Nan Sheng thought to herself: if the old couple still refused to see the truth after this, she’d keep her distance from Xiaoling Village.
Grandpa Zhong kept glancing out the window, and even Grandma looked troubled. Once doubt took root, years of doting on their daughter suddenly felt like a cruel joke.
At Zhong Qin’s house:
Aunt Zhong hadn’t been here since the wedding. Compared to her memories of a cramped little courtyard, the place was now spacious and tidy.
The yard was well-equipped with farming tools and a cart—proof that Zhong Qin’s husband was a practical man.
Zhong Qin flopped onto the kang, thinking she’d have to visit her parents when fewer people were around. Her niece and nephew were too sharp—she’d slip up if she wasn’t careful.
Before she could catch her breath, the door burst open. Heavy footsteps echoed inside.
"Running around in this heat, you little brats? Want to end up like that old hag, collapsing from heatstroke?"
She’d only taken a few pieces of ice, and now Grandma was pretending to be sick—what a nuisance!
But the children didn’t come inside. Instead, the sounds of rummaging came from the kitchen and storage room. She still hadn’t realized her family had followed her.
"Is that you, dear? Did you bring back any meat? I’ve been craving some!"
Zhong Yanyan’s jaw tightened at the sight of the kitchen—fully stocked with cornmeal and jars of oil. Aunt Zhong, finding no grain in the storage room, checked the adjacent small room.
Inside were not just cornmeal but also coarse grains—enough to total four or five hundred pounds.
But she was sure Zhong Qin’s own room held even more.
The group barged into the bedroom, catching Zhong Qin off guard as they began searching every corner.
The kids used keys from a drawer to unlock the kang cabinet and two chests on the floor.
The cabinet yielded a canned fruit and over three hundred yuan, while the chests were stuffed with cornmeal, hidden under tattered clothes.
Combined with the kitchen and small room, there had to be at least a thousand pounds of grain.
Zhong Qin had played them all—living comfortably while swindling her elderly parents.
Her lips trembled as she blustered, "What are you doing? Trying to rob me?"
Aunt Zhong flung the money in her face. "We don’t want your filthy cash, Zhong Qin! Aren’t you afraid of divine retribution?"
Zhong Yanyan’s expression remained icy. She’d known her sister wasn’t as destitute as she claimed, but she never imagined her life was better than theirs.
Her heart had turned to stone.
"Enough talking. Take the grain from the small room back to Mom and Dad. From now on, we’ll act like Zhong Qin is dead."
She couldn’t stand to look at her sister another second—every glance made her chest ache.
Mingli and his cousins hauled the grain away. Zhong Qin tried to stop them, but the cold glares from her sister and sister-in-law warned her against it.
She could only watch helplessly as her hoarded supplies were taken—all the food she’d painstakingly carried from her parents’ home, gone in an instant.
Zhong Yanyan and Aunt Zhong carried a sack back together. While Zhong Qin wailed at home, the Zhong household was equally tense.
Zhong Yanyan stood before her parents, unleashing years of pent-up fury.
"For the sake of that ungrateful wretch, you’ve starved yourselves! Do Jing Yu and I live in luxury? We scrimp and save to send you supplies, and it all goes to waste!
If I ever catch Zhong Qin taking so much as a grain from this house again, I’ll never come back. You can rot here for all I care!"
She stormed out, dragging her children with her, tears streaming down her face the moment she stepped outside.
Fury and heartbreak warred within her—how could anyone be so heartless?
Aunt Zhong was furious too, but with the elderly couple reeling from the shock, she didn’t dare leave their side.
In her eyes, cutting ties with Zhong Qin and reclaiming hundreds of pounds of grain was a blessing in disguise.
Before parting ways, Zhong Yanyan warned Nan Sheng, "Keep your own grain safe at home. Sell what you can’t eat—no need to worry about your grandparents anymore."
With nearly eight hundred pounds of grain now, the Zhong family could tighten their belts and survive.
Nan Sheng, having achieved her goal, was in rather good spirits.
My heart aches for Zhong Yanyan, and I can't help but wonder how long it will take for this heaviness in her heart to fade.
