There wasn't an extra word said, nor a single one omitted. It was a flat narration.

Cheng Ying grew bored listening. Her own mother was entirely unsuited for idle chatter.

The words were too bland, preventing any sense of immersion. If it hadn't been for her formidable grandmother, before Yang Zhi could even finish parroting, she had already burst out, "You useless thing, isn't that your child?

You're letting a child stick her neck out? Are you stupid?

Are you dense? Don't you have hands?

Can't you just slap her across the face?" Chi Wu looked at Cheng Ying with pure admiration; a slap to the face truly aligned with the old woman's way of thinking. Of course, this admiration extended to the less-than-charming old woman visible through the window lattice.

Cheng Ying basically concluded there was nothing more pleasant to hear after this point; her grandmother’s stance was crystal clear. Feeling particularly comforted, Cheng Ying tugged Chi Wu towards the backyard.

Her stepfather had been fiddling with the pushcart for half the day. No one knew what state he had gotten it into.

The stepfather, thoughtful as he was, had actually used strips of cloth to tie an old, worn-out padded jacket onto the cart. This way, when the old woman sat on it, it ought to be a bit more comfortable, right?

But in Cheng Ying's view, this was still a process of eagerly inviting discomfort. The conditions were what they were; how comfortable could it possibly be?

She just couldn't figure out why the entire village was acting as if they’d hit a jackpot. She heard that neighboring villages were doing the same, all preparing to travel to the township to watch the film.

The crowd would be enormous; the scene needed to be witnessed. Cheng Ying thought darkly, perhaps tomorrow night, with no one home in any house, it would be a heaven-sent opportunity for murder, arson, or theft.

This thought was getting too far-fetched. Cheng Ying shuffled her feet, even trying to push the thing.

It was cumbersome and heavy; she couldn't manage it. Then, "Uncle, you've been looking at this cart for a long time?" falling just short of asking, Why are you tinkering for so long if it’s such a good cart?

Chi Yong glanced at Cheng Ying, who was looking down at her work, without even blushing. "Mm, Uncle's hands are clumsy.

Tying on a piece of hide took half the day. I should have asked you two to help; it definitely would have been faster." He finished without sparing Cheng Ying a glance.

Cheng Ying observed closely: her stepfather's expression hadn't changed, his cheeks weren't red, not even his ears were flushed, and his eyes hadn't blinked once. What a thick-skinned person he was.

He admitted it so matter-of-factly. Cheng Ying rubbed her nose and walked away.

She was no match for him; thick skin was innate. Cheng Ying felt she was lagging a whole tier behind her stepfather in natural talent.

Never mind the fact that she was reborn. The most important thing for a person is to have an accurate self-assessment, absolutely not provoking someone who is better than you.

It wasn't shameful to admit defeat. As Cheng Ying emerged from the backyard, she ran right into her grandmother, whose face was displeased.

Cheng Ying: "Grandma, where are you off to?" The old woman: "Grandma's going out for some fresh air. Yingzi, you stay home, build the fire, cook the meal, and write a few characters for fun in your spare time.

Our Yingzi came out of school, after all." With that, the old woman walked out without waiting for her granddaughter's reply. Yang Zhi emerged, blushing and at a loss for what to do.

Cheng Ying: "Where did Grandma go?" Yang Zhi: "Listen to your grandma. Go play somewhere.

When the New Year passes, Wu Zi will go to school with you. You can teach Chi Wu some characters; you’ve been in school at least two years longer than him." Cheng Ying: "Why don't I see any brush or notebook?" Yang Zhi: "How can you be so impractical, girl?

What do you need a brush and notebook for? Go draw in the dirt in the yard with a stick." Cheng Ying thought to herself, so she was expected to produce master-level education with calligraphy drawn in sand.

She imagined elegant script floating in the sand, and perhaps a sand tray too. Reality was harsh; never mind a sand tray, the ground was frozen solid in the dead of winter.

How could one draw characters on it? Cheng Ying stayed in the yard with Chi Wu, staring at each other blankly.

It wasn't that Chi Wu looked down on Cheng Ying; it was just that, aside from never having attended school, Cheng Ying might not be much better than him when it came to recognizing characters. Cheng Ying didn't know what subjects she had studied in school, so from Chi Wu's perspective, Cheng Ying wouldn't know what to teach either.

So Cheng Ying asked a question that particularly rankled Chi Wu: "How many grades did you complete?" Chi Wu's eyes turned red. She was intentionally taunting him for never having been to school.

Seeing Chi Wu's expression, Cheng Ying suddenly remembered that the team leader had vaguely mentioned that Chi Wu hadn't started school yet. "Um, how about I teach you to count?" Seeing Chi Wu, despite his small stature, was actually quite old, yet still hadn't been able to attend school, Cheng Ying genuinely felt inclined to teach him.

Children without schooling were pitiable. Chi Wu turned and walked away briskly.

He wasn't arguing with Cheng Ying because he was a low-key person who disliked showing off. What kind of education did his father have?

Did he need a little girl to teach him to write? Or to count?

Chi Wu was utterly provoked. Cheng Ying truly had no idea how she had managed to annoy this boy again.

Was this a boy? He had the temperament of a girl.

Why was his personality so peculiar? Chi Yong watched the two children from the doorway, unable to decipher the expression on his face immediately, but Cheng Ying couldn't analyze it right away.

Cheng Ying directly voiced her dissatisfaction: "Uncle, did you raise Wu Zi like a girl? Why is his temperament so strange?" She was practically pointing at his nose and saying his son wasn't manly enough.

Chi Yong: "Yingzi, Uncle knows a few characters. Although Chi Wu hasn't been to school, he can write some, and counting is fine." Cheng Ying's face instantly flushed hot.

Why was it so scorching? She had only focused on Chi Wu not attending school and completely forgotten that her stepfather was an educated youth!

Could he allow his son to be illiterate? Cheng Ying wanted to slap herself twice.

Had her body shrunk, had her brain become narrower too? She felt like she was about to wedge her head into the door crack—a rhythm of seeking death.

This time it was Cheng Ying who turned and walked away. Chi Yong stood at the door, thinking that this silhouette truly resembled his own son's.

But watching his adopted daughter's retreating steps, Chi Yong finally said, "It seems Yingzi really was raised like a daughter." He was implying Cheng Ying's temper was just like Chi Wu's. Hearing this, Cheng Ying nearly tripped over her own feet.

Her stepfather was too unkind. And he was the type who sought revenge for every grievance.

How had she failed to notice this? A massive miscalculation.

Cheng Ying decided that in the future, she would avoid her stepfather whenever possible, striving not to provoke him. She reaffirmed that even though she had lived two lifetimes, she was no match for him in intelligence.

Cheng Ying wretchedly opened the wooden gate and went out to seek comfort from her old grandmother. Chi Yong stood at the doorway, his mouth curved in a smile so bright that Yang Zhi beside him stared, dumbfounded.

Good heavens, this man was quite handsome. Yang Zhi had never noticed before; it turned out her husband was actually somewhat good-looking.

Of course, the previous Chi Yong had never smiled like this. Chi Yong turned and saw Yang Zhi's expression, and any man would feel smug.

"Go cook," he said, calling his slightly lovesick wife back to reality. Yang Zhi tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and turned away calmly.

"Mm, it's settled then." Chi Yong was quite surprised. He knew his wife was honest, and he knew she was straightforward, but for her to recover from infatuation so calmly was something that seemed incongruous with her usual temperament.

Shouldn't she have blushed and tried to hide shyly? Chi Yong didn't know that Cheng Ying's deceased father had been a true handsome man, and Yang Zhi had grown accustomed to that standard.

Furthermore, having faced Yingzi's father for so many years, Yang Zhi had long since become capable of dealing calmly with the aftermath of staring blankly at someone. Chi Yong was a bit unsettled by this composure in his wife.

He understood his own looks well enough. So he stared at Yang Zhi for a couple more extra seconds, then touched his own face before picking up the whip.

"I'm going to feed and water the sheep. I’ll be back as soon as I’m done." Yang Zhi nodded.

"Mm, go quickly and come back quickly." Their conversation was as usual. Chi Yong noticed nothing of his wife's embarrassment or her dizzy fascination.

His charm wasn't enough, he had to admit that. Cheng Ying reached the main road in the village.

Where else could her grandmother have gone? Before Cheng Ying could even start thinking about where to look for her, she heard her grandmother's distinctive voice.

And it was a high-pitched, solitary shouting unique to the old woman. Cheng Ying listened carefully; what the old woman was saying was not pleasant.

But Cheng Ying's heart swelled with emotion. The person the old woman was cursing was the aunt who had said today that Cheng Ying wouldn't be able to marry.

Cheng Ying thought, no wonder her grandmother didn't let her follow; she was going to fight her battles for her. However, Cheng Ying felt she hadn't lost anything in the exchange.

Since her grandmother forbade her from showing up, Cheng Ying naturally followed her lead. Besides, no one dared to compete with her grandmother’s fighting prowess.

Cheng Ying turned back, pushed open the wooden gate of her yard, and squatted down inside, listening to her grandmother’s voice, which was definitely better than any celebrity's performance. About half an hour later, the old woman’s shouting finally subsided.

Cheng Ying could tell from the rise and fall of the voice that her grandmother had cursed her way from the east end of the village all the way to the west end. Cheng Ying squatted on the ground herself, unable to suppress the smile creeping onto her face.

Eventually, she even laughed out loud. Yang Zhi came over with the padded jacket and draped it over Cheng Ying.

"What are you grinning about? I told you to practice writing, and there isn't even a mark scratched on the ground.

All you do is grin foolishly." Cheng Ying looked at Yang Zhi, her eyes swimming with mirth. "Mom, have you cooked yet?

I'll do it." Yang Zhi: "Why bother with you? I can handle that little bit of work myself." Cheng Ying was defeated by her own mother; this woman just couldn't stand being idle.

Yang Zhi: "Yingzi, come inside. It's getting late and cold.

Grandma will be back soon." Cheng Ying wanted to ask her mother if she knew why Grandma had gone out. But seeing her mother's anxious eyes fixed outside, Cheng Ying kept quiet.

Her own mother probably knew what the old woman was doing out there. It seemed her mother understood the old woman after all.

As the two of them were peering out the wooden gate, their grandmother was actually being escorted back—truly escorted. A man who looked as dull as the second uncle followed behind their grandmother, appearing extremely cautious.

As they approached, Cheng Ying heard the man speaking to her grandmother: "Auntie, don't take any notice of that woman. I'll deal with her later.

We aren't thinking of anything else, but you have three grandsons who will need wives someday; we need to look out for them, right?" The old woman snorted through her nose. "If she was thinking about her own son finding a wife, why didn't she think about our Yingzi, who is so little, cursing us so we can't find a husband for her?

Does she have the sense of an auntie? Nephew, I'm telling you, women like that, you have to teach them a lesson, or else when you bring a wife home, she'll just be a troublemaker in the future.

If there's a disruptive element in the house, don't even hope for a good day. Don't you believe me?

I've eaten salt for more years than you, I have this much insight."