Sisters Who Make Waves 04

In the middle of the night, Huang Minhao woke up in pain. Out of habit, he was about to kick his wife to make her fetch him water, but as soon as he opened his eyes, he saw a dark figure standing before him.

"Tell me, is my knife sharp enough?"

A cold sensation pressed against Huang Minhao’s neck. He didn’t dare breathe as the blade traced his skin, and Fang Zhiyi seemed to be pondering where to make the cut.

But then, Fang Zhiyi suddenly glanced at the sleeping Fang Zhaodi.

"Get up. Get out."

Huang Minhao felt as if he’d been granted a pardon. He scrambled to his feet and bolted out of the room.

"Sis, you’re awake, aren’t you?" Fang Zhiyi asked.

Fang Zhaodi opened her eyes, gleaming even in the darkness.

"You let trash like that bully you? How pathetic." Fang Zhiyi tossed the firewood knife back beside her and turned to leave without another word.

Fang Zhaodi stared blankly at her brother’s retreating figure. After a moment’s hesitation, she finally reached out and gripped the knife.

At dawn, Huang Minhao returned with the constable.

"That lunatic really broke into my house last night and tried to kill me!" he exclaimed, pointing at his neck. "Look, right here! He held his knife right here!"

The constable examined his neck but found no marks.

"Where is he now?"

"I don’t know! Probably ran off! You need to arrest him!"

Just then, Fang Zhiyi’s voice came from behind. "Brother-in-law? Up so early?"

Huang Minhao spun around and recoiled as if electrocuted. "He’s here! He’s here!"

The constable frowned but kept his patience. "Were you here last night?"

Fang Zhiyi looked utterly confused. "No, I slept in the haystack at the edge of the village."

"Haystack?"

Fang Zhiyi sighed. "Yeah, Brother-in-law and his family wouldn’t let me stay, so they kicked me out." He plucked a piece of straw from his clothes for emphasis.

"But my sister’s hurt so badly… I was worried."

The constable froze. So did Huang Minhao.

"Your sister’s injured?"

Fang Zhiyi nodded. "Covered in bruises. I don’t know who did it, but I plan to ask her and then tell our parents."

The constable shot Huang Minhao a hard look before stepping inside. When he returned, his expression was grim.

"Huang Minhao, I shouldn’t meddle in your family affairs, but do you realize domestic violence is against the law?"

Huang Minhao panicked. In his fear of Fang Zhiyi, he’d forgotten about his own crimes. "Th-that was just a one-time thing! She argued with my mother, and I lost my temper—"

The constable cut him off. "Listen, the Huang family needs to stop wasting our time with false reports. Clean up your own mess first! I’ve heard plenty about you beating your wife. Keep it up, and I’ll haul you in for questioning."

Huang Minhao nodded frantically. He was terrified of authority.

The constable glanced at Fang Zhiyi, who seemed nothing more than a harmless young man.

"Take care of your sister. If anyone lays a hand on her again, come find me."

Fang Zhiyi smiled. "Will do. Thank you!"

Once the constable left, Huang Minhao turned to Fang Zhiyi. Sober now, with daylight exposing the absurdity of last night’s events, he mustered his courage. "Get the hell—"

Before he could finish, Fang Zhiyi kicked his bad leg with such force that Huang Minhao tumbled into the courtyard.

Old Madam Huang rushed out, shrieking, "You damned brat! How dare you come back!"

Fang Zhiyi tilted his head, then grabbed Huang Minhao’s hair and slapped him hard across the face.

Huang Minhao’s cheek went numb.

"You wouldn’t dare!" Old Madam Huang screeched.

Another slap.

"Every word you say, your son gets another one."

Old Madam Huang screamed, "Someone help!"

Fang Zhiyi stomped on Huang Minhao’s mouth, then twisted his shoulder. Huang Minhao’s face drained of color, but no sound escaped him. After a few spasms, he passed out.

"Keep shouting, and I’ll take his other arm too." Fang Zhiyi grinned, the picture of a villain.

"Let my son go! We can talk this out!" Old Man Huang clapped a hand over his wife’s mouth.

"Talk? My parents think your dowry was too cheap. They sent me to collect. And while I’m here, I might as well stay a few days. Sound fair?"

Old Madam Huang looked at her unconscious son, then at Fang Zhiyi, and nodded.

Fang Zhiyi chuckled, lifting his foot. "So we’re one happy family now? Good. Go make breakfast. I’m hungry."

As he spoke, he glanced toward Fang Zhaodi’s room. A pair of eyes watched from the window.

Fang Zhaodi ate a proper meal that day—but only after Fang Zhiyi made each Huang family member take a bite first.

She understood. He was afraid they’d poison her.

Huang Minhao eventually woke up, glaring in silent defiance—until a few more slaps from Fang Zhiyi cleared his expression.

Strangely, Fang Zhaodi felt a flicker of satisfaction. It was unfamiliar, something she hadn’t felt in years.

"What do you want for dinner?" Fang Zhiyi asked.

Fang Zhaodi blinked. "Huh?" She met his gaze, realizing he was speaking to her.

"I…" She caught Old Madam Huang’s venomous stare and quickly lowered her head.

Fang Zhiyi turned. "Want me to gouge out your son’s eyes and pickle them?"

Old Madam Huang ducked her head.

Under Fang Zhiyi’s rule, Fang Zhaodi experienced being the head of the household for the first time. Old Madam Huang washed clothes and cooked. Old Man Huang fetched water, chopped wood, and fed the chickens.

Only Huang Minhao suffered, enduring more beatings until his other arm was dislocated too.

By day’s end, the Huangs had become docile as lambs.

Fang Zhiyi played the benevolent patriarch, smiling as he asked for their opinions. Fang Zhaodi almost pitied them.

But watching her cowering husband and meek in-laws, something took root in her heart.

After dinner, Fang Zhiyi idly poked at ants on the ground when Fang Zhaodi suddenly asked, "Won’t your family worry if you don’t go home?"

Fang Zhiyi shrugged. "I disappear for days all the time. They don’t care."

"Did… did you come here to stand up for me?" It was the question she’d carried all day.

Fang Zhiyi didn’t look up. "Stand up for you? How? They never hit me."

Fang Zhaodi froze.

Fang Zhiyi stood, dusting himself off. "Once I get the money, I’m gone. Don’t worry—I won’t overstay my welcome."

"Oh…"

That night, Fang Zhaodi tossed and turned, replaying her life in her mind.

She had always been obedient, always "understanding," always enduring. But today, her brother had awakened something in her—an emotion that didn’t quite feel like her own.