Sister 07

Huang Minhao nearly passed out again, while Old Madam Huang, witnessing the scene, cast aside her fear and lunged at Fang Zhaodi like a ghost. Fang Zhaodi couldn’t dodge in time and was knocked down, the two of them grappling fiercely.

Huang Minhao clutched his face, rolling on the ground in agony. Old Man Huang stood frozen, unsure what to do. Old Madam Huang, weakened by age, quickly lost the upper hand and was viciously slapped several times by Fang Zhaodi, who yanked her hair mercilessly.

Finally, Fang Zhaodi saw that familiar fear flicker in her mother-in-law’s eyes again.

She released the handful of hair, stood up, and spat fiercely. "Touch me again, and I’ll kill you!"

Huang Minhao, still cursing her as a "worthless woman," struggled to his feet. His vision blurred from the blood on his face, but he heard his father gasp. Before he could react, something struck his face again, and darkness swallowed him.

Old Man Huang stared at his daughter-in-law, her hair disheveled, gripping a stool with murderous eyes fixed on him. He hastily raised his hands. "Daughter-in-law, I didn’t do anything!"

Fang Zhaodi looked at him, then at the unconscious Huang Minhao, and suddenly laughed—a bitter, broken sound.

So this was all it took? Just fighting back, and they didn’t dare bully her anymore?

She laughed at their cowardice, at how they preyed on the weak. She laughed at her own past misery.

But her laughter sent a chill down the spines of the elderly Huangs. Had they lost one madwoman only to gain another? Did the Fang family have insanity in their blood?

Fang Zhiyi, perched on the wall, leaped down.

Little Hei asked, "You’re really leaving? Aren’t you afraid the Huangs will kill her?"

Fang Zhiyi shook his head. "Impossible. The Huangs are nothing but spineless bullies—a weak-willed old man, a vicious hag, and a cripple. She’s just forgotten how to fight back after decades of oppression. If anything, you should worry about the Huangs."

Fang Zhiyi returned home. The original owner of this body often ran off with his reckless friends for days, so his mother, sitting by the door, only scolded him half-heartedly when she saw him. Fang Zhiyi said nothing, slipping inside.

After rummaging through the house, he sighed in frustration. A doting mother spoiled her son—this body’s former owner had squandered nearly all his parents’ savings!

"No way I’m working a job," Fang Zhiyi muttered after a long pause.

Meanwhile, Huang Minhao glared hatefully at the woman seated nearby. He never imagined his meek punching bag would dare defy him! Was it because of that damned brother of hers?

His mother’s face was swollen like a pig’s head, and his father still acted oblivious. Rage burned in Huang Minhao’s chest.

But he noticed something—his arm wouldn’t lift. Whatever that Fang lunatic had done, his arm had been fine after being reset, but now it ached unbearably if raised past his shoulder.

As Huang Minhao plotted revenge, a searing pain exploded across his back. He shrieked, leaping up, only to find Fang Zhaodi standing before him, fury etched on her face.

"I told you to wash the clothes. Are you deaf?"

"You—!" Huang Minhao’s anger faltered under her gaze, an unfamiliar dread creeping in. "I’m injured."

Fang Zhaodi raised a bamboo switch. "So what? When you beat me half to death, I still cooked and washed for your family!"

"No food until you finish!" she barked, relishing the power.

She turned to her mother-in-law. "What are you staring at? Go cook!"

Old Madam Huang glanced at the switch and shuffled toward the kitchen, muttering under her breath—until the switch lashed her back, drawing a yelp.

"Huang Minhao! Your wife hit me!" she wailed.

Huang Minhao, grudgingly gathering dirty clothes, spun around in outrage. But as he limped toward the door, a blow to his good leg nearly sent him crashing.

"Did I say you could leave? Want to lose that leg too?"

When Fang Zhaodi pulled a chopper from her waistband, Huang Minhao hastily waved his hands. "I—I was just checking! I’ll wash them now!"

Fang Zhaodi turned. Old Madam Huang, thoroughly cowed, slunk into the kitchen without another word.

But as she cooked, she glanced around furtively, then pulled a packet of pale yellow powder from behind the stove. Pouring it into the pot, she hissed, "You little whore, daring to hit my son and me? I’ll poison you!"

Her face twisted with malice.

Half an hour later, the meal was served. Fang Zhaodi sat in the seat her brother once occupied. When Huang Minhao tried to sit beside her, she struck without hesitation. "Get lost!"

This seat belonged to her brother.

"You—" Huang Minhao’s eyes widened, but he quickly checked himself. "Wife, I’m hungry."

"Hungry? No food until the clothes are washed. Understood?"

Her gaze drifted to the empty seat beside her, as if her brother were there. It steadied her. Today felt surreal—no, stranger than a dream.

In her dreams, she’d only ever fled. Never had she imagined ruling over them.

"What would he do…?" As she raised a bite to her mouth, Fang Zhaodi froze. She remembered her brother’s habit—making them eat first. The Huangs surely hated her now. Who knew if Old Madam Huang hadn’t poisoned the food?

She caught Old Madam Huang’s gaze—eager, triumphant, unlike Old Man Huang’s longing stare at the food or Huang Minhao’s mix of resentment and fear.

Thud! Fang Zhaodi slammed her chopsticks down. "Huang Minhao! Come eat!"

Huang Minhao blinked, then hobbled over eagerly, scooping up a bowl. He’d been right! This defiance was just her brother’s influence. Soon, she’d revert, and he’d have her under his thumb again.

But as he lifted the rice to his mouth, Old Madam Huang shrieked, knocking the bowl from his hands. "Son, don’t eat it!"

Huang Minhao frowned. What was wrong with her?

"Heh… Why can’t he eat it?" Fang Zhaodi laughed until tears spilled. She never thought the Huangs would go this far. "Is it because the food’s poisoned?"

"P-poisoned?" The Huang men gaped at Old Madam Huang in disbelief.