Sister 09

Fang Zhiyi gazed at her for a long moment before saying quietly, "You're not them. You don’t have to do what they do."

Fang Zhaodi froze.

Fang Zhiyi playfully waved at the Huang family members and slipped away.

Of course, he couldn’t actually leave. If Fang Zhaodi were to make another mistake, things would get messy. Resigned, Fang Zhiyi crouched back on the wall, hoping the mosquitoes would be fewer tonight.

Fang Zhaodi stood dazed for a while, staring at her mother-in-law slumped on the ground. Suddenly, she reached out toward her. Old Madam Huang flinched in fear.

"Where’s the money?"

"What money?"

"The household money. From today onward, I’ll be managing it," Fang Zhaodi said, enunciating each word.

"Impossible! You little—" Old Madam Huang was about to snap back, but seeing Fang Zhaodi raise her hand, she clamped her mouth shut.

The Huang family was usually united when it came to money, but faced with the threat of bamboo rods, their resolve crumbled.

Old Man Huang was the first to surrender. He had suffered the least beatings, thanks to his habit of staying out of trouble and switching sides.

"Daughter-in-law, you know I don’t handle the money. It’s all with them—my wife and son."

"You useless old man!" Old Madam Huang, already furious at her husband’s spinelessness earlier, was now incensed that he was throwing her under the bus while groveling to that little witch.

Old Man Huang, inexplicably slapped twice by her, shoved her back hard.

The family’s tendency to turn on each other was on full display.

Fang Zhaodi watched coldly as her in-laws brawled. She felt a pang of bitter amusement at the absurdity of it all.

"What about you?"

Huang Minhao, still crouching in a corner, shook his head frantically when Fang Zhaodi turned to him. "The money’s all with Mom."

Every inch of his body ached. Resistance was out of the question. Thanks to Old Madam Huang’s poisoning attempt, he hadn’t even gotten a meal today. His anger simmered, but he had to force a smile at the woman he used to beat without a second thought.

"Go get it for me," Fang Zhaodi ordered.

Huang Minhao reluctantly stood up.

A sharp strike landed on his bad leg. He yelped in pain and immediately cried, "I’ll get it! I’ll get it!"

That night, the Huang family was in disarray. Old Man Huang and his wife fought, and after Huang Minhao handed over the hidden cash and savings book to Fang Zhaodi, his parents turned on him too. They didn’t dare say anything in front of Fang Zhaodi, but once she returned to her room, the accusations flew.

From blaming him for giving money to an "outsider" to regretting ever letting him marry this "jinx," Huang Minhao had had enough. He shot back—if not for his parents’ negligence, would he have been born with a lame leg? Would he have needed to buy a wife with a dowry?

Old Madam Huang, bruised from her daughter-in-law’s and husband’s blows, wailed at the loss of the money and her son’s betrayal.

But neither Huang Minhao nor Old Man Huang paid her any mind. They simply went to bed.

The next day, Fang Zhiyi visited again. Fang Zhaodi handed him the money with a complicated expression, reminding him to give it to their parents. But seeing his indifferent face, her heart ached. Right—she was no longer their daughter.

She then turned her attention to driving the Huangs out—to tend the fields, watch the fishpond, buy groceries, and so on.

But Old Madam Huang soon returned, dragging a constable with her.

The constable looked exasperated.

"What’s the problem this time?"

Old Madam Huang pointed at Fang Zhaodi. "She’s trying to kill me!"

Fang Zhaodi recalled her brother’s expression from before. After a pause, she rolled up her sleeves and pulled down her collar, revealing old scars. "If I could kill you, would I have been beaten like this?"

Old Madam Huang grew frantic. The Huangs had called the authorities so often lately that even the onlookers were bored.

"Old Madam Huang, have some shame. The whole village knows how you bully your daughter-in-law," someone jeered.

This time, Old Madam Huang didn’t argue. Instead, she pointed at her face and hair. "Look at this! She did this! Her!"

The crowd murmured, but no one pitied her. A neighbor even sneered, "What? You can beat your daughter-in-law, but she can’t fight back?"

"Exactly!"

That neighbor had heard everything. In the original story, she was the one who reported the abuse for Fang Zhaodi. A mother of two daughters herself, she had always pitied Fang Zhaodi but felt powerless to intervene. But lately, the tides had turned. The Huang daughter-in-law was fighting back, and the sounds of the Huangs howling in pain were oddly satisfying.

"And she stole our money to give to her family!" Old Madam Huang suddenly added.

The crowd burst into laughter.

Married women secretly helping their families was common—usually with their own savings. Even the constable sighed.

"This is a family dispute. I can only mediate. You’re family—sit down and talk it out, alright?"

Fang Zhaodi listened earnestly and nodded. The constable lectured her at length, and she responded with sincerity.

But Old Madam Huang felt a chill down her spine. The sight of Fang Zhaodi apologizing so sincerely unsettled her.

That night, Huang Minhao stumbled home after drinking in hiding. But the moment he entered the yard, a thick rod—the family’s heirloom washing bat, now rarely used—came crashing down.

One strike sobered him up. Two strikes cleared his mind. By the third, he dropped to his knees. "Wife, I was wrong. I shouldn’t have drunk."

Fang Zhaodi sneered. "You can drink yourself to death for all I care. But today, your mother called the constable on me. Know what he said?"

Huang Minhao shivered at her tone. "What?"

"He said it’s a family dispute," Fang Zhaodi said slowly. "But I promised not to hit her. As her son, you’ll take her punishment, won’t you?"

"What?! Why should I suffer for her mistakes? She’s her, I’m me!" Huang Minhao protested before another strike landed, burning his arm.

Silence fell over the yard.

Huang Minhao didn’t think he was wrong. If anything, he resented his mother—if she hadn’t called the constable, would he be getting beaten now?

Old Madam Huang, already terrified, felt her blood boil at his words. She collapsed on the spot.

Old Man Huang glanced at her, opened his mouth, then shut it. The power in the Huang household had shifted. As long as he wasn’t the one getting beaten, he’d stay quiet.

Just like Fang Zhaodi in the original story, it wasn’t until midnight that Huang Minhao grudgingly carried his mother to the village doctor.