Things had become tricky. That was why Zhai Yan had gone to the old Zhai house yesterday to find Xie Yushu as a way in—only to find she wasn’t home.
As for the second matter—the money Xie Yushu had brought with her had long been spent by their family. It had gone toward the townhouse and the bride price for their eldest daughter Zhai Yi’s marriage. Where would they find the money to pay her back now?
But the Zhai family would never admit to this. They’d spent Xie Yushu’s money freely and comfortably—there was no way they’d scrape together extra to give her.
Mindful of all the eyes watching, Li Yu kept smiling as he replied, “Yushu, we’re family. Family doesn’t keep such strict accounts, does it?”
Then, dropping the pretense of warmth, he shifted his tone to one of veiled threat: “If you insist on accounting, I can tally up all your expenses living with us all these years.”
Hearing her uncle shamelessly bring up “expenses,” Xie Yushu couldn’t help but laugh.
She’d been here for a while now, and the original owner’s memories were becoming clearer with time. Xie Yushu was gradually piecing together the pitiful picture of the orphan girl’s life under someone else’s roof.
“Fine, let’s tally it up. Let’s count all my expenses living with you all these years.” This suited her perfectly—she’d come today to expose the Zhai family’s hypocrisy.
The Zhai family cared deeply about appearances. They loved putting on a show of being caring and generous. Their neighbors all praised them for being so devoted to their late brother’s daughter. The Zhai family had happily soaked up all that praise.
Xie Yushu raised her voice, as if to make sure the onlookers could hear clearly: “When you brought me home, you made me sleep in the woodshed. I had to get up before dawn to light the fire and boil water, but I was never allowed to touch the meat, vegetables, sugar, or salt on the stove—you were afraid I’d sneak food. You ate meat and fish, while I was given watery porridge and tough, stale vegetables.”
Li Yu had once told the neighbors, as if casually, that they never made Xie Yushu do such heavy kitchen work and that she slept until late every day. The neighbors had all said she was lucky to have such a kind aunt and uncle, that she was living the good life.
Now, hearing Xie Yushu’s words, the neighbors who’d heard Li Yu’s story finally understood what kind of “good life” that had been.
Xie Yushu’s expression remained calm as she continued: “Zhai Er—your precious daughter—called me a freeloader, said I was a jinx who’d killed my parents. She poured water on my bedding at night and trampled on the clothes my father had sewn for me. And what did you do? You turned a blind eye. When I cried and complained to you, you said she was just playing with me.”
The physical hardships Xie Yushu could let go—the past was past. But what she was about to say now was a wound that ran deep in the original owner’s heart.
“My name was originally Yushu—the ‘shu’ meaning ‘book,’ as in reading. But my dear uncle,” Xie Yushu looked at Li Yu, her eyes cold as ice, “you changed it to the ‘shu’ meaning ‘shallow’ or ‘ignorant.’ You said a fortune-teller told you it would let your good daughter Zhai Yi get the better of me.”
Xie Yushu had only uncovered this detail from the original owner’s memories a few days ago.
Their names had been exactly the same—Xie Yushu, both of them.
The original owner’s mother had given her that name.
The memories before being sent to the Zhai household were somewhat hazy, but Xie Yushu could still glimpse through that fog a mother who, though a merchant, was well-read and eloquent, and a father who was gentle and loving.
They would crouch down, their hands always gently resting on their daughter’s head, praising her with full hearts.
“Our Yushu is such a good child.”
“Our Yushu is so clever.”
“Mother and Father hope our little Yushu will have a lifetime of peace and joy.”
And that little figure called Yushu would throw herself into their arms like a swallow returning to its nest, clinging to her mother’s strong, warm hands and nuzzling against her father’s soft, sun-scented clothes—as if that was her entire world.
Through that warm, loving haze in her memories, Xie Yushu felt her nose sting. The original owner clung to this memory, reluctant to leave, wanting nothing more than to hold her mother’s and father’s hands forever.
So the original owner had once been a happy child, cherished by her parents.
Whenever Xie Yushu thought of this, her heart grew warm.
But the warmer those memories, the heavier and more painful Xie Yushu’s heart grew as she stood outside the Zhai house.
The happy child in those blurred memories stood in stark contrast to the cold, painful, neglected, and bullied years in the Zhai household—a heart-wrenching disconnect.
The original owner had inherited her mother’s love of learning and her father’s gentle upbringing. Even as a child, she’d shown great talent for reading and arithmetic. That hadn’t changed after coming to the Zhai family.
But Zhai Yi, the eldest daughter, had no aptitude for studying. Li Yu saw this and worried, so he’d found a fortune-teller and devised this scheme to suppress her.
It worked. From then on, Xie Yushu became ordinary, lost interest in books, and grew quiet and withdrawn. Li Yu had been secretly pleased.
But the original owner hadn’t given in to his wishes. After her name was changed, she never displayed any of her talents in front of the Zhai family—but she became silent, as taciturn as a sealed jar.
The clearer these memories became, the colder Xie Yushu’s gaze grew when she looked at the Zhai family.
The name-change accusation struck a nerve. Li Yu was horrified—how could she possibly know that?
Unable to maintain his kindly facade any longer, he shoved Xie Yushu frantically, spittle flying, shouting, “You’re lying! Where did you make up these stories about our family?! Xie Yushu, everyone has seen how we’ve treated you all these years—and this is how you repay us? You ungrateful wretch! Your aunt has been so good to you!”
Xie Yushu stumbled backward from Li Yu’s sudden shove. She steadied herself, gripping his arm to stop him, then brushed off the spot he’d touched with a look of disgust.
The onlookers, shocked by Li Yu’s crude and uncharacteristic outburst—he’d always played the kindly neighbor—let out a collective gasp.
“Guilty conscience, are we? You want to know how I found out?” Xie Yushu raised an eyebrow with a scoff.
The original owner had never known the truth before she died. She’d only heard her uncle say that the character “shu” was unlucky, that it had brought misfortune to her parents, and that changing it would be better. Naively, she’d believed him.
But after her death, this truth had suddenly appeared in her mind.
Xie Yushu guessed that Heaven had eyes—unwilling to let the pitiful original owner remain in the dark even after death, it had cleared her mind and revealed the Zhai family’s true nature.
Li Yu glared at Xie Yushu with bloodshot eyes, his face twisted and grotesque with rage.
Xie Yushu’s voice was clear but not shrill, easily cutting through Li Yu’s hysterical shrieks. Her tone was steady and firm, each word deliberate, as she laid bare everything the Zhai family had done over the years.
The crowd of gawking neighbors grew larger. They listened intently, unable to resist whispering among themselves.
“What a sin. So the Zhai family is really like this.”
“And they put on such a kindly act for us every day.”
“If they dare treat their own brother’s daughter this harshly, imagine how the man who married into their family must suffer!”
“No kidding. They’re wolves in sheep’s clothing. And here I thought they were so righteous—what a joke! Pfft!”
“Treating their own niece like that, and then demanding her wages? That’s just animal behavior. Aren’t they afraid of divine punishment?”
Li Yu had once boasted that as soon as Xie Yushu started earning wages, her first act was to hand them over to the family in gratitude. At the time, everyone had envied them.
Now, they realized it was probably the Zhai family who’d forced her to do it.
“Look at that young woman—not only is she good-looking, but her character is top-notch too. Even after being treated so badly, she’s still polite to her elders. And look at the Zhai husband—he looks like he wants to strangle her!”
Their voices weren’t quiet. Li Yu, red-faced and humiliated, trembled all over. Inside the yard, Zhai Yi and Zhai Er, intimidated by the neighbors’ gossip, didn’t dare come out to help their father. They cowered inside.
Li Yu truly wished he could strangle Xie Yushu and shut her up. But mindful of their size and strength difference, and the public setting, he didn’t dare make a move.
Xie Yushu stood there quietly, her clothes neat and plain—unadorned fabric without any embroidery—but clean and elegant. The cloth followed the lines of her tall, lean frame, outlining her upright, graceful figure. Her height gave her a natural advantage, looking down at the flustered Li Yu.
Her clear, refined features made the unmarried young men who peeked out blush. Too shy to stare openly, they could only steal glances at her.
The commotion outside grew louder. There was no way Zhai Yan could ignore it from inside.
Hearing Xie Yushu drag up so many old grievances, Zhai Yan stayed hidden like a cowardly turtle, wishing her husband could just get rid of her.
But when she saw the situation spiraling out of control, she took a deep breath and stepped outside.
Xie Yushu, seeing her finally emerge, said, “So Aunt finally decided to come out?”
Zhai Yan clasped her hands toward the crowd: “Apologies to everyone for this spectacle.”
Then, turning to Xie Yushu with feigned warmth, she said, “Yushu, we’re family—can’t we discuss this inside? Come, come inside, and Auntie will see that justice is done for you.”
“No. I’ll say it right here. Every single thing, one by one.” Xie Yushu’s voice was sharp, her expression resolute. Her mocking gaze swept over every member of the Zhai family.
A smudge of black soot from Li Yu’s shove remained on Xie Yushu’s left cheek. Paired with her unyielding demeanor, it gave her a look of quiet desperation.
She continued: “Your family took my mother’s money but never took proper care of me. You used it to buy your own house and to pay for Zhai Yi’s bride price. And as soon as I started working at the ferry, you pressured me—openly and secretly—to hand over my wages.”
“Now Uncle wants to talk about ‘expenses.’ Well then, let’s calculate exactly what I cost your family during all those years.”
The crowd, already drawn into Xie Yushu’s tragic story, began doing the math themselves.
If what she said was true, then she hadn’t cost the Zhai family a thing—she’d actually subsidized them.
First, there was her mother’s fifty guan. How could someone who could barely get enough to eat possibly have spent much? She couldn’t even afford new clothes, let alone the greater expense of private schooling, paper, ink, brush, and inkstone.
Zhai Yan was truly heartless. They’d also met her brother Zhai Jin—such a gentle, kind person, always smiling softly at everyone. How could one father have produced Zhai Yan, so cold and merciless, so cruel to her own flesh and blood?
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