Living like a widow? My rough neighbor is coaxing me to have a baby every night.

Chapter 8 will let you taste the bitterness of utter disgrace.

The sun sets in the west, and the sky is ablaze with red clouds.

A long-lost aroma of food wafted from the Zhao family's courtyard.

At this time of year, the Zhao family's dinner is usually just a thin, watery sweet potato porridge, served with a few strips of pickled vegetables.

But today, the sun rose in the west, and the kitchen was filled with the aroma of white rice, mixed with the oily smell of scrambled eggs.

When Xianglian entered the courtyard carrying her basket, she saw her mother-in-law, Aunt Zhao, sitting at a small table in the middle of the yard.

On the table was a bowl full of white rice, a refined grain that the Zhao family only ate during festivals.

Next to it was a large bowl, filled with a small mountain of golden scrambled eggs, glistening with oil, which looked incredibly appetizing.

Aunt Zhao held a bowl in her hand, her mouth glistening with oil, and ate with great relish.

Her flabby body jiggled with each chew, and a satisfied gleam shone in her triangular eyes.

When she saw Xianglian return, Aunt Zhao, unusually, didn't start cursing. Instead, she lifted her eyelids and gave a sarcastic snort.

"You're back? What are you standing there for? Feed the pigs and come eat."

Have a meal?

Xianglian's heart skipped a beat.

In the three years she'd been living in the Zhao family, wasn't she always leftovers for her mother-in-law? What's wrong with her today?

She calmly put down her basket, went to the backyard to mix pig feed and feed the pigs, and washed her hands before walking to the table.

Zhao Da Niang had already eaten most of the white rice on the table, and only a few crumbs and chopped green onions remained at the bottom of the bowl of scrambled eggs.

"Sit down." Aunt Zhao tapped the rim of her bowl with her chopsticks, pointed to the bowl of fairly thick mixed grain porridge next to her and the only half salted duck egg on the table, "It's hot today, and you must be tired from working. Eat something good to nourish yourself."

Xianglian sat down meekly and picked up the bowl of porridge.

There must be a demon in the abnormal situation.

That old hag is usually so greedy, you could squeeze every last drop of oil out of her. Today she's serving her white rice and salted duck eggs; she's definitely up to no good.

Xianglian sipped her porridge, but her eyes kept glancing at Aunt Zhao out of the corner of her eye.

Aunt Zhao ate incredibly fast, like a starving ghost reincarnated. Every now and then, she would glance up at the sky, her triangular eyes gleaming with a mixture of excitement and malice, like a weasel waiting to watch a good show.

"belch--"

Aunt Zhao finally put down her bowl and let out a loud burp.

She picked her teeth, glanced sideways at Xianglian, and forced a fake smile.

"Xianglian, how did the work in the fields go today?"

"The weeds are all gone," Xianglian said calmly, putting down her chopsticks.

"Hmm, you're quite diligent." Aunt Zhao nodded, then sighed dramatically. "You see, as long as you behave yourself, how could your mother mistreat you? Before, it was because I was disappointed in you and wanted you to produce an heir for the Zhao family as soon as possible."

At this point, Aunt Zhao changed the subject.

"By the way, things haven't been peaceful in the melon patch on the back hill these past few days. I heard wild dogs and badgers have been stealing melons, ruining a lot of good stuff. Those melons are our family's only hope for the whole year. If they're all destroyed, what will we do?"

"My mother is old and her eyesight is poor. She can't see clearly even when she's guarding the melon shed at night."

Aunt Zhao continued talking to herself, her eyes fixed on Xianglian's face, "You'll sleep in the melon shed tonight, keep an eye on things. It's cool there, and there are no mosquitoes, much better than that stuffy woodshed."

Should we go to the melon shed on the back hill to keep watch at night?

The melon patch behind the Red Star Brigade is in a remote location, right next to a mass grave. Few people go there during the day, and it's even more eerie and terrifying at night.

The melon patch on the back hill is a place that sends chills down your spine just by hearing about it.

Not only is it right next to a mass grave, but two years ago an old shepherd broke his leg there and never recovered. The villagers all said he was possessed by an evil spirit.

Xianglian's heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively wanted to refuse.

"Mother, that place is too remote, I..."

"So what? Why did that beast have to ruin all the melons?"

Aunt Zhao glared at her, her feigned kindness vanishing instantly, replaced by her usual harshness. "What? You think you're something special just because I gave you a nice meal? These old bones of mine haven't even complained of being tired, and you're making excuses when I ask you to keep watch at night!"

As Aunt Zhao spoke, she began to wipe away tears. "Oh, my poor son! You work yourself to the bone outside, and this jinx at home won't even let you see a melon! I can't live like this anymore! I might as well just kill myself, so I don't have to put up with this ungrateful wretch's attitude!"

Zhao Da Niang was a master of the art of crying, making a scene, and threatening suicide.

Xianglian clenched her clothes tightly, her knuckles turning white. She knew perfectly well that the old hag had no good intentions, but in this village where filial piety was the ultimate deterrent, if she really let the old woman cause trouble, coupled with all the previous rumors, her backbone would truly be broken.

Moreover, she still holds leverage over Zhao Gang. If things get too tense and that old hag gets pushed too far, who knows what other trouble she might cause.

"Alright, I'll go." Xianglian took a deep breath, her voice as cold as ice, "Mother, stop wailing, people will laugh at you."

Aunt Zhao's crying stopped abruptly, and her ability to control it so perfectly was truly astonishing.

She wiped her dry eyes, a glint of triumph flashing in her triangular eyes.

"That's right! We're family, so let's not be so formal."

Aunt Zhao immediately put on a smiling face and eagerly got up to fetch a military-green water bottle from the stove. "Here, this is some hot water that was just filled up. Take it with you. And that..."

She pulled a rusty wood-chopping knife from the cupboard and stuffed it into Xianglian's hand: "Take this for self-defense, so you don't get hurt by wild animals. Your mother is just worried about you."

Feeling sorry for her? Xianglian sneered inwardly. This knife was probably not for her to defend against wild animals, but to prevent her from running away.

"I'm leaving." Xianglian didn't look at the old woman again, picked up the tattered straw mat on her back, carried the dim kerosene lamp, and walked into the deepening night.

As she watched that frail figure disappear through the courtyard gate, Aunt Zhao's smile instantly turned into a sinister and malice.

She spat on the ground, "Pah! You little bitch, tonight you'll taste what it's like to be utterly disgraced! Then let's see if you dare threaten me with Gangzi's matter again!"

After saying that, she turned around and went into the house, rummaged through the chests and cabinets to find a floral jacket and changed into it. She looked even more energetic than when she went to the market.

……

The road to the back mountain is not easy to travel.

It was completely dark, and the moon was hidden by thick clouds. Only the occasional pale moonlight peeked out, making the shadows of the trees on both sides of the road look like menacing ghosts that might pounce at any moment.

The wind howled, causing the kerosene lamp to flicker on and off.

Xianglian walked along the rugged mountain path, her heart pounding with anxiety.

This back mountain is usually only inhabited when people are planting melons and beans; at night, it's a place where even ghosts don't come.

The higher you go, the colder the wind gets, and the stronger the earthy and rotten smell wafting from the mass grave becomes.

When we arrived at the melon shed, it was a simple shed made of a few logs, covered with thick thatch, and drafty on all sides.

In the middle of the shed was a makeshift bed made of wooden planks, covered with a layer of moldy straw.

Xianglian spread the straw mat she had brought on the roof and hung the kerosene lamp on the crossbeam of the roof.

The dim light could only illuminate this small area, while the surroundings were pitch black. The rustling of the wind through the melon leaves sounded like countless people whispering.

She huddled in the corner, hugging her knees, clutching the rusty wood-chopping knife tightly in her hand.

Time passed slowly, and the night grew deeper.

Apart from the sound of the wind and the occasional strange cry of an owl, there were no wild dogs or badgers.

Xianglian's tense nerves relaxed a little, and drowsiness slowly crept in.

Just as her eyelids were drooping and she was about to fall asleep, a strange sound of footsteps suddenly came from the cornfield behind the shed.

"Shh...shh..."

The sound was faint, but it was particularly jarring in the quiet night. It didn't sound like a four-legged beast, but rather like… a human!