TSWPF – Chapter 3 Ruthless

Li Qingfeng thought Madam Zhao had truly died for him. Crying out “Mother!” he threw himself onto her and burst into tears.

The weight of him pressing down woke Madam Zhao. When she opened her eyes and saw her living son, she clutched him tightly and began to sob as well.

“T-that… Qingfeng didn’t fall into the river by himself. He was pushed in by Li Qingfu.” The fifth great-grandmother’s great-grandson, Xiaohu, fidgeted with the corner of his shirt and spoke timidly.

“What?” Li Qingling snapped her head around, staring straight at Xiaohu. Under her cold gaze, he shrank back a little. “Xiaohu, what did you say? Say it again,” she said, softening her tone.

“Bullshit! My good grandson would never push that short—uh, push Qingfeng! Xiaohu, stop talking nonsense!” came Madam Liu’s sharp voice from within the crowd. The people around her immediately stepped aside, exposing both her and Li Qingfu.

Wronged and anxious, Xiaohu raised his neck and shouted, “I’m not lying! Quan and the others saw it too. It was Li Qingfu who pushed Qingfeng into the river!” He pointed toward several other village boys.

Quan and the others nodded one after another, all speaking at once. From their words, Li Qingling pieced together what had happened.

Before Qingfeng fell, he’d been catching crickets by the field ridge with the others. When Li Qingfu came by, he tried to snatch the cricket Qingfeng caught. When Qingfeng refused, Li Qingfu, angry and unwilling to lose, pushed him into the river.

“I’m sorry, I wronged you,” Li Qingling apologized to Qingfeng, then turned toward Li Qingfu, her eyes dark and cold.

Li Qingfu glanced at her but didn’t dare act arrogant this time. He hid in Madam Liu’s arms without a sound. Seeing this, Madam Liu’s face twisted. She glared viciously at Li Qingling and snapped, “What are you staring at? It’s not like Qingfu did it on purpose. Besides, Qingfeng didn’t die—what more do you want?”

“Mother, how could you…” Hearing Madam Liu’s words, Madam Zhao, who had been sobbing weakly, nearly fainted again in anger.

Li Qingling quickly crawled over and gently rubbed her back to calm her down. Once Madam Zhao’s breathing steadied, she turned back to Madam Liu, expressionless.

“So according to you, Grandma, as long as the children don’t die, it doesn’t matter if Li Qingfu pushes other village kids into the river—is that right?”

She said it deliberately, to stir the crowd’s indignation and show everyone Madam Liu’s true face.

Sure enough, murmurs erupted at once. People began pointing fingers at Madam Liu, warning their children not to play with Li Qingfu anymore.

Li Qingfu was only eight years old; being singled out and criticized by everyone made him burst into tears.

Even Madam Liu began to feel uneasy. But she was thick-skinned and well-practiced at playing the victim—her favorite and most effective tactic.

She dropped to the ground with a thud, slapped her thighs, and howled, “Oh, my son, Laigui! Why did you have to die so early? My poor son, come and see how your daughter’s bullying your poor old mother! Heaven help me!”

Li Qingling twitched her lips. Not one to back down, she took a deep breath, knelt down in front of Madam Liu, and began kowtowing hard. “Grandmother, tell me—is my father your real son? You treat his children like this and aren’t afraid he’ll come for you in the middle of the night? Look! Look here—” She lifted her bangs, revealing a still-reddened wound on her forehead. “Three days ago, our family had nothing left to eat. My brother was crying from hunger, so I went to borrow some rice from you. Not only did you refuse, but Li Qingfu even pushed me into a wall! I barely survived, and when he saw I wasn’t dead, he went after my brother instead. He’s only eight! How can his heart be so vicious?”

She didn’t give Madam Liu a chance to interrupt and continued wailing, “Father, since you’ve gone, we’ve been bullied so terribly! Come take us with you—we can’t live like this anymore!”

As she cried, real tears streamed down her face—she truly felt wronged and bitter.

Hearing her heartbroken sobs, many village women’s eyes reddened with sympathy.

The fifth great-grandmother scowled and jabbed a finger at Madam Liu. “Liu Guihua! Feel your heart—where’s your conscience gone? You mistreated Laigui since he was little, fine, but now he’s gone and you still torment his widow and children? Aren’t you afraid he’ll come back at night to settle the score?”

People in these times firmly believed that gods watched over every deed. So when Madam Liu heard that, her face turned pale. Without daring to utter another word, she grabbed Li Qingfu and ran off.

“Grandma, don’t go! I dreamed of my father last night—come back, let’s chat!” Li Qingling called out wickedly.

Startled, Madam Liu stumbled and fell flat on her face, but she quickly got up and fled faster than ever—her speed didn’t look like that of an old woman at all.

The fifth great-grandmother sighed and patted Madam Zhao’s shoulder. “Madam Zhao, don’t take it too hard. Things will get better.”

Madam Zhao forced a pale smile. “Thank you, Auntie.”

The old woman nodded, then noticed Liu Zhimou, who had been silent all along. “Oh right, Madam Zhao, you should thank Zhimou. If he hadn’t jumped into the river to pull Qingfeng out, who knows what would’ve happened…”

At that, Madam Zhao hurriedly pulled Qingfeng over and bowed to Liu Zhimou. “Zhimou, Auntie owes you our lives. You’re our family’s great benefactor.”

Qingfeng also said sweetly, “Thank you, Brother Zhimou.”

Flustered, Liu Zhimou quickly helped Madam Zhao up. “Auntie, it was nothing. Anyone would have done the same.” Then he helped Qingfeng to his feet as well.

When his eyes met Li Qingling’s—she was still sitting on the ground, dazed—he hesitated for a moment before finally offering her his hand.

He had stood right next to her when he saved Qingfeng earlier, but she’d been so focused on her brother that she hadn’t even noticed him. When she started performing strange movements over Qingfeng, he’d quietly stepped aside, not wanting to interrupt.

Now, after all her crying and yelling, Li Qingling’s head was still spinning. When a pale hand suddenly appeared before her, she didn’t react at first.

Following the hand upward, she saw a fair, gentle face—Liu Zhimou, her little fiancé.

Then she noticed his soaked clothes and finally recalled what the fifth great-grandmother had said—he was the one who’d pulled Qingfeng out of the water.

Though she was the one who revived Qingfeng, if he hadn’t rescued the boy in time, her brother would’ve truly died.

So yes, Liu Zhimou was indeed their family’s savior.

When she didn’t move, he thought she was shy and began to withdraw his hand—only for her slightly calloused one to grasp it firmly.

He smiled faintly and pulled her up before letting go.

“Brother Zhimou, thank you! You’ve saved our family again,” she said earnestly. It wasn’t an exaggeration—if Qingfeng had died, Madam Zhao wouldn’t have wanted to live either, and then what meaning would there have been for her, a stranger in this world, to keep living?

“You’re welcome,” he said softly, glancing at her. “Let’s head home. Qingfeng might catch a chill.”

Only then did Li Qingling notice her little brother trembling slightly. She crouched down to carry him, but Liu Zhimou stopped her. “You help Auntie walk—leave Qingfeng to me.” With that, he bent down and lifted the boy onto his back.

A man who takes responsibility, she thought. Not a bad fiancé at all.

Smiling faintly, she thanked the fifth great-grandmother and helped Madam Zhao home.

As the remaining villagers watched them leave, the gossip began anew.

“That Zhimou boy’s such a fine-looking one, and so well-read too. If he’d stayed in school, he’d surely have become a scholar by now. What a bargain for that Li Qingling girl,” Aunt Lai sighed.

Aunt Huang chimed in, “Exactly! If I’d known, I would’ve matched my Third Girl to him.”

Aunt Lai shot back, “Your Third Girl? With her looks? How could she ever be worthy of someone like Zhimou?”

Aunt Huang bristled. “And your Mei-zi could?”

The two women bickered on, each belittling the other.

Then someone added softly, “Zhimou’s pitiful too—his parents are gone, and he’s got two younger siblings to raise. Who knows what’ll become of them?”

At that, both women fell silent.

It was true—Liu’s family wasn’t what it used to be. Anyone who married Zhimou would have to help raise his younger brother and sister. That was no easy task.

Suddenly, their hearts filled with sympathy for Li Qingling instead.

Unaware that she’d become the subject of pity, Li Qingling walked on, supporting Madam Zhao. “Mother, does your stomach hurt?” she asked worriedly. After crying so much, could it have affected the baby?

Madam Zhao touched her belly and slowly shook her head. The child was quiet and well-behaved—no discomfort at all.

“Good,” Li Qingling breathed a sigh of relief.

“Elder Sister,” Qingfeng said softly from Liu Zhimou’s back, “I… I won’t go play by the river again. And if I see Li Qingfu, I’ll stay away.” He was truly frightened this time.

Li Qingling patted his head and said calmly, “A gentleman’s revenge can wait ten years.”

“Huh?” Qingfeng looked puzzled.

She smiled and pinched his cheek. “It means—when you’re not strong enough, don’t fight your enemies head-on. Wait until you’re stronger, and then get your revenge. Understand?” She didn’t want this incident to make him timid or fearful for life.

Qingfeng’s eyes lit up, and he nodded hard. “I understand, Sister.”

Li Qingling didn’t know that this simple lesson would become etched into his bones—saving him from countless dangers in the years to come.

“You could also ask Brother Zhimou to teach you to swim,” she added with a glance at Zhimou’s side profile. “That way, if something like this ever happens again, you’ll know how to save yourself.”

“Really?” Qingfeng’s eyes widened. “Sister, can I really learn to swim?” If he had known how, he wouldn’t have almost drowned today.

“I can’t decide that,” she said with a smile. “You’ll have to ask Brother Zhimou. If he agrees, then you can.”

She could swim, and quite well—but in this era, a girl who swam in public would be drowned not by water, but by gossip.

Qingfeng leaned close to Zhimou’s ear, full of hope. “Brother Zhimou, will you teach me how to swim?”