Chapter 13: Cruel Mistreatment

Village Chief Song coughed to change the subject: "Daping, I went to your house just now and told those three fools that the matter of the corvée labor needs to be decided soon. The town is coming to collect people the day after tomorrow. If the list is submitted but the people don't show up, there will be penalties."

Hearing the word "corvée," Song Zhenping nodded with a numb expression: "Village Chief, my second uncle and grandmother are the ones who make the decisions in my house."

Village Chief Song sighed. He had only brought it up to have something to say.

Even he, as the village chief, dared not interfere in the affairs of Song Lao'er's household; how could these two children possibly have a say?

Feeling a pang of guilt and wanting to show a bit more concern, he saw that the little "woodpile" beside him could no longer stand, so he could only wave his hand: "You two hurry back! Don't overexert yourselves!"

"Yes!"

Song Zhenping gave a soft response, lowered his head, tightened the shoulder straps on his back with one hand, and used the other to help his younger brother lift the hook rope on the woodpile, hoping to save his brother some effort.

The two brothers wobbled as they started back toward their home again.

Watching their retreating backs, Village Chief Song let out another long sigh and shook his head helplessly.

They say even an honest official finds it hard to settle family disputes.

Song Lao'er's family committed constant petty evils but no major crimes; they couldn't be reported to the authorities, and the law couldn't be applied.

And they were stuck with that shameless step-grandmother who kept claiming she had an "illicit affair" with him.

If he, as the village chief, paid too much attention to Song Lao'er's family, he would be drowned in the spit of the villagers. He couldn't even dodge them fast enough, let alone dare to interfere.

The two children had an uncle and a grandmother, a house and land, yet their lives were harder than the beggars in town. It was truly a pity for the eldest branch of the Song family.

Once the two brothers left, the onlookers emerged again. They dared to joke with the village chief, but they dared not provoke the shameless and reckless Old Woman Gu.

Over the years, whenever anyone in the village tried to speak a word of justice for the eldest branch of the Song family, Old Madam Gu and Young Madam Gu would rush to their doorstep, cursing and making a scene, throwing feces and urine, stopping at nothing.

People avoided such people, who were like dog excrement—you couldn't hit them, and you couldn't out-curse them.

This left the people of Xiaoshi Village, no matter how much they sympathized, to hide whenever they saw the two brothers from the eldest branch, for fear of drawing the curses of those two shrews.

Seeing that the village chief hadn't left yet, someone asked boldly: "Fifth Uncle, has Song Defu's family said who is going for the corvée this time?"

Everyone knew that in the whole village, only Song Defu hadn't pressed his fingerprint yet; it was obvious he was trying to shirk his duty.

The village chief was already annoyed. Hearing the man ask about this again, he glared and said: "This is official business for the imperial court. Even the King of Heaven couldn't dodge it. If you don't provide a person, you pay the money. Someone will deal with him eventually."

After saying this, he spat on the ground and turned to leave with his hands behind his back, but he was stopped by someone else asking another question, forcing him to pause.

In the Song family courtyard, seeing the main room door tightly shut, the brothers quietly went to the side of the woodpile, afraid of disturbing the family.

The second aunt hated little brother Song Zhen'an the most; whenever she heard his voice, she would start beating him.

Song Zhenping first helped his brother unload the firewood before untying the shoulder straps from his own back.

His spine, bent from the heavy load, suddenly relaxed. The soreness made his vision go black, and he nearly fell, quickly grabbing the woodpile to steady himself.

"Brother, Brother!" Beside him, Song Zhen'an, who was gasping for air, held onto him and whispered, his little face deathly pale with worry.

Song Zhenping sat down to steady his mind, then shook his head at his worried younger brother: "It's nothing, brother is just tired. I'll go inside after a rest."

Yesterday morning, Grandmother had only given them two hard steamed buns before driving him and his brother out to chop wood, saying they weren't allowed back until they had chopped ten loads.

The wood around the village had mostly been cleared; to find good wood to sell, one had to travel far.

Chopping ten loads would take at least five days.

Two days had already passed. He had given his own dry rations to his brother, and he hadn't eaten for three meals; he was starving to the point of collapse.

Then he encountered someone bringing a message that something had happened at home and he needed to return immediately. The messenger said it was his grandmother's word, so Song Zhenping had hurriedly packed his things and returned.

He felt uneasy; the wood wasn't finished, and being called back now surely meant nothing good.

The nights were already cold this season; he didn't know how long he and his brother would be forced to kneel this time.

As the brothers were talking, the door to the main room opened, and Old Madam Gu rushed toward the woodpile like a whirlwind, carrying a door-bar.

Before Song Zhenping, who was sitting on the woodpile, could stand up, Old Woman Gu began to curse: "You crippled wretch, did you steal a steamed bun yesterday morning?"

Song Zhen'an trembled with fear, shrinking beside his older brother without a sound. He remembered that when they left yesterday morning, his brother had secretly slipped him half a mixed-grain bun.

Song Zhenping said weakly: "Grandmother, two buns weren't enough to eat. Xiao An is still young, he couldn't handle the hunger, and he had to go up the mountain to chop wood, so I gave him an extra half a bun."

Old Madam Gu rolled her eyes and cursed: "Bullshit! You little beast, lying! When have you ever been short of food at home? You're just stealing.

I'm not your real grandmother, so you're deliberately ruining my reputation outside. See if I don't beat you two disasters to death."

As she spoke, she swung the door-bar and charged at Song Zhenping's head.

Song Zhenping was exhausted; he didn't even have the strength to stand up and dodge, let alone fight back.

Watching the arm-thick wooden club smash toward him, he could only raise his arms to protect his head and face.

Just then, Song Zhen'an, without a sound, lunged forward, using his own body to block the stick, murmuring: "I ate the bun, don't hit my brother!"

"Thud!"

"Ugh!"

Song Zhen'an took the blow on his thin back. His face turned deathly pale instantly, and unable to catch his breath, he slid limply to the ground.

Old Madam Gu had been planning to beat Song Zhenping hard. After all, he was a nineteen-year-old young man; if he fought back, she, an old woman, couldn't take it, so she had waited until he was exhausted and unable to resist.

She had put her full strength into that blow, wanting to leave Song Zhenping bloody so that Song Liyun would know who was in charge of this house.

She hadn't expected Song Zhen'an to jump in to protect him.

"Little brother!"

Song Zhenping cried out in alarm. He stumbled to his feet and hugged Song Zhen'an, patting his chest vigorously.

Fortunately, after a few moments, Song Zhen'an let out a wail.

If Song Liyun's weakness was the two brothers, then Song Zhenping's pain was this younger brother he had raised with his own hands.

He could endure hunger and beatings, but he could never let anyone bully his little brother. Old Woman Gu's blow had completely enraged Song Zhenping; hot blood rushed to his brain.

He had endured this life for ten years, struggling on the edge of life and death every day. Today, he was the one who should have been beaten, but his little brother had taken it. What about tomorrow? What would happen tomorrow?

Song Zhenping placed the sobbing Song Zhen'an by the woodpile, then suddenly grabbed Old Woman Gu by the collar. His eyes were bloodshot as he gritted his teeth: "You old hag, Xiao An and I work every day, we don't get enough to eat or wear, and we still get beaten and cursed by you at will.

I want to rip open your heart and see if it's made of flesh. Why are you so cruel? Why must you abuse us?"

Seeing Song Zhenping, who had only ever endured beatings since he was a child, suddenly looking like he was ready to fight to the death, Old Woman Gu shrank back in terror.

However, she hadn't been beating people for just a day or two; it had become second nature to her.

At this moment, she didn't even hear what Song Zhenping was saying. She just stretched her neck and shrieked: "The grandson is hitting his grandmother! You heaven-forsaken beast, help! He's killing me! Lao'er! Lao'er, come save your mother!"