Although Wang Xiu's parents and siblings were still alive, several of her cousins of the same generation as He Manshu had passed away in recent years. This was due to the hard times—many had fallen ill, and the resulting deaths were a natural disaster that couldn't be helped.
Glancing at the people around her, He Manshu calmly waited for the meal to begin.
These days, hepatitis and edema were rampant. Edema alone wasn't too concerning, but if anyone in the Wang family had hepatitis, she definitely wouldn't dare eat with them—hepatitis was contagious, after all.
Although she wasn't particularly afraid of hepatitis, getting infected would still be a huge hassle.
Fortunately, most members of the Wang family just looked dark-skinned and thin, or had mild swelling. From their complexion, it didn't seem like hepatitis, which reassured her. While you couldn't diagnose early hepatitis just from skin color, He Manshu, who had studied traditional Chinese medicine before being transported into this book, had a sharp enough eye for basic diagnostics.
The Wang family courtyard was big enough for the entire family to sit and eat, but the table was too small for everyone to sit at once.
So He Manshu, the three aunts, and her cousin Caizhi had to sit at a makeshift table made by placing a plank of wood beside the main table. In the Wang family, daughters-in-law and granddaughters weren't allowed to sit at the main table—this was the rule.
To He Manshu, this rule was utter nonsense—a leftover from feudal society.
The Qing Dynasty had long since collapsed, yet the Wang family still insisted on separate seating for men and women—just an excuse for mothers-in-law to assert authority over daughters-in-law.
As for why Wang Xiu, a woman, could sit at the main table—it was because she was Old Madam Wang's youngest daughter, the beloved baby girl. You couldn't reason with favoritism. Also, Wang Xiu had poor health, which made her an exception.
Staring at the only dish of old pickled vegetables on the makeshift table, He Manshu's eyes briefly flashed with impatience.
She didn't care about having a seat at the main table or what she ate—what she cared about was when Old Madam Wang would start serving food. Yes, serving food! That was necessary in this era.
Food was scarce, so every meal had to be carefully portioned. With limited food, the amount cooked each day had to be rationed, and so did each meal.
Serving food was Old Madam Wang's duty. In traditional households like the Wangs, the man worked outside while the woman managed the home.
There was no food on the makeshift table—all of it was on the main table. In the center was a large enamel basin, about the size of a washbasin, filled with sweet potato porridge. The sweet potatoes were thick and the rice grains visible, a result of food shortages. If they weren't careful, they might not have any grain left before the autumn harvest.
To be safe, Old Madam Wang had made a rule: no more than two liang (about 100g) of rice per meal. Not a single grain more.
When there wasn't enough rice, people had to rely on vegetables—common in the 1960s.
The Wang family had many able-bodied workers, so they earned more labor points and could still eat sweet potato porridge. Other families were already eating "bean and gourd rice"—which had beans and gourds but no actual rice. Still, as long as there was food to fill their stomachs, people were satisfied. In other places, people were already starving to death.
Old Madam Wang was biased, of course, giving more food to the core family members. By the time it was He Manshu's turn, the porridge she received was mostly liquid with very little sweet potato. She didn't argue, mostly because she had no time to.
By her calculations, Li Yufang was about to retaliate, so He Manshu quickly began eating while she had the chance.
There was nothing more important than eating.
She had expected the food to be horrible given the era's cooking standards—but she had underestimated the power of organic food.
The sweet potatoes used in the porridge were a golden-red variety, low in starch but incredibly sweet. With just one bite, the sweetness of the sweet potato blended with the fragrance of rice and conquered her taste buds instantly.
Delicious. Truly delicious.
Having never tasted this kind of sweet potato porridge before, He Manshu instinctively began eating faster.
As she dug in, the rest of the Wang family also began to eat. Just then, a piercing wailing came from the west side of the village. It grew louder and closer, and soon the Wang family began to catch fragments like "murder," "pay with your life."
What was going on now?
Who was causing trouble?
Just as everyone paused mid-bite and looked toward the door, the commotion arrived right at their gate.
In rural homes, doors were usually open during the day, so the Wang family immediately saw Wang Fugui and his mother surrounded by a crowd. At the sight of them, everyone in the Wang family instinctively frowned.
They were so ugly.
That Wang Goudan was just too ugly—ugly enough to ruin one's appetite.
At that moment, Old Madam Wang was in a foul mood. Just sitting at home eating, and someone dared to stir up trouble—did they think she was a pushover?
Her anger deepened the wrinkles on her face.
Almost seventy years old, her skin was already lined like tree bark. When she scowled, she looked especially intimidating.
In her youth, she was not someone to be messed with. Wang Fugui's mother was also a fierce and tough woman. When the two locked eyes, an eerie silence fell over the crowd—everyone anticipated an explosive catfight.
After all, outside of labor, villagers had little entertainment. So now that something exciting was happening, they forgot about food and rushed to watch.
While Old Madam Wang and Wang Fugui's mother eyed each other, He Manshu didn't stop eating. Every bite counted. Today, she planned to deal with the troublemakers Wang Fugui and Li Yufang once and for all—and she needed strength to do it.
The only person in the Wang family who didn't seem to mind Wang Fugui's mother was Wang Xiu.
Seeing them show up, she immediately guessed it was Li Yufang's doing. She didn't know what scheme they had planned, but that didn't stop her from playing along. "Fugui's mother, what's going on?"
At her words, the woman's eyes lit up, and she waddled inside, heading straight for Old Madam Wang.
Her loud voice echoed in the courtyard, "Aunt Cuixiang, you have to stand up for my Fugui! Today he was almost drowned by that girl of yours—how can someone be so vicious? My Fugui is the only son I have. If anything happens to him, how can I face his father in the afterlife? Oh, Aunt Cuixiang, you must help this poor widow and orphan!"
Putting on quite the performance, she immediately framed herself and her son as victims.
A clever move—taking the initiative to claim the moral high ground.
Everyone in the Wang family was stunned. What? That ugly brat scared the educated youth into the river, and now they're blaming Manshu?
Impossible!
It was well known that it was Wang Goudan's hideous face that scared the educated youth into the water. Several women like Niu Chunhua had witnessed it, and they'd already spread the full story in vivid detail while everyone was busy rescuing the victim.
The evidence was undeniable.
Everyone knew how terrifying Wang Goudan's face was—it could make children cry and even frighten adults at night. That's why he usually stayed out of sight, and when he did go out, he wore a straw hat to hide his face.
People believed his face could scare someone into the river—but to accuse Manshu of trying to drown him? Who could believe that?
Before the Wang family could speak up, a villager who had long disliked Wang Fugui's mother shouted, "Come on now, Fugui's mother, have some shame. Just look at your Goudan—he's huge! How could a little girl like Manshu drown him? With what? Spit? You're clearly trying to extort the orphan! Her father saved this whole village, including you and your ugly son!"
"Bullshit! So what if my Fugui's big? That doesn't mean he can't drown!"
Widows often fiercely defended their children, right or wrong. Fugui's mother was no different—she believed her son unconditionally.
Ugly or not, he was still her child—and she'd protect him.
Seeing the hostility in the woman's eyes, He Manshu stood up, "Auntie, who told you I tried to drown Wang Fugui?"
"Who? Of course, my son told me."
Glaring at He Manshu's pretty face, Fugui's mother spoke through clenched teeth. What use was beauty if you weren't her daughter-in-law? Her precious only son meant the world to her. Anyone who threatened him had to pay.
If not for He Manshu's frail appearance, she would've slapped her already.
Seeing through the malice, He Manshu smiled, "Since Wang Fugui told you I tried to drown him, I'd like to ask him a few questions."
"Ask away. What, you think we're afraid?"
But when she turned around, she had to search for her son. Finally, villagers pointed her toward the gate.
There, Wang Fugui was crouched on the ground, hugging his head. His straw hat was gone, and a few kids were pelting him with small stones. Fugui's mother shooed them away, furious and heartbroken, and dragged her son forward.
Facing He Manshu, tall and poised, Wang Fugui suddenly clutched his stomach in pain.
That was how he'd felt when she kicked him into the river.
Used to lurking in shadows, he was completely unaccustomed to being in the spotlight. Embarrassed and uncomfortable, he quickly looked down and recalled the humiliations at the river—being kicked in, blacking out, his pants being pulled down by the educated youth, and everything else…
He lowered his head even further.
Seeing his bald scalp, He Manshu suppressed the urge to kick him again, "Wang Fugui, you said I tried to drown you. We have no grudge—why would I do that?"
He had no answer. Which meant he was lying.
"I... I..." Wang Fugui stammered, overwhelmed.
"I'll make it easier," He Manshu continued. "You say I tried to drown you—how did I do it?"
Anyone can dig a trap. She was confident.
"You kicked me into the river."
"I kicked you into the river?"
He Manshu smiled and shifted her long legs slightly. Although everyone wore rough homespun clothes in this era, her tall figure was still obvious.
Everyone stared at her legs, then at Wang Fugui's big body, and their expressions darkened.
Now they really knew what it meant to lie through one's teeth.
Even Fugui's mother started to doubt it. Could that slim girl really kick a boy twice her size into the river?
It sounded more and more fake.
He Manshu added fuel to the fire, "Let's say I did kick you in. But you know how to swim—how could you drown? Couldn't you get up?"
"You... you kicked me unconscious. You wanted to drown me."
"Did you die?"
Fugui froze. No—he was alive, standing right there in the courtyard.
"Tsk!"
The crowd jeered in unison. Someone even laughed, "Unconscious? Kicked unconscious? Haha, Wang Goudan, why don't you say you were dreaming?"
"I didn't lie!" Fugui panicked. Lifting his head, he saw countless eyes filled with disgust, like they were looking at a rat in a sewer—harsh and real.
"Mama, I didn't lie, please believe me!"
Clinging to his mother, he was like a drowning man grabbing a straw.
"Fugui, don't worry, Mama believes you. I really do."
Even though she didn't believe the story anymore, she still stood by her son.
Watching the two get torn apart by He Manshu's words, Wang Xiu was furious. What a wasted opportunity! "Fugui's mother, how dare you show up here without any proof? Are you saying we Wangs are pushovers?"
"Bullshit! What proof? My Fugui is the proof!"
Wang Xiu had wanted her to bring actual witnesses—but the woman completely missed the point.
Blinded by maternal instinct, Fugui's mother exploded again. Just thinking about her son nearly drowning made her raise her broad palm toward He Manshu's face.
But He Manshu was ready.
As the slap came, she staggered to the side and "accidentally" bumped into Wang Xiu.
Smack!
The slap landed squarely on Wang Xiu's face, leaving five clear fingerprints.
And it didn't stop there. The force of the slap knocked Wang Xiu straight into the main table behind her.
Crash! Bang!
The entire courtyard erupted in chaos. When the dust settled, sweet potato porridge was splattered on the ground like sewage.
There was no way to eat it now.
Furious, Old Madam Wang began to tremble, her lips quivering, and then she exploded, "You bitch! You dare hit my daughter and knock over our food? You're f*cking dead!"
In an astonishing display of agility, she charged at Fugui's mother.
Old Madam Wang moved—and the rest of the family followed.
In an instant, the courtyard turned into a battlefield.
For people who were always hungry, destroying food was more than enough reason for a fight.