I winked at the aunts and uncle's wife, lowering my voice like I was sharing a state secret:
"As for my mom, well, she just didn't want to worry you all. Let's just pretend nothing happened today, okay?"
The old ladies exchanged glances, their eyes sparkling with mischief. I knew my plan had worked - these women could spread gossip faster than a viral meme.
Sure enough, the next morning, Mr. Zhang's phone started ringing off the hook.
Even from the hallway, I could hear the screeching voices through the receiver—calling him a cheater, scolding his taste in women, and throwing in a few creative insults for good measure.
I slipped out of the apartment, munching sunflower seeds in the stairwell, and pulled up the living room camera feed on my phone.
There was Mr. Zhang, red-faced with rage, finally snapping at Madam Wang .
"Chen Guifang, who the hell are you fooling?"
"You wanna know why I cheat? Because I can't stand your fake act anymore!"
"Don't think I don't know, it was you who drove away Zhou Fan's last three wives!"
"You just want this whole family to revolve around you, and no one else can ever threaten your throne!"
"I'm warning you.....keep your nose out of my business from now on. Try it again and I'll divorce you!"
He stormed out, leaving Madam Wang collapsed on the floor, pounding the sofa and grinding her teeth, chanting my name like she was summoning a demon.
If looks could kill, I'd be a ghost haunting the apartment by now.
But two defeats weren't enough for her. She was already plotting her next move, and I could practically smell the scheming in the air.
Well, if she wanted a showdown, I was ready.
I splurged on several top-of-the-line square-dancing speakers and handed them out to the grannies in our community.
They were over the moon, and so was I.
After all, those speakers would come in handy soon, when it was time for the whole neighborhood to enjoy the juiciest gossip in town.
This time, I was going to treat everyone to the biggest melon feast ever!
Ever since the cheating scandal, Mr. Zhang barely came home.
Madam Wang grew quieter, but she kept giving me the evil eye, like she was trying to set me on fire with her glare.
A few times she stormed up to me, ready to start something, but Zhou Fan always came home at just the right moment, forcing her to swallow her words.
One day, Zhou Fan was away on a business trip. I was sprawled on the sofa, scrolling on my phone, just me and Madam Wang alone in the apartment.
She marched over, snatched my phone, and turned it off without a word.
I didn't even flinch. Who says you need a phone to record a good show?
Madam Wang loomed over me, her face twisted with hatred.
"Xu Xiaoyan, you must feel so smug after beating me twice, huh?"
She sneered, "You think just because you married Zhou Fan, you two will live happily ever after?
If I could make him divorce three times, I can make it four.
And I promise, when I'm done with you, your reputation will be so trashed you'll never get married again!"
I lowered my head, hiding the icy glint in my eyes, and put on my best trembling, pitiful act.
"Mom, what are you saying? You're just joking, right?"
She raised her chin, giving me a sideways glance.
"Zhou Fan's three ex-wives? Not a single one has remarried. Even the local matchmaker agencies won't take their business.
Because once a daughter-in-law is labeled 'unfilial' and gets divorced by her mother-in-law, she's considered trash.
But the truth? All three were actually very filial. I made sure they ended up like that."
Maybe she was too angry, or maybe she just wanted to scare me, but she started bragging about her evil deeds like a Bond villain.
She told me how she tormented each ex-daughter-in-law, starting with the first, Xiao Zhang.
When Xiao Zhang was pregnant, Madam Wang lovingly made her a bowl of meat soup, coaxed her to finish every drop, then revealed the truth:
The meat was from Xiao Zhang's beloved pheasant which she'd raised for three years.
"Home-raised pheasant taste so much better than those from the market. Tender and juicy!
My daughter-in-law sobbed for three days straight—her face was so swollen, she looked like a steamed bun.
But did I comfort her? Of course not! I told everyone she was ungrateful for my 'nourishing soup.'"
She cackled, clearly proud of herself, while I sat there, pretending to tremble, but secretly taking mental notes for my future memoir:
"How to Outsmart a Wicked Mother-in-Law: A Survival Guide."