Chapter 6: Divorce, take her and get out!

"Laughable. Did you really think I was just blowing hot air when I threatened to report you?" Song Wenran's volume rose sharply. "Where do you get the nerve to just open your mouth and decide to snatch away my job and destroy my life?"

Her questioning was laced with long-simmering resentment. She had once believed that securing a job would be her ticket out of the fate of being sent to the countryside, but she had underestimated her biological father’s ruthlessness and Wen Xin’s insatiable greed. This was Wen Xin’s specialty: manipulating others with just a few well-chosen words.

Lu Meiqin, pushed to the edge, stormed out of the communal hallway kitchen clutching a meat cleaver. "Song Jianshe, is that even human language coming out of your mouth? Wenran is your daughter! What do you take her for? Don't think that just because my daughter is sensible, you can bully her however you like!"

Song Jianshe’s first instinct was to shield Wen Xin. Fearing Lu Meiqin might actually strike, he stammered, "Put the knife down! I was just saying it. You can't just trade a job like it’s a piece of clothing!"

Lu Meiqin pointed the cleaver at him. "Thinking it is already too much! Ranran is my bottom line. You want to protect Wen Xin? Fine. I agree to a divorce. Take her and get out!"

Hearing the word "divorce" sent a jolt through Song Wenran. When they had discussed their strategy earlier, her mother hadn't mentioned divorce once, which showed she still held some hope for the marriage. Now, Song Jianshe had completely shattered that hope.

Wen Xin, secretly delighted that they were discussing divorce, feigned tears. "Mom, it’s all my fault. Don't blame Dad, and please don't divorce him. Dad only said that because he cares about me so much. Don't be mad at him—if you have to be mad, be mad at me!"

The mention of how much he "cared" for her only fueled Lu Meiqin’s rage. "You’re no good either! Who else should I blame but you?"

Song Jianshe’s brow furrowed so deeply it could have crushed a fly. "Lu Meiqin, why must you always act like a child? Xin-xin is family. We should be helping her get through this difficult time. Why are you so bent on tearing this home apart?"

"Is pushing me into a fire pit what you call helping her?" Song Wenran retorted. "Ever since she came into this house, you’ve made me give up everything for her. She gets better food and clothes than I do; she even gets more pocket money. And on top of that, you’ve been secretly giving her extra. Have you ever considered how I feel? Those were trifles, and I could ignore them, but a job and being sent to the countryside are matters of my entire life, and you’re helping her steal them! Just because I don't speak up doesn't mean I’m blind or stupid! You’re the one tearing this family apart! Have you ever cared about how much I’ve suffered, or how much my mother has endured? You’re good to Wen Xin, to your younger brother and his wife, to Grandma—you’re the 'good guy' to everyone in the world, except to your own wife and daughter! Whose family are you actually a part of?"

With nowhere to vent his own frustration, Song Jianshe roared back at her, "Enough! Haven't I been good to you? Where do you think your food and clothes come from? I’m the one earning it all! Look at yourself now—where is that obedient, sensible girl you used to be? If you were just obedient and went to the countryside for Xin-xin, none of this would be happening! Why are you making such a scene? Your mother is waving a meat cleaver, and instead of stopping her, you’re fanning the flames! Do you have any shred of filial piety? I raised you for nothing—you don't know how to help the family, only how to cause trouble! You’re the older sister; it’s only natural for you to yield to Xin-xin. What is there to complain about? It seems I’ve been too lenient with you. Spare the rod and spoil the child! I was respecting you by discussing it, but don't think you can do anything if I decide not to! I’m making the call today: the job goes to Xin-xin, and you’re going to the countryside! A little hardship will do you good and straighten out your attitude!"

"Song Jianshe, you bastard!" Lu Meiqin’s temper exploded, and with a sharp *thwack*, she buried the cleaver into the table. Had Song Jianshe not ducked, it would have severed his arm. He stood there, heart pounding, gasping, "Have you lost your mind?"

"I have! Song Jianshe, I’m giving you two choices. One: divorce. I take Ranran, you take Wen Xin. Two: we don't divorce, but Wen Xin goes to the countryside and moves her household registration out of our home. I can maintain the appearance of a marriage so you can become the workshop director, but stay away from Ranran. Everything of hers has nothing to do with you!"

Lu Meiqin’s demand for a divorce wasn't a rash impulse; she had always been thinking of her daughter. Now that her daughter shared the same realization, she decided to cast all caution to the wind. "Song Jianshe, I’ve had enough of this 'living widow' life. Give me an answer now!"

Song Jianshe was so infuriated his head throbbed. That comment about a "living widow" made it sound as if he were impotent! His face turned crimson, his neck veins bulging.

It was the hour when people were coming home from work, and the hallway was filling up. They were all colleagues and neighbors; they saw each other every day. Usually, they wouldn't pay any mind to domestic squabbles—most were used to it and couldn't be bothered to watch, while others had grown numb. But there were always a few who lived for the drama, using the pretense of cooking to eavesdrop. With the recent, unavoidable issue of being sent to the countryside, and now the mention of divorce, everyone’s curiosity was piqued. That phrase, "living widow," had truly hooked them.

Hearing footsteps approaching, Song Jianshe hurriedly slammed the door shut, effectively blocking out the prying eyes and ears. He calmed down, thinking to himself that Lu Meiqin couldn't possibly mean the divorce; it was just a tactic to force Wen Xin to the countryside. Threats were one thing, but this was a critical moment in his bid for the workshop director position—he absolutely could not afford a divorce.

"Stop this nonsense!" he muttered sullenly. "What divorce? Do you want the neighbors to laugh at us? As if the issue of the countryside isn't enough of a headache, you just have to keep stirring the pot!"