The young man had thick eyebrows and phoenix eyes, with a slightly innocent gaze, his nose perfectly straight, his features not yet defined, but showing early signs of handsoness.
He nervously tugged at his clothes, seeming a bit afraid of her. Without waiting for a response, he timidly spoke again, "Sister-in-law, the al is ready."
The voice entered her ears once more, so real that it made Lin Qiao’s hair stand on end. She suddenly slapped herself, but the sharp pain didn’t wake her up.
So painful.
In the next second, she closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep.
This must be a dream.
Just as her mind was in chaos, soone touched her forehead, and the scorching temperature made her whole body break out in goosebumps.
She opened her eyes abruptly and t the face of the young man, still handso yet overly youthful.
His black, bright eyes looked at her timidly, seemingly both scared and worried.
It was this innocent and handso youth that made Lin Qiao shiver inside, like seeing a ghost!
She reflexively slapped him and shouted in resistance, "Get away from ."
The sound of a slap echoed through the room, silencing the noisy cicadas outside.
Lin Qiao’s hand went numb, and she was stunned, followed by an overwhelming sense of fear inside her.
The youth’s left cheek beca noticeably red, even slightly swollen. His eyes were a little watery as he bit his lower lip, looking very wronged.
He lowered his eyes, his long eyelashes curling densely, withdrawing his hand to his back, he stepped back, "Sister-in-law, I was just afraid you were sick."
"Sister-in-law, I’ll go out."
With that, he turned and ran out of the room. Perhaps because he was in a hurry, he kicked the door sill and stumbled a bit.
Every ti Lin Qiao heard the words "sister-in-law," it felt like a knife of death was approaching her neck.
Although she hadn’t experienced it, just recalling those scenes was enough to terrify her.
Why haven’t I woken up yet? Why am I dreaming of the beginning scene again?
But this ti it was more real than a dream, she clearly saw the black mole under the youth’s eyes, sothing she had never seen clearly before.
And also...
She reached out and pinched the bedsheet, feeling its distinctly rough texture.
Her hand started to tremble, then her body shivered, vaguely understanding sothing.
This wasn’t a dream.
The scenes from the dream flashed vividly, she was far from dead, but close to being half-dead.
She had never encountered such a perverse script in her acting career, the whole script was full of miseries.
The female lead suffers later, the male lead suffers even more in the beginning.
The male lead was raised and beca corrupted, the major corruption point being when he was sold to a brothel as a servant by his sister-in-law to earn money, nearly beaten to death, later disfiguring himself to escape the brothel.
A series of perverse revenge followed.
...
After sorting through her thoughts all afternoon, Lin Qiao overca the fear in her heart and stepped out of the room.
The distant mountains were green, the setting sun cast half of its glow, with a closer look, the dilapidated courtyard, the jujube tree in the corner after a day of scorching sun was half-dead and drooping, yet bore clusters of green dates.
Small, shriveled.
Moving her vision to the side, what ca into view was the youth chopping wood, his sleeves rolled up high, his arm muscles obviously defined and strong, unlike the frail look when the sleeves were down.
Her gaze landed on his face, which still had so traces of innocence, but he no longer had the naïveté of a normal child.
With family mbers passing away one after another, and the harsh treatnt from his widowed sister-in-law, he was more mature than kids in the neighborhood, bearing the responsibility of supporting the family at a young age.
He could have completely established his own household, ignoring the widowed sister-in-law, but unexpectedly, he was excessively affectionate.
If this antagonist had been ruthless and inhuman from the start, maybe he wouldn’t have gone through such perverse things later.
Noticing her gaze, Song Tingfan stopped chopping wood and timidly called out, "Sister-in-law."
Although he now had the appearance of a youthful and handso young man, the image of his sinister and twisted face couldn’t be erased.
Lin Qiao instinctively resisted the term "sister-in-law," but had to bravely respond, "Mm."
If this wasn’t a dream, she absolutely couldn’t cause the tragedy that follows.
Rembering the perverted experiences the female lead suffered from revenge made her shiver uncontrollably.
But first, she needed to know how far the plot had developed?
What does Song Tingfan think of his sister-in-law now?
She rembered dreaming that it started in a certain year’s hot sumr, beginning with the sister-in-law’s violent beating of the younger brother-in-law.
Has the beating happened? Or not?
The trouble was she had no mory of her original self.
Suddenly Lin Qiao’s eyes lit up, she rembered during the beating, Song Tingfan’s back head was hit by a wooden stick and bled heavily.
She needed to verify.
She looked up at the young man, and after a while, gently probed, "Little Uncle, there’s sothing in your hair, co over and let pinch it away."
The youth was stunned for a mont by his sister-in-law’s kindness, then awkwardly raised his hand to randomly touch his head.
Seeing he wouldn’t co over, Lin Qiao took the initiative to walk over. Just as she was about to raise her hand, perhaps Song Tingfan had been hit too many tis, he instinctively stepped back, his expression extrely resistant and afraid.
Lin Qiao had a bad premonition, she grabbed his wrist, stood on tiptoe, right now Song Tingfan was not much taller than her, roughly about 1.7 ters.
She parted his thick black hair, seeing the large patch of scar at the root of his hair, her heart sank with a thud.
It was over.
The beating had already happened.
Song Tingfan waited for a while, without the expected beating. He was taken aback, his peripheral vision catching sight of the woman beside him, her almond eyes slightly drooping. From this angle, her thick black lashes were distinct.
His eyes slightly lowered, inadvertently landing on her fair neck.
Realizing what he was looking at, he hastily moved back awkwardly, nervously saying, "Sister-in-law, I... I’ll do it myself."
Lin Qiao saw his reluctance to her, thinking it had planted a seed of hatred.
Absolutely not.
It mustn’t sprout!
She bit her lip, her eyes slightly lowered, apologized with guilt, "Little Uncle, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have hit you."
She paused for a mont, her voice trembling slightly, "Your brother... husband passed away, and the parents-in-law too... I feel terrible, ntally unstable, unable to control my emotions."
"Little Uncle, I’m sorry, it’s my fault."
For the atmosphere, she raised her hand and slapped herself, a crisp "slap" sound, her face turning red.
Lin Qiao thought to herself, this might be the most authentic face-slapping scene she’s ever acted.
Song Tingfan didn’t expect her to hit herself, stunned for a mont, then quickly waved his hand, shaking his head, "Sister-in-law, I don’t bla you."
"Little Uncle, I know you bla , and I don’t know how to make it up, I promise never to hit you again."
Lin Qiao lowered her head and wiped her eyes, quickly raising red-rimd eyes, "Little Uncle, hit back, otherwise, I can’t get over it."
After saying this, she felt weak, if the antagonist slapped her, would she be left alive?
Twelve-year-old Song Tingfan still had a deep respect for elders, believing in "eldest brother is like a father, eldest sister-in-law like a mother."
Elders are not to be offended.
Later on, he didn’t hold back in "offending" either.
He hastily explained, "Sister-in-law, I really don’t bla you."
Not knowing what more to say, he added, "Sister-in-law, I’ll get you so food."
With that, he rushed off to the kitchen.
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