Mu Shi’an sat silently to the side, weaving a fishing net.

“Shi’an, even though you’re married now, remember—you’ll always be the eldest son of the Mu family, the older brother to your sister. You mustn’t side with an outsider over your own sister.” Mu’s mother prattled on, oblivious to Mu Shi’an’s mood.

Mu Shi’an tightened his grip on the fishing line, swallowing the words he wanted to say.

His family demanded he yield at every turn, sacrificing himself to provide for others.

But Song Nianchu—that “outsider”—would tell him, “You must feed yourself first.”

“…”

Meanwhile, Song Nianchu had already made her way up the mountain, a machete in hand. With a single swing, a bamboo stalk fell cleanly.

The men nearby watched enviously as she effortlessly demonstrated her formidable strength.

Song Nianchu earned full work points with ease, while they had to exert twice the effort just to scrape by—often falling short.

It was no wonder their wives scolded them daily, yanking their ears and berating them for being outdone by a woman.

Some nights, they weren’t even allowed into bed.

What misery!

If only they had her strength.

“I’m heading down first,” Song Nianchu said, unaware of their grievances, as she dragged several large bamboo stalks down the mountain.

The men grunted in response, quickening their pace.

Any slower, and they’d face another earful from their wives.

Humming a tune, Song Nianchu leisurely descended with her haul when she spotted two small figures on the distant beach.

At first, she paid them little mind.

Children in Qinghe Fishing Village often played on the shore, digging for tiny fish or crabs to keep as pets.

But after a few steps, she noticed the figures edging closer to the water—with no intention of stopping.

They were young, and the tide was rising. A single wave could drag them under, and they’d never have the strength to fight it.

Without hesitation, Song Nianchu dropped the bamboo and sprinted down the slope, racing toward the beach.

By then, Mu Yongnian and Mu Haoxuan were already wading deeper, each clutching a battered bucket as they scoured the sand.

“Third Brother, can we really catch fish? I’m so hungry…” Mu Haoxuan rubbed his belly.

“Don’t worry, we will!” Mu Yongnian reassured him gently.

“Third Brother, why does Second Sister get to eat meat while we only get sweet potatoes?” Mu Haoxuan pouted.

That afternoon, their mother had stir-fried a plate of meat—serving most of it to their father and the rest to their sister. He hadn’t been allowed a single bite.

Even now, the memory made his mouth water.

“Second Sister is a girl. She needs meat to stay healthy,” Mu Yongnian said, swallowing hard.

“But we’re kids! Shouldn’t we need meat more to grow?” Mu Haoxuan wasn’t buying it.

Back in Jing City, their family’s wealth had masked the favoritism.

But now, exiled to this village, limited resources made the unfairness glaring.

Mu Haoxuan used to think nothing of yielding to his sister. Now, it didn’t sit right.

She was older—shouldn’t she be the one looking out for them?

Other families made the elders give way to the younger.

“Look, a fish!” Spotting a finger-length fish, Mu Yongnian lunged—just as a wave crashed over him.

Dizzy and disoriented, he was swept into the churning water.

“Third Brother!” Mu Haoxuan rushed to pull him back, but he was smaller and weaker. Instead of saving him, he too was dragged in.

Another wave swallowed them whole.

They thrashed desperately, but the adults were all working, oblivious to their struggle.

Gulping seawater, their vision blurred, their movements slowed—

Then, like a divine savior, Song Nianchu charged in, hauling them both ashore in one swift motion.

Coughing violently, they collapsed onto the sand.

“You okay?” Song Nianchu asked, concerned.

“Y-yeah…” Mu Yongnian wheezed, lifting his head to thank her—then froze.

“It’s you?”

“You’re from the Mu family, right?” Song Nianchu studied them. These faces were unfamiliar; the only household in Qinghe Fishing Village she didn’t know well was the Mu family.

“Yeah,” Mu Yongnian admitted.

This was the woman who’d married their eldest brother.

“My bucket… my fish…” Mu Haoxuan, now recovered, wailed, inconsolable.

No fish meant no meat.

“Shh, don’t cry. I’ll catch another one,” Mu Yongnian soothed, though his reassurances were clumsy and repetitive.

“You came here to fish?” Song Nianchu asked softly.

Mu Haoxuan sniffled. “I wanted meat… I’m sick of sweet potatoes. Third Brother said we could catch fish and roast them…”

“You didn’t grow up here. The tides are dangerous if you’re not strong swimmers,” she warned.

“But I want meat…” Mu Haoxuan’s eyes were red-rimmed, pitiful.

“Your mother didn’t give you any?” Song Nianchu frowned.

She’d paid Mu’s mother 200 yuan as a bride price. Surely the children deserved a decent meal.

“Second Sister ate it all.” The reminder set off fresh tears.

“Second Sister? Mu Jingmei?”

“No! He’s lying!” Mu Yongnian clapped a hand over his brother’s mouth, afraid Song Nianchu would report this to their eldest brother.

But Song Nianchu wasn’t fooled. Kneeling to meet their eyes, she said, “Liars never get to eat meat again.”

Mu Yongnian, older, knew better—but Mu Haoxuan, just five, panicked.

“I’m not lying! Mama gave all the meat to Second Sister! We only got a little broth… I wanted meat too!”

“Is it always like this at home?” Song Nianchu asked gently, ruffling Mu Haoxuan’s hair.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep