EHCR 2

The Encyclopedic Harvest: Cultivating Riches in Lean Years

Chapter 2: Because You Have No Shame

"Ah!" Sun Xiuhe tried to snap back, but the moment she opened her mouth, she accidentally swallowed a mouthful of slimy mud.

Grossed out to the point of rolling her eyes, she backed up step by step, clutching the wall and retching, "Blech, blech!"

By this time, Song Dachuan was no longer in the courtyard; he had likely gone back to toil in the fields.

The stifling wrath pent up in her chest was finally vented, leaving her feeling wonderfully refreshed.

Ignoring Sun Xiuhe, Song Zhaodi prepared to boil some water for a thorough bath.

However, just as she reached the water vat by the corner of the courtyard, a soft, sugary female voice rang out from the front gate.

"Zhaodi, are you home?" "Oh my! Zhaodi's grandma, what happened to you?"

Following closely behind, a flash of pink rushed into the yard, freezing in her tracks the moment she caught sight of Sun Xiuhe's mud-caked face and mouth.

"Mei—Meifeng... urk..."

Sun Xiuhe grabbed hold of Jiang Meifeng, wanting to say something, but the moment she parted her lips, she swallowed several more mouthfuls of mud, gagging so violently she began frantically clawing at her own throat.

Splattering filth sprayed outward, several dark droplets landing squarely on the hem of Jiang Meifeng's dress.

Seeing this, Jiang Meifeng hastily stepped back multiple times, the fake concern on her face instantly replaced by sheer disgust as she furrowed her brows at her skirt.

This was a brand-new dress she had bought and worn for the very first time today; watching it get ruined like this broke her heart.

Lifting her gaze, she saw Song Zhaodi acting as if nothing at all was the matter, casually ladling water by the vat in the corner.

Rage flared up instantly in her chest. "Zhaodi, so you are home! Your grandma is throwing up like this, how can you just stand there and ignore her?"

At this, Song Zhaodi didn't even pause her ladling motion. She merely shot a sidelong glance and retorted, "Do you live right next to the ocean? You sure like sticking your nose into everyone's tidepools."

Jiang Meifeng was an only child whose mother had died when she was young. Growing up, she frequently went hungry, and the original owner had occasionally shared meals with her—only for Jiang Meifeng to latch onto her like a parasite afterward.

Whenever Jiang Meifeng came over to the Song household to find Zhaodi, she would invariably freeload a meal out of it. Later on, after Jiang Meifeng's father struck it rich with a windfall, she grew puffed up with arrogance, constantly showing off and acting superior in front of the original owner. The original owner disliked interacting with her, but due to her timid nature and inability to break ties, she could only hide whenever she could—which ironically only made the other girl feel even more entitled.

Hearing such an uncharacteristically sharp and unpolite remark, Jiang Meifeng widened her eyes in disbelief and challenged, "Zhaodi, is that any way to talk? Even if she isn't your biological grandmother, she's still an elder!"

Song Zhaodi set down the wooden ladle, turned sideways, and looked Jiang Meifeng up and down from head to toe before letting out a cold, mocking smirk.

"None of your damn business!"

This chick was full of malicious schemes; if it hadn't been for catching her and Lin Yong sneaking around in the bushes earlier today, the original owner wouldn't have been left utterly heartbroken, lost her footing, tumbled into the river, and lost her life.

The mere thought made fury surge uncontrollably through Song Zhaodi. She dropped her water bucket and whipped forward like a sudden gale-force wind.

Before Jiang Meifeng could snap out of her daze, a crisp pair of slaps— pa! pa!—landed across her face.

Jiang Meifeng clutched her cheek, glaring in furious disbelief. "Song Zhaodi, have you lost your mind?! Why did you hit me?!"

"Because you have no shame!" Song Zhaodi declared, hands propped firmly on her hips, her voice ringing with absolute conviction.

Those three words—have no shame—made Jiang Meifeng's gaze waver nervously. She bit her lip and forced a tight front, hissing, "You're cursing people! See if I don't rip that mouth of yours to shreds!"

By now, Sun Xiuhe had finally caught her breath and joined in to back her up, mud still stuck between her teeth as she mumbled incoherently:

"This little money-pit is simply asking for a beating!"

With that, both of them turned their murderous gazes dead-set on Song Zhaodi.

With lightning-fast reflexes, Song Zhaodi scooped up a handful of muck straight from her own hair, cocking her arm as if ready to let fly.

She didn't slack off with her tongue either: "Jiang Meifeng, you're the one who goes around behind Sun Xiuhe's back calling her an old bag of bones while playing the sweet little saint to her face—if you aren't shameless, what are you?!"

The two women, who had been hesitant to charge forward precisely because they feared getting pelted with mud, froze instantly in their tracks upon hearing those words.

The mud stuck to Sun Xiuhe's hair made her look utterly ridiculous, but her triangular eyes suddenly shot an intensely vicious glare straight at Jiang Meifeng.

"You called me an old bag of bones?"

Living in the same village, everyone knew which daughter-in-law was spineless and which mother-in-law was a shrew. Venting a few complaints behind closed doors happened all the time, but nobody ever brought it out into the open to tear off each other's masks.

Seeing Sun Xiuhe redirect her wrath, Song Zhaodi quickly poured oil onto the fire. "She even cursed Song Yaozu as a little wealth-wasting parasite with a head full of donkey dung!"

Song Yaozu was Sun Xiuhe's absolute scale of reverse—touch it and she'd tear you apart.

Hearing this, regardless of whether it was true or false, Sun Xiuhe rolled up her sleeves and charged forward. "Today I'm going to rip your mouth open, you whorish little—"

Jiang Meifeng was completely bewildered; she had only come over to gloat and assert her presence, not to get beaten up!

Panicking, she turned tail and sprinted for her life toward the exit.

Realizing she couldn't catch up on foot, Sun Xiuhe instinctively grabbed the nightsoil ladle by the wall, scooped it full to the brim, and flung its contents right behind her.

"Ahhh, my brand-new dress~!" "I'll fight you to the death... Help! Murder! Someone's beating people up..." "I'll teach you to run your filthy mouth again!"

The scolding screeches and miserable shrieks faded further and further away. Watching the two figures sprint out of sight, Song Zhaodi calmly shut her courtyard gate and threw the heavy wooden bolt.

She headed back inside to wash up and clean her hair.

Moving swiftly, she finished bathing, changed into clean clothes, and carried her bundle of laundry down to the riverbank to rinse them clean.

Sun Xiuhe had chased Jiang Meifeng all the way across the village. In the end, with a growing crowd gathering to watch and fearing the public humiliation, she had no choice but to trudge back looking thoroughly disgraced.

Intending to head home and teach Song Zhaodi another lesson, she found the house empty; with nowhere to vent her accumulated rage, she turned on her heel and stomped off toward the fields to complain to Song Dachuan.

Down by the riverside, a group of village women were washing clothes while chatting away.

"Oh my goodness, you lot didn't see it, but it was terrifying. Zhaodi looked like she was sinking right under, and if Shen Che hadn't jumped straight into the water to haul her out, I shudder to think what would've happened."

"That dangerous?! But isn't Shen Che known all over for having a fierce, violent temper? Who would've thought he had a kind streak in him. The Song family had better bring over some generous gifts to thank him for saving her life, right?"

"Hard to say about that." Wang Guihua pursed her lips, glanced around at the others, and lowered her voice. "At the time, Sun Xiuhe's face was pulled as long as a donkey's. Not a single polite word came out of her mouth—she practically ripped Zhaodi right out of Shen Che's arms, and on top of that, she said..."

"What else did she say?" the women chorused with burning curiosity, all halting their washing in unison.

"She said Zhaodi was soaking wet, plastered against a man's chest, hugging and cuddling with a stranger—just asking what kind of unseemly behavior that was."

"Good grief! Are those the kinds of words a grandmother should ever say?"

"Well, nothing surprising about it. After all, she isn't her real grandmother. Anyone with eyes can see how much Sun Xiuhe despises those three sisters... Shh, Zhaodi's coming."

The women instantly fell silent, turning their gazes toward the approaching Song Zhaodi with eyes full of lingering pity.

"Zhaodi, come wash over here, these stones aren't slippery." Wang Guihua stood up to yield her spot, asking with genuine concern, "You weren't too badly frightened earlier, were you?"

Song Zhaodi shook her head, thanked Wang Guihua, and—relying on the original owner's muscle memory—began scrubbing her clothes against the flat stone.

The others dropped the previous topic, offered a few words of comfort, and went back to their respective chores.

By the time Song Zhaodi finished washing her garments, she was the only one left by the riverbank.

Gazing at the shimmering, sparkling current of the river, a lingering wave of unease rippled through her.

She quickly hoisted her washbasin and prepared to head back.

Suddenly, a flash of white light zipped through the air, followed closely by a crisp thud.

Song Zhaodi felt her basin sink heavily as water splashed outward. Lowering her gaze, she saw a large, plump fish flopping frantically right inside her washbasin.

Realizing it was about to leap out, she quickly slapped her hands down to pin it in place.

Subtitles flashed before her eyes once more: “Grass carp, neutral in nature, sweet in flavor, and rich in nutritional components. Can be prepared into braised grass carp chunks, steamed grass carp with oil and scallions, boiled fish fillets in chili oil, chopped pepper fish head, pickled cabbage fish soup, grass carp and tofu soup...”

It even came attached with a full sequence of recipes and dietary contraindications.

The original owner had only consumed a bowl of watery coarse-grain porridge with barely any rice grains in it that morning, and after all the physical turmoil of the day, her energy reserves were completely depleted.

Right now, she was ravenously hungry!

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