After Transmigration, Her Whole Family Are Villains

Chapter 30

Stewing medicine, picking wild vegetables, tending to the stove.

When Mom returns, the house becomes lively.

Mom doesn\'t let elder brother work, so he sits on a chair and prepares the wild vegetables.

Sister Jiang Yu continues to stew yesterday\'s medicine in the clay pot.

Medicine bought with money should never be wasted.

Yesterday\'s medicine residue is also kept, intending to stew it together with another batch, which is equivalent to having three doses of medicine.

Mom quietly prepares the python meat.

Jiang Mianmian knows this because Mom doesn\'t avoid her, probably thinking that she\'s still too young to understand.

And then Jiang Mianmian, on Mom\'s back, nervously watches the pieces of meat.

They\'re cut like salmon; she doesn\'t know how large the original body must have been.

And then she sees the head of the original body.

Ah, ah, ah, ah...

Mom is killing me.

Jiang Mianmian feels like her baby\'s heartbeat has stopped several times.

I\'m scared, baby.

A brightly colored, giant python head, neatly placed there.

At first glance, she thought it was a dragon head.

Like the kind you see in lion dance performances... lifelike.

Ah, ah, ah, ah...

This head is placed on their chopping board.

Ah, ah, ah, its eyes are yellow, with vertical pupils.

Wasn\'t it said that even when a snake\'s head is chopped off, precautions should be taken to prevent it from biting?

If this head bites, it could swallow her whole in one bite.

But Jiang Mianmian looks carefully and realizes that it has been cut into an artistic piece... it shouldn\'t bite.

It\'s so scary, so scary.

It scares her so much that she hiccups twice.

Even the tender skin of a baby has goosebumps, surely she has them too.

Mom works diligently, humming unconsciously.

Jiang Mianmian can\'t quite understand the lyrics, probably a local folk song.

She can only understand one sentence: "Fish fish~ silly cat~ plump~... fish fish~ silly cat~ plump~"

She doesn\'t know if that\'s what it means, but the melody sounds like it.

It sounds like a song of abundant harvest.

She can feel that Mom\'s mood is also good.

And Mom works at a very fast pace, a bit dizzying.

Jiang Mianmian, who hiccups twice, falls asleep amidst Mom\'s rhythmic work.

Before falling asleep, she hazily thinks that she will remember this scene when she grows up.

Mom\'s back is so soft, like a boat, swaying gently, drifting aimlessly, but she never has to worry about falling off, feeling very secure.

In the realm of dreams, everything is sweet.

At this moment, in the evening.

The room is actually a bit dim.

A woman bows her head, holding a large knife, cutting the meat without any emotion, a giant python head that refuses to close its eyes sits there, coldly staring.

This woman is even colder than the giant python.

Like a deranged killer.

However, if you approach and take a closer look, you will see that the reason she is crouching is to make her back slope at a slightly inclined angle, allowing the baby on her back to sleep more soundly.

The baby\'s face is pressed against her back, sleeping flat, cheeks puffed up, occasionally murmuring, breathing lightly, like snoring softly, capable of blowing tiny bubbles.

She is the most ruthless hunter, and also the gentlest mother.

...

Evening.

In the county government office, the grand hall, with a mirror hanging high, the plaque is solemn and desolate.

Already in the state of getting off work.

Anything can be dealt with in the morning.

In the afternoon, generally no cases will be taken.

The county government office is located in the center of the county town, with the City God Temple on the left and some well-established mansions of the gentry on the right.

In the current world, there is unrest with both natural and man-made disasters.

Corrupt officials hold power, and sycophants have influence.

The common people are struggling to make a living.

The rich own vast lands, while the poor have no place to stand.

In a corner of the county government office, there sits a man who looks like a scholar.

Inside the house, various medicinal herbs are neatly arranged, with each herb labeled with its name, usage, year, and quality.

This should have been a messy house with too many things piled up.

But it has been tidied up meticulously, with a wooden board connected to the window, forming a makeshift table.

Stacks of grass roots are piled up as stools.

A man in a coarse cloth robe sits here, and he must have been sitting for a long time, as the grass roots have been worn smooth and shiny.

The table made of wooden boards is connected to a small wooden window, allowing light to come through, providing enough illumination for reading and writing.

The man\'s handwriting is elegant and refined. If it were used for writing articles, regardless of the content, just looking at the characters would make people unable to resist applauding and praising his skill in calligraphy.

However, these densely packed characters are not verses or literary works, but annotations for each herb.

The ink on the table is of the poorest quality, easily forming clumps. He has to be extra careful when writing, and there is always a pungent smell, fortunately masked by the scent of the herbs in the room.

In such a corner, the man has written many, many words. If he were a scholar, he would have calluses on his hands from writing, but he is not. He has many calluses on his hands, overshadowing the calluses from writing.

A person who lacks filial piety and fraternal respect cannot take the imperial examinations.

No one will vouch for him.

He was cut off from the path of learning many years ago.

But at that time, he didn\'t understand how important this matter was.

In the following days, he labored, repeated labor, day after day of labor, never seeing hope, never seeing a future. Not only did he have no future, but neither did his children.

A lifetime of doing the most arduous and tiring work, eating meager meals.

Lifelong, worse off than pigs and dogs.

He gradually understood. He struggled and even knelt down to beg for his children.

When he was expelled from his family back then, he didn\'t kneel, but later, when he had children, he knelt down easily.

He didn\'t tell his wife that he knelt down, and he received more insults and humiliation in return.

Originally, under a man\'s knees, there is no gold. After you kneel, others will only spit on you and trample on your spine, trying to bend and crush it.

They will make you lowly and forever unable to rise.

When you give, there will always be a reward. When you give your sincere heart, you will always be hurt.

This room is small and stuffy, with only a tiny window and a faint light.

However, here he reads and writes every book he can get his hands on, repeatedly, recording everything.

The work he does, earning little money, has one advantage—it allows him to write.

He is ashamed as the head of the family, unable to provide enough food and clothing for his wife and children.

Utterly incapable.

It\'s getting dusk.

The bell of the City God Temple starts ringing.

It will ring three times.

After the third chime, the wealthy households were about to have their evening meal.

From his seat, he had a limited view, but it happened to encompass a small door. Whenever that door opened, he could catch a glimpse of the street beyond, including the side entrance of a courtyard across the street.

The side door opened five times a day.

People came and went.

He lightly tapped the tabletop with his hand.

As the side door opened, two individuals emerged.

He extended his right hand, rubbing his stiff neck and turning his head.

Then he lowered his head and continued writing.

The room was filled with the scent of medicine.

Ink marks gradually appeared on the paper.

Arsenic, croton, Sichuan lovage rhizome, white aconite, pinellia, southern star, green ladybug, croton seed, Chinese gamboge, radix sanguisorbae, Chinese hibiscus, red cinnabar, toad secretions, and foreign golden flower...

Medicine is three parts poison, and these medicines are highly toxic.

Below the prescription, there was another piece of paper detailing a person\'s life.

Wu Liu, with a mole at the corner of his eye, skilled in using a stiletto, height of five feet three inches, enjoys eating meat pies from the Western Street corner. He has a lover who is already married, residing at No. 46 West Street...

He finished writing.

Then he tore both pages and crumpled them up.

It grew dark outside.

He stood up and pushed the door open.

A man walked out, his long hair flowing, his steps gentle.

Whenever he encountered someone, he would politely greet them.

He had a good reputation.

"Hey, hey, hey, come on!!" Several gambling constables shouted when they saw Jiang Second approaching, "Mr. Jiang, join us for a game!"

Jiang Changtian waved his hand, explaining with a good temper, "My wife and children are waiting for me. I have to go home."

Walking out of the county government office, passing by the City God Temple, where incense was thriving. The worse the world became, the more prosperous the incense.

Not far from the City God Temple, the bustling crowd increased.

The fragrance of women overwhelmed the scent of incense.

Red sleeves were enticing. "Come, sir, come and have a seat."

Jiang Changtian walked past without glancing sideways.

As he passed by a steamed bun shop, he paused, hesitated for a moment, and bought two meat buns.

Then he pocketed the buns and continued walking, slightly quickening his pace.

The sky gradually darkened, and the trees on both sides seemed eerie.

He used to be afraid of the dark.

His mother always locked him alone in a room with no light, and he would see countless frightening things in the pitch-black room.

But later, he became a father, and he gradually lost his fear.

Because children are like a lamp, illuminating the dark chambers of his heart.

He walked briskly, with the wind in his ears.

Gradually, he heard the crowing of roosters and the barking of dogs.

A smile unconsciously appeared on his face.

He was almost home.