Chapter Three: The Third Party's Intrusion

Hurriedly, she carried several large basins of green vegetables and radishes to the dining table, bustling about as she answered Xuan’s questions without pause: “Yes, these two children aren’t your own.”

He shot her a sidelong glance, puzzled. “We’ve been married for so many years—why are you suddenly confused and asking this now?”

“So I’m just the stepmother?” Kaiming clutched her bamboo chopsticks in a daze by the table. Not only had she cheated, but now she’d become someone else’s stepmother—she couldn’t go on like this!

She cursed the old monk a thousand times over in her heart—rotten monk, damn monk. As she stirred the food in the bowls and basins, she suddenly found something odd: “Why are there only vegetables? Where’s the meat?”

Xuan scratched his head awkwardly. “Once your husband saves up a bit more money...”

So it was just a matter of being poor. Kaiming ignored him. Of all people to marry, she ended up with a poor man. A demoness paired with a pauper—what a match.

Xuan eagerly served a bowl of hot rice. Kaiming glanced at the little girl crouched at the edge of the table, timidly watching her, not daring to come closer. Had this demoness been so overbearing that the children were this afraid? What a sin.

She sighed. She had no special affection for these children who weren’t hers, so she just helped herself to a bite of rice. The moment she swallowed, something strange happened.

The memories of this body’s original owner flooded back as if carried by the rice—how she had set her sights on the honest Xuan, schemed to become his wife, mistreated his children, flirted with Hua Damei, and violently abused her rightful husband.

The bamboo chopsticks fell to the ground. Kaiming felt as if she’d watched a compressed film of the demoness’s short life in an instant. What kind of woman was this? How could such a person have the face to live?

Xuan noticed her sudden change in expression and hurried over, worried: “What’s wrong? Is the rice too hot?”

Kaiming turned to him, her face still frozen in shock and embarrassment. “Why didn’t you divorce her?”

He was baffled. His wife had used a strange word.

“I mean, why didn’t you send her away? Why not set your wife aside?” Kaiming swallowed, feeling sorry for him. “Why keep a woman like that?”

Xuan was startled, thinking Kaiming was testing him. He shook his head vigorously. “Never! I would never do that. Don’t worry, my dear! Did I do something wrong to upset you?”

“It’s that wooden head of yours that’s getting on my nerves!” Kaiming leapt up and rapped his head with her knuckles, furious.

Night deepened and the water cooled. Kaiming stood in the cramped washroom, mechanically ladling water over herself, her mind in utter chaos. Who knew how long the old monk’s sorcery would last? How long would she stay in this place—a day, a year, forever? No one knew. Perhaps she’d wake up tomorrow and be back home.

That wild thought gave her a sudden surge of hope. Maybe tomorrow she’d see her own precious child again—the one torn from her very flesh, her true heart’s treasure. How could these two here compare?

Even the names here were so uninspired—Spoon and Bowl.

She smiled, feeling lighter, dried herself with a towel, slipped into a loose belted robe, and emerged while rubbing her damp hair.

She ran straight into Xuan carrying a basin of water. He exclaimed at once, “Kaiming, why aren’t you wearing a skirt?”

A skirt? Kaiming glanced at the long skirt draped over the chair. In this sweltering heat, wearing a long robe and then a skirt too—wasn’t that just asking to be roasted alive? The robe reached her knees anyway; it could pass for a bathrobe.

“Don’t make such a fuss,” she said, too tired to explain, following the demoness’s habits into the inner room. This shabby house only had two rooms; the children had been sent out to sleep in the outer room, while the inner room’s hard stone floor was covered with mats and thin quilts, barely making a bed.

She had no mind to improve the children’s living conditions—she’d be gone by tomorrow anyway. Their affairs were none of her concern.

As she was vigorously drying her hair, she heard the soft patter of footsteps behind her. A hand took the towel from her, gently untangling her long, black hair.

“Let me do it,” Xuan said softly.

A ripple stirred in Kaiming’s heart, and she silently warned herself—this man was far too tender with his wife, striking right at her weakest spot. How long had it been since she received such warmth from a husband?

“No need.” She hurried to snatch back the towel.

But for once, the always obedient Xuan dodged her hand and kept his gentle tone. “Let me, just this once.”

Kaiming’s heart pounded like a maiden newly awakened to love, her thoughts in disarray.

Xuan’s hands were as gentle as a spring breeze, smoothing her hair until it fell in glossy strands on the mat. “Your hair is so beautiful, Kaiming—so black and shiny. Weren’t you always proud of it? You used to say even the Weaver Girl in the sky couldn’t spin cloth as fine as your hair…”

Was this man really saying such loving words? And to his own wife? Had she misjudged him—perhaps this timid man did love his fierce wife after all?

How could that be? Who could love a shrew like that?

“Kaiming, you always liked it when I dried your hair, didn’t you?” Lost in her musings, Kaiming suddenly realized Xuan was now in front of her, his star-bright eyes fixed intently on her face, as if searching for something.

She started in alarm. Was Xuan testing her? Could this meek man actually be suspicious of her—was she so full of holes?

She jerked her head from his hands, dropping her expression. “Get out.”

“What?” Xuan was confused.

Kaiming jumped off the bed, shoved him out of the inner room, locked the door, and called out, “Tonight, you and the children sleep outside!”

“What for?” Xuan asked anxiously from outside.

“To strengthen the bond between father and sons!” she replied, and burst out laughing at her own remark.

The next morning, as she gazed up at the leaky ceiling, she sighed. She hadn’t gone back—she was still stuck in this strange world.

She sprawled on the bed, sunlight dancing over her through the holes, so dejected she didn’t even want to move.

“Kaiming! Kaiming!” The wooden door to the inner room rattled with persistent knocking. She ignored it, but the voice wouldn’t give up. With no choice, she slipped out of bed to open the door.

Xuan stood there, freshly washed and dressed. In the morning light, she noticed how fair and delicate his features were—he really wasn’t bad-looking.

What luck for the demoness to marry this man, Kaiming thought with a sigh.

“I was worried about you, so I stayed in this morning. Breakfast is ready—just ask Spoon to reheat it if you want. I’ll be back late for lunch, so let Wan make it.”

Kaiming listened dumbly, wondering if she’d misheard. “Then… what should I do?”

Xuan suddenly laughed. “You? Nothing, of course—just as always.”

Kaiming stroked her chin—this demoness really knew how to enjoy life.

“It’s a husband’s duty to provide for the family, isn’t it?” Xuan smiled warmly, ruffling her hair before turning to leave.

His smile left Kaiming dizzy. She stumbled back to the bed, unable to collect her thoughts.

A small head peeked around the door—Spoon, eyes bright, asked, “Breakfast? My little sister’s hungry.”

“You two go ahead,” Kaiming replied absently.

Spoon stared at her as if she’d said something earth-shattering, then grunted and shuffled away.

Kaiming paid no mind, scratching her head as she tried to get her bearings. She really hadn’t gone home. Did this mean she’d be stuck here for a year, two, or even a lifetime—in this detestable woman’s body? The thought made her gasp—this was going to be the death of her.

She dawdled, washed her face, took a sip of water, and stared blankly at the pickled cucumbers and cabbage on the table. Eating this food had triggered the demoness’s memories—did that mean she’d be stuck here for a long time?

The idea frightened her, and her face grew pale.

Spoon was already off the table, weaving soft bamboo strips with his sister. Kaiming walked over, curious, and asked, “What are you making?”

Spoon glanced at her, hesitated, and replied, “Brooms, for Father to sell.”

“You know how to do this?” Kaiming exclaimed. The children were only seven or eight, yet so sensible. “You’re amazing!” she said sincerely.

Spoon’s eyes flickered, his expression turning more and more peculiar until he finally blurted out, “You’re… really different from before.”

“Am I?” She laughed awkwardly.

“But I like you better this way.” Spoon suddenly smiled. “If you could always be like this, it would be wonderful.”

Kaiming felt a pang and patted his little head, unable to speak.

Suddenly, the door burst open with a crash, a loud voice preceding the person: “Kaiming, you demon shrew!”

Kaiming blinked—was the original owner really called Demoness?

She stood up and saw a tall, burly woman stride in, her domineering face and sturdy limbs making the room shrink around her—she was like a tower.

Kaiming sifted through her memories and replied calmly, “Is there something you need?”

The woman was surprised by her polite tone, but quickly replied, “I’m looking for Brother Xuan!”

Brother Xuan? Kaiming recalled this woman’s name—Chunhua. Xuan’s admirer and would-be interloper. The thought nearly made her laugh.

She suppressed her amusement and said, “He’s out. If you need him, come back later.”

Chunhua had come to pick a fight, but Kaiming’s calmness threw her off. Unable to hold back, Chunhua said bluntly, “Didn’t you say you’d find someone better than Brother Xuan? Why are you still clinging to him?”

Kaiming found it hilarious—this woman was the boldest interloper she’d ever seen.

She covered her mouth to hide her smile. “Even if I’m still here, this is my own place, Chunhua. Why are you so anxious?”

Chunhua was startled by her coy demeanor. “When did you, demon shrew, learn to act so coy? It’s disgusting!”

Kaiming couldn’t help but laugh, deliberately twirling in front of her. “Don’t you think even rough women like us should act refined sometimes? That’s how you win a husband’s heart.”

“You’ve really changed!” Chunhua grabbed her wrist and dragged her toward the door. “No matter how you pretend, you’re still a demon shrew. Out you go!”

Kaiming, caught off guard, was pulled outside. The two children shouted and dropped their weaving, running after them out the door.