Chapter 17 — The Breach of Blood and Cloth
The courtyard felt suspended, as if the whole world had paused to listen. Bai Xia looked at her father; in the lines of his face she saw a quiet flame. When she saw his expression she knew it was time to act.
She turned toward the village chief and the ring of faces crowding the yard. "What have we ever done to my grandmother and aunties that every time they target and humiliate us?" Her voice trembled but did not break. As she spoke she choked on some tears. "Who hasn't seen our old clothes? Even rags are better than—"
Hearing Bai Xia's words, some villagers began to whisper, the murmurs fluttering like frightened sparrows.
> "Yes, it's true — their old clothes really are terrible."
"I really don't see anything wrong with them buying some new clothes."
"But these clothes look really good… they might be worth a lot."
Bai Xia turned her face toward her grandmother and spoke as if counting up a ledger of wounds. "You always give us old clothes nobody wants anymore. You give us the leftovers from your meals; if there aren't any leftovers, we starve. Even my younger siblings can't go to a good school, but Bai Gin and Bai Gan can. It's not fair. My elder sister Bai Xuan got a scholarship to a prestigious university, but you didn't let her go because Bai Ai didn't get one. You're so cruel that you gave the job originally meant for Bai Xuan to Bai Ai, forcing Bai Xuan to work in the fields all day. Now my elder brother doesn't even come home because your attitude chased him away. Even my cousins bully my father, who is of the older generation."
As Bai Xia spoke, she collapsed to the ground and poured out everything they had endured across the years. Her sobs were not weakness but testimony. She activated her skill — Reaper Tears — and the courtyard hushed, the air thickening with a sorrow so true it forced sympathy from the hardest hearts. The villagers watched her cry and felt the injustice pressing like a stone against their chests.
> "This grandmother is so wicked… how could she treat her son's family like this?"
"Yes — it's true. Bai Xin and Bai Yang are the only Bai family children who attend the village school ."
"Chu Sun is so pitiful, to have such an evil mother-in-law and cruel sisters-in-law."
"But what about Bai Sung's brothers? Don't they know about all this?"
"Of course they know — their wives and children bully Bai Sung openly. If they didn't know, how would they dare?"
Rumors and sympathy thrummed together; the tide of public opinion, once leaning toward the main house, began to tilt.
Madam Bai, her face contorted with rage, rushed forward — het hand raised high. She moved as if years of grievance had finally been gathered into that single swing. Her intent was clear: to strike Bai xia for daring to breathe above her station.
But Bai Sung, who had been standing at the side, stepped forward and seized his mother's arm. He held her back. Madam Bai nearly stumbled, shock and disbelief painting her expression. In Bai Sung's eyes one could read disappointment, sadness, and beneath them a new, resolute firmness that had not been there before.
"Mother," he said, voice steady in a way that surprised even him, "I would like to break away from the family."
When Bai Xia heard her father's words, a small smile tugged at a place no one could see. Madam Bai, on the other hand, went perfectly still — as if a trusted script had been ripped from her hands. Her once obedient son dared to turn against her, to choose his wife and children over her diktat. The old woman dropped to the ground, letting tears fall and curses spill. "I carried you for nine months — my labor was the most painful of them all — but now… you want to leave me for this scheming Chu Sun and her wicked daughter?" Her voice cracked and rose, thick with theatrical grief and wounded pride.
Everyone watched. No one believed the tears were genuine remorse; they smelled of calculation. Madam Bai had worked the angle: if the family broke away, who would cook, who would work the fields? She had counted on inertia to bind them. Bai Xia, however, could see through the performance. She had always seen the cold calculation beneath the lace of mourning and scolding.
Gu Yan and Ye Fan exchanged looks and almost laughed aloud. They believed Bai Sung's family could not survive without the main house's support; their confidence was a shield made of scorn. The children copied their parents' certainty — cruelty breeds imitation.
The village chief leaned forward, his face lined with care and tired patience. "Do you really want to break off from the family Bai Sung?" he asked Bai Sung.
Bai Sung nodded.
The chief turned to Madam Bai. "Do you consent to this?"
"No! No! No!" she cried, voice thinning and desperate. "I refuse. He is my son — he must not leave me and his brothers. Where would he go? We have no other house in the village. No. I disagree."
For a flicker, Bai Sung felt the old threads tugging at his heart — that his mother still cared in some way. He softened for a moment and then spoke with clear resolve. "Village chief, I will compromise today. But if this continues — even without breaking legal ties — I will leave this family."
The chief stood, the weight of authority filling his posture. He turned to the gathered villagers and made a proclamation like drawing a boundary line in dust: "Very well. Today, you villagers of Youji Village, bear me witness. If the main house of the Bai family ever mistreats Bai Sung and his household again, he shall have the right to break off from the family — even without the head of household's permission."
The words spread like a talisman through the yard. The villagers dispersed reluctantly, the crowd thinning as evening folded its blue over the compound. Madam Bai snorted, humiliated and furious; she retreated into the main house with Gu Yan, Ye Fan, and the rest in tow.
Before they could cross the threshold, Bai Xia's voice ran through the yard like cold water: "Won't you return our clothes? This is still mistreating us, Grandma." The way she spoke the word "Grandma" put a chill up the spine of anyone who heard it.
Gu Yan and Ye Fan sneered and kept walking, dismissing her as a child. But Madam Bai's voice, unexpectedly sharp and commanding, cut through them: "Return their clothes immediately. Give it all back to them."
Reluctantly and with obvious dissatisfaction — for the clothes were better than their own — Gu Yan, Ye Fan, Bai Ai, Bai Gin, and Bai Gan tossed the garments back onto the ground before the smaller family. Their faces were pinched with envy; their hands had stayed greedy only as long as Madam Bai allowed.
Madam Bai was already scheming. She would let this disturbance pass now and take her revenge on Chu Sun later, she thought. She had every intention of punishing the insolence of those who dared to stand up against her. But Bai Xia saw the calculation flicker beneath her grandmother's tears. Permission granted by Granny would never end the harassment; it only delayed it.
Bai Xia's mind moved like a chess player's, quick and patient. Didn't Madam Bai love money more than life itself? If so, money would be the place to strike. Let the old woman's appetite for face and fortune be the lever to pry loose her power.
The yard settled into uneasy silence. Torn cloth and wounded pride lay scattered on the packed earth. A thin line had been drawn — not yet a wall, but a promise of separation. The first seed of true change had been planted in Bai Sung's chest; Bai Xia could feel its roots begin to take hold.
Madam Bai loved money more than family, and Bai Xia intended to use that truth like a key.
Tomorrow, a plan would be born. Tonight, the family breathed, for the first time in years, as if air itself had changed.