Reborn in the 80s: My Whole Family Secretly Hears My Thoughts and Goes Wild with Success! - Chapter 92

“Ye Jiawu, I’m sorry—I was wrong that day.” Shen Xiang straightened up and clasped his hands in a formal salute toward Ye Jiawu.

Ye Jiawu was stunned. He’d never encountered a situation like this and didn’t know how to react, his face instantly flushing red.

Not just Ye Jiawu—Ye Yunlin, Li Shuying, and Shen Zhiqiu were equally caught off guard by Shen Xiang’s sudden gesture.

Shen Zhiqiu was the first to recover. She turned to Ye Jiawu and said, “Xiao Wu, Xiao Xiang has shown his sincerity. Whether you accept it or forgive him is your choice, but from now on, that matter is over. Don’t bring it up again.”

“Zhiqiu-jie, I understand.”

Ye Jiawu finally snapped out of his daze and waved at Shen Xiang. “Alright, get up already.”

Shen Xiang, completely unfazed, stood and dusted off his pants before tilting his chin at Ye Jiawu. “I’ve apologized. Where are we fighting?”

“In the courtyard.”

Shen Zhiqiu stepped forward to open the gate. This time, Ye Jiawu didn’t stop Shen Xiang from entering.

“Neither of you is allowed to aim for vital spots—eyes, temples, or the groin. Whoever can’t get up at the end loses.”

Ye Yunlin laid out the rules and asked Shen Xiang and Ye Jiawu, “Is the winner the boss, or do you two have something else in mind?”

In unison, they declared, “Winner takes all!”

“Fine. Begin.”

Shen Xiang and Ye Jiawu had completely different fighting styles. Shen Xiang had no formal technique—just pure brawling—but he was quick, experienced, and clearly no stranger to street fights.

Ye Jiawu, on the other hand, had trained properly. His fundamentals were solid, his strikes powerful and fast, but he clearly lacked real combat experience.

Both were fiercely determined, and for a while, the match was evenly balanced, with no clear winner in sight.

After Yaya woke up, Huo Jiusi carried her out to sit on the veranda, gently fanning her with a palm-leaf fan as they watched the spectacle.

Yaya was thrilled, waving her tiny arms excitedly, though it was unclear which side she was cheering for.

Over an hour later…

[How come Xiao Wu-jiu and Shen Xiang still haven’t finished?]

Yaya yawned. [At this rate, I’m going to fall asleep.]

Huo Jiusi squeezed Yaya’s little hand. “Almost there. It’ll be over soon.”

Yaya blinked her big eyes, tilting her head slightly in doubt.

“Look!”

The moment Huo Jiusi spoke, Ye Jiawu kicked Shen Xiang to the ground. Shen Xiang struggled to get up, but his strength was spent. In the end, he collapsed, unconscious.

Ye Jiawu wasn’t in much better shape, but he could still stay alert. Sitting on the ground, he punched the dirt twice, grinning triumphantly. “I won! I won!”

“Yaya, did you see that? Your Xiao Jiu won!” Ye Jiawu waved at her.

Yaya waved back and gave him a thumbs-up.

[Xiao Wu-jiu is amazing!]

[Hahaha, now Shen Xiang has to be Xiao Wu-jiu’s underling! I wonder if that scumbag grandpa will have a heart attack when he finds out!]

[But honestly, he’d probably be even angrier if he knew Shen Xiang isn’t his real son.]

[Sigh… Speaking of which, Shen Xiang is kind of pitiful. He was stolen by Wang Fengqin as a baby, forced apart from his real parents. That old witch pretended to dote on him but secretly raised him to be rotten and useless.]

[Luckily, it’s not too late. He hasn’t been completely ruined yet. Sure, he’s got flaws, but deep down, he’s still a decent person.]

When Shen Zhiqiu came to take Yaya to bed, she overheard these thoughts and was stunned.

So Shen Xiang was a child Wang Fengqin had stolen? That explained why he looked nothing like her or Shen Daqiang.

She remembered coming home after her first year in the song and dance troupe to find a four-year-old “brother” suddenly in the house. Shen Liya hadn’t seemed surprised at all. At the time, Shen Zhiqiu hadn’t paid it much mind.

Now, it made sense—Shen Liya must have known all along.

Shen Xiang had probably been raised at Wang Fengqin’s parents’ home, and they’d deliberately kept it from her.

Most likely, as soon as she’d left for the troupe, they’d brought him home.

But why didn’t she remember Wang Fengqin being pregnant? Whether real or faked, there should have been signs.

Her mother had passed away when she was seven. A hundred days after the funeral, Shen Daqiang had brought Wang Fengqin and Shen Liya home.

She’d joined the troupe at eleven. While she didn’t remember every detail from those years, she should’ve noticed if Wang Fengqin had been pregnant.

Shen Zhiqiu considered several possibilities before settling on the most plausible: Shen Xiang’s age was wrong.

If he wasn’t eight years younger than her but seven—meaning Wang Fengqin had been pregnant before her mother’s death—everything fell into place. It also gave Shen Daqiang and Wang Fengqin a logical motive for killing her mother and seizing the house.

To confirm this, she’d need to speak with Xu Kai again.

Early the next morning, Shen Zhiqiu sought him out.

“Comrade Shen, you’ve finally come.”

Xu Kai looked haggard. In just a few days, he’d lost a noticeable amount of weight.

Shen Zhiqiu frowned. “What happened?”

Xu Kai sighed. “Every time I sleep, I dream of Old Dong and his little girl… coming to demand my life.”

She knew it was guilt tormenting him—a man haunted by his own sins.

But the pitiful were often also the detestable. She felt no sympathy for him.

“Let’s go. I’ll take you to see my grandfather.”

“Wait a moment.”

Xu Kai wheeled out his bicycle, a wooden crate strapped to the back.

Once they were outside the city and the roads were empty, Shen Zhiqiu spoke again. “There’s something else I need to ask you.”

“Comrade Shen, go ahead. If I know, I’ll tell you everything.”

“It’s about Wang Fengqin again. How many times was she pregnant, and when?”

“Da Long’s sister was pregnant four times, I think, but two ended in miscarriages. As for the timing… let me think.”

“Her first was the daughter, born not long after marriage. Then the son… must’ve been the winter of ’71. She slipped on ice, and the baby came early.”

Just as she’d suspected—Shen Xiang was actually a year older.

Not only that, but shortly after, her mother’s medicine pot had mysteriously shattered. Shen Daqiang had bought a new one, but not before beating her mother so badly she never left her bed again.

The following year, on the first day of winter, her mother had let go of her hand forever.

After steadying herself, Shen Zhiqiu pressed on. “Do you remember which hospital Wang Fengqin went to for the birth?”

“People’s Hospital. Da Long and I took her there.”