The Divorced Wife of the Richest Man is Reborn

As soon as Little Lang took a bite of the cake, a small boy suddenly appeared out of nowhere, standing in front of him with a fierce look in his eyes, staring at Chen Meilan.

When Chen Meile saw this boy, she immediately burst out laughing.

The boy was about six or seven years old, with slightly dark skin, wearing a yellowed white sweater. He had a small tape recorder hanging on his chest, both pockets stuffed full of cassette tapes, and several more tapes wrapped around his neck. He looked like a tape recorder come to life.

Like Little Lang, his facial features were another replica of Yan Zhao.

"Brother, Daddy's friend auntie gave me cake to eat," Little Lang said, offering his cake. "Brother eat too."

"Your name must be Yan Xiaowang. Let me introduce myself, I'm Chen Meilan," Chen Meilan said, taking out another chestnut cake and holding it out to him. "Have some cake first, your dad will be back soon."

After staring at Chen Meilan for a while, then looking at the pretty Zhaodi, Yan Xiaowang's nose suddenly turned red, followed by his eyes. He took a deep breath, grabbed Little Lang's hand, and turned to leave.

"It's just abandoning burdens, right? You abandon me, I abandon you. Only giving birth, not raising. I, Yan Xiaowang, can take care of us brothers without needing others to raise us," he said tearfully as he walked away, feeling wronged.

He had a stubborn temperament, and being older, he immediately understood that Chen Meilan was the stepmother his father had found for him.

Fierce and stubborn, he walked quickly yet steadily, with long strides exactly like Yan Zhao's.

"Brother, don't run, your dad will be back soon!" Zhaodi reached out to pull him back. Little Lang didn't want to leave either and tried to turn back, but Xiaowang glared fiercely at Zhaodi and dragged his brother away.

"Brother, there's something on your bottom," Zhaodi called out again.

A long string of cassette tape was trailing behind Yan Xiaowang's bottom, like a little tail.

With a tug, the tape got even longer.

Some kids around started teasing: "Yan Xiaowang, did you grow a tail or did you poop and not wipe your butt clean?"

Yanking up the tape, Yan Xiaowang quickly wiped away his tears and walked away with his head held high.

...

At this moment, Yan Zhao was in his father-in-law's courtyard. His mother-in-law had gone to the city to help her younger brother take care of his children, leaving only the old father-in-law at home. He wanted to take good care of the children, but was unable to do so. For example, he had no idea where Xiaowang had gone.

It was already five in the afternoon, and the old father-in-law had been engrossed in watching the TV drama "Snow City." It wasn't until Yan Zhao interrupted that he realized he hadn't eaten lunch yet, let alone know if the two children had eaten.

Moreover, he didn't know about his daughter's divorce and kept asking Yan Zhao if Zhou Xueqin had gone to play cards.

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The old father-in-law's brain had been damaged during the Cultural Revolution, causing his speech to be confused. It took Yan Zhao a long time to understand that his son had been recording and selling cassette tapes on the streets these past few days, so to find him, he'd have to go outside.

After much effort, he finally made the old father-in-law understand that he was taking the children away today.

"Are you taking both Little Lang and Xiaowang? Tell Xueqin to buy some clothes and food for the children if she has money, and stop playing cards. Those people she plays with are no good," the old father-in-law said loudly.

Yan Zhao, who was packing clothes, trembled slightly upon hearing this.

But he quickly composed himself, packed the children's clothes, and was about to leave when he looked back and saw his father-in-law's damaged brain causing his head to sway unconsciously from side to side. One of his eyes had deteriorated, the pupil turning white, while he struggled to keep the other eye open, trying to see Yan Zhao clearly.

So Yan Zhao took out two hundred-yuan bills from his pocket and tucked them into the pen pocket on his father-in-law's chest.

Putting down the luggage, instead of his usual casual salute before leaving, he took a deep breath and gave his father-in-law a ninety-degree bow.

"Xueqin is divorcing you, you need to understand her. You've been away in the army for years, never coming back since she got pregnant with Little Lang. Her heart is broken. You need to coax her, persuade her not to associate with those shady people. They'll be a bad influence on her," the father-in-law was still rambling on as Yan Zhao strode out the door.

As soon as he came out, he met Xiaowang, who was wrapped in cassette tapes.

"Come on, we need to go home now," Yan Zhao said briefly.

Xiaowang was still stubborn: "You didn't say you'd immediately find an auntie when you divorced, especially such a pretty one."

"Do I need to carry you?" Yan Zhao retorted.

Xiaowang pouted, hugging his tape recorder tightly.

The father and two sons, with Yan Zhao carrying four or five large bags in his hands, Xiaowang with a tape recorder around his neck, and Little Lang, were about to leave. Little Lang kept baring his teeth and shouting at the children watching them: "You still owe me money!"

Standing in front of Chen Meilan, Yan Zhao's face looked somewhat uneasy: "This is Little Lang, three and a half years old, and this is Xiaowang, seven years old."

Zhaodi immediately extended her hand, first shaking hands with Little Lang. Although Xiaowang refused to shake her hand, she still said, "My name is Zhaodi, I'm also surnamed Yan."

Before Chen Meilan could speak, she smiled, and saw Yan Xiaowang also looking at her with a half-smile.

The little guy had a contemptuous look on his face, as if saying: Just wait, we won't get along for more than three days before I drive you crazy.

Chen Meilan smiled slightly. Having lived a second life, what kind of mischievous child hadn't she seen before?

Yan Zhao said quickly, "Let's go."

It was evident that he was very unwilling to stay in this place.

"Wait for me a moment," Chen Meilan said, putting her bag on the ground.

What was she going to do?

"Looking for the restroom? I'll take you," Yan Zhao hadn't finished speaking when he saw Chen Meilan walking towards the group of children standing at the village entrance watching the commotion.

The tallest boy among them, looking about twelve or thirteen, was standing at the back.

"Young man, what's your name?" Chen Meilan asked.

The boy suddenly realized something was wrong and turned to run, but Chen Meilan was quick. She reached out and grabbed his collar, pulling the boy, who was about chest-high to her, back.

Extending her other hand, she said, "Hand it over."

"What are you talking about? I don't understand," the boy struggled, trying to run away.

"Yan Xiaowang copies tapes and sells them, Little Lang manages the money, and you just stole money from Little Lang. Am I right?" Chen Meilan tightened her grip.

The boy immediately started screaming, "Hooligan! There's a female hooligan hitting people!"

How could the children in this urban village be so unreasonable?

With another tug, Chen Meilan pulled out a handful of small bills from his pocket and scolded, "Go ahead and shout. Shout as loud as you can, call everyone in the village. It's best if we call the police and go to the police station. I'll say you stole my money, and we'll see if the police side with you or me."

She was dressed neatly and stylishly, while this boy clearly looked like a petty thief. If caught and taken to the police station, the police would definitely reprimand him.

After being released, the boy spat at Chen Meilan's feet and cursed viciously, "Yan Xiaowang, I hope your stepmother beats you to death in the future."

Oh? This child already knew that Xiaowang was going to have a stepmother?

Several children started jeering together: "Yan Xiaowang's mom doesn't want him anymore, he's going to be beaten to death by his stepmother!"

Xiaowang remained silent, his face red with anger, while Little Lang bounced up and down, saying, "Bite, bite you to death."

"My mom doesn't hit people!" Zhaodi shouted, protecting Little Lang.

The group of children was as noisy as a bunch of newly hatched chicks.

Chen Meilan sorted out the ten-yuan, five-yuan, two-yuan, and ten-cent, twenty-cent notes, and handed them to Little Lang. "Did you bite that older boy earlier because he stole your money?"

Little Lang took the money and immediately burrowed into Chen Meilan's arms, like a little wolf pup protected by a big dog. "Mmhmm! Bite them."

He seemed quite comfortable with her, not shy at all.

"Let's go," Chen Meilan said, trying to hold back her laughter as she saw Yan Xiaowang's dejected yet suspicious gaze.

Xiping City is currently the third-largest city in Hua Country after the capital and Shen City. It's an industrial city with a low population density but covering a vast area.

In the future, it will have a subway system and convenient public transportation, making it easy to get around. But for now, public transportation is not convenient, and there's no subway to speak of yet. Even taxis haven't become popular. The most common vehicles on the streets are three-wheeled vehicles, officially called tricycles.

Some would set up a canopy to shield from rain and sun, but most were just a single carriage. Whether carrying people or goods, you'd sit in the box at the back, and the three-wheeled motor rickshaw would nimbly navigate through streets and alleys, able to deliver you to your doorstep even in the narrowest lanes.

Zhou Xueqin's parents' home was in the west of the city, while Yanguan Village was in the east, a straight-line distance of nearly 40 kilometers. Taking public buses would require four transfers, so hiring a three-wheeled motor rickshaw was the better option.

Yan Zhao hired a rickshaw, put the bags at the bottom, first helped Zhaodi settle in the middle, then had Little Lang sit beside her, and gestured for Yan Xiaowang to sit on the other side.

Six or seven-year-old boys are at an awkward age, especially towards little girls, harboring an inexplicable hostility. Moreover, Zhaodi was dressed beautifully, like a little princess, which made him feel even more uncomfortable.

Besides, the boy thought his father was taking them to his own hometown. Yet Zhaodi reached out to hold his hand and said with a smile, "Our house is really big, and the building is very new. It's much better than your home. Come on, sit down."

So even the house belongs to this pretty auntie?

Yan Xiaowang suddenly remembered his mother pointing at his nose and saying, "You think it's just your mom who wronged your dad and you? He just never let you see it, but he knows many women too, like Liu Jingjing and Qi Songlu. They're all girls from good families with good backgrounds. That nonsense about bosom friends, they're all his little mistresses."

Yan Xiaowang didn't know any of these women, but his mother had already hurt him like that, and now his father was taking them to stay at a woman's house. How did he end up with such parents?

Just then, Chen Meilan came back with a few small milk popsicles and offered him one first.

Yan Xiaowang turned abruptly, bumping into the popsicle.

In the hot weather, the popsicle was already half-melted, and now it smeared all over the broken tape recorder on his chest.

"Here, let me help you clean it," Chen Meilan said.

"No," Yan Xiaowang pouted stubbornly.

He turned and sat on the outermost side of the rickshaw. Relying on being a bit older and more agile, he not only didn't hold onto the handle but even crossed his legs.

A milk popsicle hanging from the tape recorder, dripping all over him, but so what? His eyes conveyed only four words: on top of the world.

However, as the rickshaw started up with a jolt, the little fellow was thrown high into the air. If his dad hadn't caught him, he would have landed head-first on the ground.

The adults didn't laugh, but the children did. Little Lang and Zhaodi, already bonding, had even held hands, and they burst into laughter seeing Yan Xiaowang's predicament.

The melted popsicle dripped from his chest to his pants as the rickshaw bounced along, but Yan Xiaowang's stubborn little gaze left Chen Meilan perplexed.

Is this the useless kid Zhou Xueqin talked about?

She didn't think he was useless at all; at least he had spirit.