Chapter 20: The True Heiress's Father Steps Down

The autumn rain had fallen for three days straight, turning the soil in the vegetable patch thick and sticky. Su Yao crouched in the furrow, pulling up cabbages, her pant legs speckled with mud. From somewhere in the rain, she caught the low, excited whispers of Er Zhuzi’s wife and Widow Wang gossiping.

“Did you hear? Su Wan’s father got dismissed!” Er Zhuzi’s wife’s voice was hushed but carried a thrill. “Because he covered up for his daughter’s illegal resale of collective property. The investigation uncovered a whole mess—embezzlement enough to buy two houses!”

Widow Wang clicked her tongue. “Serves him right! Remember when she came to the village flaunting herself like no one could touch her? This is karma!”

Su Yao’s grip on the cabbage leaves wilted. She stood and headed home, raindrops dripping from her hat brim, splattering the newspaper-patched windows with dark, damp stains.

Lu Xingchen was bent over the kang table doing homework. Seeing her come in, he quickly handed her a dry towel. “Mom, your hair’s wet.”

“Mm.” Su Yao dried her hair, catching sight of a letter at the edge of the kang. The handwriting on the envelope was flamboyant—clearly from Su Wan.

She opened it. The ink had blurred from the rain, but the words were full of curses. Su Wan called her a bastard, a jinx, threatening to make her pay. Su Yao clenched the paper, feeling nothing—like reading the trash of a stranger.

“Mom, is that bad aunt’s letter again?” Lu Xingchen frowned, peering over.

Su Yao crumpled the letter into a ball and tossed it into the stove. The flames leapt up, consuming the paper into black ash, smoke wafting through the chimney and mingling with the rain, sinking into the earth.

“Burn it clean.” She fed a stick of wood into the fire, the glow casting a neutral expression on her face.

Lu Shihan, clutching her doll, toddled closer, her soft voice trembling. “Mom, will that aunt come steal our candy again?”

Su Yao patted her head, warmth from the stove seeping through her palm. “No more. No one will come to cause trouble again.”

Just then, Secretary Li appeared, wearing a straw raincoat, his pant legs rolled up to reveal mud-streaked calves. He placed a soaked newspaper on the kang table. The front-page headline was circled in red ink: “Former County Material Bureau Director Su Zhiqiang Removed for Serious Disciplinary Violations.”

“Su Zhiqing, take a look at this,” Secretary Li said, voice damp with rain. “The investigation’s thorough—beyond shielding his daughter, they found he embezzled public funds and accepted many bribes.”

Su Yao glanced at the paper. Su Zhiqiang’s name was underlined with wavy strokes beside a photo of him handcuffed, hair disheveled, stripped of the aura he once had.

“Understood.” She pushed the paper back. “Thanks for making the trip, Secretary Li.”

He sighed. “This involves you too. The canned goods Su Wan resold—that was from your cooperative, wasn’t it? Luckily, you kept the accounts, or it would be hard to clarify.”

Su Yao said nothing, pouring him a cup of hot water. The steam blurred the windowpane; outside, the rain seemed to soften.

After finishing his water, Secretary Li left, saying, “The village is buzzing, calling this karma. Don’t take it to heart. Living well is what matters most.”

Su Yao nodded and saw him to the door. The rain persisted. Beneath the old locust tree at the village entrance, several villagers gathered in hushed conversation. They fell silent when she appeared, casting strange looks her way.

She knew what they were thinking. When Su Wan caused a ruckus in the village, claiming Su Yao was a fraud who stole her identity, now with Su Zhiqiang’s fall, they surely believed Su Yao had pulled strings behind the scenes.

“Mom, why are they looking at you like that?” Lu Xingchen clutched her clothes, whispering.

“It’s nothing.” Su Yao took his hand. “People’s mouths wag—let them say what they will. We just need to live our lives well.”

Back inside, Su Yao resumed gathering cabbages. Lu Yuxuan helped stack them in the corner. Suddenly, he asked, “Mom, do you think Su Wan will come bother you again?”

“No.” Su Yao placed the last cabbage down and wiped the mud from her hands. “Her father’s down and out. No one will back her now. She won’t dare come back.”

Lu Yuxuan nodded, then bent over his little invention—a windmill made from a tin can that clattered as it spun.

That night, after the children were asleep, Su Yao sat under the lamp, tallying accounts. The cooperative’s ledger lay open; the income figures grew steadily. She thought about building a seedling shed by spring, introducing new vegetable varieties. Just as she was planning, the system’s voice suddenly rang in her mind.

[Detected weakening of antagonistic forces; qualifies for “Rectify the Chaos” plan; reward of 10,000 yuan research start-up funds transferred to the commune account; collect with valid ID.]

Su Yao froze, nearly miscounting the abacus beads in her hand. Ten thousand yuan? That was more than her annual income.

Staring at the ledger, a spark kindled within her. She had always wanted a stable life, no trouble. But with this money, could she do something bigger?

Like building a real factory—not just canning, but making jams, pickles—putting the Red Flag Brigade’s name beyond the county, reaching further.

The thought caught fire in her mind. She grabbed paper and pen, sketching plans. The seedling shed would stand near the river on high ground to avoid flooding. The factory should be away from the village to avoid noise. New machines needed to be purchased, experts hired...

Outside, the rain had stopped. The moon peeked through the clouds, shining on the paper. Her pen scratched steadily, her heart burning brighter.

Early the next morning, Su Yao went to the commune. Old Zhang, in charge of finances, nearly dropped his glasses hearing she wanted to withdraw 10,000 yuan.

“Su Zhiqing, you’re sure? Ten thousand yuan?” Old Zhang flipped through the accounts, tapping the numbers repeatedly. “That’s a huge sum. What’s it for?”

“A factory,” Su Yao said firmly. “To expand production, make more products.”

Old Zhang studied her for a long moment, then smiled. “Alright! I admire your spirit! I’ll help with the paperwork, but the money must be disbursed in installments. The commune can’t pay it all at once.”

“Thank you, Uncle Zhang.” Su Yao handed him her sketches. “Please take a look.”

Old Zhang donned his reading glasses, squinting at the plans before nodding. “Looks promising. But building a factory isn’t a small matter. You’ll need to discuss it with Secretary Li and get county approval.”

Su Yao knew patience was key. She thanked Old Zhang and headed back. Just outside the commune gate, she ran into someone familiar—the housekeeper from Su Zhiqiang’s family, who had come with Su Wan to cause trouble.

The housekeeper saw her and quickly looked away, head down, clutching a cloth bag, seeming to be moving out.

Su Yao ignored her but knew the Su family was truly finished. The once untouchable household she had looked up to had become a village joke.

She suddenly recalled when she first transmigrated here. Su Zhiqiang had sent people to find her, to make her acknowledge her ancestry and arrange a job. She had declined, feeling that family was cold, not a real home. Now she was glad she hadn’t returned.

Back in the village, Su Yao shared her factory plans with Secretary Li. His eyes lit up, slapping his thigh. “Great! This is wonderful news! I’ll write to the county immediately—approval is guaranteed!”

The villagers gathered to watch the excitement. Er Zhuzi rubbed his hands eagerly. “Su Zhiqing, if you build a factory, you’ll need workers, right? Count me in!”

“Me too! I can work!” Widow Wang chimed in.

Su Yao smiled. “Everyone will have a place! But only once the factory’s built.”

Voices buzzed with excitement—no longer reliant on the weather, the Red Flag Brigade was about to change. Watching their hopeful faces warmed Su Yao’s heart.

This was the life she wanted: lively, purposeful, like these autumn fields—weathered by storms yet heavy with harvest.

That night, another letter arrived—from Lu Zhanye. He’d bought train tickets and would arrive in three days. He had brought candy for the children and a piece of floral cloth for her.

Su Yao read the letter again and again, a smile creeping to her lips. The children gathered, Lu Shihan pointed at the word “candy” and clapped happily.

Lu Yuxuan was more concerned with another matter. “Mom, do you think Uncle Lu will like my new invention?” He held up the tin can windmill, eyes sparkling.

“He definitely will.” Su Yao stroked his head. “Show it to him when he arrives.”

Late that night, Su Yao lay in bed, listening to the chirping outside, feeling content. Su Zhiqiang was down and out; Su Wan wouldn’t bother her anymore; Lu Zhanye was coming home soon; the factory plans were taking shape.

She thought of the system’s 10,000-yuan reward, the villagers’ eager eyes, the children’s smiles—and suddenly felt a surge of strength.

Maybe she really could build something great here—not just for herself, but for all those who stood with her.

The next morning, Su Yao led the villagers to select a site. The open ground by the river was perfect—flat terrain, close to water. Everyone grabbed hoes and shovels, clearing weeds with lively laughter echoing along the riverbank.

Standing in the clearing, Su Yao gazed at the distant fields, her heart full of hope. She knew the road ahead would be long, with challenges and hardships, but she was unafraid.

Because she was no longer alone. She had her children, Lu Zhanye, and the support of the whole village. That was her strongest backing.

Three days later, Lu Zhanye returned. Dressed in his uniform with a large backpack, he stood at the village entrance, beaming. The children flocked to him like birds, jumping and laughing.

Su Yao watched from the doorway, her eyes suddenly moist. Lu Zhanye approached and handed her a cloth bag. “For you. Hope you like it.”

Inside was a sky-blue floral cloth, patterned with tiny blossoms—just the way she liked it.

“I love it.” Su Yao smiled, her eyes shining brighter than the sun.

Lu Zhanye looked at her, then at the bustling construction site, curious. “What’s all this?”

“Building a factory.” Su Yao took his hand, leading him toward the site. “Soon we won’t just grow vegetables—we’ll make more delicious things to sell across the country.”

Lu Zhanye chuckled. “Sounds great. I’m behind you. If you need more hands, I’ll take leave to help.”

Su Yao looked at his earnest face, warmth flooding her heart. Sunlight bathed them and the hopeful land, as if to say, the best days were still ahead.