Chapter 178: Chapter 178

Luo Wan let out a chuckle.

She pointed a finger at Zhang Xiaoyu’s head. "You little girl, you’re quite something. What, planning to bully our An’an?"

"Who’s bullying her? Would I dare? If my mom found out, she’d skin me alive. She’s always going on about how wonderful and smart An’an is. My ears are about to develop calluses from hearing it."

Zhang Xiaoyu smugly glanced at Shen You’an. "No matter how amazing you are, you still need to call me Little Aunt. Hurry up and say it, let me hear it."

Shen You’an shook her head and laughed. "Can’t do it."

Call a kid one year younger than her "Little Aunt"?

Her soul was decades older than this little brat.

There was no way Shen You’an could say it aloud.

"Fine, I’ll let it slide because I’m a sucker for good looks. I’ll forgive you since you’re good-looking."

Aunt Guihua’s house was just west of the Zhang family’s old residence. Skirting along the base of the wall, it only took a minute to get there.

Aunt Guihua’s house was also a two-story building, though it was built more recently than the Zhang family’s, with a modern and stylish appearance.

Aunt Guihua came out of the kitchen holding a plate of food. Seeing Zhang Jian and Luo Wan walk in, she quickly invited them to take a seat.

Suddenly, she froze on the spot, her gaze fixed straight at Shen You’an, who walked in behind them.

"An’an? Is that you, An’an?"

Last night, it had been too dark to see clearly. All she noticed was the silhouette—a tall, slender figure just like Zhang Yun when she was young.

Now, standing under the sunlight, the girl’s features came into focus, leaving the attractive Aunt Guihua momentarily speechless.

Her eyes were like Zhang Yun’s, but she was even more beautiful than Zhang Yun. Her skin was so fair it seemed to glow, and her calm demeanor and graceful movements exuded an indescribable air. She was clearly someone from a big city.

"Great-Aunt," the girl nodded and smiled faintly.

"Girls sure change as they grow up. You’ve certainly grown more and more beautiful."

Standing next to her, Zhang Xiaoyu looked darker and more plain by comparison. It was almost hard to look.

Especially at the dining table. The girl’s refined and elegant table manners, every move, were pleasing to the eye.

Then there was Zhang Xiaoyu, poking at the dishes with her chopsticks, craning her neck, and slurping greedily while loudly smacking her lips as she drank her soup.

Aunt Guihua finally couldn’t hold it any longer and slammed her chopsticks down. "Zhang Xiaoyu, can you eat properly?"

Zhang Xiaoyu put on a defiant look like a pig that doesn’t fear hot water. "This is how I eat. I can’t change."

She shot a glance at Shen You’an beside her. "You like An’an so much, why don’t you just make her your daughter?"

"If An’an were really my daughter, that’d be wonderful." Aunt Guihua was so frustrated she felt her liver tighten with pain.

Usually, she could tolerate her wild behavior, but with An’an as a comparison, everything about her own daughter seemed intolerable.

An’an had grown up without parents, yet how had she turned out so beautiful, graceful, understanding, and well-mannered?

After all, it was the same Zhang family ancestral grave they shared.

"Aunt, let’s eat. It’s just a young girl’s phase—she’ll grow out of it." Luo Wan tried to smooth things over.

After the meal, they cleaned up and prepared to head to the gravesite.

Aunt Guihua had already prepared joss paper, incense, candles, and the necessary offerings like fruits, snacks, wine, and meat.

Zhang Jian and Luo Wan had also brought items. Luo Wan even prepared Zhang Yun’s favorite treats, which she made herself.

Zhang Jian carried a sickle, intending to clear the weeds around the ancestral tombs.

Zhang Xiaoyu stayed home to mind the house, while the group set out in a grand procession.

The Zhang family’s ancestral graves were located in a wheat field by the river. The winter wheat had just been sown, and bright green shoots were beginning to sprout. Amidst the tender greenery stood several grave mounds, prominent and eye-catching.

Some of the mounds were old, some newer. Grass grew thick and lush over and around the graves, almost completely covering them. It was difficult to distinguish which grave belonged to whom, so Zhang Jian began cutting down the grass with his sickle as he walked.

Luo Wan and Aunt Guihua approached a not-quite-new grave mound to the south, beside which stood a tombstone.

This was Grandmother’s grave.

On either side of it were adjacent mounds: one belonging to Grandfather, the other to their mother, Zhang Yun.

In their hometown, the tradition was that married daughters couldn’t be buried in the ancestral cemetery. But since Shen Li was considered a live-in son-in-law, the Zhang family didn’t dwell on it too much. After Zhang Yun passed away, Zhang Jian had brought her body back home to be buried in the ancestral grounds, allowing her to rest beside her parents forever.

Shen You’an looked around. The terrain here was flat, with gentle waters flowing nearby. The earthly energies were contained, and the heavenly energies open. Surrounded by dual waterways, the spot embraced the wind and gathered vitality—a location with extraordinarily good feng shui.

Having read some feng shui-related books in her system, Shen You’an had a bit of understanding. Exceptional ancestral feng shui could indeed bring blessings to descendants.

The Zhang family’s ancestral grave site was clearly chosen under the guidance of a master.

Zhang Yun’s tombstone had weathered years of wind and rain, showing signs of erosion. Yet the inscription remained clear and legible.

She had seen this handwriting before, on the back of her own baby photo taken when she was a month old.

The lettering on her mother’s tombstone—each stroke had been carved by her father’s own hands.

He must have been in so much pain at the time.

Kneeling before the tombstone, Shen You’an gently brushed away the dust and traced the central engraved characters with her fingertips.

"Beloved Wife Zhang Yun’s Grave," beside which was a smaller line of text, "Beloved Son Shen Zhixing..."

Shen You’an’s gaze froze slightly.

It referred to the younger brother who had died before he even had a chance to see the world.

Her eyes grew misty. She took out a box of pastries and placed it in front of the tombstone.

"Little Aunt said these almond crisps were your favorite. I learned to make them from her. They didn’t turn out great, but please make do. I’ll try to make them better next year."

Beside her, Luo Wan was burning paper money and chatting nonstop. "Sister, I’ve brought An’an to see you. Are you doing well over there? Reunited with brother-in-law, I hope? Let me tell you, An’an is doing so well now—she topped the high school entrance exams. You and brother-in-law in the afterlife, you must bless An’an with a smooth and healthy future..."

Before she knew it, tears were streaming down Luo Wan’s face.

After burning the paper money, Luo Wan got up to help Zhang Jian, leaving Shen You’an alone kneeling before the tomb, tossing ingots into the fire pile little by little.

"Mom, I dreamed of you, Dad, and my little brother last night. Did you miss me? Then you have to come visit me in my dreams often."

"I was so immature before. I used to resent you for leaving me behind so early, but later I realized just how naive that thought was."

"Little Aunt and the others say I look a lot like you, but your daughter doesn’t even remember your face. Does that make me an unfilial child?"

"Zhou Qin said there’s something suspicious about your death. But it’s been so long—it’ll take time to investigate. Don’t worry, I’ll find out the truth..."

Shen You’an spoke until her mouth went dry, yet it still felt like there was so much more to say.

"Enough, Xiao Jian, take a break. Let the grass grow. Don’t you know? The more abundant the grass around the ancestral grave, the stronger the ancestral blessings, and the more fortune the descendants will have. It’s all part of the belief." Aunt Guihua stopped Zhang Jian.

Zhang Jian paused, wiped the sweat from his brow, and asked, "What kind of belief is that?"

Aunt Guihua glared at him. "Don’t be so skeptical. Back in your great-great-grandfather’s time, a traveling Taoist passed through our village. It was a hot day, and he couldn’t walk any farther. Your great-great-grandfather gave him a bowl of water and welcomed him into the house for a meal. In return for this kindness, the Taoist told him our family was blessed with fortune. He chose a plot for our family’s ancestral grave and predicted that within six generations, our family would produce someone who would alter the fate of our entire lineage—a big figure."

Aunt Guihua began counting on her fingers. "It’s just aligned perfectly with An’an’s generation. That Taoist wasn’t kidding. An’an topped her exams. Her future is limitless. She’s clearly the one to transform our Zhang family’s fate."

Zhang Jian was momentarily stunned and instinctively glanced toward Shen You’an.

He had never been one for superstition, but Aunt Guihua’s words struck a chord this time.

An’an was bright, capable, and promising.

Maybe she really was the one who would change the family’s future.

Zhang Jian immediately dropped the sickle and walked over to Aunt Guihua.

"Auntie, what other details do you remember? Please tell me more."

Aunt Guihua cast him a sidelong glance and suddenly asked, "Where’s Zhou Qin? Why didn’t she come back with you?"

Zhang Jian pursed his lips and fell silent.

Aunt Guihua let out a cold laugh. "When you first brought that woman here, I could tell she wasn’t cut out for family life. Let me tell you, during your sister’s funeral, she eavesdropped on what my husband and I were saying. The moment she found out about our ancestral grave’s feng shui, she got all high and mighty, as if her son was about to rise to greatness."

Zhang Jian froze—this was the first time he’d heard about it.

"But no matter how cleverly she plotted, it’s useless. Back then, that old Taoist said our grave’s feng shui favored daughters over sons. Look, hasn’t that turned out to be true?"

The older folks in the Zhang family all knew about this, and Aunt Guihua, being quite superstitious, had pieced together even more details from the elders.

That’s why she firmly believed An’an was the one the Taoist had spoken of—the one destined to change the Zhang family’s fate.

"If things aren’t working out, just divorce her early. Don’t talk about staying together for the kids. If you really care about the children, ending the marriage would be better. That kind of woman will only lead the kids astray."

Zhang Jian nodded earnestly. "Thank you, Auntie. I’ll keep that in mind."

On the way home, Shen You’an walked behind with Aunt Guihua.

She suddenly asked, "Great-Aunt, I overheard what you said to Uncle just now. To be honest, Uncle is already pursuing legal action to divorce Zhou Qin."

Aunt Guihua smacked her lips. "I figured as much. That woman has always been trouble. You know, when your mother’s body was kept here before the burial, I got up in the middle of the night and caught her trying to open your mom’s coffin. Disrespecting the deceased—that woman is truly shameless. I didn’t say anything at the time out of consideration for your uncle."

Shen You’an suddenly turned her head sharply. "Great-Aunt, what did you just say?"

Aunt Guihua sighed. "I might as well tell you. Back when your mom was being buried, she held a jade piece in her hand that your dad had given her. That shallow woman Zhou Qin was probably eyeing it. I caught her red-handed, but she denied it to death. If not for wanting to save face for your uncle, I’d have given her a good scolding. Coveting items from the deceased—isn’t that just asking for trouble?"