Chapter 148: Chapter 148

Several hours later, a frail child under seven years old lay on a hospital bed reeking of strange odors, her face terrifyingly pale. Even without extensive examination, the situation clearly looked grim.

The intermittent sighs of the doctor echoed in the room:

"This child... well, she'll need careful nurturing from now on."

Upon hearing this, Yang San Ya's hatred flared up as expected. Seeing her younger sister struggling just to breathe on the bed, she violently shoved her much taller eldest aunt aside and dragged the silent Yang Second Brother toward the bedside.

While pulling him along, she pointed at her little sister:

"Dad, look! Look properly! With Little Sister in this state, if we don't split from the family now, you'll be collecting our corpses soon!" The not-yet-ten-year-old girl's face flushed crimson with rage as she pointed at her pale sister on the bed.

"What nonsense are you spouting, child!"

"The doctor just said she'll recover with proper care! Such a fuss over a worthless girl!"

"At... at worst she'll do less work from now on!"

"Enough! What's all this shouting? The patient needs rest..." The middle-aged doctor, annoyed by the commotion, impatiently shooed them away.

This rural hospital saw too many messy disputes daily—he had no patience for this petty family drama. After his curt remark, he left without looking back.

Besides, he'd seen clearly enough—with the man of the house refusing to step up, what use was some bratty girl?

Scolded by the doctor and humiliated publicly, San Ya swallowed her protests despite her fury.

Most crucially, under the unblinking stare of Old Lady Yang, the family head Yang Second Brother ultimately lowered his head in submission—ignoring his wife and daughter's heart-wrenching sobs and San Ya's venomous glare.

Witnessing this scene in An Ning's consciousness, even the system couldn't help cursing, mentally lambasting Yang Second Brother.

An Ning didn't stay long at the hospital.

In the mid-1950s when medical care remained underdeveloped, hospital beds were scarce and exorbitantly priced. Despite her severe injuries, An Ning only received basic bandaging before the penny-pinching Yang family hurried her onto a borrowed ox-cart once she was out of mortal danger.

As for San Ya? Just some useless girl—what weight did her words carry? Could she magically produce money?

During the bumpy ride home, An Ning instinctively licked the milk-flavored candy suddenly appearing in her mouth.

Setting aside everything else, this inexplicably appearing sister treated her cheap little sister quite well.

Though she'd appreciate less nagging—especially the endless rants about splitting the family and colorful curses repeated over a dozen times already.

Really, big sis, must you harp on it so?

Leaning weakly against her sister, An Ning stared vacantly into nothingness, her soul utterly drained. Inside her mind, the system barely suppressed its laughter.

"But honestly, your sister had a point back there. Why not seize the opportunity, host?"

In the original timeline, though the younger sister's fever-damaged eyesight was tragic, it did force the family division—wasn't that some silver lining?

While San Ya acted recklessly, the system still believed separating households would be better. Especially with that damned Old Lady Yang's hawk-like eyes—without division, the second branch would never accumulate anything.

An Ning responded with the weakest eye-roll imaginable:

"Division? System, you can't seriously think that solves anything?"

Forget the misery of pretending blindness.

Recalling original memories—yes, thanks to the younger sister's injury and San Ya's explosive scene that nearly involved the village party secretary, the Yangs reluctantly agreed to divide the household to save face. But the result?

Did family separation cure filial foolishness?

They just lived behind separate walls, making exploitation slightly less convenient.

Fundamentally, it solved nothing.

Most crucially, blind filial piety's true horror lay in the accompanying stupidity.

The Yangs were awful, but was the outside world any better?

In reality, weaklings get devoured everywhere.

Nearing winter, the air bit cold despite San Ya's efforts to layer thick straw mats over her sister. Yet on the crude ox-cart, An Ning's small face still turned blue with chill—revealing their dire circumstances.

In original memories, after the division, the second branch left virtually empty-handed—without decent quilts, only threadbare bedding. Yet Yang Second Brother still wavered over Old Lady Yang's manipulations.

Especially later, when San Ya's efforts improved their situation, that "filial son" softened at his mother's calculated displays of weakness.

With such spinelessness, where could they possibly thrive?

Moreover, if she recalled correctly, the catastrophic Three Years of Famine approached. How would a helpless separated family survive...

An Ning even believed San Ya and the original host's tragic fates stemmed partly from drawing too much attention later...

On the cart, tasting another mysterious candy and feeling her sister's protective arm while listening to the teenager's constant muttering, An Ning paused momentarily:

Truthfully, even when wrongfully executed young, the original host never truly resented San Ya.

For a long time, thanks to this sister, that little girl had tasted some sweetness in life.

"Sigh... but without separating, with Yang Second Brother's personality, host, won't you suffer endlessly?"

The system rarely felt gloomy.

Suffer? There were always ways to avoid that.

Glancing at the "affectionate" mother-son pair ahead, An Ning's lashes fluttered before she closed her eyes again.