The Divorced Wife of the Richest Man is Reborn

Throughout the entire day, Chen Meilan was in a daze, her mind unsettled.

Her biggest disturbance came from Zhou Xueqin. Since Zhou Xueqin's divorce in her previous life didn't happen until several years later, Chen Meilan was still unsure whether Zhou Xueqin had also been reborn or if her memories from her past life were inaccurate.

Eighteen thousand yuan, all of her savings, had been converted into several thin treasury bonds.

If the national debt dropped, she would lose money. If it rose, she could be certain that Zhou Xueqin had also been reborn.

After a restless night, Chen Meilan went to the bank early the next morning.

The bank wouldn't open for business until 8:30, and it was only 7 AM now.

She could have gone back for breakfast and returned later, as the money wasn't going to fly away from the bank. But Chen Meilan chose to wait outside the bank doors. She was eager to use this money to verify her memories.

Banks at that time still had wooden doors that needed to be dismantled board by board.

While one teller was removing the door, another was inside writing on a small blackboard, recording today's national debt interest rates.

"Big drop yesterday, big rise today," the teller remarked while writing.

Chen Meilan's heart was pounding. Seeing the 116% rate, she squeezed in as soon as the door opened. If she cashed in today, she could earn 0.12% interest.

"Comrade, I'm here to cash in treasury bonds," Chen Meilan said, handing over all her bonds through the small window in the wooden counter.

Today's teller wasn't the same as yesterday's. Sleepy-eyed and yawning, he took the bonds, looked them over, and while working the abacus, said to the one writing on the blackboard, "Once this news gets out, our bank will probably be swamped."

"It's still better here. The banks in the city probably won't be able to cash them. Those who find out late will miss out on this great interest rate," the other replied. "I'm planning to cash in my few bonds today too."

The newspapers only had yesterday's news. Today's rates were announced on small blackboards. Even branch banks only received the latest interest rate notices from headquarters in the morning.

Chen Meilan was grateful for her foresight. As she was leaving after cashing in her bonds, she saw quite a few people running out of the Dongfang Group's main gate. They were clearly on leave, sneaking out, patting their pockets as they ran – all coming to cash in treasury bonds.

If she had been any later, she would have had to queue up and squeeze in with this crowd.

Cashing in treasury bonds on such a big rise day was a matter of luck. Once this bank ran out of money, they would stop processing transactions.

Moreover, cross-city transactions were now possible. You could try your luck at several banks and might succeed in cashing out.

But in a couple of days, new policies would come into effect. Bonds purchased within a year couldn't be cashed across the province. This was a management policy designed to both stimulate large-scale bond purchases and prevent bond speculation.

She deposited the original 18,000 yuan principal, and for the 2,160 yuan interest, the teller gave her 21 olive-green hundred-yuan notes. Even without temperature, these hundred-yuan bills felt hot in her pocket.

Today, she had to buy breakfast. The children were probably starving by now.

After walking a few steps, Chen Meilan stopped in front of an old Tongguan Roujiamo shop.

The local meat sandwiches in Xiping City were made with white flatbread, while the old Tongguan Roujiamo used crispy buns baked in a special oven. As one got older and high blood pressure and high cholesterol set in, one wouldn't dare eat them anymore. But in her youth, Chen Meilan's favorite was still the old Tongguan Roujiamo.

She bought five Roujiamo at once. The crispy, flaky hot buns were split open and filled with braised meat chunks the size of a small finger, a mix of lean and fat. The skin, in particular, was shiny and reddish. The bun consisted of two layers of bread, stuffed full of meat.

Carrying the five Roujiamo, just as she entered the village, Chen Meilan knew that Yan Xishan had thought all night and finally come up with a tough strategy.

He was just walking out of Yan Xiong's house, carrying a carton of Red Zhonghua cigarettes and two bottles of liquor.

His cousin Yan Sanye was also carrying a carton of Red Zhonghua and two bottles of liquor. Seeing Chen Meilan from afar, he averted his gaze and hid the alcohol and cigarettes behind his back.

That wasn't all.

As soon as Chen Meilan reached her door, she saw a man about Yan Zhao's height, in his forties, standing in the courtyard shaking hands with Yan Zhao.

This was Yan Yong, the village chief of Yanguan Village.

As soon as he spoke, Chen Meilan felt a lump in her throat, because he addressed Yan Zhao as "Third Brother."

"Third Brother, how come you didn't say a word about marrying Chen Meilan? If Xishan hadn't come to tell me specifically, I wouldn't have known even now," Yan Yong said, holding Yan Zhao's hand.

"It's a second marriage, we just decided it was right and got married," Yan Zhao said calmly.

Needless to say, Yan Xishan had probably been up all night, delivering cigarettes and alcohol to the village leaders and elders, finding a group of mediators to come and pressure Yan Zhao into leaving using social pressure.

Chen Meilan entered the house with the Roujiamo. All three children were pressed against the glass window, watching outside.

Little Lang bounced over first, looking up at the Roujiamo in her hand. Zhaodi had one hand propping up her chin, still leaning on the windowsill.

Yan Xiaowang wasn't gloating, he actually looked quite gloomy, but he finally spoke properly to Chen Meilan: "Auntie, is Zhaodi's original dad trying to drive us away?"

Although Zhaodi didn't want to believe it, she had seen what was happening since yesterday.

Her birth father had not only kicked and hit her before, but now also wanted to drive her out of her own home. The child felt wronged and upset, almost biting through her lip.

Chen Meilan first gave Little Lang a big Roujiamo, then asked them, "Do you want to drink milk powder or porridge?"

"Mom, I don't want to leave our home," Zhaodi said, sniffling pitifully.

Yan Xiaowang had a world-weary look, and was quite pessimistic: "It's no use. This house belongs to your dad. See that man outside? I've seen him before, he's my cousin's eldest uncle. He's speaking for your dad. We're about to be driven out."

The chubby Little Lang only cared about eating and raised his hand: "Mommy, I want milk powder."

It was too late to make porridge now, so Chen Meilan took out a few cups, added milk powder, and was about to go out with the kettle to boil water when she twisted the thermos and found it was full. She then made milk for the children.

She couldn't finish a whole Roujiamo by herself, so she cut half for herself and gave the remaining half to Zhaodi.

Old Tongguan Roujiamo shouldn't be eaten too hot; it's better when it's cooled a bit, that's when it becomes crispy and flaky.

Taking a bite, a mouthful of meat chunks with skin, chewy and flavorful, gets more delicious as you chew.

To Yan Xiaowang's surprise, Chen Meilan actually joined them at the window to watch the commotion.

They were about to be driven out, yet this stepmother seemed so relaxed, wanting to watch the drama.

Weren't women supposed to get angry and take it out on the children when things didn't go their way? Why wasn't she angry or taking the opportunity to scold him or Zhaodi?

Yan Xiaowang thought this woman was really strange.

In a short while, more and more people had gathered in the courtyard. Some were holding cigarettes, others carrying alcohol. They were either village elders or secretaries and leaders from the brigade and battalion.

Yan Xishan had also entered, and a group of men were gathered, talking and laughing.

These people claimed they had come to see Yan Zhao after hearing he was back, but they had only one purpose: to persuade Yan Zhao to vacate the house.

However, as outsiders, it wasn't appropriate for them to bring it up directly. That task fell to Yan Sanye.

After all, he and Yan Xishan were relatives, and he was a respected elder in the village.

Yan Sanye, with his hands behind his back, suddenly coughed, and everyone fell silent.

"Yan Zhao, we're all very happy about your marriage to Meilan, men and women, young and old throughout the village. Even I am extremely pleased. That good-for-nothing Xishan doesn't deserve such a good woman as Meilan," Yan Sanye first flattered Meilan, then deliberately coughed again, raising his voice by half: "But it's not appropriate for you to live in Xishan's old house. After all, the spirits of his ancestors also reside in this house. It would be shameful for the ancestors to see him lose the courtyard. How about this, I'll make the decision: let Xishan compensate Meilan with a thousand or so yuan, and you can use that to buy a courtyard elsewhere. Return this courtyard to Xishan, alright?"

Yan Xishan lit a cigarette, his gaze wandering until it met Chen Meilan's eyes.

Four heads, one large and three small, peeked through the window. One hand held a meat sandwich. Zhaodi's eyes were fearful, her lips tightly pursed, while Chen Meilan was bold enough to be eating a meat sandwich. How could she eat with such gusto?

Yan Xishan's lips curved into a slight smile as he casually pulled out a cigarette and put it in his mouth, thinking: If it weren't for Yan Zhao, this matter might not be so easy to handle.

Yan Sanye had already said his piece. As a member of Yanguan Village, how could Yan Zhao not leave? How could he not give up the house?

His family's ancestral graves weren't in the village, so wasn't he afraid people would dig them up?

He was a man, wasn't he? Didn't he care about his reputation?

It would be strange if he didn't leave.

Come to think of it, Yan Zhao was truly odd. Chen Meilan was just pretty to look at, but marriage and daily life weren't about looks. She had a stubborn temperament and a bad personality, without a shred of feminine gentleness. Once they were married and Yan Zhao had experienced Chen Meilan's nasty temper, he'd be crying.

But just then, Yan Zhao said something that startled Yan Xishan so much he missed lighting his cigarette and singed his eyebrow instead.

Though Yan Zhao's voice wasn't loud, it was full of conviction: "Uncle, this is a new society. We follow Marx and Lenin, not superstition. When I divorced, I gave our old house to my ex-wife Zhou Xueqin. As men, we should be noble and upright. It's just a courtyard. Xishan should learn from me and give this courtyard to Chen Meilan."

What? He actually openly admitted he was divorced and had given the house to his ex-wife?

All the men in the courtyard were suddenly dumbfounded.

Yan Sanye's mouth gaped open, unable to utter a word for a long time.

Half of Yan Xishan's eyebrow was singed. If he hadn't hurriedly patted it out, his hair would have caught fire too.

This Yan Zhao was too much, wasn't he? Was he airing his own dirty laundry to shut Yan Xishan up?

Yan Xiong had only learned today that Meilan had married Yan Zhao. What was there to fear now?

In his heart, from childhood to adulthood, Yan Zhao had always bested Xishan. He immediately chimed in: "Xishan should indeed learn from Yan Zhao, don't you all agree?" After all, he hadn't accepted Yan Xishan's cigarettes and alcohol, so he could speak righteously.

Moreover, he had already avoided the issue twice. This time he had to stand up for Meilan.

"That's right, it's a new society now. What's all this about old houses? Xishan, you really should learn from Yan Zhao." Even those who had just accepted cigarettes and alcohol were now turning against him?

Someone else added: "Xishan, the divorce was settled long ago. Stop making a fuss. You have plenty of money. If you really like living in a courtyard, why not spend your own money to buy an even bigger and brighter one?"

Had Yan Zhao really silenced Yan Xishan with just one sentence?

After a long struggle, Yan Xishan finally managed to say: "Yan Zhao, I'm fine with this, but today I went to the First Team and saw your ex-wife Zhou Xueqin living in your house with another man. If you really don't mind, then I don't mind either."

Yan Zhao's expression remained unchanged, while Yan Yong sighed.

Karma. He came to occupy Yan Xishan's courtyard, while Zhou Xueqin brought another man to live in his house.

The men in the courtyard, young and old, would have laughed themselves silly if not for the fact that both Yan Xishan and Yan Zhao wore such gloomy expressions.

It was absurd, utterly absurd.

But given their age, they had to suppress their laughter even if they wanted to laugh.

Yan Zhao still maintained his serious demeanor, his voice as steady as ever: "I don't mind at all."

He might not mind, but inside the house, little Yan Xiaowang had just picked up a meat sandwich when he heard that his own mother was living in the First Team. Tears of distress fell onto his sandwich.

Poor child. Chen Meilan had just noticed that although his rubber shoes were clean, they had been worn for so long that the soles were separating from the uppers.

If he knew that his mother had bought brand new shoes for Lu Dabao and Lu Erniu, how heartbroken would he be?

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