Breaking the Taboo (1v2, Blood Uncle and Nephew) - Chapter 6

“Isn’t it enough if I avoid him? As long as I don’t see him, he can’t do anything to me.”

Everyone in the Han family—Li Mohan had to avoid them all. Besides her uncle-in-law, now there was also Han Yezhen.

Wenhua saw the bleak smile on Li Mohan’s face and a wave of guilt surged up, but she couldn’t say anything.

Her gaze drifted to Li Mohan’s wrist. “That smartwatch isn’t cheap. Who gave it to you?”

Wenhua knew how poor Li Mohan was. She scrimped on everything; she’d never waste money.

Li Mohan glanced down at the watch. “My Little Uncle gave it to me.”

Wenhua blinked, lips working for a moment before she decided to voice her thought: “About what’s going on with you at the Han house… have you thought about telling your Little Uncle? Maybe he could—”

“It’s useless telling him.” Li Mohan cut her off. Her thick lashes lowered, hiding what lay in her eyes. “He’s a bona fide Han. They’re the real family. What am I?”

Wenhua pressed her lips together and said nothing.

“Alright, get inside. It’s not good if people see you with me.”

Li Mohan nudged her forward, then waited a bit herself before going into the teaching building.

Between classes, she came out of the restroom and saw Zhao Fei. She immediately turned to leave, only to run right into two people blocking her.

Four or five more closed in.

They shoved and dragged her into a storage classroom.

The moment they were in, Zhao Fei grabbed her hair and slammed her head into the wall. “What are you hiding for? Hide, huh! You little b1tch—I’ll smash you!”

After several blows, Li Mohan’s head was spinning. She saw the girl sitting on the desk, one leg crossed over the other.

Han Ziying.

Her maternal aunt’s daughter, her younger cousin. Because Han Ziying’s father had married into the Han family, she took her mother’s surname.

Don’t underestimate what a surname means. Being a Han meant her name went straight into the family genealogy—she was a Han descendant.

Unlike Li Mohan: only a maternal granddaughter.

Han Ziying sucked on a lollipop. It clicked against her teeth, contempt curling into a gloating smirk.

“You snuck back to the Han house last night. Think I didn’t know? You’re a rat—you belong in the sewers.”

Li Mohan said nothing, forcing her face blank.

With people like this, the more you showed pain, the more excited they got. The more you begged, the crueler they became.

Seeing Li Mohan like that only made Han Ziying angrier. Like a corpse—no reaction at all.

From the first day Li Mohan came to the Han house, she’d hated her.

Grandpa had only had one granddaughter. And then out of nowhere this country bumpkin showed up and sat at the same table.

Everything that should have been hers had to be split in two with Li Mohan.

Why?

She had the face of a green-tea b1tch. Who was that soft, easy-to-bully act for?

Hatred grated so hard her teeth creaked. She bit down and the lollipop shattered into shards.

Han Ziying flicked the stick to the floor and waved Zhao Fei on.

Zhao Fei understood. She lashed a kick into Li Mohan.

Li Mohan went down. Before she could get up, the others laid into her with fists and feet.

Zhao Fei hit the hardest. She hated Li Mohan too.

In middle school, Li Mohan, Han Ziying, and Zhao Fei had all attended the same school.

Back then, Zhao Fei and Han Ziying were close.

Han Ziying complained to her all the time about how Li Mohan mistreated her at home. Every time she said it, Zhao Fei would get people to corner Li Mohan and “stick up” for Han Ziying.

By high school, it had only escalated.

Mostly because Zhao Fei’s life had been a mess lately.

Her dad cheated—with a twenty-year-old college girl.

The house was in chaos—chickens flying, dogs jumping.

And the homewrecker’s look and vibe were just like Li Mohan’s type.

Pitiful, doe-eyed, fake-innocent—enough to make you want to slap her.

She’d been choking on rage with nowhere to vent. Now she could dump it all on Li Mohan.

“Stinking slut, always seducing men! Keep acting, huh? Who the fvck are you putting on that act for? Say something! Cat got your tongue, b1tch?”

Li Mohan clenched her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, curling in on herself, arms over her head, guarding her skull and her belly.

Pain twisted her mouth. Every breath stabbed. Sweat beaded and ran down her forehead.

Her fists were balled so tight that her nails dug into her palms and she didn’t even feel it.

She prayed someone would come. Prayed the beating would end sooner.

Through it all, Han Ziying just sat there, legs swinging lazily. She didn’t lay a finger on Li Mohan.

Only idiots got their hands dirty. Smart people like her just needed to find the idiots.

She looked down from on high, watching, savoring, sneering. She even took out her phone and recorded video, so she could pull it up later when she was bored and needed a laugh.

No telling how long it went on.

A lookout outside shouted, “Stop—teacher’s coming.”

Zhao Fei froze. Han Ziying hopped off the desk and spat on Li Mohan. “Don’t show your face around me again. I see you, I beat you.”

A chorus of triumphant laughter drifted away.

Curled around her stomach, Li Mohan lay motionless on the cold floor.

The bell for class went on ringing. At first deafening, then farther and farther away.

Her hands lay limp on the ground. If… if she just died here, maybe that would be better.

“Li Mohan!” Homeroom teacher Lu Yan rushed in and lifted her into his arms.

After a long moment, her eyelids fluttered. At the sight of Lu Yan, a single clear tear slid from the corner of her eye, falling into her ear.

“Mr. Lu…”