Pry Away Step-Sister's Fiancee - Chapter 4

Chapter 4 — This Is Your Home

The moment Ni Hezhi arrived in the village, little Fang Shuhui had been fascinated by this elegant and wealthy “big sister.” She’d been looking for a chance to greet her, spending the whole afternoon practicing simple sign language—afraid that her gesture might not be understood.

Now, finally face to face, she raised her arms shyly and made a heart shape with her hands, beaming with innocent delight.

But Ni Hezhi walked past her without so much as a glance, dragging her suitcase into the house and slamming the door shut behind her.

Shuhui’s hands froze mid-air. Slowly, her head drooped and her smile faded, her disappointment obvious.

Su Yu watched the scene, something tightening in her throat. Her gaze lingered briefly on the closed wooden door before she turned and gently patted Shuhui’s shoulder, using sign language to comfort her.

Shuhui shook her head, smiling with effort, pretending not to mind.

At that moment, Grandma Su Yu hobbled out of the kitchen, leaning on her cane. She had witnessed everything and waved Su Yu over.

“She’s a city girl—probably feeling lost out here in the mountains,” Grandma said softly. “Try to be patient with her.”

The mountain air turned sharply colder at night, and Grandma’s aching joints had begun to throb again. Su Yu helped her sit down on a bamboo chair, then fished out two warm eggs from her pocket.

“She’s been on the road all day. She’s probably hungry,” Grandma said. “Take these to her.”

Su Yu hesitated briefly, her lashes fluttering, then took the eggs with both hands. She walked quietly to the door and knocked three times.

In these rural homes, doors weren’t usually locked—just held shut with a wooden bench. But before she could even lean in to knock again, the door creaked open by itself.

Inside, Ni Hezhi lay curled up on the bed, her back to the door. After a pause, Su Yu stepped inside cautiously.

Ni Hezhi hadn’t fallen asleep. This had been the worst day she could remember: her mother’s sudden relapse, her stepmother’s betrayal, and now, stranded in a remote village where nothing was familiar. That heartless shove from Su Yu earlier had pushed her right over the edge.

Her head throbbed, her chest burned, and just as she was drowning in her own fury, Su Yu walked straight into the storm.

“Ni…” Su Yu called gently, then looked away.

Ni Hezhi remembered the roughness of that shove earlier. Her voice sharpened. “Who told you to come in? Ever heard of knocking?”

Su Yu opened her mouth to explain that the door wasn’t locked but stopped when she met Ni Hezhi’s glare. Her gaze dropped.

After a long pause, she whispered, “I brought you some eggs.”

“I don’t want them.”

Ni Hezhi’s anger flared. Without looking, she pushed Su Yu’s outstretched hand aside. The eggs tumbled to the floor, cracking loudly as their yolks spilled out.

Su Yu’s expression changed instantly. She dropped to her knees and tried to salvage the mess, her hands trembling as she wiped at the broken shells with her sleeve.

When she looked up, her eyes were filled with cold disappointment.

Ni Hezhi glanced at the mess and felt a flicker of guilt—but she stiffened, refusing to back down. “It’s just a couple of eggs. Why are you acting like I smashed a family heirloom?”

Su Yu’s voice was quiet but firm. “My grandma’s legs are bad. It’s hard for her to raise chickens. If you’re upset, fine. But don’t waste food.”

That landed like a stone in Ni Hezhi’s gut. She looked away, irritated by her own sense of guilt.

“Didn’t Jiang Sui already give you money?” she snapped. “Can’t she just pay you back for it?”

The moment the words left her mouth, Su Yu’s face went pale. Her emotions churned visibly—hurt, disbelief, and finally, calm restraint.

Ni Hezhi had wanted to lash out, but now all the anger only made her feel worse. She grabbed her suitcase and headed for the door.

As she stepped outside, the rich scent of sesame oil stopped her in her tracks. Startled, she looked up to find Grandma Su Yu standing there with a bowl of steaming noodles.

The old woman glanced at the suitcase and asked gently, “Heading somewhere, girl?”

Ni Hezhi swallowed the lump in her throat. Her voice wavered. “I want to go home.”

Grandma didn’t act surprised. She smiled patiently. “That’s fine. But you should eat something first.”

She reached for Ni Hezhi’s hand—weathered, calloused, and dirt-stained from years of hard work. Still, Grandma wiped her palm clean on her apron before gently hooking her pinkie with Ni Hezhi’s.

She guided her to the table, pulled up a stool, and set the bowl down.

“You like boiled eggs, don’t you?” she said kindly. “Try the fried ones. We raise our own chickens, and the rapeseed oil’s pressed fresh from our own crops. It’s the tastiest you’ll ever have.”

Ni Hezhi sat still, hands in her lap, throat tight. The smell of the noodles brought back memories she hadn’t expected—of Grandma Hua making this exact dish in the old Ni family home.

Hua Po, whose real name was Zhang Jinhua, had been her nanny since birth. She’d practically raised Ni Hezhi, treating her more like a granddaughter than a charge.

Ni Hezhi hadn’t wanted to come to this village, but Jiang Sui had made it clear—if she resisted, Grandma Hua would be kicked out of the house. So she’d come. But now, stranded and humiliated, she longed for the warmth of home and the comfort of her mother’s embrace.

Though she tried to stay composed, her eyes grew red. She lowered her head just as a soft, wrinkled hand landed on her hair.

“Eat, child,” Grandma said gently.

“I want to go home…” Ni Hezhi whispered.

Grandma sighed and wrapped her in a hug. “It’s getting dark. Wild animals roam the mountains at night. Years ago, a girl ran off alone and never made it back. The next morning—”

“Grandma!”

Ni Hezhi blurted out the word before she could stop herself. Her eyes widened. Why had she called her that?

“I’m not some runaway bride,” she muttered, flustered.

But another slip—why had she said bride?

As if something unseen pulled her gaze, she turned her head—and caught Su Yu looking at her.

Their eyes locked. Su Yu quickly looked away, staring at the floor. Her ears turned bright red. But after a second, she peeked again.

Grandma, meanwhile, wiped down a set of chopsticks and placed them in front of Ni Hezhi. “Eat now. At dawn, Ayu will walk you out of the mountains.”

Ni Hezhi blinked. “You’re… really going to let me go?”

Grandma chuckled. “What am I, a kidnapper? Of course you can leave.”

She reached into her apron and pulled out a worn cloth pouch, unfolding it layer by layer. Inside were neatly stacked bills—ones, twenties, fifties, even a few hundreds.

“This is money from selling melons. I was saving it to take Huihui to the city hospital. But if you need it now, use it. Your ID’s with Madam Jiang, so you can’t take the train—but she left enough for your trip. Ayu can find a car in the county tomorrow.”

Before Grandma could finish, a soft voice babbled nearby. Ni Hezhi turned to see a delicate girl using sign language.

Grandma smiled. “Yes, yes, we’ll give it all to big sister.”

She pushed the girl gently forward. “This is my little granddaughter, Fang Shuhui. She lost her hearing due to illness as a child. She used to speak, but over time, without hearing, she stopped talking too.”

Ni Hezhi blinked. Wait—they’re not full sisters? Their surnames don’t match… one must’ve taken their mother’s name, the other their father’s?

She didn’t have time to ask. Grandma stuffed the cloth pouch into her hands. “We don’t have much, but take this—it’ll help.”

Ni Hezhi thought of what she’d overheard: how Su Yu’s family lived hand-to-mouth, how Grandma’s health was failing. This pouch probably held all they had.

She’d grown up pampered, always surrounded by people eager to please her. But when her mother fell ill, even the most loyal faces had turned cold. The staff obeyed Jiang Sui. The board gave her the cold shoulder.

Only when you fall do you see who’s really there to catch you.

Ni Hezhi’s eyes welled up again. She threw herself into Grandma’s arms.

“I’m not leaving,” she whispered. “Su Yu was right. It’s safest here.”

She had nowhere else to go. Going back would only put her—and Grandma Hua—at risk. She’d stay in the village, quietly gathering information, waiting for her mother to wake up.

Her shoulders trembled. Her voice was hoarse. “I’ll stay… and wait for my mom.”

Grandma patted her back, holding her like something precious. “Then stay. Whatever you need, just ask. You’re safe here.”

As Grandma stroked her hair, her warm, rough hand gave Ni Hezhi something she hadn’t felt in days: peace.

She curled into her arms like a child. “Grandma…”

“I’m here,” the old woman whispered. “Stay as long as you want, child. From now on… this is your home.”