Wang Cuiju's husband, Lin Youfu, was seething with resentment.
He shouted and cursed, "She did take money home, but she didn't give my family a son. Isn't it only right that she brought the money back?"
"Raising pigs, raising pigs, I've told you it's expensive, buying bricks and tiles is even more expensive, and it wastes grain, what's the point of raising them? Nobody else raises them, why does she have so many ideas, why doesn't she think about ascending to heaven all day long?"
When Lin Jinyue arrived, she heard Wang Cuiju saying:
“I’m using money I earned myself. I already have a daughter and don’t want to have any more. If you want to have more, why don’t you have one yourself?”
"I'm busy doing business with Er Ya all day, and my daughter was sick yesterday. You expect me to come home and take care of her if she doesn't cook? You're just lying around like a king, and you want to manage the money?!"
Lin Youfu was furious: "What? If you hadn't married me, if I hadn't sold you on the way to escape famine, would you be where you are today?"
Lin Jinyue frowned.
She had always known that the men in the village all had some bad habits, more or less.
For example, male chauvinism, women not being allowed to sit at the table in some families, and those who beat women.
But after arriving here, everyone became more restrained.
Moreover, Lin Shucheng would mention it from time to time. No one knew what everyone was thinking, but in any case, they were all careful in front of Lin Jinyue and her family and wouldn't do anything reckless.
Lin Jinyue immediately squeezed into the crowd and spoke to Lin Youfu, who was spouting nonsense: "What, Sixth Uncle, are you just giving me away as a favor? How can you be so shameless?"
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