Just when Lin Yifan was wondering how to shake off this "clinging plaster," Xu Fengxian's voice floated over from a distance.
"Wow, that's big talk. I'm a virtuous widow; can you claim the same?"
With her hands on her hips, she gave Widow Zhao a disdainful sideways glance.
Taking a step forward, she directly wrapped her arm around Lin Yifan's arm.
"If you could, Zhao Bashi wouldn't have died in disgrace."
In the dead of night in the small mountain village, the two widows had quite the encounter.
Widow Zhao glared at Xu Fengxian with resentment.
The "meat in her mouth" being snatched away filled her with hatred.
"Stop being so glib. We're both widows; one shouldn't laugh at the other. You're no better off than I am."
