After Transmigrating as an Evil Stepmother, I Redeemed Four Villains

I’ve been transmigrated into an old-fashioned novel as the wicked stepmother. In the original story, all four children grow up to become villains who will shake the world. The moment I open my eyes, I inherit the massive debts left by the original owner and her reputation for abusing the children. The eldest’s gaze is like a poison-coated dagger. The second is covered in bruises, yet bares his teeth as he shields his younger siblings. The third seems innocent and sweet, but turns around and hides the kitchen knife. The youngest huddles in a corner like a chick plucked bare. No golden finger, no System, just a leaky roof over the woodshed and creditors pounding at the door. I lick my cracked lips. “Kids, being a stepmother seems even harder than being a corporate drone in my last life?”